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#and i need to get dale done
moonshine-nightlight · 9 months
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tomorrow's Dale is going to brought to you by the three shots i'm having this afternoon as i write and hit different word count thresholds because that's where i'm at today
we'll find out tomorrow when editing!me has to deal with this chapter if i should be telling you to thank me or apologizing 🤣
Current Word Count: 3,028
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steddielations · 2 months
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nonsexual d/s for sub Eddie week with art here by @ent-is-indecisive
“Eddie, will you please open the door?”
“I ruined it, Steve, I messed everything up.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, baby, let me in, c’mon.”
All the music from the party almost drowns out Steve’s voice, but a small pathetic piece of Eddie clings to it like an anchor. He opens the door and Steve’s brows knit sympathetically at the state of distress Eddie's in. It’s all fucked up.
His leather sleeve is wet and sticky, he can’t stop raking his fingers through his hair, ruining the nice waves Steve styled for him earlier because he was too much of a wreck to do it himself. It’s all fucked up.
“I fucked up.”
Shaking his head, Steve comes inside and shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t that bad. Could’ve been worse, remember when Robin threw up in the middle of an audition.”
“Steve, at this point they’re gonna pay me not to make an album,” Eddie stresses, pacing around the bathroom. “I spilled wine all over the guy. Dale fucking Grazer wants to talk serious paper and shake my hand and I just emptied my stupid little glass all over him!”
“It was just wine, not puke or something,” Steve says lightly, trying to bring Eddie down from his frantic state. It works, his voice is a tether for Eddie to grab onto. “Come here, let me fix you up.” 
Eddie does as Steve says, not trusting himself to make any more decisions when all he’s done today is fuck up. 
Steve guides him over to the sink, wetting a towel and dabbing Eddie’s jacket. He’s so calm, like this isn’t the most important night in Eddie’s life and it’s not already blown and he can still make that hotshot from the record label like him.
Steve’s acting like everything’s fine, which makes Eddie feel stupid and small like he's overreacting, he tries to let Steve’s energy calm him too but it’s hard.
“You’re overthinking, I can see it on your face,” Steve says, being gentle but not in a coddling way that would make Eddie feel even more stupid.
He straightens out Eddie’s sleeve, good as new, then works on Eddie’s hair next. His fingers are soft and skilled and so sure, knowing exactly how to fix it and how to make Eddie melt under his touch.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, just trying to let Steve fix everything. He's way better at fancy parties and schmoozing than Eddie is. He always knows how to get Eddie out of his head and that’s what he needs right now. As pathetic as he feels about it, he needs to stop thinking. Let Steve think for him, even.
“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Steve prompts softly and Eddie is helpless but to let it all out.
“I can’t stop saying the wrong shit. Why’d I tell him my dad’s in prison? Or bring up the dropped murder charges, or all that stuff about ket, I just can’t shut up.”
“No, that’s just you, the whole big personality charismatic rockstar thing. Trust me, that guy’s got star eyes for you.”
“This is just like with Paige’s label. I messed that up, and now I’m ruining Jeff’s chance again, and—”
“No you’re not, that guy loves Jeff already, everybody loves Jeff.” 
“You’re right, he’s got this, he doesn’t need me. Let’s just get out of here, make a run for it.”
Eddie barely takes a step before Steve’s hands circle both his wrists, his grip gentle but solid, holding Eddie in place. It flips the same little switch in Eddie as the cuffs they use in the bedroom. It takes away the option to run.
Somewhere in the jumble of his mind, he knows it’s the right choice, trusting that Steve wouldn’t let him make the wrong one.
“We’re not going anywhere, baby, this is your chance too.” Steve rubs up and down Eddie’s arms, guiding him around in front of the mirror. 
It’s hard for Eddie to look at himself right now and see it written all over his face. Steve cleaned the stain and made his hair perfect again but he can’t fix whatever’s making Eddie… Well, Eddie. Whatever it is that made him flunk senior year 3 times, or screw up the first chance he had to make something of himself, or the reason Ronnie won’t pick up his phone calls, or the reason Wayne sleeps with his keys on the bedside table in case he has to come running to Eddie’s rescue like always—
Steve’s fingers lightly cup Eddie’s chin, he’s standing behind Eddie now, his body warmly pressed against him.
“Look here, honey.” Steve gently tips Eddie’s head up to meet his own eyes in the mirror. They’re glistening with unshed tears that almost fall when Steve says soft but sure, “You’re not a fuckup,” and prompts Eddie, “Say it.”
Eddie swallows the lump rising in his throat, “I’m not—” 
He chokes up a little bit and Steve waits patiently. 
“Tell yourself,” Steve whispers, all earnest-eyed in the mirror like all he wants is to make Eddie believe it.
“I’m not a… fuckup,” Eddie gets the words out and a few tears slip free with them.
Steve brushes them away. “You can do this. Say it.”
With a deep breath, Eddie tells himself, “I can do this.”
Steve kisses his temple, gives him a little praise that he admittedly needs so much right now, “You’re gonna be so good.”
Eddie’s mind starts to clear of everything that’s not Steve rocking him slowly in his arms, whispering, “You’re my good boy,” as many times as Eddie needs to hear it. He feels his confidence building back up, getting more comfortable in his skin again with Steve holding him, believing the words Steve made him say in the mirror, believing the words Steve kisses into his neck and loves into his skin. He can do this.
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” 
“Tell me,” Steve prompts and Eddie turns a little, blinking slowly, eyes feeling heavy with the slow dose of bliss Steve gave him.
“I’m your good boy,” Eddie murmurs and he believes it.
When they leave the bathroom later, Steve can’t hold his hand through this, but Eddie still feels him.
He charms the fuck out of those suits from the label. They love Jeff, everybody loves Jeff, and they love Eddie too. The whole band is definitely getting signed, at least that’s what Steve says on the ride home.
Eddie greedily soaks up all the praise and attention, feeling a little spacey with it, Steve's big warm hand on his thigh grounding him. He can't wait for them to get home so he can properly thank Steve.
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deansapplepie · 4 months
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Period .
Summary: The one time you were glad you had your period, and the one time you weren’t.
Warnings: young Daryl (just in the first part), mentions of pregnancy, period, blood, sexual themes, mentions of creampie, mentions of impregnating, little angsty in the end. Minors do not Interact, 18+.
A/N: it was supposed to be a small drabble, but it turned out longer than I imagined. 🤭 Period is something important in the story, but the main focus is really about pregnancy.
Also, there’s no smut just little thoughts of Daryl.
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The Quarry, Atlanta
You were fucked you knew you were, but so was Daryl and that was the problem. You had been dating for only a few months before the outbreak and even though your relationship was new, you knew his temper pretty well being neighbors for many years.
Your period was late, it already was when the world ended, but just a few days, so you didn’t worry about it. Now, it had been almost a month and you were worried as fuck. You tried to fake normalcy, pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. But your constant lip biting and unquiet legs denounced to the hunter how nervous you were. “Spill it.” He said.
“What?” He took you by surprise, you were so into in your mind that you didn’t even know he had been observing for the last half hour.
“There’s somethin’ worrying ya. Just say it.” He didn’t take his eyes from you as he waited for you ti say something.
“My period. It’s late. I’m worried.” You threw averting his eyes.
In his mind a million of thoughts were running, but mainly 1. why did you have to feel so amazing wrapped around him that sometimes he couldn’t just control himself and just finish inside of you? 2. why did he still used no condoms? 3. he couldn’t be a father, he didn’t have this ability.
“Just that?” He asked nonchalantly pretending it didn’t affect him. “Want me to go to town and pick a pregnancy test?”
You looked at him amused. How could he be so calm when you were panicking? Part of you were glad he wasn’t fuming in rage like you imagined he would be, but the other part was frustrated with him acting like it was nothing. “Seriously?” You gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t need to. Let’s wait a little more.” You got up and left to the lake, frustrated, fuming and just needing to calm yourself down.
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Days passed and nothing happened. Until the day Daryl woke up tired of not knowing if he would have to raise a child in this fucked up world or not. When you woke up he was already brewing something on the fire, Merle with him. “I’m going to town. Want something?” He asked.
“What are you going to do in town?” You didn’t understand, you had everything. Food and hygiene supplies, what else could you need?
“I’m gonna get the thing. We already waited too much.” He seemed nervous, finally one small demonstration of feelings.
“Are ya two gonna talk in codes now?” Merle complained feeling left out.
You ignored him and replied Daryl. “Ok. Just let me go the bathroom, gonna think if we need anything else.” You left in the direction of the RV, not everyone used it, but most of you. Especially the women and the kids, Daryl and Merle preferred to go into the woods as to not get the dirty looks everyone gave them, but you were different, you were polite and would smile sometimes. Also, you got along well with Dale and the women in the camp.
You distributed ‘good mornings’ along the way and when you got to the RV you encountered Dale, Ami and Andrea having breakfast. You greeted them and excused yourself to the bathroom, and there it was… your answer. No test needed. A pool of blood on your panties. You felt wet earlier, but the last weeks you felt it many times and it was always nothing, so you didn’t mind. You were relieved. The world was pure chaos and you couldn’t imagine raising a child in it. Yet, there was an uneasy feeling inside of you.
You went back to your tent and the small fire the brothers had done. “You don’t need to go.” It was as the only thing you said.
“Ugh?” He grunted confused.
“I’m on my period.” You said, and fuck if Merle was listening.
“Were ya talking in codes because ya thought you were pregnant?” Merle almost yelled. “And you were hiding it from me? The uncle?”
“Shut up Merle, nobody needs to know, and stop complaining about an inexistent baby.” You answered mood swinging immediately. There it was, you had seen the signals, you just didn’t want to read them.
Daryl stayed silent while you went inside the tent to take clean panties, pads or tampons to change. When you came out Daryl was the same way he was before, millions of thoughts inside his head.
“Are you going to say something or are you going to pretend there wasn’t anything going on just like when I told you my worries?” You snapped, the last days you had thought over and over again about his non reaction the day you told him, and that’s not that you wanted him to have fought or screamed at you, you didn’t, but you wanted him to share his worries with you and to be able to share yours with him.
“What do ya want me to say?” He asked, dryly. “Thank God? ‘Cause I don’t believe in one. Or do you want me to say I feel really sorry ‘cause we’re not putting a child in this fucked up world?” He had snapped. You were angry at him, but at least it was a reaction of some sort.
“You’re an asshole.” You threw at him and left, he thought about retorting you with a sassy answer, but he bit his tongue.
“Ya messed bad, lil bro… ya know nothing about women. How was ya able to catch a girl like her?” Merle couldn’t contain his mouth and spoke.
“Shut up, Merle! Mind your own business!” He replied, taking his things and living grumpily.
Later that day he returned with chocolate and painkillers, which he left on your side of the sleeping bed without saying anything.
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Alexandria, Virginia
You were out in the woods, close to Alexandria. You had been hunting with Daryl, your husband. Yes, your husband. So many things have changed along the years, that some times you couldn’t believe how things were different. But one thing hadn’t change, you were still reckless about sex, not that you had options to prevent a pregnancy in the end of the world.
And that was the reason you were distracted while you hunted, also the reason you were not being silent like he taught you to be and were cracking every and all stick on the way. “Wha’s the problem, sweetheart?” He stopped and turned to you.
Distracted, you continued to walk and bumped into him. “Sorry.” You looked up at him and saw concern in his eyes.
“What’s troubling ya?” He asked his hands resting on your shoulders. “And don’t try to lie, I know ya.”
You sighed. “I’m late.” You’ve been late many times during the time you and Daryl have been together, but most of the times your worries would be taken away as soon as they started to build. But that time at the quarry and now, it had been a long time.
Now he already knew what you meant, and it didn’t worry him this much anymore. To be honest, he even thought about impregnating you during the last years. It all started when his Lil Ass Kicker was born, and then how he saw you taking care of her and interacting with kids. So… he considered having kids with you many times.
“Just that?” He threw the same question back at that day in the quarry. Anger started bubbling in you and then he just stroke you with his words. “Ya shouldn’t worry. If it happens, we’ll take responsibility and do our best. It’s our baby we’re talking about.”
“Daryl… aren’t you mad? Or worried?” You looked at him disarmed now that you realized he wasn’t going to be a dick.
“If ya’re expecting, I helped making this baby and I dun think it would be so terrible the idea of having a baby made of us.” Yeah, you had all changed a lot. You didn’t know one day you could desire him even more, but just the thought of him thinking it wouldn’t be bad to have babies with you… made you want to jump on him.
“Should we grab a pregnancy test with Denise or something?” You suggested grabbing one of his hands.
“Let’s wait a little more and I take them.” He started to walk and intertwined your fingers. “Now, let’s hunt dinner.”
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Daryl had finally gone on a run to find some pregnancy tests, Denise unfortunately had none. When he arrived he hoped to see you in the kitchen with Carol, but his friend was alone. She saw his confused face and she knew he was looking for you. “She’s at the bedroom. She arrived and a little while after… she didn’t look well. I think you should see her.” Carol advised him. She knew there was something upsetting you and she was almost sure of what it was, but you had said nothing to her, so she decided it was better to not push.
“Thanks, ‘m gonna check on her.” He said before he left to your shared bedroom.
After he descended the stairs to your room in the basement, he found you on bed laying on your side. He kicked his shoes off before joining you in bed. “Hey babe”
“Hey” you replied and didn’t turn to look at him.
He laid on his side, spooning you and sneaking his arm around you. He rested his hand on your lower stomach, an habit he had developed recently. He’d do it when you got your period and felt cramps, but in the last days he had done it for another reason. “Can you take your hand from there?” You asked.
“Why? Don’t ya wanna me to touch ya?” He wanted to understand what was troubling your mind.
“There’s nothing there. Just my uterus. My stupid bleeding uterus.” Here it was. He wouldn’t deny he was a little upset, he had some hope on you being pregnant. He was even excited.
“Ok. Look at me.” He turned you so you’d be facing him. You had teary eyes and a small pout on your lips. “You wanted this baby, didn’t ya?”
“Is it this obvious?” Yes, it was. It was visible on your face.
“I wanted it too.” He confessed, his fingers running on your hair.
“I’ve been wanting for a long time already… since Jude was born and I saw her in your arms. When I have Jude in my arms or little Hershel, I wish I had a baby.” While you spoke, your eyes welled with tears and they started falling.
He gently wiped your tears, he could understand your feelings in his own way, because he felt them too. “Me too. When I see you with the kids, I wish we had one.” ‘And to put a baby inside of you’, completed in his mind. “Do ya want me to give you a baby?”
Your eyes sparkled at his words, and it wasn’t just because of the tears threatening to fall again. “Would you?” You looked in his eyes and he felt like you could see his soul. But, yes… you could. You could always see him, even when he couldn’t.
“As many as ya want.” He said and the tears you were holding just bursted from your eyes. “Stop crying, I didn’t say it so you’d cry. If you continue to cry, I’m not giving ya babies…”
“Don’t you dare Daryl Dixon! I’m crying because I’m happy, ok?” You cupped his face with your hands, making a pout appear on his face.
“Ok.” He spoke the best he could with your hands cupping his face and restraining his lips from moving. You kissed his lips and released his face.
He brought you closer and hugged you, your face hiding on his chest. He was happy. You weren’t feeling like shit anymore, you were feeling like the luckiest woman in the damn end of the world.
You were trying for babies as soon as possible. That was what he thought, a smile on his face while he held you in his arms.
Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325
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celtic-crossbow · 6 months
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Blood Ties Chapter 10
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, blood, injury, vomiting
A/N: This chapter is admittedly self indulgent. I love Daryl whump and I’ve been kind to him physically for most of the story so far. Not anymore! That being said, I feel like I should have split this into more than one chapter because—to me—the quality suffered because of the length. Anyway, on with the show!
Moodboard by @dannyo000
gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
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The sun was shining through the open curtains when you awoke. You scowled at the rays but the gentle heat that your skin was absorbing seemed to sooth the irritation. You stretched stagnant muscles, not even venturing to suppress the moan invoked by the action. You let your head fall to the side, finding the opposite margin of the bed empty. Daryl had already left. You shouldn’t be surprised. He was a hunter. Your variety were early risers. Well, you were admittedly a bit of a slacker. 
Your stomach felt moderately uneasy but not unmanageable. Hershel must have given you that injection while you slept. Your IV was disconnected and a glass of water sat on the bedside table, this time closest to you. You picked it up after gliding your legs off the side of the bed, taking slow careful sips. You were just placing it back on the table when there was a soft knock on the door. 
“Come in?” You weren’t sure if it was Hershel or maybe someone else who lived in the home. It felt odd to invite them into a room that didn’t belong to you. 
Carol peeked inside and smiled before opening the door fully to enter, a young blonde girl right on her heels with a glass of something—colorful. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” You accepted the woman’s embrace. 
“Better.” You smiled reassuringly when she pulled back to get a look at you. “Who’s this? And what’s that?” Carol looked behind herself on one side and then the other before stepping aside. 
“I’m Beth. My daddy is the one that helped you.” The girl was just that: a girl. She was older than Carl and Sophia but still a kid. “We made you a fruit smoothie. Patricia says it’s good for you and shouldn’t make you sick.”
You offered her a tight smile and accepted the drink, fearful of not only the taste but the consistency of the thing. You’d never done well with solid things being made into liquids. With an uncertain frown, you took a small sip. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Holy shit, that’s good.” When you took another drink, a smiling Carol put a hand on your arm. 
“Go slow.”
You nodded, tilting your head at the pile of clothes in Carol’s arms. “Are those for me?”
“Mhm. Thought you might like to clean up and change.”
“Oh my god, you read my mind.” You took another sip and made a grateful noise that had Beth giggling. “That is really good.”
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It was early evening by the time you had showered and decided to venture outside. The nap in between was desperately needed. You were still a little weak from your ordeal. 
It was your first glimpse of the land. Beautiful fields with horses and cows out to pasture, while the blue, cloudless sky blanketed it all. 
Blue like Daryl’s eyes. 
You frowned, shaking your head at yourself. “Where the hell did that come from?” You brushed it off easily and approached the little camp your fellow group mates had set up. It felt odd being around them all without Daryl being somewhere nearby but it wasn’t bad per se.
Lori looked up from the bin of laundry and smiled at you. It was small and you could sense something behind it. Nevertheless, you returned it. It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to get to know everyone better. You made two steps in Lori’s direction before noticing Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Dale huddled together out of the corner of your eye. 
Normally, you’d think nothing of it, except you happened to catch Dale risking a glance in your direction. His expression pinched, concerned. He was quick to look away but it was too late. 
“What’s going on?” You asked, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jeans. The way they all looked between one another spoke volumes. There was something they didn’t want to tell you. 
Shane did that thing where he shoved his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and looked around at nothing before meeting your eyes. “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’. We got it under control.”
You couldn’t help but sneer at him. “Don’t call me darlin’ and I can decide if I should worry or not. Rick?” The officers shared a look with Shane shaking his head but Rick seemed to disagree. 
“Daryl took a horse out today to look for Sophia.” 
You shook your head and raised a brow inquisitively. “Okay?” 
“The horse came back. Without him.”
Your stomach dropped before twisting with a feeling of dread. “You’re going out, right?” 
“Well, this is Daryl. We’re gonna give him until nightfall and set out first thing in the morning if he’s not back.” Rick explained. The incredulous expression you donned must have been enough encouragement for him to stammer out further explanation. “We can’t risk going out and not making it back before dark.”
“But it’s okay for Daryl—who could be hurt—to be out there alone all night, right? Are you fucking serious right now?” You were finding it increasingly difficult to keep your anger in check or your voice at a low volume. 
“Listen, missy, you don’t have a lot of right to say much of anything around here! Let me tell you something—” Shane began. You were having none of it. 
“Oh, shove it, Dudley Do-Right!” You hissed. You had spun away and started looking for Daryl’s tent, missing the undoubtedly furious—but comically memorable—expression on Shane’s face. “I’ll go find him myself.”
You heard Rick’s frantic footfalls before he stepped in front of you, palms out. “Wait, wait, wait. We can’t let you go out there.”
“Let me?”
Dale joined Rick, taking off his hat as he spoke. You weren’t sure why he did it other than maybe attempting to show you some form of respect. “Daryl would be less than thrilled if something happened to you.”
“I thought I didn’t have any rights around here?” You crossed your arms, eyes sliding to the side when you heard someone approaching from behind. When they didn’t move where you could see them, you felt your hackles rise. They must have not been informed that you were also a hunter. “If you touch me, you risk losing a body part.” You spat over your shoulder, venom dripping from every syllable. “And I promise you, it’ll be something you’ll definitely miss.” Shane gave you a wide berth as he circled within your sight, hands up as if he were being detained. 
“Look, Y/N, we know that’s Daryl’s baby.” Rick dropped his hands to his sides, bringing one back up immediately to rub at his forehead. 
“And how do you know that?” You knew it was a stupid question. The archer hadn’t left your side the entire time you were unconscious. After you awoke, he was at your beck and call: bringing you food, making sure you drank enough, watching over you as you rested. 
“You were unconscious. You didn’t see him when he brought you here.” Rick was trying so hard to be nice and you knew he meant it. He was a genuine person. 
“He was off the rails! Rantin’ and ravin’ like a lunatic!”
“Shane, you’re not helping.” Rick had tilted his head, directing his statement at his partner but keeping his eyes on the ground at your feet. When he spoke again, his gaze found yours, full of kindness and concern. “We just can’t take any risks.”
Regardless, you would not be deterred. “I’m not asking you to. In fact, I’m not asking at all.” They allowed you to sidestep around them, not following you but you could hear them muttering loudly amongst themselves. 
Finding Daryl’s tent was a piece of cake. You used what you knew of him to conclude that he would be the furthest from the rest. Once inside, you found your pack and knives sitting to one side, surprisingly in a neat pile. In fact, the entire space was orderly enough for you to scratch your head and second guess if you had indeed entered the right tent. 
His bedroll had not been used, the cot not set up. That made sense. He had spent the nights in the house with you while you recovered. You could still feel the warmth his body gave off even with several inches between you. Damn him for going off alone. 
He did have some goodies in his area that you were happy to borrow. Some dried jerky, a length of rope, some extra clothes (for him, just in case), a meager amount of medical supplies (also, just in case), and a flashlight. You’d give it all back. Maybe. 
Knives holstered and bag on your back, you bent down to exit the tent, standing to come face to face with Carol and Lori. Throwing back your head, you groaned. “Not you guys, too.”
“Daryl made it pretty clear that the baby is his.” Lori spoke first. “We’re gonna worry.”
“You’re new, but we’re all in this together. Daryl, too. He’s out there looking for my girl, after all.” Carol held out two canteens of water. “Maggie and Glenn aren’t back yet. That shot Hershel gave you isn’t gonna last much longer. You need to stay hydrated.”
Before you could react, Lori handed you two apples and a can of kidney beans. “You need to eat too. Fruit and protein are good for the baby and for nausea.”
“Thank you.” You turned to allow Carol to place the items in your bag, getting caught in a hug on your way back around. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Carol nodded while Lori took your hand and squeezed. “We’ll handle the men. Go on. Daryl left out that way.” You turned your attention to the direction she pointed and gave a nod, jogging off before anyone could intercept you. 
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Situations like this were when being a hunter and tracker was beyond beneficial; it could be potentially life saving. Finding the horse’s trail was easy. The shape of the hooves indicated whether the mare was coming or going, as well as the depth, indicating whether or not Daryl was in the saddle. 
He had gone some distance, that was certain. Being on horseback allowed him to cover more ground but he gave up the advantage of being close to the paths. It had to be harder to see any trails from horseback. Then again, he was a marksman with his crossbow. He was eagle-eyed for sure. 
You had been tracking him for at least an hour, the sun getting lower and lower. Rick and Shane had been right about one thing: Daryl would raze that farm to the ground if he came back to learn you had gone out alone. Still, you had to think he’d find it at least a little funny that no one volunteered to go with you. Big strong manly men letting the petite sickly pregnant woman go in the woods all by her lonesome. You snorted at your own thoughts. 
You paused to check the sun’s position in the sky, estimating you had about an hour of daylight left. Even if you abandoned the search and went back at that moment, it would still be dark when you made it. You weren’t hungry, which you considered might be a bad thing, but you were thirsty. Pulling the bag from your shoulders, you crouched to dig through the contents for one of the canteens. It was easily found toward the top. 
“Small sips, small sips.” You reminded yourself. You didn’t yet feel nauseated but tempting fate was not an activity you regularly enjoyed. You did enough of that in the woods with Daryl and now had a baby in your belly for your efforts. You were screwing the lid back onto the canteen while simultaneously scanning the tracks you had been following, when you noticed a drastic change. “The horse startled.” You whispered urgently. You were quick to set aside your bag, moving low to the ground to inspect each print. “She reared. Fuck.” The next set of hoof prints were not as deep. “She threw him.”
You stood quickly, ignoring the very slight bout of light-headedness. “Daryl!” You whisper-yelled as loud as you dared. Efficient as you were, you could only handle so many walkers alone. Again, best not to tempt fate. “Daryl!” When you had made a 180, you saw a drop-off. You felt the nausea then, but it had nothing to do with your condition. You placed a palm against a tree, just in case you were to feel any sudden dizziness. You’d rather not topple over and go tumbling down the rocks into the bloody—water. “Oh fuck.”
The red was billowing out into green and yellow clouds in the water, showing it had been there long enough to dilute a substantial amount. “No, no, no. Daryl!” You moved hastily down the edge, following the water hopefully toward land. You had called louder only to be met with silence. Maybe he was out and gone. Back at camp and ready to have your head on a platter for going after him. Maybe he was nearby and would appear momentarily and call you an idiot for being so loud. 
Neither of those proved to be the case. 
When you spotted the gravelly riverside, you easily found the hunter. The sound you made was somewhere between a sob and a whimper. He was only halfway out of the water, his legs submerged up to his waist. The blood in the water was still a dark red, indicating active bleeding. There was something protruding from his left side that looked suspiciously like one of his bolts. Your first thought was that someone had taken his crossbow and shot him with his own weapon. However, it was lying just above his head, his hand loosely wrapped around it. 
You were past the point of thinking rationally. He could be a grade A asshole but he was your baby’s father. That was enough reason to try your best to get him out of the fucked up predicament he had somehow gotten himself into. 
It wouldn’t stop you from cursing his name the entire time though. 
“How the hell am I supposed to get down there?” You paced the ledge, pulling at your hair. The slope was steep and littered with rocks, limbs, and roots. You couldn’t risk falling. You wouldn’t. 
But there was so much blood. 
“Think, Y/N!” You crouched down, tapping your fingers against the dirt while willing Daryl to move. To yell. Anything. “When I get you out of this mess, Daryl, I’m going to string you up by—” Your eyes flew wide, a gasp leaving your parted lips. Scrambling back to your bag, you dug through it haphazardly until your fingers wrapped around the rope you’d swiped from his tent. “Yes!”
It probably wasn’t long enough to get you all the way to the bottom but it would do to get you low enough for a fall not to injure you. You’d have to be creative, regardless. You couldn’t rappel down; the length was definitely not enough for that. You also couldn’t tie it to a tree on the ledge either. It would take too much rope. You needed to move down the slope a bit and use one of the tree roots. 
Which meant taking a risk. 
“I swear if you die, I’m killing you.” You muttered, while shrugging your bag onto your back. Your ass met the dirt somewhat roughly in your haste to get moving. The body could only lose so much blood before—Anyway, you had to go. You moved down carefully, keeping your backside firmly on the ground whilst you prodded rocks and limbs to ensure they would hold your weight. There was a sturdy, sizable root just a few more feet. If it was embedded deep enough, you could use it to get you down safely as well as get you both back up. 
You were nearly there when your foot slipped from the edge of a rock. It was easy to right yourself, given how carefully you were moving but it didn’t stop your heart from leaping into your nose. Looking down, you realized you had grabbed your stomach instinctively. With a calming breath, you gave your tummy a pat. “We got this, little thumper.”
The root was easy to get the rope around, secured with a bowline knot. You then loosely secured the end around your waist, high enough not to snap taut around your belly if you were to fall. It’d probably break your back, honestly, but eh, you were optimistic. 
You let the slack fall and grabbed on a couple of feet below the knot. “Here goes nothin’.” You started down at a faster pace than before. You couldn’t slide on your ass the whole way, that would take forever. 
Daryl didn’t have forever. 
You called his name every few seconds, as quietly as you could while being loud enough for him to hopefully hear. You made about three-fourths of the way down when you heard a familiar sound that made your blood freeze. Your head snapped up to some foliage across the riverbank, panicked eyes zeroing in on the walker making a beeline for the same figure you were trying to make your way toward. 
“Hey!” You shouted. You waved an arm frantically but the stench of blood had the corpse’s entire focus. “Goddamnit!” With no alternative, you ripped off your flannel and put it between your hands and the rope. Bracing your weight mostly on the root above, you stood slightly and all but ran down the slope. Each time you misstepped, you threw your weight onto the rope. It would sling you sharply but with nowhere else to go, you could get right back to the descent. 
Unfortunately, the rope eventually ran out. 
Eyes on the walker getting entirely too close to Daryl, you scrambled to untie the line. “Fuck!” The corpse had dropped to its knees and was crawling the last few feet. You yanked your knife from the holster and cut yourself free in a single swipe, barreling toward the water. “Get away from him!”
It finally noticed you, looking your way while Daryl’s arm was in its rotten clutches. Your knife sank into its skull with ease. As much as the smell made you gag, you grabbed the thing as it toppled and pulled. You couldn’t let it fall into the water. Not with Daryl having an open wound. 
Panting through tears, you freed your knife and crawled toward the archer. If you had been one second later, he’d have been bitten. The way that thought devastated you down to your very soul frightened you. You checked his arm first, just to be sure. No bites. No scratches. There was no time to revel in that relief. You stopped to brush your fingertips over a cut above his right temple. From the fall, you surmised. 
The most concerning injury was that it was indeed his bolt impaling his side and it seemed to have gone all the way through. “Damnit, Daryl, what happened?” You felt lost, hands hovering while your chest began to tighten with the all too familiar heaviness of impending panic. “No, you can’t freak out. You cannot freak out.”
First thing was first. You had to get him out of the water. He would be lucky if bacteria hadn’t already seeped into his wound. You could only pray that Hershel had antibiotics in his possession. 
You shed your rucksack close to a nearby tree. The area would give you a view of the entirety of your surroundings. With Daryl injured, you would need to remain vigilant. You were responsible for the safety of three now. 
Moving him would be difficult. It would be pulling dead weight, and was most definitely over the weight limit a pregnant person should be messing with. But you didn’t have a choice. 
“Okay, little thumper. You just be strong in there while I get your dumbass father out of this mess.”
It was a struggle to get him angled on his right side. You couldn’t drag him flat and risk disturbing the bolt lodged in his skin. Hands tightly gripping his forearms, you began to pull, your boots sliding in the gravel. It was going to be quite the journey but you were moving him little by little. 
With a strained grunt, you paused and leaned forward to put your hands on your knees to catch your breath. Just as you leaned forward to grab hold of him again, a cold slimy hand grabbed onto your bicep, yanking you back. How had you not heard the walker approaching? Wasn’t pregnancy supposed to heighten your senses?
“Fuck!” You grappled with the corpse of a man, finding it tough to keep his clicking teeth away from your arm. He was pushing you back easily but you couldn’t let go to get to your knife. One wrong move would result in a chunk being ripped from your arm. Your muscles were tiring, being pushed to their limit. To make matters worse, you could see another walker shambling its way toward the scrap. There was no hope of fending off two of them. 
You cried out in frustration and lifted your foot to connect the toe of your boot roughly with the corpse’s knee, causing it to stumble. You had one shot. With your forearm pressing into its throat, you were able to grab your knife and sink the blade into the soft skull with a sickening squelch. There was no time to catch your breath as the second one slammed into your side and took off your feet. 
Your legs were pinned under its body, forcing you to battling at an awkward angle to stave off its attempts to rip into your thighs. Your knife was within reach, but grabbing it meant one side would be vulnerable. 
“Goddamnit! Get off me, you decaying bastard!” 
The walker shifted and gave you the opportunity to bend your right knee and place the sole of your boot against its abdomen. A solid kick forced it back. You were free to scramble backward and grab your knife, but when you lifted it to strike, you spotted another walker crawling toward you, its empty eyes giving you a glimpse of your fate. Ripped open, half eaten only to rise again; mindless and starving for a taste of flesh. 
This was it. You’d done all you could. You’d fight them to the death but they had you. It was only a matter of time before—
A bolt pierced the second walker, entering through its temple. It landed in the dirt with a dusty thud. You knew exactly what had happened and once the last walker was dead, you would survey the damage. You flung yourself forward and drove your knife through its right eye. It fell still, its weight heavy on your lap. 
“Goddamnit, Daryl!” You exclaimed. 
The hunter was on his knees at the water’s edge, swaying dangerously. The left side of his body was now void of the bolt, rivulets of blood dripping from his saturated shirt. His crossbow fell from his grip as he pitched forward to land on all fours. 
“Shit.” You wiggled free from beneath the walker, sheathing your knife before dropping to your knees beside Daryl. You laid a gentle hand on the middle of his back. “Hey, let’s get you over there so I can take a look at you.”
“Who—came with—you?” He asked breathlessly, his head remaining bowed as if he just didn’t have the strength to lift it. Hell, he probably didn’t. 
You knew he wouldn’t like the answer. You hated to upset him but you wouldn’t lie. “I came alone.” He visibly tensed, fingers digging into the dirt and rock below him. 
“Why—the fuck—would ya do that?”
“Because the horse came back without you. Because our baby needs their father.” You reached for his bicep and pulled him up onto his knees so that you were able to put his arm across your shoulders. “Because I was worried about you.” 
He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, his head still hanging. “S’a shit reason—to risk the—two’a ya.”
“Did you miss the other two reasons?” You shot back, getting your legs under you so you could lift him without pulling your back or stomach. “Selective hearing, I swear. On three: one. Two. Three!” You managed to get you both upright, but Daryl was quick to curl forward with a sound much too close to a whimper for your liking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“S’fine. Just—” He trailed off with a languid wave of his hand. You took that to mean he was ready to move and began the short walk to the tree. It didn’t take long but he was somehow even more pale and sweating by the time you helped lower him to recline against the trunk. “Found—found her doll.”
“What?” You weren’t really listening. With his shirt pulled up, you could get a good look at the wound. It was still bleeding sluggishly, but still far too much for your liking. “Did you really pull out that bolt?” You asked while leaning around him to see the back as best you could. 
“Y’ain’t—ain’t listenin’.” The hunter gave you a weak shove, barely moving you at all. “Found—Sophia’s doll.”
“She was here.” Looking around, you saw nothing and you would not leave him to go track. “Where’s the doll?” Daryl jutted his chin toward a downed tree that was close to the shallow water. Even going that meager distance from him felt like you were leaving him unprotected. However, you knew he would hound you until you obliged his request. 
You jogged over, your muscles tired and stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. Sure enough, there laid the doll. You snatched it up and returned to him, taking a moment to place the toy in your bag and pull out supplies. 
“How did this happen?”
“Fell—fell on it.”
“Graceful.” You smirked, ignoring the weak middle finger lifted toward you. “Let’s get this bleeding under control and get back to the farm.” You raised his shirt again but this time he seemed to take notice and went rigid. 
“It’ll keep, just leave it.”
Your mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious.” You admonished him. “I’m not sure you noticed but there is a literal hole in your side. We can’t go back without some sort of treatment first.” His usually bright blue eyes were cloudy when he looked at you. “It’s nearly dark. Stop arguing with me and let’s get this done.”
“Ain’t enough—time to—get back tonight.”
“We can’t stay here, Daryl. We’re sitting ducks.” You started grabbing other things you needed even as he tried to talk you out of it: food, water. 
“I can. Go on—back. Come back—back tomorrow—with help.” He winced when he pressed a palm against the wound so he could shift to a more comfortable position. 
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Y/N, s’not—”
“I said no, Daryl.” You reached for his shirt again and he didn’t stop you but there was a panicked undertone in his eyes. “Just far enough for me to see the wound, okay?” A visible relief; his shoulders dropped and he let his head fall back against the tree. 
The bleeding had slowed, showing signs that it was beginning to clot. That was great news but it didn’t replace all he had already lost. The wound needed a proper cleaning and stitches, both of which you were not well equipped. You could handle it if you had the supplies. You’d sewn yourself up plenty of times. 
With a sigh, you got up to fetch your flannel from where you’d left it near the rope. You were already tearing it into strips before you returned to Daryl’s side. You tried to be as quick as possible; taping down gauze, folding pieces of your flannel to press over those. Lacking enough to make a compression bandage, you tied pieces of material together. 
“Almost done.” You had to lean into his space to pull the makeshift bandage around his back. His tired eyes flitted back and forth between yours while you found yourself glancing at his lips. You cleared your throat and sat back on your heels. “This is gonna hurt but just try to be as quiet as you can.”
Daryl watched you for a moment and then nodded. He visibly tensed and closed his eyes a mere moment before you pulled the material tight around the wound. To his credit, he merely grunted but the hard lines of pain on his face told a different story. 
“There. That’s the best I can do right now.” You were beyond concerned. The thought of spending the night there with the archer being so grievously wounded was intimidating. You knew there was no other choice. One of the canteens was on the ground beside you where you had placed it when grabbing out supplies. If he was going to stand any chance of surviving, Daryl had to cooperate. This should be fun. “I need you to drink some water. You’ve lost a lot of blood. We have to keep you hydrated until we can get out of here.”
“Nah.” Much to your chagrin, he turned his head. “Ya need—it more—than I do.” He was beginning to look dazed, fighting off the overwhelming urge to allow his body to rest. 
“Stop being a brat and drink the water.” You pressed the canteen to his lips, dropping your mask to wear your concern like a second skin. “Please. I promise I have enough for me too.”
You thought he might argue or once again refuse, but he finally parted his lips with a sigh. You tilted the canteen, flinching when his much too cold hand covered yours to help control how much he was getting. 
“I need to build a fire. Keep it small.” You weren’t really talking to him but he hummed in response anyway. He was cold and clammy. You’d bet money that would be worthless in that world that if you checked his pulse, it would be racing. “I think you’re going into shock. I need to get you warm.”
“M’fine.” His voice was quiet, too drained to offer up a convincing tone. 
You went about gathering what you could find that could hold the highest possibility of burning. “You know what, keep telling yourself that. Maybe your stubbornness will pay off.” Placing some rocks down so you could control the flames, you placed your tinder bundle in the center along with some sticks and wood chips for kindling. You had to do this the old fashioned way. Daryl was watching you with slow blinks as you went about your method. 
You thanked whatever deity that was listening for your experience in the wilderness. You were nurtured by the woods growing up. The trees were like family, offering shade, protection, and a means of warmth or preparing your meals. You had learned the ways to survive. Granted, back then, walking corpses that wanted to eat your intestines weren’t a thing. Scared as you were, you knew you could make it. You could make it. But now, you had to keep Daryl alive as well. 
“Finally.” You sat back with a smug grin, watching the fire burn. You just hoped it would be enough. “Come on, let’s get you settled closer to the fire. Then I’ll heat the beans I have. Daryl swatted at your hands. 
“M’fine here.”
You huffed through your nose. “No, you’re not. Your skin is freezing. I don’t have any blankets. We need to keep you warm.”
“Fine.” He began to lever his way to his feet, growling with annoyance once you swooped in to help him. “Can do it—can do it myself.”
“Shut up and let me help.” You didn’t let go and he didn’t try to force you. He was panting by the time you lowered him down to lie on this back. He couldn’t be comfortable. “Um, one second.” There wasn’t a lot left of your flannel but you could make it work. Folding it to the best of your ability, you gently lifted his head and placed the article  beneath it. As an afterthought, you pulled the clean shirt you had grabbed for him and draped it over his upper half. It would have to do for the time being. “Okay, just rest and I’ll wake you for some food and water in a bit.”
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Hours passed agonizingly slowly. You had tried to get Daryl to eat but he had refused. At least he drank the water. You yourself had eaten a third of the can of beans. Everything seemed to be going alright until you found yourself regurgitating into the bushes. Your stomach was turning inside out, now rejecting even the water. 
Carol had warned you this would happen but you couldn’t wait. You didn’t regret it either. Daryl would have surely died had you not gone in search of him. 
Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you staggered back toward the fire. You were steps away when you realized that Daryl was—talking. And not just talking, but conversing. There’s no one there. 
It felt wrong in some ways to move closer; to be able to hear him. It was as if a person was sitting right next to him. Daryl’s eyes were open; mere slits but open. 
“Screw you.”
“A girl. They—lost a little—girl.”
“Shut up.”
“Tried like hell—to find ya, bro.”
Bro? Daryl had a brother. It was unknown if he was alive or dead. You only knew from Carol. Daryl never let you that close. He was hallucinating which was bad. Very bad. You took a step forward, ignoring your stomach’s protests for the time being. Should you wake him? 
“We went—back for ya. Rick an’ I, we—did right by ya.”
“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”
“Don’t talk—’bout her like that. Y/N—she’s—diff’rent.”
Wide eyes blinked. He was talking about you. Granted, it was during a moment of psychological weakness but still. It felt even more wrong to allow it to continue. 
“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us. Like you or me.”
Your heart ached for him. You knew nothing about Daryl’s childhood but now you knew it wasn’t pleasant. Shaking your head, you kneeled next to his arm and placed a hand against his cheek. No fever. This had to be coming from the head injury. “Daryl.” He seemed to be looking right through you. Still, he lifted a hand and let the back of his knuckles brush along your jaw. 
“See, Merle? Told ya—she was diff’rent.” His hand fell away, blue eyes disappearing behind heavy lids. 
“Daryl?” You said urgently, fingers searching along his neck for a pulse. It was there, albeit a little fast but there. You felt weak and allowed yourself to fall back onto your ass, scooting until your back was against the tree. 
From what Carol had told you, Daryl’s brother was vile. He was toxic and the younger Dixon had changed slightly without his influence. She had said Daryl was brash and intimidating, preferred to be alone. Hated to be touched. Yet he had sought out your company twice a week like clockwork. He had talked to you, brief and unimportant statements and questions, but he had talked. He had let you touch him. Intimately. 
“She’s—diff’rent.”
It was dangerous to let your mind wander down the paths it had created from his simple words to a brother who wasn’t there. But let it wander, you did. Maybe Daryl didn’t just care about the baby. Maybe he was impertinent toward you because you had gotten too close. Maybe you had managed to penetrate the walls he had built to protect himself. 
Maybe—just maybe—you had allowed him to pass through your own defenses. 
And that was more terrifying to you than any walking corpse in a dystopian world. 
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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months
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I just think that satyr konig needs to be bullied for everything he's done!!!
YES! Nymphs can get very crafty if you piss them off!
Perhaps they lure him into this golden green glade and summon some vines to tie him between two tall trees... Tickle him until he has a raging boner and roars, whole body wrenching in the bonds, this mighty satyr is the one who's helpless now and the nymphs just giggle when he commands to let him go or else he'll breed them all. What a dumb faun, he's not in a position to threaten anyone!
And he's getting desperate: these fickle women are only wearing a few leaves over their bodies, a flower or two in their hair, some don't even have that much to cover their nakedness... He can feel their nipples grazing his skin, pretty little teeth bite him all over as they dance around him like he's some celebrated, captured beast. Someone whispers naughty things in his ear, while another one draws a fingertip down his thigh, they admire his muscles but refuse to touch his cock :(
They toy with him until he's leaking on the ground, and climb him like a tree, hot bodies pressing flush against his side, breasts tickling him and lithe arms hanging onto him as they have fun with their new plaything in the sun. The nymphs even make a wreath of flowers and place it upon his head, laughter and titter filling the entire dale as they admire their sulking, flower-crowned, hairy forest king :((
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cultofdixon · 1 year
Text
Falling for the archer
What dating / being married to Daryl Dixon would be like • Grimes’ little sister!reader / Eldest Greene sister!reader [doin’ both cuz why tf not] • ANGST/SFW/NSFW
Requested by: @witch-of-letters
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Rick Grimes’ Little Sister
Dating
Let’s be real, Rick Grimes would wish he was still in a coma if he saw you—his little sister—with a man that tried to kill him for what he did to his older brother
But when you look a little deeper in that situation, he would’ve reacted the same way if someone had done that to you
But y’all weren’t together in the quarry. People assumed such by how comfortable Daryl was around you.
The man gave you an ounce of his trust in the very beginning because you didn’t treat him like an asshole [like a certain home wrecker cop…]
It grew from there and had its moments. Daryl didn’t want to act on this feeling growing inside of him until he knew that you felt the same way.
But you were also struggling with the same brewing feelings that you’ve had since the ambush on the quarry campsite. Daryl knew you had the strength to defend yourself, but the second he arrived he took out every sicko that came your way. That when it was all over, the archer quickly scanned your person to make sure you were alright
The two of you really wanted to ignore your feelings because of the whole “end of the world who would have time for this?” spiel but the universe had other plans.
2 incidents happened
Daryl drunkenly confessed his brewing feelings the night at the CDC and given that the man was drunk and you were in shock hearing that come from him, he simply wished he died right then and there thinking he must’ve scared you off. But when waking the next day to the worse hangover, he saw you sleeping on the couch across from him and a glass of water with some pain killers were placed on the table for him. He indeed didn’t scare you off but was afraid he ruined something
But the other incident was at the farm when the “walker” got shot and revealed itself to be Daryl. Rick had to pry you off Andrea when you managed to get a hold of her. Daryl heard about the incident from Glenn after he left the Greene house and went to recover in the comforts of his tent.
He had to go look for you once it was night enough to get some alone time with you.
“You’re a crazy son of a bitch for picking a fight”
“Maybe if you didn’t get hurt, didn’t get lost, and didn’t get shot by Ms. Trigger Happy—I wouldn’t have had to give her a piece of my mind”
“Why do you care so much for somebody like me?”
“Because I can! And I’m falling in love with you! I’m done ignoring my feelings…I couldn’t…I wouldn’t live with myself if you died without knowing how I felt”
Typical for the other party to confess their feelings first with Daryl Dixon. But all he needed was that confirmation before closing the space between the two of you and pressing his lips firmly against yours.
Yeah. Rick shouldn’t have been on watch that night cuz he saw y’all kissing. But given how you almost beat Andrea to a pulp, he wasn’t going to get in the way right away.
Daryl didn’t want to stop kissing you, or let you go for the matter. But he knew if you didn’t go back to your tent that night, someone would come looking for you. And he didn’t want anybody else in those moments that he just wanted it to be the two of you.
The two of you found small moments to be by yourselves and admire the other. Even when their time at the farm was getting cut short by a number of events.
Sophia…Dale…Shane…the fire
When the fire happened and everyone’s first thought was to get the hell out of there, that was when Rick knew for himself that Daryl wouldn’t do any harm given how protective the archer was when you were last to join back on the highway. He met you halfway checking every part of you before pulling you into his embrace and squeezing the life outta yea.
Guess you can say when the “indirect seal of approval” from Rick Grimes came into play, that you started dating Daryl.
Or whatever dating is in the apocalypse.
Daryl isn’t one to be flashy in the relationship and you respected that, but that didn’t stop him from at least trying.
He always wanted to be close to you in any sort of way, for the most part it was sitting next to you by the fire…on the overturn car keeping watch…in your cell…the list could go on.
Sometimes Daryl would take your hand when you’d least expect it and it brought on the butterflies. His hands made yours feel extremely small and brought on a lot of thoughts that were proven later.
The times you would be more intimate even if it was just a short kiss was when no one was around. As stated before. Daryl likes having these moments in private.
Daryl knew it could be a bit unfair, he didn’t want anyone else in your bubble and he especially didn’t like the way those who didn’t know about the two of you—look at you like your fair game. Really only the farm group knows.
But he will say he was amused by how you handled those situations.
“Hey good looking wanna—-“
“Nope. Go away” Y/N got up from the tables in the prison trying to physically leave and when the man cornered her. Daryl was about to to take care of this guy and reveal to everybody about the two, but suddenly the man met the concrete floor after Y/N grabbed the book she was reading off the table and using it as a weapon.
“Crazy bi—-“ he was cut off by her dropping her book on his face and walking away.
That lead to Daryl wanting to take a leap of faith one day.
“Y/N”
“Oh hey D. I just finished getting the truck ready for the run with Sasha later. Did yea—“
Daryl cut her off by pressing his lips against hers feeling her arms instinctively wrap around his neck.
To the Woodbury folk, it came as a shock. Meanwhile, Carol got Glenn’s oatmeal packets for the bet they made about how long it would take for them to be out and open about it.
Since then he’s been a bit more open to public affection.
He’s still not the biggest about it being public but he secretly likes it. Especially when he hears you talk about how great of a man he is to Maggie. Even if part of him doesn’t believe it.
It still takes what feels like forever to get Daryl to believe the words you say to him. He gets the warm feeling in his chest during the moment and you can tell when he starts to feel his insecurities get the best of him.
Which brings into discussion—his scars
He never wanted you to see them and you never pry.
There was a moment in Alexandria where you walked in on him changing and he felt his whole body tense when the door opened. But he instantly relaxed when he heard you say that you were turning around. He didn’t even get his shirt on when he approached you and wanting to get closer to you by letting you see what he’s most ashamed of.
That leap, lead to more. You’ve always felt loved with Daryl even when he doesn’t say it often, and with that moment of him showing his scars…his anxieties about losing you to someone better has washed away.
Now to be a bit more chaotic…
Daryl respected your boundaries and went at your speed when it came to sex. But according to you, he has a look that would get yea going and there was one time he unintentionally did said look when you were talking to your older brother
“Y/N yea listening?” Rick waves his hand in front of your face as you were focused on Daryl looking your direction.
Daryl was waiting to go on a run with you and didn’t know that he was giving you that “look” when you were trying to take down what Rick needed.
“Y/N!” Rick yells only for his sister to sock him in the gut in response.
“I heard you! Now I gotta take fucking care of something before we go” You state before approaching Daryl and grabbing him by the arm heading back inside to take care of “business”.
[A/N: I used pronouns and then didn’t use pronouns in this,,,so my bad]
“The look” is really just taking up any opportunity. Not that Daryl’s complaining.
But there was one morning when you woke before Daryl could leave the bedroom first because Rick knows y’all are dating but doesn’t know y’all share a bedroom…
Bc you didn’t in the prison to respect Daryl’s feelings about feeling confined in a cell
You entered the living room without checking if Daryl left your bed or not and was about to get some water when Rick asked what you were doing last night.
Then cue Daryl coming down thinking Rick wouldn’t be in there and being met with the man’s attention.
“That’s what you were doin’ last night”
“…Yes”
“Yknow four people live in this place right”
“Yes”
“Y/N—-“
“Does Carl know about you and Michonne?”
“Okay. I’m just gonna ignore this so you don’t use that against me”
Engaged to Married
Daryl’s thing when going on runs is finding trinkets or anything that’ll make you smile. That was the one thing you’ve kept with you since the fall of the prison to after the wolves attack.
Daryl found you placing the things he found you on the shelves in your shared room because they bring you joy.
That one day, you went into your room after a long day and saw a small box. Being confused by the new item, you picked it up and opened it.
Only for all of Alexandria to hear you scream off the top of your lungs. If Daryl didn’t inform some…yeah people would think someone broke in again
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”
Daryl stood at the gazebo watching Y/N approach him with the ring box in hand.
“Why didn’t you do this the right way?!”
“Uhm. Because…” Daryl took the box and instantly got down on one knee to open it presenting it to Y/N. “I planned this out…and I’m asking you now. Will yea marry me?”
“Yes! I will always say yes!”
Daryl didn’t have to ask for Rick’s blessing, because the two went on a run together when the archer found the ring and was like “You should propose with that, when yea ready”
As much as the group literally had a pastor—-the two of you wanted Rick to officiate and you kept it intimate. With only the group you first came to Alexandria with. And Aaron and Eric. The only Alexandrians Daryl trusted so far.
Being married, honestly didn’t feel very different to Daryl. Except that you two now have a place for yourselves and he really didn’t have to worry about any other guy looking your direction.
Besides. The man likes to leave marks in obvious places. Even slightly before y’all got married, no one even tried because you were marked and Daryl scared most of the men.
Waking up next to you in your own place was the best. Daryl didn’t have to get up right away and not alone for the matter. He’d roll over if he wasn’t already facing you and bring you close that you tiredly wrap yourself around him. The morning sex is a bonus too
You would always take his sweatshirts which were his least worn shirt until much later. He loved seeing you in his shirts but more specifically when he’d come home to you wearing only his shirt.
The two of you gained a routine where either of you would always throw up “I love you” in sign language whenever he went on runs or you would see him during your break from the infirmary. Daryl signed such to you when he was being whisked away by the Saviors and that was the only time it broke you.
Even when all the bad happened and you reunited, the promise Daryl made the day you were married…you made again when he latched onto you the second you walked through Hilltop’s doors.
I will always be by your side until the end, even if someone or something gets in the way. I will always find my way back to you.
The Eldest Greene Sister
Dating
Hershel wasn’t the only one to not like the new comers. But you were more open to bringing people in than he was.
“You don’t know what they’ll do”
“I know for a fact that they wanted to save their kid. What happens next? We’ll approach it with an open mind, old man”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Please”
“Sorry dad”
You and your sister Maggie were the only open minded ones when it came to the two officers and an injured child, multiplying into a whole group.
And Maggie wasn’t the only one that gained an interest in someone in their group.
But you were more risky with the whole “take on the biggest man in the room” in a literal and non-literal sense.
Daryl noticed how relaxed you were when things got heated with the group vs the Greene family. But also noticed a part of you didn’t really care for what your family argued. Guess you were also the black sheep in your family.
The first time the two of you ever talked was about trying to find Sophia. The group wanting to rest up while the archer wanted to go back out there and given the few protests. You figured you’d help the guy without any of them knowing.
Little did you know that he’d take your stubborn bitch of a horse.
The group that came knew Daryl had left to look for Sophia but the Greene family didn’t know that you went out after him. Because again, your horse is easily startled. Finding Daryl wasn’t the hardest thing in the world because these were your woods, your solitude even in this new hell. You ignored your horse completely when you realized that its rider is no longer on him or in the surrounding area.
Daryl thought he was hallucinating when you found him. Given he’s been seeing Merle. You were instantly stressed out given the arrow in his side and didn’t even think about bringing any form of first aid.
“Are you an Angel?”
Y/N laughs to the question as she pressed down on the bleeding wound making him grip onto her arm. “Far from it, honey”
That pet name stuck.
As you were helping Daryl walk back to the farm after several moments of him talking to the blood loss. You heard the yelling and thought nothing of it but when a few of the men from his group came running toward the two. It clicked that he must’ve been labeled as a Walker by their lookout. As the group got closer and it was revealed to them who it was…your anxiety got the best of you shoving Daryl quickly to the ground and that’s when the shot rang through.
Daryl groans from impact and heard the thud beside him seeing the eldest Greene sister through blurred vision gripping her arm.
Who woulda thought almost dying is what brought y’all together
I’m kidding.
But it did show to Daryl that you weren’t a threat of any kind. Even if you did prove that to him a few times already.
The two of you grew close when it was revealed that Sophia was one of the walkers in the barn. He didn’t think he had to hear what you had to say…let alone be vulnerable
“Why do yea care?”
“Are you serious?”
“Look sunshine—I don’t need to fucking hear some “it happens for a reason” bullshit out your ranch hand mouth just le—-“
“Nah. You listen here, sugar.” Y/N shoved Daryl back knowing damn well he was still recovering. Hell so was she. “A fuckton of my family was in there and I didn’t know what my bitch of an old man was doing until the rest of y’all knew. I’ve lost enough of people to know that shit happens at random. But as long as I knew…it wouldn’t eat me alive for the rest of my life. I hated not knowing what happened but sometimes that just happens too…isn’t it better to know that this happened instead of beating yourself up for not findin’ her?”
“…She wasn’t even mine”
“Doesn’t mean it don’t hurt yea too”
Something about what you said, glued him to your side and you weren’t complaining. Because who woulda thought at the end of the world you found someone that understands yea. Even if some of the things you say, worries the guy.
You’re an honest person and everyone appreciates that. Daryl especially.
But sometimes your honesty sparks unwanted anxiety and made few turn a bit resentful even if you were also the one that would do anything and everything to provide for the group.
Even before y’all became official, Daryl found himself silently checking up on you and one night at the prison before the infusion of new people…You sat beside him outside the prison leaning against him and letting him keep you close.
The prison era is when y’all confessed. Or more so Daryl did…and you returned once you “returned”
The medicine got to their people in time before anymore could go through death’s door. But as the others woke up, you still laid unconscious. Daryl never left your side the second the medicine got in and his anxiety got the best of him when your breathing would stop for strange periods that made him think he’d have to do CPR.
“You can’t leave me…you can’t. I won’t forgive yea” Daryl frowns bringing your unconscious form into his arms bringing her close. “How could yea. How could yea come into my life and made me feel a certain way that I have never felt—just for you to leave me. This isn’t better. Waiting isn’t great. I need to know if yea with me til the end or not…”
“Mm…ain’t gettin rid of me, honey”
Hershel was about to check on you when he heard sobbing. He thought you died and your old man held a lot of regret for how he treated you but when he saw Daryl holding you in his embrace sobbing even harder when you held onto him.
It always takes stressful situations to bring few together.
You were official in that moment but neither you or Daryl did more than hold hands until Carol needed a favor in getting your archer to take a shower.
“D, you busy?”
“Yea gonna force me to be nice to people too?”
“Nah. I don’t trust it here that much either. But the house is empty”
Daryl looks at you confused but quick to notice you were only wearing a robe.
“And what are yea planning with an empty house?”
“Fuck if I know…but no one would be around to hear me screaming your name in the shower…” You smirk heading back inside as Daryl sat there for a second longer before leaving his crossbow and following after you.
Daryl wasn’t the only one to bear scars from his past. You knew about his before you saw them as did he. The two of you would talk a lot at night just watching the stars from the prison so you knew what his father did and he knew what yours did…but also yourself.
He didn’t hold back with worshiping your body and making you feel loved every second of every day since that moment.
Married
Alexandria made the two you feel safe in a slow manner but you had each other and that’s what is important.
Neither of you wanted anything fancy or really a ceremony. You two just. Found some rings and went from there. He loves calling you his wife whenever he got the chance to do so.
Maggie was mad that you gave her a wedding and you didn’t let her give you one.
Being married was being more intimate. Your dating phase was more so becoming even closer with the other.
Marriage didn’t feel different. Except for the fact that you two were given a place of your own and y’all decided to christen every room in the place.
You were more of a jealous person when the two of you became husband and wife compared to girlfriend and boyfriend. People were once afraid of Daryl. Now he’s a provider and some of the ladies would stare at the man. But little did he know that he had an attack dog.
It was hot how jealous you can get but not when you start threatening to hit people.
Your jealousy level is about the same equivalence to Daryl’s over protectiveness. Man needs to know where you’re at when you’re not right beside him. And tying the knot did have y’all doing a lot of shut together. But sometimes Daryl would find himself panicking when he hasn’t found you within the first hour of returning home after a run.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothin’”
“…If you want to join me in the shower you could just do so instead of sitting on the bathroom sink waiting for me to finish”
________
Author’s note:
Me: *writing this*
Internet history: *eight closed tabs about different definitions for the word “Headcanon”*
This is my first one…like. Ever. I hope I did it justice
723 notes · View notes
annwrites · 26 days
Text
ain't about to take any risks
— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader
— type: ficlet
— summary: the group debates what is to be done with randall. shane is the only one interested in your opinion. dale is sure you'll agree with him.
— tags: thinking back on past moments with shane, conversing
— tw: mentions of sex, mentions of rape, debating murder
— word count: 1,687
— a/n: in this version of events, shane & andrea have never had sex. & while i think her feelings toward him only really manifested after that afternoon in the front seat of his car, i've implied in this that she has a thing for him anyway.
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Shane looks at you then. “Y/N-baby, been awful quiet. Like to hear your thoughts on it.”
Dale speaks before you can. Not that you want to. You don’t entirely like being made the sudden center-of-attention to begin with anyway.
“Well, obviously she agrees with me. She’d never advocate for cold-blooded murder like this.” He looks at you. “Right?”
You shift from one foot to the other. You look at Daryl then. “You’ve spent more time with him in the barn than most of us. What, exactly, has he said to you?”
Daryl glances from you, to Dale, to Shane, then to the floor. “Told me this one story, ‘bout the guys he was with. How this one night they came across this camp—a dad and his two daughters. ‘Real cute-like’ was how he described ‘em. Said the other guys took turns, made the dad watch. That they didn’t even bother to kill ‘em after. ‘Course he told me that ‘he isn’t like that’. It was just somethin’ in the way he talked about it. Like…I don’t know. Like he got off on it, or somethin’. Made me wanna put an arrow through his skull.”
Your stomach turns. You’re quiet for a moment, glancing to Shane, then you look at Dale. “I understand his standing by as witness. I’m sure if he’d so much as tried to stop them, they would’ve killed him. It was self-preservation. He’d be dead and…they still would’ve done it anyway. But to talk about it in the manner Daryl described…” You shake your head, crossing your arms. “To describe those girls like that…it’s clear what kind of man he is. If he’d shown any amount of remorse, I’d feel differently. So I agree with Shane.”
Shane gives you a small smile, standing up a bit straighter.
Dale looks absolutely flabbergasted. “I can’t believe I’m getting out-voted over something so…so-”
Shane cuts him off, shifting his weight from one hip to the other. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on you all the while. “If I ever saw that bastard near her,” he nods his head in your direction. “I’d drop ‘em several times over. I ain’t about to take any risks over the woman I…”
He pauses for just a moment. The two of you had said it a handful of times so far. And only after the first time you’d had sex. That warm, perfect day far away from the farmhouse. Far from the rest of the camp.
He’d taken your virginity, just like he’d offered to, and in that moment, with him sheathed inside of you, whispering sweet nothings against your ear as he made love to you so painstakingly slowly…something shifted. And the both of you could no longer deny that something more—some invisible bond—was binding the two of you. Had been all along since he saved you from staying back at the quarry.
But the two of you had agreed to keep your new, blossoming relationship just between you. To keep moments of true, physical intimacy either in his tent, or in that field you returned to time and again to feel your bare skin upon one another.
You didn’t need to risk someone sticking their nose in your business and trying to come between you—trying to ruin what you’d just found; just formed, and were slowly building.
You’d both lost enough. You weren’t about to lose one another, too. Especially after Shane had put forward so much effort in saving you over and over again. In taking care of, and protecting, and providing for you without asking for anything in return, but for you to finally try and live. For him, if nothing else.
You both knew people in the camp suspected.
Shane was gradually, as time went on, trying less and less to hide it. He’d give you a quick kiss on the cheek or top of your head here or there, whisper something in your ear—both of you pulling away from the other laughing—or giving each other lustful looks, heat pooling between your thighs as he told you the things he’d been thinking about doing to you all day. Or, you’d serve him lunch, him even once pulling you into his lap when it was late and half your people were gathered around the campfire chatting or eating.
Lori had cornered you one day in the kitchen about it. You’d just finished helping Maggie tend to the garden—pulling weeds and harvesting the fruits and vegetables that were ready to be eaten—and were washing off, and cutting up, and preserving when she’d come inside, seeking you out.
She’d asked Maggie if she would please give the two of you a moment alone, which she had of course obliged.
And then she’d asked if something were going on between you and Shane, and what it was, exactly, at that.
You’d remained quiet for a moment, setting some tomatoes in a bowl to begin drying off before you’d simply shrugged and said how you didn’t see it being anyone’s business but yours and his.
She gently grabbed your arm, turning you around toward her, the look on her face one of pure concern. “Honey, I don’t think you understand the kind of man he is. What he’s done, and-”
You’d promptly crossed your arms over your chest. “We’ve talked at length about the things he’s done. And even if none of them had anything to do with me, I still granted him my forgiveness when he asked me for it, because it was that important to him that he have it.”
She’d been left speechless for a moment. Long enough that you’d turned back around to begin scrubbing the potatoes of the dirt and soil they were covered in.
“Y/N, you’re young. And Shane is…he knows what he’s doing. He’s been with plenty of women before. Whereas you’ve-”
“Like you?”
She had shut her mouth instantly. “If you think this is jealousy, it isn’t. I’m just trying to look out for you; trying to prevent him from taking advantage of your youth, or your vulnerability. You don’t have anyone left to do that for you anymore.”
“Except him. He’s the only one who bothered to save me time and again when all I wanted—more than anything—was to give up and die. He refused to let that happen. I wouldn’t be standing here listening to someone else lecture me on how they know better than I do without him.” You’d turned back around then, bowl of tomatoes held between your arms. “I need to get these to Patricia, excuse me.”
Just as you were nearly out of the kitchen, you threw over your shoulder “Feel free to help if you have nothing better to do.”
You and Lori hadn’t spoken since that day. You had thought, after, that perhaps you’d been too harsh. You knew where her concern primarily stemmed from: the night in the library at the CDC. When Shane told you about it…you’d remained silent for a long while after, unsure of what to do. What to say. You felt afraid of him, even for a moment. The fact he could even think to do such a thing…to anyone—it didn’t matter that she had jilted him or not. It was inexcusable.
When you had looked at him, he’d been staring at you, his eyes red, and he’d told you he understood if you wanted him to stay away from you from now on. That maybe it was true: you deserved better.
You’d told him you didn’t want that, but that that action…it wasn’t for you to forgive. He’d nodded, understanding what you meant. He’d promised he would never hurt you like that, no matter what the future held.
You believed him.
Even Andrea had seemed a bit…jealous when she saw Shane so close to you nearly all the time now. Whenever he was in camp—he refused to let you go on runs unless it was with him, which typically translated to finding an abandoned house so you had a proper bed to have sex in—he was almost always pressed up against your side, his hands on your hips, your lower back, cupping your cheek, gripping your chin… A few times his hand had been high on your thigh, sometimes nearly touching you there—his way of silently asking to be alone with you for awhile.
She’d given you the cold shoulder for a couple days after she had once asked Shane if he wanted to go on a run and he had told her he didn’t intend to go out that day, but had then loaded you into his Hyundai later that afternoon, slipping a few small square wrappers into his pocket, adjusting himself over his pants, before climbing into the driver’s side and taking off from the farm like a bat out of hell.
Shane sighs for a moment, glancing down to his boots, then back up to you, silently asking for permission to finally give them all the truth you’re sure half of them are already well-aware of you.
You give him a small smile.
He continues. “I ain’t about to take any risks over the woman I love. I’ve almost lost her three times already. I ain’t about to let there be a fourth. I’ll put a bullet in his chest before that ever even comes close to happenin’. You can all bet your damn lives on that.”
You hear someone scoff, and you’re sure it’s Andrea, but you don’t care. Let them think what they wish. You were growing tired of people like Lori and Hershel treating Shane—someone who had kept the group alive and for so long—like the devil.
She had taken him for granted. Tossed him aside like he’d never mattered in the first place when Rick came back to her. You understood her reuniting with her previously-thought-dead husband, but to act like Shane had never been of any importance to start with? After all he’d done for her and Carl? After tearing himself apart, thinking his best friend was dead for all that time?
You wouldn’t be making that same mistake.
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1427 · 3 months
Text
When the Levee Breaks (pt. 4)
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Daryl Dixon x OFC
The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?
Chapt. Setting: Highway outside of Atlanta. 
Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, degrading behavior, season 2 Daryl, smut, oral (m receiving)(kind of) weird. Just weirdo perv (out of desperation) Daryl. 
Word Count: 3200
A/N; Daryl’s POV 😩🤷‍♀️ 17+ mdni
masterlist
Been keepin’ Merle’s stuff pretty well hidden. Guess I should probably just get rid of it, right? But I can’t. S’not mine to get rid of. So I just hide it. Separate bag from the rest of his meds, all the way at the bottom of a backpack, stuffed under the seat of my truck. 
Beatle says she’s been sober off spazz shit for three years. Pretty sure three years ago s’when I met her though, so I’unno how she figures that. 
But now we’re ditchin’ the truck and I gotta find a way to carry it without Beatle finding it. Don’t even have time to be upset about my truck. Had it for at least the last ten years. Loved this thing like it was the only thing I had. Basically was for a while. 
Takin’ Merles bike. It’s got some dumbass Nazi shit on it, but ‘m not complainin’. That shit don’t matter anymore. Neither does bein’ upset over a truck that’s not gonna do me any good without gas. 
Pack myself two bags. One goes with Beatle in Dale’s RV, the other is the pack I’d had stuffed under the seat. Spazz gets hidden underneath a few shirts, smokes, the couple sips left of girlwhiskey, and the rest of Merle’s scripts. Stuff I don’t trust Beatle with.  
I think she knows, too. She doesn’t say it but she gives me a look when I tell her ‘m holdin’ onto it. I offer her a whole cigarette. All for herself. And it shuts her up enough not to push it. 
Don’t know if I like when she’s happy or not. Kinda makes me feel sick so I try not to think about it. Dunno. Whatever. Don’t got time to think about that shit anyway. S’always somethin’. 
Don’t really even got the time to think about what a shit show the CDC was. Just gotta keep movin’. Guess the plan is Fort Bennet? Don’t know. Don’t care. ‘m just goin’. 
It’s nice to be back on a bike again. Can’t feel nothin’ but the vibrating underneath me and the air in my face. Can’t hear nothin’ but the engine. By myself. Like all this shit hasn’t happened…
No use in thinkin’ ‘bout it that way, though. Has happened. And I ain’t gonna be one of those sorry sacks that wants to pretend shit ain’t the way it is. That’s one thing I like Beatle for. She don’t pretend shits gonna go back. Don’t miss nothin’, ain’t lookin’ for no one. Far as I see it, she’s happy mostly. Guess it’s easy when someone’s takin’ care of everything for ya. Me. Giving her my smokes and buildin’ fires for my damn self, thinkin’ everything tha’s mine is hers. It ain’t. 
Other people makin’ plans. Other people findin’ shelter. Other peoples food. 
Too many people in this group ain’t pullin’ their own weight. It’s gonna catch up sooner or later. Beatle’s a weak player. Can’t decide if I should help her out or not. Can’t decide if I should protect her or not. Cuz she don’t want it, she don’t think she needs it. But she’s gonna need it. Sooner or later. 
Cuz I know I hate her and all that. Dumb fuckin’ bitch for sure. But after what happened at the CDC? Thought we were gonna die. Thought she was gonna die. Fuck. I’unno. Guess I felt somethin’. 
I’m in between knowin’ it and hatin’ it. It can be both right? Cuz it’s definitely both. One more thing I gotta care about. Real fuckin’ stupid. 
We’re only on the road a few hours before shit blows. Literally. Dales radiator. Good ‘n done. Then more bullshit happens but ain’t that the way shit is now?
A whole herd of ‘em come through and everyone’s fine. Andrea’s havin’ a panic attack ‘bout the geek that almost ate ‘er, Carol’s kid run off into the woods, and T-Dog’s all but bled out. But to me? Basically fine. No one’s dead or nothin’. 
Don’t know where Beatle was when the herd came. But she’s fine too, and any worryin’ I’d been doin was a waste of fuckin’ time. Not gonna waste any more of it bein’ mad I was worried in the first place. That I couldn’t think ‘bout anything else. Just images of her stupid happy face gettin’ ripped apart. Guess I care now. At least ‘bout her not bein’ dead. ‘Bout her bein’ here.
She’s standin’ outside the RV with me, sharing a cigarette cuz I don’t know how else to tell her I’m glad she’s alive. Can’t stop lookin’ at her. She’s either ignoring my staring or pretendin’ I ain’t doin’ it, and ‘m grateful. Don’t wanna talk ‘bout that shit. Just wanna look at her, and fix all those images in my head. Her face still happy and perfect and smilin’ at me like it wasn’t bein’ eaten by monsters a few minutes ago. 
I feel sick. Somethin’… different. 
“Can I just hug you, please?” She asks like she’s been waitin’ to say it. 
“Why?” I squint at her, dragging the smoke. Kinda want to - kinda mad she asked instead of just doin’ it, “Since when do you ask permi-“ I’m cut off by her body wrapped around mine. All four limbs holdin’ on like I’m keepin’ her anchored to the world. 
I hug her back, arms pulled tight around her. Why am I doing this? What the fuck is this? Goin’ fuckin’ soft for some dumb little girl. I can hear Merle laughin’ at me from inside my head, and I drop Beatle back down to the pavement. 
“I’m glad you’re alive.” She says, and I look down at her. Now she’s all covered in the gross shit I’m covered in. She doesn’t seem to care. Doesn’t even seem to notice. 
“Yeah?” I say at her, cuz I don’t know what else to say. Can’t tell her Im glad she’s alive. Can’t give her that. I hugged her back, that’s enough. She should know. 
She nods, smiling that stupid fuckin’ smile that I’m startin’ to like. ‘Fore her face starts wrinklin’ up somethin’ nasty. There it is. She looks at me, then down at herself. “What the fuck, Daryl?” 
Me?! “‘Pleeeease can I hug you, Daryl?’” I mock her. 
“I was worried!! And then you’re alive and okay and I  didn’t have time to look at you covered in guts and shit!” She squeals. I swear she knows it irritates me. I can see her goin’ to punch me in the arm so I let her, then pull her into another hug. 
Grabbin’ at her head to bring it close to my chest, covered in week old decaying monster meat, “C’mon, Beatle. Gimme a hug!” She’s tryin’ to fight it but ‘m stronger. 
She bends her knees and slips down and out of my arms. The blood on my hands making her too slippery to hold onto. She starts runnin’. I run after her til we get to the side of the road and she tries to hide underneath the trunk of a car crashed into the rail. 
Maybe this ain’t the time for fuckin’ around, but it don’t matter. Not when I finally got her cornered. The look of fear in her eyes does somethin’ to me. Not real fear.  Naw, cuz she’s smilin’. Cuz she’s laughin’. Just excited that we’re both still breathing. Still, smile on her face and laugh in her throat, she’s cowering beneath a cars trunk, beggin’ me to stop. The beggin’s doin’ somethin’ to me too. Fuck. 
I pick her up, slingin’ her over my shoulder, she yelps. Don’t she know how this shit works yet? “Fuckin’ quiet, Beatle. Dumb bitch.” I slap her ass once and she fuckin’ yelps again. “Wha’ did I just say?” And I slap her ass again. This time she’s quiet. 
Shit, that worked? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. My dicks hard. 
I’unno if it’s cuz I never carried a girl over my shoulder like this, cuz I spanked her couple times, or cuz she listened. My dick gets even harder and I realize it’s definitely fuckin’ all of it. But mostly that she listened when I told her what to do. Maybe I should tell her what to do more often. Fuck. ‘m not helpin’ myself, or my problem, at all. 
I dip my head down to smell the sick I’m covered in to make it go away. It works. Even with her ass next to my face. So close I could bite it. For fucks sake. I put her down but she doesn’t run away this time. We walk slowly back to the group. Not sayin’ nothin’. Me, cuz I’m trying to focus on the smell of rotten flesh and definitely not Beatle beggin’ me to stop. Definitely not about what her face looked like when she felt my hand on her ass.  
Wonder if she’s quiet cuz she’s thinkin’ about it too.
 Wondering what she’s thinkin’ about and tryin’ to will away a stiffy. Fuck this fuckin’ high school bullshit. Like she reads my mind, I feel her needy little fingers snake into my hand. For a second I think maybe I’m smokin’ a cigarette I don’t remember havin’ but ‘m not. She’s just tryin’ to hold my hand. 
At first it feels nice, and then I feel sick again. Too many questions unanswered. Too much shit that’s already happened. Can’t trust her. So I shake her hand off, “Stop.” 
“Fine. Fuck you.” She stomps away and back into the RV. I’unno what the fuck’s wrong with me that it makes me smile. Do I like when she’s happy? Shit, I dunno. If I did, wouldn’t I not like it when she’s upset? So why does her being mad at me do it for me too? 
✨🏹
Whatever. 
She comes with me to go look for Sophia. Andrea stood up like she was gonna come too, but once Beatle and I are standin’ next to the RV Andrea doesn’t follow us out.
 We don’t stray too far from the road. It’s dark, and mostly just came out here to help ease Carol’s mind. ‘m definitely goin’ soft. But I’unno. Hurts to watch people lose stuff. Their families. Hurts to watch people hurt. 
Gonna hurt Beatle in a fuckin’ second if she doesn’t shut the fuck up. We’re walkin’ through the woods. At night. She’s gotta know this shit by now. “Beatle, keep your fuckin’ voice down. Please.” Did I just say please? Fuck me. 
“Did you just say ‘please’?” Fuck. Me. 
“Shut up.” 
“Don’t think I know how.” 
“Yeah, no shit.” She laughs, and it makes me smile. And that makes me feel sick to my stomach. Again. 
Her voice cuts through while I’m makin’ myself even sicker thinkin’ about it, “You wanna play another game?”
My eyebrows raise in her direction, “Yeah, that went real well for ya last time.” 
“Nevermind.” Her face falters and she crosses her arms across her chest. 
“What, you don’t wanna get half naked and cry again?” And for fuckin’ once I wish Beatle had somethin’ to say back. Some smartass shit that isn’t even funny but she definitely means it to be. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything. She just lets my question hang in the fuckin’ air and suffocate me. Cuz now I’m thinkin’ about her half naked and crying and my fuckin dicks hard again. What is this shit? Rock hard cock every time I pick on her now? ‘m not gonna be able to do this. She’s gonna notice. Where the fuck is a guy supposed to jerk off and relieve some of this shit? 
On her fuckin’ face.
Shit.
She’s been quiet for too long and my brain won’t stop. It’s just getting worse. Images of her now, her face covered in my cum, her lips humming together making little bubbles with it, smiling. Shit. 
Beatle, say something. Anything.
“How big’s your dick?” Not. Fucking. That. 
She listens… right? She wants it, right? Why else would she ask that? Now, when it’s just the two of us out in the woods in the dark. She wants me to show her. 
So show her.
“Beatle.” My voice is low, barely there. Just a rasp of a word. 
She turns around, ready to explain herself before she even looks at me, “I-“ 
“C’mere.” If I don’t cut her off she’s gonna say she was just jokin’ but we both know she ain’t jokin’. She wants ta know. So she’s gonna know. 
Feel like I can see her blushin’ in the moonlight as she walks toward me, even though I can’t. Just know she is. Smile on her face like I ain’t about to wipe it off with my cock. Shit, hard as a fuckin’ rock right now. I rub my palm over the length of it, and I watch her eyes follow my arm down. Watch ‘em get bigger, wide and nervous, and it makes my dick twitch against my jeans. I pull out a smoke and light one, for a second I see a disappointment in her face, thinkin’ maybe I’d just called her over to share a smoke. Naw. “Down on your knees.” 
And Jesus Christ, does she kneel so fuckin’ fast. She stares straight ahead, and somethin’ comes over me. Can’t wait. Don’t want to. Don’t need to. Beatle does what I ask, at least when it comes to this. Like a good little slut would. That is what she’s good at, ain’t it? 
So maybe it’s a little fucked up that I grab her head and force her against the rough fabric of my jeans. Pushing my cock into her cheek as hard as I fuckin’ can. Holding her by the hair and rubbing her face on me. 
But this little bitch moans. At first I wasn’t sure, but she keeps fuckin’ moaning. She likes this. Somethin’ close to a laugh escapes my throat, past the cigarette between my lips. I take it with my fingers, letting one hand go from her head, the other hand pulls her back to look up at me. Her expression absolutely blown. She just looks at me for a second, before putting her face back on my cock on her own. It’s not the same amount of pressure but it still feels fuckin’ good. And somethin’ about her doin’ it on her own. Like she can’t fuckin’ help it. Like she needs it. 
She’s starts to lick at the fabric right where my head is and my dick spasms again at the sight of it. This time she can feel it underneath her mouth. She smiles up at me, smirkin’ down at her. Putting the cigarette in my mouth, I drag it, before bringing it down to her lips. A little reward for listening. 
She drags it once and I drop it on the ground. Beatle says “Thank you.” In the smallest voice I ever heard come out of her mouth. Fuck. I could fall in love with this Beatle. It’s just your dick talkin’ Dar, don’t get crazy. 
I grunt a laugh and start to unbuckle my belt. Unbutton my pants. Barely have my cock in my hand ‘fore her mouths around it. I pull her back by her hair, sharply. She winces in pain and reaches up to her head where I’m holdin’ on. Her eyes shoot up to look at me. 
God, fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have that image burned in my brain for the rest of my life. Her face, all discomfort and contempt because I won’t let her touch me. Like she’s fuckin’ dying for it. “Nah, keep your mouth shut Beatle. Gotta learn ta do what yer told.” 
She nods, and closes her lips. Looking from my eyes back down my body again. I lean back, takin’ myself in my hand and pressing my cock into her face. 
For a while I just rub myself all over, letting her feel the weight of it. Letting her know just how big it really fuckin’ is. Lifting it off her face and smackin’ her cheeks. Makin’ her flinch, her eyes squish closed but I press my hard cock against her eye and push up forcing her eyelid open. Fuck. I do the same thing with her lips. Smushing and rubbing the head of it into her lips to open them, I fuck against her mouth for a second. Beatles groaning and moaning but she doesn’t open her mouth. Somethin’ about it makes me need to cum. Now. No more fuckin’ around. “Open up.” 
She does. I spit into her open mouth, and she moans again, without swallowing it. Like a good slut. “Fuck, Beatle. Shit. Now stick your tongue out.” 
She does. I can see my spit falling off her tongue and I quickly catch it with my cock, before smearing as much of the slick spit from her mouth onto me. Taking myself from the base, holding hard to cut off the circulation. Always feels better when I do that. Rubbin her tongue with my cock til I can’t fuckin take it anymore. I’m about to fuckin’  cum. I pull away for only a second, my breathings all fucked and I can barely speak, “Close yer mouth.” She looks confused for a second but closes her mouth. Good. Was about to smack her. 
My left hand finds a place on the back of her head again, gripping into her hair to hold her in place. I push my hips forward and put the whole length across her face. My other hand pressing myself down into her from above her. And I fuck myself on her face. Grunting and sloppy and desperate to cum. Never done this before, shit, does anyone do this? But fuck, it’s so fuckin’ hot. Her lips and her cheeks and her eyelids and her nose all squished and being fuckin’ ruined by my cock. Shit.  Fuck. 
Right as I’m about to cum I put both hands around her head and hump her face like… I don’t even know. I feel fuckin’ insane, but she’s still moaning at the feeling of being used. Not even in a way that should be enjoyable to her. 
I don’t think I’ve ever cum that much in my whole fuckin’ life. Most of it ends up in Beatle’s hair, but there’s still a whole lot of it on her face. I mess with it for a second. Swirling my puffy post-nut dick in it before I get oversensitive. 
I put myself away, and sit down on the ground next to Beatle. Still in the exact same position. I let her kneel there, don’t tell her she can move or nothin’. Guess that’s why she doesn’t. Don’t think she can open her eyes either. S’funny. 
Relighting the short I’d dropped to the ground, I pull a bandana from my pocket. “Is it big, Beatle?” I ask her while I wipe only her mouth off, and put the cigarette between her lips. 
She sucks on the filter, and smiles. “Yep.”
Eventually I wipe off her eyes too. Can’t do anything about her hair though, so I promise to find her a hat from one of the cars on the walk back. 
And I don’t let myself think about what this might mean. Who cares? I don’t. Don’t think Beatle does neither. We’re just goin’. 
pt 5
A/N: Yeah okay,  I know. Daryl’s all back and forth. Does he not give a shit about Merle and Beatle? Does he know deep down they never did anything together? Or maybe he just wasn’t thinking about it at the time? He’s confused, guys. He also really doesn’t have all the information (Eventually he’s gonna ask but first we have to deal with Sophia. Sorry. I don’t want to either.)
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platypus-quacks-too · 14 days
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A not complete, neither lucid post-mortem (ha!) list of thoughts after the series finale:
I enjoyed it overall. It was good. It ended probably the only way it couldn't end. Still, I was hoping for a more hopeful note. There was, but it also felt very much bittersweet. I mean, I knew I would have cried. I've always known that. But boy, did I cry.
This said, the first episode was some of the toughest 20 minutes of television I watched in my recent years. Of course you say, there are dramatic things out there but also consider this is a comedy, and we were with the coopers for the last 7 years.
What was more heartbreaking: Missy's anger, Mary's regret, Georgie sudden weight of responsability? Yes. And then there was Sheldon's endless loop of regret, replaying in his mind over and over his last moment with George. And it was Spock's latest words, and it was simply saying bye, and it was telling him out loud he loved him. The way he never managed to do in life (oh, I did not forget the first time George's death was acknowledged in show was Sheldon remembering he never got to thank George for what he had done for him…)
Their last goodbye at the funeral was- lord, where do I ever begin. I'm glad Missy managed to say goodbye, and Mary, and Georgie. I'm so sorry for Sheldon. Again regret, when he didn't make to do the eulogy.
And Mary was right. It's so cruel George died just when they were at their happiest. I see why she was so angry when we first met her.
It was nice to see again most of the people that had a role in the story. Brenda, Billy, June, even a mention to Veronica later on. They missed only Paige, which I am disappointed because I am sad the last we saw of her was in a bad place.
Second part was series finale 101. The (lovely!) recap of the Cooper story so far, all the recalls back to the pilot, the ending scene closing the circle. And of course, the reveal of how the storytelling is actually happening.
And of course, Sheldon Cooper in all his glory. Amy freakkin' Farrah Fowler in all her glory. I really needed to pinch myself twice that I was looking at new scenes of the two of them 5 years later.
Their house! All the memorabilia! (Gollum, the Nobel pic, the medal, the DNA, the Rubrik cube, the couch from 4A!!!). We knew more about Leonard. We kinda get confirmed they have two kids in total? And Leonard has a younger sister who wants to take acting classes and spent time with Penny. Excuse me I need a moment.
It was pretty much weird to see shamy in single camera tho? Like watching a fanfiction being played. No audience laughs. Multiple povs. A closer look to them. I was good. It was weird.
I admit, maybe it was this, but especially their first scenes felt a little off? Especially Mayim as Amy. Like she was having difficulties to come back in Amy's clothes. And because she was arguing with Sheldon, without the comedy timing given by multicams, it felt… harsher than usual?
(Again with the once at year birthday thing I swear I am giving up)
Their final scene instead was perfect. There! There I saw my sweet shamy again. Amy's tone was softer. She made Sheldon do the right thing with love the way she always managed to. (SNIFF)
Unpopular opinion maybe: I kinda wish their only scene in flesh was the final one. The previous ones were nice but could have been easily a voiceover as usual. I wanted more time with the 1994 Coopers.
Back at the beginning of this list: it was indeed a bittersweet end. Sweet: Sheldon's final moments at Caltech, that music playing, old pal Dave Saltzberg cameo!
Sheldon accepting to get baptized just to make Mary happy, because "he believes in her" (SNIFF). The final moment of him and Missy was with a smile. Their exchange in the bedroom. Mandy trying to cheer Missy up. Georgie keeping the family together. Connie recognizing she found peace finally with Dale.
And yet. Missy is angry, so angry and she's left with Mary in a house what was full and now it's just the two of them, and they are barely talking. Their last scene was a fight. Mary got sucked in the faith again, and this time we know it's the definitive, worse one, and Connie or anyone couldn't do anything for her. It ended like it needed to, but I wanted more reassurances that also Missy, Georgie, Mary and everyone else had their peace eventually.
It was heartbreaking and lovely see adult Sheldon saying goodbye to that house. He kinda did on our behalf as well.
I am gonna miss the Coopers so much. I am really do.
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jalenay · 27 days
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Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Publishing Update May 4 2024
So my work work is starting to relax - it'll be 'normal' working hours after May 15, but i'm manifesting some early additional free time (by ignoring some of the things i still have left to do) and i thought i'd give an update on my current NWWD plan to fill you guys in (if anyone wants to know) and to motivate myself to, you know, do it.
let me know what you think and if you have any questions! or if there's anything else you want to know!
So the overall plan is as follows:
First Rough Edit - this is basically just changing the POV from 2nd POV to 3rd POV. This is very tedious and currently what I'm doing right now. I'm also making a list as I go for high level updates/changes i want to make. Just thinking about the story as a whole and what tweaks i want to make now that the whole thing is finally done (primarily moving exposition around, if there's anything extra i can remove, timing of when certain things are discussed, and so on).
My Main Edit - this will be more time consuming but probably more fun as i do my main revise and edit of the story as a whole. i'll likely print the entire story out, make edits on hard copy, and then type up all the edits. I will also probably be sending the updated chapters to my main beta, for her opinion. (this would be the person i first texted about Dale in Dec 2021, she deserves first look lol)
Editor - After I'm happy with what I've done, i'll send the entire thing over to my editors, the main ones who worked on DSM. This will likely take a good amount of time (DSM took one month) but in many ways involves less effort from me lol. Just nerves.
Cover, Self-publishing Details - while my editors have the manuscript, I'll be narrowing down what I want the cover to look like and hiring a cover artist. (i've got a short list of artists right now, but i'll probably continue to refine that). I'm bad a visualizing covers and so this will be hard for me, although i have some basic ideas. i'll need to gather reference photos too and then work with the artist. I also want to publish more widely than just Amazon and will hopefully get DSM out to other places as well as a test run before NWWD. Look into more marketing? This is the most miscellaneous of the steps.
Process Edits - actually go through all the edits and notes given to me by my editor. This takes a lot of time (and is mentally taxing - no one likes to read pages of people telling you what you need to fix about what you wrote even if its overall extremely helpful and necessary)
Finalizing - I'll send the edited version to my first beta and another ARC reader/friend. I'll work on the formatting for the book. Coordinating where it will be published and when.
Publishing!
This is a loose list of steps that I mostly defined right now, but are similar to what i did with DSM. As i said, I'm in step one, currently just finished Chapter 25 of 36 of that rough edit.
I'll try to provide some updates on the process at it moves along, if people are interested in hearing about that. I'll most likely keep those updates on this blog, along with any other publishing specific commentary. if any one has any questions or thoughts on the whole thing, please feel free to send them to this blog or comment on this post.
I'm very excited to really dig into publishing NWWD and looking forward to sharing it with you!
Thanks to everyone for all their support - I wouldn't even be considering this (i probably wouldn't have even had a finished draft) with you!
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oleander-nin · 7 months
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Horrortober Day 28- Mistake(Yandere Rise Savage Raph x Reader)
A/N, not important: Sorry if cantaloupe man is OOC, I only used distant memories for his personality and what felt right. Also it's 2am again. I need to not be doing this. Uhhh, oops? Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: Dale, off screen death, bones snapped, feral, Loss of mental consciousness, kidnapping(?), unwanted touch, panic, blood, death of animal(rat), sewage, dark themes, yandere themes.
Words: 2286
Summary: Savage Raph and sewer exploration don't mix.
“You want to explore the sewers?” You ask, looking at the bald teen standing in front of you in disgust. You shudder, trying not to imagine all the things down there. “What are you even planning on finding? Sewage?”
Dale scoffs, his high pitched voice nasally from the cold. “But we could find treasure!”
“Or feces. You know, the stuff that’s supposed to be down there.”
Dale frowns, clearly not amused by your attitude. He sighs, putting his hand on your shoulder and shaking you lightly. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Your curious spirit?”
“Literally anywhere but the sewers of New York.” You state plainly, your nose scrunching up in disgust. Nothing about this plan seemed like a good idea, let alone a fun way to spend your weekend. Your shoulders sag, looking at the manhole cover Dale led you to. “C’mon, can’t we just like, play video games or go to the movies like normal teens?”
Dale seems to ignore your statement, walking confidently over to the sewer plate. You stand back, watching him wrap his hands around the metal and try to lift it. It doesn’t even budge. You snort slightly, watching him struggle for a moment before walking over to help him. You felt guilty, especially after seeing how determined he was to lift it with his bare hands. Dale’s head whips around, his dark eyes narrowing as he spots a small bit of pipe sticking out of a nearby dumpster. He grabs it and brings it over, carefully hooking the end of the pipe onto the slots of the sewer cover.
“Sorry,” He mutters, both of you pushing your weight against the awkward angle of the pipe. “I forgot how heavy these things were.”
You feel confusion waft over you at the statement, especially at the implication this was something he had done or at least tried before. You shake it off, focusing on the task at hand instead. Best to let Dale be Dale.
It takes a while, but the both of you eventually get the manhole cover dislodged and move to the side, the rancid smell of human waste and dead rats wafting to the surface. You gag, staggering back while dry heaving. Dale looked equally sick, but determined.
“We go in.” He says, taking a deep, final breath of fresh air before slowly climbing down the ladder. You watch him descend into the tunnels, his sputtering breaths making you feel bad for the young adult despite it being fully his idea, and fully his fault. His head pops out of the hold for a moment, his beady eyes looking at you. “Aren’t you coming.”
You grimace, but slowly follow, trying to take as many gulps of the surface air before following him down, slowly dragging the cast iron plate back into its spot. Your stomach churns while the stench burns your nose, making your vision swim. The ladder is longer than you want it to be, each rung damp with something you weren’t sure you wanted to know the makeup of. Your feet finally hit solid ground, your hand going to your pocket and slipping your phone out so you could see. Dale does the same, two small lights shining through the dark tunnel. You can hear the skittering rats and bugs, and the smell isn’t getting any better despite what you try to force yourself to believe.
Dale shines his light down each tunnel, his voice a bit strained. “Well, do you want to go right or left?”
You roll your shoulders, still grimacing. “Back to the surface.”
“Not an option!” He says brightly, marching down the tunnel to your left. He lets out a nervous chuckle as he walks, looking back at you. “I uh… I’m not sure if we can even lift the grate back up anyways.”
You groan, following behind your friend, your flashlight glued to the ground in front of your feet to make sure you didn’t step in anything. Every slight squish your shoes made in the damp tunnels made you gag, your mind running wild on all the possibilities of what you were stepping in. You were majorly regretting following him down here, wishing you were back home cuddled into your bed with a movie playing on your phone. The trudge through the sewers gets slightly better as you slowly get somewhat used to the smell, the burning sensation in your nose dying down slightly. 
“So,” You ask, stepping over a large dead rat, its body half floating in the river just next to your feet. You were slowly getting used to the noises down here. “Where are we going?”
“Oh, there’s an opening up ahead that has this really cool waterfall look from all the pipes going down.” Dale says, continuing on with the confidence of a cub at its first kill.
You pause, looking at him oddly. You shift your phone to your other hand, your palms sweaty from the walk despite the still chilly air. “When did you go down to the sewers before?”
“I saw April head down here once and tried to follow her.”
“Dale, that’s creepy.” You remark, staring sourly at the back of his head. Dale laughs nervously, his light flickering as he waves his phone around to check the walls.
“She was going into the sewers! I just wanted to see what she was doing.” He tries to argue, the shake in his voice proving even he knew it was a poor excuse.
“It’s called ‘talking to her’. You should try it sometime.”
“But she thinks I’m weird!” He protests, his high voice raising as he pouts. “Whenever I talk to her, she shoos me away.”
“You bring your lizard to school.”
“She brings green kids to school.”
Your jaw clicks shut as you sigh, nodding to his point. Everyone in school knew about the green kids that would show up every once in a while when April was in a bind. It was hard to miss them, considering their increasingly worse outfits in an attempt to hide the unnatural color. The conspiracy club had a whole board dedicated just to them.
“You’re both weird then.” You settle, chuckling at Dale’s defeated sigh. You both fall back into a comfortable silence, the water rushing and the rats scurry being the only accompanying sounds to your quiet steps. Despite still being uncomfortable, the sewers weren’t turning out as bad as you thought. It was disgusting and rank, but peaceful. Once you got used to wet rat fur rubbing against your ankles of course.
The tunnel slowly opens up, a maze of pipes and steel plating spreading out into a wide open space, most other tunnels gushing out sewage into the depths below. You watch it for a moment, slightly amazed but mostly confused.
“This is it.” Dale says proudly, spreading his arms out wide like he was showcasing for an art gallery. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“If beautiful is the sight of raw sewage being spit into a big hole, then sure.” You tease, but feeling some truth in your words. It was more impressive than beautiful, the sight of lumpy water ruining the image for you. Dale sighs dramatically, kicking the concrete of the path.
“You never appreciate anything I show you.” He mopes, his shoulders sagging exaggeratedly while he pouts. You roll your eyes and knock your shoulder against his, smiling at his goofy mood.
“C’mon, I’ve seen enough of the sewers now. I say we head back, yeah?” You ask, hoping he didn’t have more to show you. Dale sighs, then nods before taking a picture of the sewage falls. You snicker at him, already making plans to take him to real waterfalls soon. If he liked gunk being shot out of pipes, he was sure to appreciate the natural beauty of springs shot off cliffs.
You both turn to head back, but still when a loud whine can be heard to your right. Dale pauses and stares in the direction of the noise, whatever sense of adventure that dragged him down here hooking him once again. He waves you forward, his phone not set to a video as he peaks around the corner hiding you from whatever was babbling behind it. You peek your head over and gasp, your eyes widening at the large monster sitting in front of a fire atop a flat area that controls the valves. Your stomach knots as you stare at the large beast, a red bandana over its face and its eyes pure white. It wails over the fire, crying out for names you didn’t recognize. Dale snaps a few more photos before nodding to you, happy with whatever he collected.
You both slowly start to back away, keeping your eyes focused so you wouldn’t step into the gushing water and be swept into the pit. Dale seems to not pay as much attention, his foot slipping on a wet patch of ground as he falls towards the water, a loud scream coming from him as he grabs onto you for support. You yelp at the grip, latching onto a jutting pipe so you didn’t both get dragged into the rushing water just feet away. You help Dale stabilize himself, sighing in relief as you both press yourself against the brick wall. Your hands shake violently as you try to calm your nerves, barely noticing the absence of the loud wails heard just seconds before.
 You pick up your head and squint into the darkness as you slowly calm, trying to ignore the growing paranoia from the loss of sound. Dale also stills, his eyes trained on the corner you were both peeking over just a few minutes before. The bald teen slowly inches his way over to the corner, signaling for you to be quiet as he peeks over the wall. His face contorts into confusion for a second before a large green hand grabs his entire face and yanks him over, screams erupting from the both of you.
You’re glued to the ground while Dale and the monster scream, the sound of crushed bones and Dale’s sobs ingraining themselves into your brain. Your mind screams at you to move, to run, to do anything, but you stay glued to your spot. You were shaking, your mind providing the images to the noises coming from the other side of the wall. Dale’s screams had stopped, the sound of bones snapping had not.
Your muscles only decide to move again when the monster emerges from the shadows, its nostrils flaring on its turtle-y beak. You spin on your heel and dash forward, not caring to watch your steps for once as you sprint away from the blood covered beast. You sob as you run, mourning your friend and scared out of your mind when you hear the thing give chase. Your heart pounds like a hammer in your chest and you were sure the muscle alone would break your ribs protecting it.
A rat’s squeal and a crunch is heard under your foot, your face heading towards the ground while you try to brace yourself with your arms. You hit the ground hard, your chest heaving as your vision swims. Your body shakes, forgetting the danger for a moment to focus on the pain radiating from your left wrist. You don’t bother to look at it longer than needed, pushing yourself up and trying to stumble to your feet. The action quickly proves futile as large hands pick you up by the underside of your armpits, swinging you for a moment before tugging you close.
You don’t dare to breathe as the monster holds you tight to the hard shell on its chest, the slow realization bringing you to recognize the monster as some type of turtle, although you had never known any to grow this big. The monster falls back into a sitting position, it’s hand running over your head like it was petting a cat. Quick and sudden thwacks sound against the pavement, slightly shaking the ground and the monster holding you.
“You… Alone.” It says mournfully, continuing to roughly stroke your head. It reminded you of a two year old first meeting a puppy, grabby hands and rough play being the first instinct to the small children. Your gulp, shaking slightly as you wait for the hands to start to hurt, for the grip to squeeze you so hard your eyes popped from your skull. You wait. And you wait. You slowly take a big gulp of air, letting yourself breathe for a moment in its arms.
It wasn’t hurting you for now, instead petting you like you were a lost cat it found on the street. The difference between you and Dale, you were uncertain, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As awful as it made you feel, you were just happy to still be alive and in one piece.
“Raph alone.” The beast remarks, squeezing you a bit more than gentle. You wheeze at the feeling, your bones creaking before it’s grip loosens once more. It wasn’t showing any sign of letting go, seeming to have bonded to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to make sense of it all. The monster, Raph you assumed, was keeping you in its arms, for what reason you were unsure. You hoped it would let go, wanting to run and run until the world reset and you could offer Dale an escape room instead of a doomed sewer exploration. Tears run down your cheeks while the beast named Raph continues to pet you, his chest rumbling against your back. You doubted it would ever let you go.
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lulublack90 · 3 months
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Prompt 2 - Pool
@jegulus-microfic March 2 Word count 686
Previous part First part
Once they made it back to the beach, they apparated away from that godforsaken cave. They apparated first to the lake district, then the Yorkshire Dales and finally to the safe house. Mad-Eye had instilled in all Order members the importance of multiple apparation’s before going to their final destination. Regulus saw no real point to it, but after that cave, he felt like all his senses were on high alert, so he didn’t argue when James took them across the country. 
The safe house was small. Regulus supposed it didn’t need to be massive, with only the two of them meeting there. They passed through the wards and protection charms with no bother. Regulus hoped there was somewhere soft to sit down. He was exhausted, and the realisation of what they’d just done was starting to catch up with him. 
They walked into the cosy living room to find a gigantic, shaggy, black dog standing in the middle of the room. Regulus yelped and jumped backwards as the dog lunged forward. 
Arms wrapped around him, and he opened his screwed-shut eyes to find Sirius hugging him tightly. 
“What the fuck is happening?” He asked James as he scanned the room for the dog. 
“We’re animagi,” James said simply. “He’s the black dog.”
“What? How? You’re not registered!” He paused and stared at James. “You said we’re. What animal are you?” James went to the sofa and collapsed on it. 
“I’m a stag.”
“As in a deer?”
“The very same.”
“Can I see it?” Regulus had forgotten all about Sirius latched onto him. He absentmindedly stroked Sirius’s back. James looked around the room, seeming to be debating something. 
“No,” He said. “The room’s too small.” Regulus’s eyes went wide. 
“Just how big are you?”
“Huge.” 
They let a few moments pass as they took in their success. “Sirius, let go of Regulus. We need to examine the locket.” Sirius reluctantly unwrapped his arms from Regulus but took his hand and pulled him to the sofa. The sofa wasn’t made for three, but they squashed onto it anyway. 
Regulus groaned at the softness of the cushions. He hadn’t realised how achy his body was.
“What happened in there?” Sirius asked, his eyes darting between his brother and his best friend. 
“There was a secret cave behind the cave.” James began, “We got through it using a blood sacrifice—”
“Blood magic!” Sirius butted in. James nodded. 
“Yeah, then there was this huge pool—” James tried again. 
“I’d say it was more of a lake,” Regulus spoke over James. 
“Okay, a lake and there was this boat that would only let one of us over to the island unless I covered myself with the invisibility cloak and…” James continued the story, describing the potion and how Regulus had drunk from the lake, disturbing the Inferi and how they only just escaped. “We left a replica of the locket. Hopefully, Voldemort won’t go back and check anytime soon, but if he does, fingers crossed, it’ll fool him. 
Regulus pulled the locket out of his pocket and held it before them. 
“Wait, I know this locket.” He turned it in his hands, trying to find the memory. “It’s Slytherin’s locket!” He gasped.
“Are you sure?” Sirius held out his hand and twirled the locket on its chain. 
“I walked past Salazar’s Portrait nearly every day, multiple times for seven years. I think I know his gaudy locket when I see it. Just look at the snake.” James moved closer.
“I think he might be right, you know.” 
“Well, let’s call a meeting and get Barty and Evan to confirm it, and we still need to figure out how to destroy them,” Sirius said as he stared at the locket. They could all feel the evil pulsating from it. Regulus put it back in his pocket. 
“Right, let’s just have a few minutes to recuperate and then head over to Rosier House. Reg can check that the coast is clear, and then we can figure out what to do with the Horcrux.” James proposed.
All three of them fell asleep almost immediately.  
Next part
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somedaylazysomeday · 4 months
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A Boon - Part Five
Thranduil comes to visit you in Esgaroth - one ruler to another.
Thranduil x fem!reader
Rating: Mature. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 3,600
Warnings: the pressures of ruling, romantic pressures, mentions of alcohol, mentions of mortality, sleeplessness, weapons, brief fear of intruders
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You surveyed the stretch of boards ahead of you. These boards were still yellow, freshly hewn from fallen trees. They were bright against the gray waters of the lake and the gray-brown of the older, weathered boards that made up most of Esgaroth. Still, you were displeased. “This is progress, but it still leaves at least a ten minute trip by boat to reach the shoreline.” 
“Surely that is short enough, Queen?” 
You shook your head. “We are discussing farmers. At the end of a long day in the fields, they may choose to swim rather than wait for a boat or fall asleep at their oars. We can hardly afford to lose any farmers. We shall have to continue construction.” 
“But majesty,” one of your advisors protested, “if we continue, we will block the lake. Kings Thranduil, Bard, and Thorin will surely object.” 
It was a fair point and you nodded to acknowledge it. “Then we shall simply have to be more creative as we search for solutions.”
“Perhaps a bridge of some kind, far off the water…” one mused. 
“My queen!” an official called. You turned, already knowing what you would find. As you had expected, Thranduil waited on the main boardwalks of town. “Elvenking Thranduil of the Greenwood has arrived and wishes to meet with you.” 
You waved back, made your excuses to your advisors, and started back up the wooden boardwalk toward the small elven delegation. The trip was not short, but Thranduil never seemed anything less than endlessly patient as you walked. 
When you finally arrived in front of the elves, Thranduil gave an elaborate bow, took your hand, and pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “My lovely Queen of Esgaroth.” 
“Thranduil.” 
A look of amused exasperation crossed his beautiful face as he straightened and you stifled a laugh. Thranduil had been officially courting you for months and he still insisted on keeping to the utmost standards of society. You, however, eagerly dropped his title whenever you could get away with it. 
“I have business with King Bard, but I could not resist halting our progress to visit the famed Beauty of the Waters.” Thranduil leaned closer. “Why is it that I never find you in your throne room?” 
The reception hall had been your coronation gift from the Kingdom of Greenwood. It was ostentatious to a remarkable degree, especially when set against the backdrop of Lake Town, but it had been the only thing that stopped Thranduil’s complaints about the rest of your coronation. The ceremony had been plain, certainly - perhaps even stark - but there were other things in Esgaroth that needed funds. It seemed a shame to waste gold on yourself.
“We both know that real business takes place outside of a throne room,” you reminded Thranduil. “Besides, I worry that Smaug will come back to steal the ridiculous gems from the walls.”
Thranduil sniffed, pressing a hand to his chest. “I hand-picked every one of those gems. They remind me of your eyes.” 
“They’re… all white?” you reminded slowly. 
“Yes,” he agreed, unperturbed. “But I did not choose them for their color. I chose them for their sparkle. Their fire. That is what matches your eyes. They are your defining feature, you know.”
For all that you thought he was an arrogant, over-confident ass sometimes, Thranduil did know how to deliver a compliment. To hide your flustered state, you asked, “How long will you stay?” 
“I must be in Dale by sunset,” he told you, regret in his tone. 
With a glance around, you scoffed. “You must leave in minutes if you will arrive there by sunset! You might have just waved from your boat as you passed by.” 
Thranduil was unbothered by your caustic tone. “Ah, but then I could not have done this…”
He swept his long robes back, lowering gracefully onto one knee. The people Lake Town drew closer behind the elven guards, watching the scene with eager expectation. 
After an appropriately long pause, Thranduil started, “My dearest queen of Esgaroth… You enrapture me. You have always done so, from the time you were a bar maid, and it has been my delight watching you rise to the challenges of being queen of what was once called Lake Town.
“Our kingdoms have been joined in matters both of diplomacy and trade to the benefit of all our people. I believe it is time we join in a more permanent alliance.” Thranduil paused, looking up into your eyes with a wide gaze of his own. “Will you agree to be my queen?” 
You smiled down at him, wrapping your hands around his. “No, Thranduil.” 
An appreciate chuckle ran through the crowd. Thranduil stood, not looking distraught in the least. “Very well. We shall depart for Dale. Accompany us to our boat?” 
“Of course,” you agreed, placing your hand on his proffered arm. You chatted pleasantly on the way back to the elves’ boat as the people of Esgaroth called sympathies to Thranduil and wished him better luck the next time. 
Thranduil had been proposing marriage to you since the week after your coronation. It had become something of a spectacle for your people to watch his attempts. There was even a betting pool on how long it would be before you gave in. It was a salve to your ego that there were a number of people who bet you would never agree to marry Thranduil at all.
“I shall return soon,” Thranduil announced, brushing your knuckles with his lips once more before he climbed into the elegantly carved boat. 
The elven guard who had been trailing behind you paused by your side for a moment. “Your highness?” 
“Yes?” you asked expectantly. 
“It was the bar maid line, was it not?” 
You smiled despite yourself. “Among other things.” 
The guard shook his head. “I begged him to reconsider that section.” 
“I believe you.” You offered a small smile to the elf. “Thranduil is a victim only of his own hubris.”
The guard hastily stifled a laugh before he climbed into the boat. You waited long enough to wave as they rowed swiftly across the shining waters of the lake. After an appropriate amount of time, you strode to your office, waving away teasing questions about when you would finally allow yourself to be caught. 
There was far too much to be done. 
Lake-Town - or Esgaroth - was not what it once was, but not all of the changes were negative. Most of the people who had survived Smaug’s attacks had chosen to follow King Bard to settle Dale, but Esgaroth had kept almost a third of its original population. And the town was bolstered by the ever-flowing tide of merchants and travelers who chose to settle on the lake instead of further into the mountains. 
Yes, Esgaroth was growing and changing, developing into a fine community with the makings of an actual economy. There were days when you questioned whether you had been made queen as a joke of some kind and if the townspeople would take it away from you. But there had been no hints of that. 
It probably aided your rule that you weren’t queen full-time. You still ran the Ripple, though you had needed to hire additional help for when you were fulfilling royal duties. Contributing to the local job market - and alcohol provisions - definitely helped your popularity among Esgaroth residents.
The Ripple was nearly empty when you stepped inside. Storr beamed at you from his place behind the bar, giving a bow so deep that you worried (or hoped) that he would bash his forehead against the shining wooden surface. 
“My queen!” Storr cried, drawing the attention of both patrons. They lifted their tankards at you; they knew you well enough to know that was the only acknowledgement you truly welcomed. “To what do we owe this honor?” 
You scowled at him. Storr didn’t take the expression to heart. You had largely left him in charge of the Ripple when you were doing other things around the town, and he had handled the responsibility with grace and a level head. You appreciated everything he did for you and your business… and both of you knew it. 
Still, you filled your tone with steel and venom as you said, “This is my bar, Storr. If you’ve forgotten, perhaps it’s time for me to find a replacement.” 
Storr only laughed, and the sound made you smile back at him. You accepted his brief hug when he had stepped around the bar. “You know I hate when you bow to me.”
“Why else would I do it?” he asked, patting your shoulders as you pulled away. “Kirna and Kell say hello.” 
“Give them my love,” you said instantly. Storr’s wife Kirna had been one of your staunchest supporters even before the town had decided to make you its queen. And his son Kell was wise beyond his four years… and far more energetic than you remembered being as a child. 
“Of course.” Storr sighed. “I know you are far too busy, but remember that you have an open invitation to come for dinner.”
“I am never too busy for friends,” you protested.
Storr cut you off with a loud laugh. “You’re too busy to sleep and eat, let alone visit with lowly town residents.” He winked at you, continuing before you could refute that statement. “While we are on the subject, what brings you to the Ripple this afternoon?” 
“Honey mead.” You glanced toward the back room where you stored the mead as it went through the process of fermentation. None of the casks were visible from where you stood, but you looked anyway. “I need to bottle a few casks. That double batch should be ready for consumption next month.” 
Storr grimaced. “That will be a busy night. Will you be here to help?” 
“I- will do my best,” you said carefully. Sadly, the truth was that you couldn’t know for certain where you would be when the mead was ready. It all depended on what was happening in the town. “I’ll see if I can find someone to come up for extra support for the first few nights.”
The first sign you had of an impending conversation was that Storr followed you to the fermentation room. He had always avoided it, claiming that the smells gave him a headache. 
“What is it?” you asked as the door closed behind him. There was a tangle of fear in your stomach as you waited for whatever news he had. 
“Nothing bad,” he assured. “More a question than a concern. But you will dislike it.” 
That did nothing to soothe your nerves. “Go on.” 
“Perhaps you should consider hiring additional help on a permanent basis,” Storr said, clearly choosing his words with care. 
“I… did hire help…” you reminded slowly. “We have five employees for you to manage, and I assist here as often as I can.” 
“You do, and everyone appreciates your dedication to the Ripple.” Storr’s gaze dipped to one of the casks, studying it like it was fascinating. “But the demands of being queen mean that you can’t be here when you say you will, even if you do your best to come. And the problems will only grow worse when you marry Thranduil.” 
The stinging ache of guilt in your chest was frozen in place at the unexpected conclusion to Storr’s point. “Thranduil? He has no bearing on this situation. I have no intention of marrying him.” 
Storr aimed a dry look in your direction. “I heard he proposed earlier.” 
“And I said no,” you told him. “As I always do.” 
“Yes, but you will not refuse him forever.” Storr shook his head, looking somewhat mournful at the idea. “The two of you have been courting for almost two years. Marriage is the eventual goal of courtship, is it not?” 
“Technically speaking…” you trailed, trying not to look as uncomfortable as you felt. With a sigh, you chose to confide in your friend. “I will not marry Thranduil. I cannot. It could never work between us, not for any real length of time. He sees me as I am and is blind to the way I will be. The years will weigh me down in a way that will not happen to him. If I am the only one to see our future clearly, it is my burden to keep him from making that mistake.” 
To your surprise - and mild hurt - Storr seemed to find that amusing. “Such disdain for your Elvenking, even after so long a time… But now, as back when you first met him, I believe you may be misjudging Thranduil.”
You huffed out a sigh. "I do not understand you, Storr. First you claim to be concerned that I will marry Thranduil and now you seem to be angling for that very result. Was my argument that unsound?" 
"No, I think Thranduil is more determined than you seem to believe." 
You opened the first cask of honey mead, letting it hiss slowly as you moved to the next. With the sound of a half-dozen snakes filling the room, you turned to Storr and frowned. “I believe I am at least his match in determination, if not more. You should not be so certain that he will convince me.” 
Storr dragged a hand over his face. “I am not trying to start another competition between he and you. Or even myself and you. I am simply saying that you are more likely to listen to reason.” 
“And how has marrying an immortal elven king become a reasonable option?” you demanded. 
“When you started courting him.” That seemed like a jest and you narrowed your eyes at Storr. He made a helpless sort of gesture. “What I mean is that he pressed your courtship. He encouraged your placement as queen of Esgaroth. Now he is insisting that the two of you be married. Maybe it is not reasonable for him to push for this, but your reasons for fighting him are ones that will be to his detriment, not yours. Do you want to marry him?” 
You began pouring the settled mead into gallon jugs. They would be prepared for the final fermentation process when you were done, and ready for consumption only a few weeks after that. You had hoped that the delay in your answer would distract Storr, but he watched you and waited patiently. 
“That is not the point,” you said eventually, avoiding the question entirely. “Thranduil does not think about the future.” 
“I disagree,” Storr said decisively. “I believe he thinks almost exclusively about the future. Most elves do. We now get enough of them in here to know. Maybe Thranduil just believes the present outweighs the future.” 
“He is wrong.” You punctuated your point with a sharp slap, using the motion to force a cork into the mouth of a bottle. 
“Have you explained your reasoning to him?” 
It was a fair point, and you grimaced. “No. But only because he has not given me the chance.” 
“Then he will only keep asking,” Storr pointed out. “And he may eventually grow discouraged by your refusals.”
You laughed at that, and Storr eventually joined you. It was difficult to imagine Thranduil being discouraged by much of anything. He pursued what he wanted whole-heartedly until he had gotten it, without exception. 
But still, you were thinking about Storr’s words long after you had bottled your mead and left the Ripple. In fact, you were thinking about them so hard that you had trouble falling asleep that night. 
It was ridiculous, and you were half-tempted to take Storr up on his offer only to lecture him at his home. The day had been long and your body was exhausted… but your brain refused to stop tossing up possibilities for the future, and you were dragged reluctantly along for each scenario. 
When the knock sounded at your door, you were grateful for the interruption. 
However, you were not so grateful that you left behind the light, elven-forged short sword that Thranduil had gifted you. He had intended it for decorative purposes, meant to adorn your hip as you were crowned queen, but he had warned that elvish weapons only dulled after hundreds of years of constant use. The short sword would serve as a handy weapon if your unexpected guest was less friendly than you wished (or far too much more).
When you opened the door to find Thranduil on the other side, you let the blade dip until the tip was nearly brushing the floor. The Elvenking’s dark brows were arched high on his forehead, his gaze moving quizzically from the sword to your face. 
“Late night sparring practice?” he drawled. 
You shook your head and stepped aside to let him in. “I was not expecting to see you again tonight. Did you not arrive in Dale by sunset?” 
“I arrived with time to spare,” Thranduil assured you, closing and locking the door securely behind you both. “You need a larger home. One befitting the role of a queen. If there are none in Esgaroth to your liking, I could always have something constructed…” 
“Thranduil, focus,” you commanded, watching the glow of amusement on his face. “What happened? Why are you not in Erebor now? I thought you were meant to be treating with King Thorin?” 
“I seem to have offended him,” he said, offering an unconcerned shrug. “He ordered me to leave and I believed it was best to oblige him. His youth gives his temper an unwise edge.” 
“He’s older than anyone I’ve ever met,” you argued, grimacing at the dry look Thranduil gave you. “Present company excluded, of course.” 
“That may be,” Thranduil sniffed, “but it makes him ill-suited for leadership, especially in a situation like ours, in which so many kingdoms occupy such a small space.”
“His people seem to believe his leadership is excellent,” you countered. “As do the people of Dale. Besides, I believe your opinion has not been requested.” 
“And yet it should have been,” Thranduil climbed the ladder up to the second floor of your home with ease and remarkable speed, offering a hand to pull you up the ladder after he had reached the top. “Considering that mine is the largest of the kingdoms. And I hope to make it still larger when our kingdoms combine.” 
You sighed. “I lack the energy to have this argument once more. Not today. Can we discuss something else?” 
“Of course,” the Elvenking soothed, drawing you into his arms. You settled in that embrace, your cheek pressed against the delicate weave of Elven fabric. It did not muffle the steady beat of his heart, and you were thankful for that. “Perhaps you would like to tell me why you are awake so late.” 
“I… would rather not,” you hedged. If you even hinted at the way Storr’s words had been eating at you, Thranduil would consider you as good as wed. And while you disliked the idea of him losing interest and moving on, your concerns were valid enough that they demanded a solution. “Why are you here, Thranduil? I am happy to see you, but-” 
“-but I was hardly expected,” Thranduil finished for you. “As I said, Thorin removed me from the halls of Erebor, but Bard is still there. I decided to send my guards back to the Greenwood rather than stay in Dale. And when I saw the candlelight behind your shutters, I came here instead of returning to my own kingdom.” 
“Because it’s closer for you to return to Erebor tomorrow?” you asked. 
Thranduil laughed softly. “You know Thorin well enough to know that I will not be welcomed back into his kingdom for at least a fortnight. No, I simply concluded that my time would be far better spent here.” 
You stared up at him, making note of the soft fondness that filled his haughty, fine-boned face. “You… are too kind.” 
“Do not mistake my honesty for simple flattery,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I enjoy your company and I prefer to think that you like mine as well. No, I know for certain that you enjoy my company. I would know if you did not - you are far too honest not to have told me so.” 
You huffed out a laugh despite yourself and Thranduil smiled. With the barest hint of pressure against your lower back, he urged you toward the ladder that took you up to the highest floor of your home. “Come, it is surely past time for you to be in bed.” 
The idea of the Elvenking himself ordering you to bed would have made you laugh if only it sounded less appealing. So you let him shepherd you upstairs and into bed. When you had gone to answer the door, you had only pulled on the minimum amount of clothing to protect yourself from the lake breezes. It took only moments to undress once more.
Thranduil never suffered any crisis of confidence, so he stripped bare and slid between the sheets beside you. The warmth of his body next to yours put you in an even deeper state of relaxation, especially as his hand found yours beneath the cover of your quilt. His thumb traced gentle strokes over the back of your hand, almost hypnotic in its steadiness. 
Maddeningly, you still could not fall asleep.
---
Author's Note - There is definitely going to be a second part tomorrow.
Thanks for reading!
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fyrewalkwithmee · 3 months
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Cherries and Wine Pt.1
Dale Cooper x Reader
This is a NSFW fic 18+ only.
Synopsis: You are undercover as a bartender at One Eyed Jacks and are waiting for your partner, Agent Cooper, to come and get you out of there. You and Dale ingest a mysterious liquid that heightens arousal. Shenanigans ensue ;)
Warnings: tension, descriptions of arousal, reader is working in a brothel, alcohol, poisoning, making out, SPOILERS if you haven't seen twin peaks.
Word count: 3.4k (I'm so sorry)
AN: I'm sorry this is so long idk what happened. If you find all this detail boring maybe skip to the next chapter which will be smut. As always if you like the story please like, comment or message me to let me know! Enjoy.
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It was your third and final night working as a "bartender" at one-eyed jacks. It had been your idea to go undercover and had you gained valuable intel on Laura Palmer's involvement with the brothel. So after 3 long days, your partner would be coming to get you the hell out of there. He would be posing as a wealthy businessman travelling across the states on his way to a meeting. At the club, he would start chatting you up and take you into a private room where you would escape through the window. Part of you couldn't wait to see him and finally leave that godforsaken place. Another part of you was secretly dreading it. You and Agent Cooper hadn't left on the best of terms. Let's just say he wasn't overly excited by the idea of you being all alone, surrounded by unpredictable characters in a place that a murdered girl frequented. You understood his concerns, you really did. Cooper was a highly skilled agent, extremely intuitive and charming. You assumed he felt some level of responsibility for you being a few years your senior and far more experienced working in the field. But sometimes you felt like your partner forgot that you too were a trained professional. You needed to feel capable in your position, encouraged, not held back. He seemed to be that way with everyone else, so why not you?
You found yourself reliving the conversation the two of you had 3 days prior when your partner had dropped you off a couple blocks away from the club. Coopers eyes were filled with dread, he would have done anything for you not to get out of that car.
"I don't like this agent, I really don't. All of these men and the nature of the business, not to mention the club is out of our jurisdiction I-"
"It's going to be fine, alright." you interrupted his anxious ramble "Our plan is airtight, I just need a couple of days and if I don't find anything, come get me."
"If things go south you call us straight away okay?"
"Do you really have such little faith in me?"
"Of course, I have faith in you. It's just your first time undercover alone and it's a very delicate case."
"What you don't trust me? don't think I can pull it off?
"That's not what I meant. i don't want anything happening to you... for the sake of the case"
"Right well, for 'the sake of the case' I better go."
You exited the car slamming the door a little hard. Cooper looked regretful and like he was trying to find the right words to say. One last quip of encouragement that might ease the tension between the two of you, but nothing came to mind. His eyes met yours as you slipped off your trench coat revealing a slinky, long black dress that clung tightly to your figure. You were happy with the way you looked. The dress paired with some makeup and the long blonde wig you chose made you look exactly like one of the club girls. You handed Dale the trench through the window as he oggled at you wide-eyed.
"Having fun?" you snapped him out of his trance. "Sorry you look um... do you have your gun?" was he serious?
"No Dale I left my gun at the hotel" you said to yourself in your head mockingly.
You leaned over giving Dale even more of an eyeful than he already had and lifted up one side of your dress exposing your leg wrapped in sheer black stockings with suspenders that trailed up to reveal a lacy garter that held in place a tiny pistol. You decided to go all out with the undercover allowance given to you by the bureau. "I always bring protection. See you in 3 days." And with that, you dropped your dress and started swiftly towards the club leaving Agent Cooper in the dust.
You met with the club mother, an older woman who smelt of whiskey and cigarettes. You gave her big doll eyes as you told her a lengthy tale of all the clubs you've worked at and how all the men loved to get a drink from you, the girl who could use her tongue to tie cherry stems. Cherry was also your decided name and you had prepared a whole backstory so that you could seem as genuine as possible. You demonstrated your cherry-tying skills and managed to secure a role on the bar. She called a young-looking girl into the room and told her to help you pick out your uniform. As you went to leave the dimly lit room the woman called out, "Oh Cherry dear, don't think just because you're working behind the bar you won't have to also serve our clients in other ways. We all do our part around here." your stomach dropped, you assumed that the bar girls remained at the bar. You felt a wave of panic wash over you. What were you to do if some slimey man asked to take you into one of the other rooms? You would have to find a way out, but how without breaking your cover? You calmed yourself internally and turned to the woman, "Of course, not a problem" You said it so sweetly you could almost taste it.
Your first night had been quite uneventful. You served drinks, got chatted up and watched as the club girls worked their magic and the customers spent their money. You had no luck finding anything about Laura Palmer until the second night when a grey-haired man came and sat down at the bar. He had a down look about him which was strange seeing as most of the men who came to the club couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces.
"Tough day sugar?" you sauntered your way over to him as he gazed up at you. He straightened his posture and gave you a weak smile, in a thick southern accent he spoke, "Just found out one of my favourite girls was... well is no longer with us." You lit up inside but tried your best to put on your best puppy dog eyes and gently grabbed his hand, "Oh no you poor thing. I'll tell you what. Imma make you a drink and you can tell me all about it. How's that sound?" His eyes scaled your body hungrily and smiled crookedly, "Sounds like a dream baby." One hour and half a bottle of Jack Daniels later you had found out all you had to know about Laura Palmer's involvement with the club and you had pumped the older man with so much whiskey he didn't have the wits about him to ask you into a private room. He held your hands tightly as he slurred, "You're an angel baby." you giggled at him with a hint of disgust that you knew he wouldn't pick up on in his state, "No sweetheart, I'm Cherry." He laughed a boisterous laugh, "You are my new favourite! I'll see you tomorrow, I can't wait to get to know all of you." He finished his sentence eyes gaping right at your chest. "Oh God help me" you said to yourself, saying goodbye to the man.
Your last night couldn't have come quicker, you had gotten ready early to help pass the time and were in the bar polishing glasses when one of the other girls fittingly named 'Candy' entered. "You look especially pretty tonight. Someone special coming in?" You chuckled, "No one in particular." She continued, "Watch out for that man you were talking to last night, I hear he's racked up quite a debt with the club." she winked at you and went to serve a customer. Laura sure knew how to pick em you thought taking a deep breath.
A couple hours had passed and you found yourself constantly scanning the room eager to find Agent Cooper and get this over with. Your eyes met another familiar pair but to your dismay, it wasn't Agent Cooper it was Mr. Jack Daniels. He made his way over with a confident stride and sat down in front of you. He grabbed your hand and placed a wet kiss on the top of it. "I saw you looking for me baby, this is gonna be a night to remember." You tried your best not to punch the smile right off his face, instead you grabbed the bottle of Jack and went to make his usual when he stopped you, "Oh no my little Cherry, tonight we're having the good stuff." He called over Candy and asked her to get his 'special' bottle, he then began to tell you about how this spirit would make you feel things you've never felt before.
You pretended to listen but felt all the noise around you wash away when you spotted a tall man enter the area. He was talking to one of the clubgoers and nodded towards your area of the bar. They had a chuckle about something and he slowly made his way towards you. You couldn't help but check him out, starting with the shiny black shoes he wore. They were paired with a tuxedo that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and long frame. As he walked closer and further from the dim lights you could see black hair slicked back revealing a strong jaw and cheekbones. He wore a pair of spectacles that circled a pair of deep dark eyes that locked with yours and you suddenly realised that the handsome stranger was in fact, Agent Cooper.
Your eyes widened for a moment and the old man went to look at what had caused such a reaction but you stopped him quickly, pulling his face towards yours. "wanna see a trick?" he nodded with anticipation and you grabbed a candied cherry putting it in your mouth and seductively moved it around using your tongue to tie the stem. You caught Dales's eyes in the process and to your surprise, neither of you looked away. He had a look in his eyes you'd never seen before. You finished tying the stem and held it between your teeth to show off your work. The old man applauded and went to speak but was interrupted by Cooper who had reached the bar. He leaned towards your red lips and grabbed the stem. He inspected the knot and leaned an elbow on top of the bar. He looked at you through his lashes, "that's very impressive."
His voice was low and smooth and it sent a jolt of arousal coursing through your body. Is he flirting with me? You asked yourself, then reminded yourself of the plan. Of course not he's just really committing to this alias. Not that you minded, Dale always kept your relationship strictly professional which was disappointing but you respected his boundaries. But at this moment, for the sake of the case, of course, you had a rare opportunity. You leaned towards him, exposing the cleavage your tight corset created, "Thank you handsome, you know this mouth can do a lot more too." he moved closer and leant both arms on the bar, trapping you with his size, "Is that so?" you bit your lip and looked up at him, fire in your eyes, you nodded. He had a slight mischievous grin and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were. "Well, how about you come and show me just how good that little mouth can be." His words shocked and turned you. You had never heard Agent Cooper talk in such a dirty and suggestive manner, but you were loving it. You felt a delicious tension build in your stomach and your arousal started to form a wet spot in your panties.
The electricity swirling between the two of you was extinguished by the gruff sound of someone clearing their throat. you looked to your right and were reminded that your admirer was still seated at the bar, now with two glasses filled with a dark crimson wine-like liquid in front of him. You had forgotten all about him, just now it was like you and Cooper were the only people in the whole world.
The older man turned to Cooper, placing one of the cups in front of you, "Sorry friend, but I've got Miss Cherry reserved for the night." Cooper lowered his head, "I see. Well, we won't be long." he reached into his coat and pulled out a big wad of cash, "How about you go and hit the casino and I'll have Miss Cherry back to you in no time." The old man stared hungrily at the cash. "Well that seems fair enough, you can warm her up for me ay?" The old man laughed obnoxiously and took the money. Dale clenched his jaw, hating the way he talked about you but forced a chuckle out anyway. And just like that, the man walked away not even uttering a goodbye. You turned to Cooper and whispered, "How did you know he needed money?"
" i did my research" he smirked
"well, should we get out of here then?" you gave him a wink
"Not so soon, we don't want to seem suspicious, let's talk longer." he grabbed the drinks from the table and led you to a quieter end of the bar. he moved in closer to you and raised a glass, he gave you a sincere look and spoke, "Here's to you. A great agent and an even better partner." you blushed under the low lights finally receiving the approval you always wanted from him. "Thank you, Dale" You clinked your glass with his and you both took a sip of the mysterious liquid, eyes remaining locked. It had a strange, sweet taste and sent a tingling sensation down your throat. You weren't sure why, but something about it made you crave more...you took another sip.
"You never call me that." he furrowed his brows suspiciously, "well, now's a better time to start than any", you replied, happy that he wasn't still upset about the mission. "Hmm, I don't know. I think I prefer handsome." he said teasingly. You scoffed at him and pushed his shoulder playfully. To anyone watching from afar, it probably did seem like the two of you were flirting like any of the other people in the club.
You and Cooper talked for almost an hour, getting lost in conversation regarding the intel you had uncovered and news from the station. It would almost feel like a date if it weren't for the setting and talk about work. You went to take another sip from your cup to find that it was already empty.
A familiar buzz was starting to take effect, you assumed this was from the alcohol but it was mixed with another sensation. A faint burning pulsed through your body, forming an electric heat around your throat and neck, stomach, your breasts... you could feel that the wetness in your panties had grown rapidly into a puddle of arousal. You hadn't realised it but all this time while talking with Dale you had become more and more turned on. Watching the way his lips moved, how his long fingers danced over the glass and combed through his hair... god that hair! You desperately wanted your hands to replace his. to grip and pull and guide his head lower and lower, to do terrible, sinful things. You had known for a while how much you wanted the older agent, wanted to feel his strong hands grip you, his mouth latched onto yours and on other places too. But this newfound feeling wasn't like anything you'd ever felt, it was a burning desperation that seemed to have a will of its own.
You suddenly felt flushed flipping your wig off your shoulders to help cool yourself. You caught Dale's eyes sneak a glance at your chest, but he quickly looked away adjusting the top of his collar and bowtie. You wondered if he was feeling it too? Your question was answered when he spoke, "I think it's time to go" he sounded out of breath even though he was sitting down. You agreed with him, taking his hand as you led him out of the bar and into a softly lit hallway. You tried not to react but you could feel the heat from his body transfer to yours and fuel the lustful desire coursing through you. Your crotch throbbed from the slight contact and you walked quickly to find an empty room. You finally located one and shut the door behind you, immediately looking for a window that would aid your escape. This room was different from the others but you paid no mind to that heading straight for the windows. The temperature in the room was getting hotter as you both frantically pushed and pulled on the latches but to no avail. the windows were sealed shut.
"Did you not examine the windows to prepare for the escape?" Dale looked wrecked, his cheeks were flushed and hair dishevelled, two strands hung teasingly over his glasses. "I did but this room was shut off during the daytime!" you replied in a panic trying again to push open the glass. "We're going to have to break one." Dale stated and began taking off his suit jacket to protect his hand.
Suddenly there were footsteps outside of the room and a faint knock on the door, "everything okay in there?". The door started to creep open and you did the first thing that came to mind. You shoved Dale up against the wall and thrust your mouth onto his. His body stiffened from the sudden contact but quickly relaxed into the kiss, he wrapped his arms around your waist pushing your bodies closer to one another.
A large man entered the room, security you assumed, "Everything okay?" your lips left Dale's and you peered at each other with wide eyes. You turned to the man and quickly spoke "All okay." He nodded and closed the door behind him. You stepped out of Dale's grasp and started stammering, "Cooper, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thin-" but were interrupted by your partner grabbing and turning you so now you were against the wall. His mouth was on yours and he kissed you aggressively, slipping his tongue into your mouth, gripping the back of your head with one hand. you wrapped your own hands around his neck, pushing yourself into him, needing him closer.
Every move he made felt heavenly, heat and sweat building as you desperately clutched onto each other's bodies. Your arousal was at an all-time high and you instinctively ground your crotch against his quickly discovering that he was hard and a bulge had formed in his pants. It was at this point he broke away from your embrace, a slight look of embarrassment on his face. "We really have to go" he spoke desperately and out of breath. You nodded not really knowing what to say.
Cooper told you to step back as he wrapped his hand in his blazer and smashed the window. he got rid of any shards of glass and lifted you up so you could exit the room. You hit the grass outside with a thump and waited for Cooper who followed close behind. The two of you quickly made your way into the night towards the sheriff's truck which was waiting for you a block away.
You walked in silence, panic washing over you as your mind raced with a thousand thoughts about how you and Dale were ever going to recover from the moment you just shared. The cool air was a nice relief from the overwhelming heat of the club but nonetheless, you wrapped your arms around yourself. Dale noticed and shook his jacket making sure there were no pieces of glass and gently placed it around your shoulders. The familiar strong musk of his cologne overcame your senses and you were immediately taken back to your steamy exchange. His hands, his lips, his hair, the feeling of his arousal pressed against your own. You quickly felt the effects of the mysterious liquor begin to work its magic again as the fire in your veins returned somehow even stronger than before. You were getting wound up and started overheating again as your sex clenched around nothing in the cool night air. You looked to Dale. He was in the process of rolling his white sleeves up and had already removed his bowtie and popped open the top buttons of his shirt.
He was feeling it too. You were so fucked.
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sammygems · 6 months
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Things I Have Noticed/Remembered from my MCDiaries rewatch
I will be updating this as I continue my rewatch, currently everything listed is out of order, cause I've started writing this as I am on episode 64 of season 1 and I don't feel like fixing it to be in order, so sorry!
What the fuck was Garroth's "plan" he mentions to Zenix in the first episode 😭
Zenix seems to be younger then Garroth in Diaries, considering the way that Garroth talks about him, but I think in MyStreet, Zenix is either the same age or slightly older then Garroth, so far this is like, the only obvious age difference between the series (besides Travis and everyone else of course)
I forgot how entertaining Brendan's character is, he's far less annoying then I remembered
ZANE AS AN ACTUAL BAD PERSON, I LOVE HIM
I love Vylad, but I legit forgot how much he was in Diaries season 1, I thought he was in it far less
Currently at the stage of Diaries where there is no lgbt+ people, i'm very disappointed by this (we haven't even reached the queerbaiting)
KC's character is....not as bad (racist) as I was expecting, still not great though. I'm choosing to believe that KC is from Tu'lu and Maid Cafes are a thing there, and "Kawaii~Chan" is just a stage name for her work.
Y'all know how Cadenza went missing and she was actually turned into a chicken? Yeah, the way Hayden, Castor, & Laurance talk about her to Aphmau makes it sound like Cadenza is a small child. But then it turns out she's the same age, if not older, then Laurance and Aphmau.
Aphmau should've just made Joh and Hayden lovers, I'm so serious, it would make the whole Cadenza and Laurance being "close like siblings" in season 1 to I think actually being called as siblings in season 2 and in MyStreet a lot easier to understand and make a lot more sense.
Why does Kenmur have like, some sort of romance with all the girls from Meteli??? He was engaged to Sasha and is stated to have feelings for Cadenza.
I love when the episodes open from Sasha's POV, and she goes and talks to Gene and there's just no voices. I love having to pause to read what they're saying. (this point is sarcasm)
The way literally everyone reacted to learning Laurance was blind was....icky. Like, I understand Cadenza and Aphmau reacting as like "we need to find a way to bring his sight back", but the fact that it was literally EVERYONE who decided he needed to get his sight back was so weird.
I don't mind Laurance ACTUALLY getting his sight back, but I wish it was done differently. Like, personally, I'd have him like, have to wash his face with the water of the fountain of Lady Irene.
Emma & Corey, Dale & Molly, and Logan & Donna are very sweet couples.
After Zoey and KC were able to turn Cadenza back to her human form, Zoey mentions that she "recognizes Cadenza from somewhere", but I don't think this goes anywhere???? I'm assuming it was supposed to hint at like, Cadenza's backstory.
ngl, I kinda wish we got more of Zane and Kiki's relationship, I really wanna know what side of Zane Kiki actually saw.
Anyway, Kiki is currently expecting.
Nicole (my beloved) has showed up. I've decided I won't question the logic behind her iron fists being able to break bedrock, and instead say that her referencing her iron fists just made me think of Ace from One Piece and Natsu & Gajeel from Fairy Tail.
I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT NICOLE'S FOX, ROXY, AND ABOUT THE WYVERNS IN GENERAL 😭
I need to mention that in one episode (before Aphmau went to Scaleswind and learned about Lady Irene), Garroth says to Aphmau "by the seven", which I think she was hurt, but the use of "by the seven" is similar to how the same phase would be used in Game of Thrones or to how irl lots of people say "oh my god", so I'm really wondering if there were originally supposed to be 7 Divine Warriors instead of 6.
The way when Aphmau found Levin and decided to keep him and Garroth IMMEDIATLY decided he would be Levin's father figure.
The way when Laurance found out that Aphmau had a kid, his response was to play with Levin and say to Aphmau "you didn't tell me you had this little buddle of joy/energy".
That's all for now, I'll like, update when I have more to add.
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omgkatherine01 · 3 months
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Between Your Wings - Chapter 3: Back to the City
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Series Masterlist
Chapter 2, Chapter 4
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female reader x Rick Grimes (slow burn)
Please comment, like and share
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That night, you sat around the campfire with the members of the camp. Rick was recounting his journey here, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."
"Mom said you died," Carl said softly, and you tilted your head sadly.
Rick nodded, his voice soft, "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt that."
"When things started getting really bad, they told us at the hospital that they were going to medevac you and other patients to Atlanta, but it never happened," Lori spoke up.
"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell," Rick said, "From the look of that hospital, it got overrun."
"Yeah, looks don't deceive," Shane finally spoke up, "I barely got them out, you know?"
Rick's eyes shifted to Shane, a small smile forming across his face, "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it."
Dale smiled, leaning back in his seat, "There go those words falling short again. Paltry things."
The sound of a log being dropped into a nearby fire caught your attention. You glanced over at the Peletiers, Ed sitting back down in his seat. Every night since you'd all arrived here, he had insisted that his family have their own fire. He wanted to keep Carol and their daughter Sophia as far away from the rest of you as possible.
"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane asked.
"It's cold, man," Ed told him.
"The cold don't change the rules, does it?" Shane asked. "Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"
"I said it's cold," Ed told him, "You should mind your own business for once."
Shane stood up, walking toward the Peletier family, standing in front of Ed, "Hey, Ed... are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?"
Ed looked at his wife, "Go on. Pull the damn thing out." Carol didn't move. "Go on!"
Carol stood up, walking around.
Shane shook his head, "Christ."
Carol pulled the log out of the fire, walking back to sit between Ed and Sophia.
Shane stomped the flames out, looking at Carol and Sophia, kneeling in front of them, "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?"
"Fine," Carol told him, "We're just fine."
"Okay," Shane told them.
"I'm sorry about the fire," Carol told him.
"No, no, no," Shane told her, "No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?"
"Thank you," Carol told him.
Shane stood up, looking at Ed, "I appreciate the cooperation." He walked away, walking back toward the others, sitting back between T-Dog and Amy.
Dale cleared his throat, everyone having clearly been watching the situation as intensely as you had, "Have you all given any more thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."
"I'll tell him," T-Dog said, "I dropped the key. It's on me."
"I cuffed him," Rick said, "That makes it mine."
"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn said, "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy... maybe... someone like Audery?"
You frowned and looked at your closes friend, "What?"
Glenn shrugged, "I'm just saying... you are the safest person to tell him. Because he won't beat you up."
You shook your head, "Nah, nope. I'm not telling shit. Wasn't there, didn't see what happened exactly." Glenn nudged your shoulder with his while some of the group smiled with amusement. "Don't drag me into this."
"I did what I did." You looked at T-Dog, who looked down in slight shame. "Hell if I'm gonna hide from it."
"We could lie," Amy suggested.
"Or we tell the truth," Andrea said, "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." She looked at Lori, "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."
"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asked, "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise--We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."
"I was scared, and I ran," T-Dog said softly, "I'm not ashamed of it."
"We were all scared," Andrea told him, "We all ran. What's your point?"
"I stopped long enough to chain that door," T-Dog said, "Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that--Not that chain, not that padlock. My point--Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."
The camp went silent, everyone reflecting on the conversation. Nobody really wanted to tell Daryl anything; You knew Daryl was a hot headed like Merle, but he wasn't nearly as bad as his big brother.
You wouldn't lie, ever since you've met the Dixon brothers, you thought the youngest Dixon was quite attractive. You were shy at first to approach him--not to mention you pulled your father's gun to his face when you first met him when he and Merle stepped into your and your father's hiding place--but as time went on, he got used to you been around him.
You knew you developed a crush on him, but you kept it to yourself. Or well used to, until you and Amy had a heart-to-heart talk, and she found out you had a crush on him, she teased you a couple of times when it was just the two of you, but she definitely kept it a secret.
You sighed softly and looked down at Max who was lying on your feet. You would have to be the one to talk to Daryl about Merle.
Slowly everyone started to turn in, heading to their tents. You picked Max into your arms and walked to your tent. You walked inside and placed Max on the tent's floor. He walked to his small bed, and you put your boots outside before zipping your tent up.
You petted Max before stepping to your bed and lying down.
Tomorrow will be hard; you just knew it.
****
You woke up to a lick on your hand and opened your eyes slowly to see Max was awake and he whimpered. You groaned softly and slowly got out of the bed. Max jumped to the entrance of the tent, and you unzipped it.
He jumped out and ran off, wiggling his tail and you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and brushed your fingers through your hair. You put your boots on and stepped out completely.
You looked around at the camp and spotted only a few people around while the others still sleeping, which meant it was pretty early in the morning. "Morning, Audrey!" You looked up at top of the RV to see Jim.
You smiled as you stepped up to the RV. "Morning, Jim."
"Slept well?"
You shrugged, "Guess so. And so did Max, since he hasn't woken me up in the middle of the night." Jim smiled as he let out a chuckle. "Did you sleep?"
"Yeah, don't worry, just took the shift from Shane," Jim said and frowned, "Dale said he was up all night." You frowned at that; Shane was supposed to be on shift night but during the night Dale was supposed to take over.
"Huh," you said softly and glanced around before spotting Max running toward you, with his tongue out. You kneeled down and petted your puppy with affection. "Who's a good boy?"
"Son of a bitch!"
You looked to the direction the shouting came from and saw Ed throwing his shoe on the ground. You looked down at Max who just tilted his head up at you. You glanced slowly to Ed's direction... which was where Max was before running to you.
"Oh, you really are a good boy," you praised your dog quietly and rubbed him on the head. "Yes, you are." Max gave a small bark and fell on his back, and you giggled as you rubbed his belly. "Yes, you are!"
"Hey!" You looked over to Ed as he stormed toward you, and you froze.
Carol ran after him worried, "Ed--"
"Shut it," he said as he glared over at her and then turned back to you as you stood up with Max in your arms. He pointed in your face, and you took a step back while he glared at you, "Your stupid dog ruined my shoe!"
"Is there a problem, Ed?" you looked over your shoulder at Shane as he approached to your side.
"That little bitch's dog peed in my shoe," Ed hissed.
Shane's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched before he spoke in a calm tone which sounded scary, "First of all, don't call her that. Second, your shoe must have fell on the side, should watch how to put your shoes outside the tent." He stepped forward and faced Ed closer, "Now, anything else?"
Ed didn't answer and just glared between the two of you for another second before turning and storming back toward his tent. Shane and you watched him and Carol before you looked at Shane as he stepped around and stood in front of you.
"You okay?" he asked, and you nodded. He nodded and looked at Max for a moment before he smirked lightly and petted his head, speaking softly, "Good boy."
You let out a chuckle as he praised him for the nasty trick, and Max barked, wiggling his tail happily.
****
Everyone were now up and around. The kids had asked you if it was all right to take Max and play with him near the camp, which you happily agreed for them to do so. But your happy mood changed when Dale had told you the men would have to take parts out from the sports car you stole yesterday. 
You stood on the side with your arms crossed over your chest, watching in complete sadness as Dale, Jim and Morales worked on the car. "It's not fair," you said, while the three amused men ignored your complains, "Taking my new car apart is just cruelty."
You felt someone next to you and you glanced over to see Rick, who was staring at the men and the car. "Look at 'em," you said as you looked at them, "They took my dream car."
You heard Rick letting out a soft chuckle. Dale stepped closer with part of the car, which made you sad even more. "Generators need every drop of fuel they can get," he said, "Got no power without it. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
He rubbed your arm and walked away. You looked over at Rick, "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days."
Rick petted your back with a nod, "Maybe we'll get to steal another one someday."
"Hope so," you muttered and glanced back at him as he walked toward Lori. You looked back at your ruined car in disappointment before letting a soft sigh.
You heard a honk and looked behind the car at Shane's jeep driving closer. Shane parked and leaned up, "Water's here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use." You watched the men approaching the jeep to help carry the water tanks.
You walked up to Shane who noticed your expression, "Oh no, what happened while I was away?" he asked with a frown.
"Stolen car has been torn apart," you answered.
"Oh boy, that's sucks," he said as he leaned to the passenger side and grabbed his rifle. "Look like one hell of a car. Don't worry, you get another one day."
"Can you go this time to the city and get me another one?" you asked with a small smirk.
He laughed, "Just because I care about you, that does not mean I'll go to the city just to get you the same looking car you stole." 
You pouted jokingly, "You mean." Your friendly conversation was cut off by screaming in the distance, and you tensed up and turned to where the screams came from.
"Mom!"
You watched as half the campers ran toward the direction the screaming came from. You followed them and immediately spotted Carl embracing his mother with Max in his arms. "What happened?" she asked, "Are you okay?!"
"Yeah," Carl answered as you watched the men running to where Jacqui was pointing.
You followed the men to the path and paused when you saw a walker kneeling down and eating an already dead deer. You leaned forward and saw the animal had a few arrows stuck in him.
You heard footsteps behind you and glanced over to see Andrea and Amy stopping near you. You turned back your attention to the men, the walker stopped and turned to them. He slowly got up and then Rick hit him with the pole, and he fell to the ground.
You watched the men beating the walker until Dale finished the walker off by chopping his head off with an axe. There was a moment of silent after that until Dale spoke, "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain."
You heard small growling and looked down to see Max had left Carl's side and now was standing next to you and the sisters. His tail wiggled and he was staring at the dead walker.
You picked Max up and held him in your arms before turning your attention back to the men. "They're running out of food in the city, that's what," Jim said.
You heard branch snapping from behind him and you all looked tensed up. Andrea pulled you and Amy near her sides as you watched the men holding their weapons up.
Then after a moment of only hearing the footsteps approaching, you were relief to see it was only Daryl stepping into view. He paused and stared at the men, and they lowered their weapons down when they realized it was only Daryl.
"Oh, Jesus."
Max gave one bark in your arms when he saw Daryl, his tail wiggling.
"Son of a bitch," Daryl snapped as he looked at the deer. "That's my deer!" He walked closer. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this--" He kicked the Walker. "Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard."
"Calm down, son," Dale told him, "That's not helping."
Daryl walked around the Walker, standing in front of Dale, and you took a few steps forward toward them. "What do you know about it, old man?" he snapped, "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'?" He walked back to the deer, taking out the arrows. "I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"
As much as venison sounded good, you had to disagree because of the walker, "I would not risk that," you spoke up and glanced around at the men to see Shane nodding in agreement, before at Daryl.
Daryl looked back at you and then at the deer with a sigh, "That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel--about a dozen or so. That'll have to do."
The head of the Walker started to move his teeth. "Oh, God," Amy said behind you and you glanced back to see the sisters leaving.
"Come on, people," Daryl said and you turned back. "What the hell?" He shot the Walker's head with his crossbow. The arrow hit him in the eye, killing the walker. Daryl pulled the arrow out. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"
Daryl walked past Shane and Rick. He petted Max on the head as he walked past you. You turned to the men and saw Rick watching Daryl leaving. "Yeah..." you trailed off and he looked at you, "That's Daryl."
You turned and took a step to leave but then Glenn spoke, "So... Audrey, you will... right?" You turned and gave Glenn a look as you raised your eyebrow. You didn't say anything and just turned and walked after Daryl to the camp.
"Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up."
You gently placed Max on the ground, and he ran up to the RV to where Lori was. You cleared your throat, "Hey Daryl?" Daryl stopped and turned to you as you walked close to him. "I, uh, I need to talk to you."
"'Bout what?" Daryl asked.
"About Merle," you answered, "There was a--there was a problem in Atlanta."
Daryl looked around, then he looked at you, "He dead?"
"No, I mean, we don't think so--" you started as Shane stepped to your side.
"We're not sure."
"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl yelled at him.
Rick walked closer, "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."
"Who are you?"
"Rick Grimes."
"Rick Grimes," Daryl huffed, "You got something you want to tell me?"
"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."
"Hold on, let me process this," Daryl said as he stepped back, facing away from everyone as he wiped his eyes. It took a moment before he turned back to Rick, "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?"
"Yeah."
Without missing a beat, Daryl flung the rope of squirrels at Rick before rushing to tackle him. Shane jumped into action, body slamming him to the ground as you stepped back. Daryl then pulled out a knife, swinging it back and forth at the two men. "Daryl, stop!" you called.
Rick was able to sneak in a gut punch, allowing for Shane to get Daryl into a choke hold. "You'd best let me go!" Daryl yelled, thrashing his body.
Shane shook his head, "I think it's better if I don't."
"Choke hold's illegal," Daryl snapped. 
"You can file a complaint," Shane said as Daryl continuing to thrash in his arms, "Come on, man. We can do this all day."
Rick knelt in front of Daryl, looking him in the eyes, "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?"
Daryl thought for a moment, before choking out a quiet 'Yeah'. Shane looked at Rick for reassurance before letting the man go.
"What I did was not on a whim," Rick told him, "Your brother does not work and play well with others."
"It's not Rick's fault," T-Dog told him, "I had the key. I dropped it."
"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl asked. 
"I dropped it in a drain."
Rick stood up as Daryl looked down at the ground, breathing heavily, standing up, looking at T-Dog, "If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."
"Well, maybe this will," T-Dog told him, "Look, I chained the door to the roof--So the geeks couldn't get at him--with a padlock."
Rick looked at Daryl, "It's gotta count for something."
Daryl looked away, shaking his head, "Hell with all y'all!" He looked at Rick. "Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him."
"He'll show you," Lori told him, and everyone looked at her, "Isn't that right?"
Rick looked around, nodding, "I'm going back." Lori shook her head slightly and she turned and walked into the RV. You looked at Rick and watched him walking to the tents and Shane followed him clearly pissed off with the idea.
You stepped to your ruined car and leaned against the side of it as you crossed your arms across your chest. Daryl glanced to your way before quickly he sat down on one of the rocks and started to clean his arrows.
There was a couple of minutes of silent, full of tension in the air until you saw Rick and Shane walking back to the main camp, with Rick in his uniform.
"Well, look, I--I don't, okay, Rick?" Shane asked, "So could you just--Could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?"
"Hey, choose your words more carefully," Daryl snapped at him.
"No, I did," Shane told him. "Douche bag's what I meant." He looked at Rick. "Merle Dixon--The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."
"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me," Rick told him, "I can't let a man die of thirst--me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."
Lori was sitting on logs with Carl and Max, "So you and Daryl, that's your big plan?"
Rick turned around, before his eyes landed on you. Oh no, he was staring at me you thought. You pointed at yourself, "Me?"
"You know the way," Rick pleaded as he stepped closer to you, "You've been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you there. I know she would too." His eyes landed on Lori, and you looked over at her for a moment. You sighed and nodded lightly.
"That's just great," Shane told him sarcastically. "Now you're gonna risk three people, huh?"
"Four," T-Dog said.
"My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl huffed.
"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog asked.
"Why you?"
"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."
Dale let out a heavy sigh, "That's four then."
"It's not just four," Shane said, looking at Rick, "You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp."
"Sounds to me like what you really need are more guns," Rick said.
"What guns?" Shane asked.
"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns," Rick explained, "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up."
"Ammo?" Shane asked. 
"700 rounds, assorted," Rick answered. 
"You went through hell to find us," Lori told him, "You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?"
Carl stepped forward, looking up at Rick, "Dad, I don't want you to go."
"To hell with the guns," Lori told him. "Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Rick walked closer to them. Lori stood up. "Tell me. Make me understand."
"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy," Rick told her, "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him."
"What's stopping you?" Lori asked.
"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped," Rick answered. "He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."
"These are our walkies?" Shane asked. 
"Yeah," Rick answered. 
"So use the CB," Andrea told him. "What's wrong with that?"
"The CB's fine," Shane said, "It's the walkies that suck to crap--Date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth--Not even the scanners in our cars."
Rick looked at Lori, "I need that bag. Okay?"
Lori looked away, "All right."
As the men began loading the van for the trip, you approached Lori who stared longingly at her husband. "Hey, I'll watch over him, don't worry," you assured.
Lori looked at you and smiled a small smile, nodding. She wrapped her arms around you, bringing you into a hug. You hugged her back as she spoke quietly, "I didn't get the chance to thank you for saving him."
"What, he told you?" you asked, and you both pulled out from the embrace.
"Yes."
"You're welcome," you said, "I got his back, don't worry."
Lori nodded and then said, "Be careful out there."
"Always am."
Daryl beeped on the horn of the van with his feet, "Come on, let's go!"
Carl ran closer and you hugged him gently, "Alright, bud, remember what happens when I'm out?"
"Keep Max close," he said as he pulled away.
You smirked and nodded, "See you soon."
He waved to you goodbye as you headed to the van. You got into the passenger seat and closed the door. Rick got into the driver seat and closed his door. After a moment of waiting, you glanced over and saw Daryl sliding the back door close and sat in front of T-Dog.
"All right let's get going," you muttered, and Rick started the van and drove off.
****
"He'd better be okay." You glanced up from the map and over your shoulder to Daryl when he spoke, you saw him looking at T-Dog, "It's my only word on the matter."
"I told you the geeks can't get at him," T-Dog told him, "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us."
You turned back your attention to the road and when you saw you reached just outside the city and on the railroad tracks, you looked at Rick, "Stop here."
Rick did as you said and slowly stopped and parked the van. "We walk from here," you said as you glanced at the men before opening the door and getting out. They followed your move and you glanced at T-Dog and saw him holding his side for a brief second before letting his arm fall. "You okay?" you asked.
"Yeah," he answered as you all ran to the gates, and walked through the cut fence of the highway.
Rick looked at you, "Merle first or guns?"
"Merle," Daryl snapped, "We ain't even having this conversation."
"We are," Rick warned him and then turned his attention back to you, "You know the geography. It's your call."
"Merle's closest," you answered, "The guns would mean doubling back." You glanced at Daryl, "Merle first."
Daryl gave a small nod to you, and you all ran all the way to the building of the clothing store, and you all paused. There were no longer herd of walkers around the area but that didn't mean there was no walkers inside. Rick walked in first, and looked around before nodding for all of you to follow in.
Rick stopped you all suddenly, seeing a Walker inside, looking at Daryl, signaling him. Daryl walked past you, walking toward the Walker, holding his crossbow, "Damn. You are one ugly skank."
The Walker noticed him, taking a step closer but then Daryl shot an arrow to the Walker's head, killing it, walking toward it. He pulled the arrow out, cleaning it from blood with his pants. "Let's go," he said, and you all ran to the stairs that lead to the roof.
At the top of the stairs, T-Dog cut the chain to the door. Daryl pushed past him, throwing the door open and running onto the roof.
"Merle! Merle!" Daryl called out, looking around.
You followed the men who came to an abrupt stop.
"Oh, my God," you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand.
Daryl rushed over, "No!" You looked at him, and he began pacing back and forth, tears welling in his eyes as he continued to scream out.
Everyone remained silent, not knowing exactly what to say; if there was anything to say.
Your eyes lingered on the ground, Merle's severed hand sitting next to a hacksaw. Semi-dried blood was pooled around it, droplets leading away from the scene. Yet, there was no sign of Merle at all.
That crazy son of a bitch.
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