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romanoffsbish · 7 months

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Who Are You People?!

Yelena Belova x F!R (Platonic)

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Yelena had a tendency to bring home strays, and it had always bothered you, until one day it didn’t. WC: 1,929

Request(via dm): “could you do a imagine where Yelena keeps bringing home random animals and even people and drives the reader up the wall” | I gave it a cute little romance spin

Yelena had a tendency to miss signs. Trained as she may be, with the discipline to prove it, she just never was much for understanding the social norms. So, you had learned to adapt—after that first night as roomies, when she told you everything she’d done and been you hadn’t much of a choice. There was no such thing as a filter, she believed in open conversations, which didn’t bother you. It was her belief in the open doors that did.

——

The first time you came home to one of her eccentric guests you were startled into losing your groceries. A frown befell your face as the soy milk box spewed its contents on the floor along with the yolks of your eggs.

Fanny, as you’ve learned to know, and love her as, was there to lick up the mess. After she’d finished licking your cheek in a rushed greeting, she’d disposed of your hard earned money in the form of the wasted food.

Yelena had apologized, and for some odd reason you believed she took the hint after the entire ordeal.

Then you came home a week later to find her nowhere, but your house sure wasn’t empty. Five woman in various positions all looked up at you with fierce eyes. One of them raised her arm, and the loud whirring told you all you needed to know. These were widows, and the pain you were about to feel would be hellish.

“Oksana, put your arm down, this is just Y/N,” your roommate admonished her friend with the black hair, “Honestly cyka, you should be able to see she is of no real threat, or have you lost touch with your eyes?”

Then the blonde turned to you with a genuine smile, as if she didn’t nearly get you fried, then call you weak. “Would you like to join us for game night Y/N/N?”

You sighed harshly through your nose, tempering the anger you felt for the sake of your new friend’s heart. She was strong, but you could also tell she was soft, and breaking her spirit for her lack of social understanding, at no fault of her own, would be cruel.

“Sorry Lena, but I have to be up early,” you lied, and gave the girl a quick hug before heading upstairs to your room where you enjoyed the needed solitude.

Occurrences like that became normal, the random game nights, and the alarming amount of new animals you found yourself feeding, and faces you’d forget. Yelena trusted easily, as in, she knew that if anyone she brought home on a whim would try anything, she could handle them without even breaking a sweat.

You put up with just about everything—if she had a mission gone wrong, her stitched up field partner, a cheery girl by the name of Kate Bishop, would sleep on your couch and greet you with sudoku and breakfast.

That first meeting was terrible too, as you’d stumbled into your dark house and threw yourself on top of her. It ended quickly, with Yelena coming downstairs with a gun and you and Kate in opposite corners screaming.

Her in pain, and you in fear. You had left to bed embarrassed, and woke up to laugh about it with her.

You don’t mind the archer, but you would have liked a heads up. You always wanted it, but never received it, and slowly but surely a festering of resentment resided.

Everything honestly came to a head last night, when you finally agreed to spend the night in a shitty bar with your favorite coworkers. You’d let loose way beyond your limits, and as you were rushed into the house by a equally drunk friend all you wanted was to make yourself a mug of tea, grab a snack, and sleep.

Yet when you went to make yourself something you found that your tea was used up, the kitchen was a mess of wasted food and dishes, and Yelena’s strangers were all asleep around the place, one even in your bed.

“Yelena!” The blonde cringed from her place on the balcony, where she stood with a dying bud in her hand. She hoped you’d go home with a friend, or a stranger of your own, so that she would have been able to clean up the mess that had occurred from a party gone bad.

You never told her to stop, but she always saw in your eyes that you didn’t trust her process of friend making. The truth was the blonde just liked the freedom to choose. No one could tell her the man with the eye patch on the corner was bad news, and make her stop talking to him. He told her stories about his life as a young man, and how it ended him here, she believed that no one was undeserving of sharing their stories.

Still, she felt guilty for letting these friends inside to trash your place. Kenny was never meant to be in your room, let alone be allowed to sleep, but she was just too drunk an hour ago to care about removing him.

You waited with your arms crossed for her to join you in the kitchen, and when she entered you let loose. “Yelena, I do not care who you keep as company, but for the love of God never let them in my bed again, give me a heads up from now on, and keep the place tidy!”

The blonde blinked a few times, having expected your tirade to be more venomous, but she appreciated that it wasn’t. You were clearly mad, but you weren’t rude.

“Okay, I’m sorry you can have my room tonight, and I promise everyone will be gone by morning Y/N.”

After that conversation she seemed to understand that just letting anyone in, without at least a heads up, was poor etiquette, which wouldn’t fly. The blonde strived to be the best roommate, she once told you she would be so good that they’d have to give her the crown for it.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her it would never happen, actually, you had the big heart that led to you leaving an emerald bejeweled crown for her on the counter one morning. The childlike smile she wore was enough to keep you from regretting it when she wore it all day and made you read the congratulations they’d (you’d) left for her. It made you feel warm inside to be able to help the former assassin heal her inner child.

But now, as you stood before a stunning woman in nothing but a raggedy shirt and old white, cotton panties you were feeling that regret return and double.

When you went to sleep last night you were once again not informed to be prepared for strangers in the form of guests. In Yelena’s defense though she wasn’t exactly expecting this one, so she rushed out the door with an excited Fanny and whispered to her sister to keep it quiet so you could sleep off your night out on the town.

Unfortunately, the sound of the front door closing was enough to rouse you, your eyes opened and a groan slipped passed your lips as the bright sun beamed into your face mockingly. After a moment of calm you felt a headache burning behind your arm covered eyes, so you headed down the stairs to get to your kitchen for a cup of water so that you could take an Advil and crash.

“I, um, I’m sorry,” you managed to squeak out, and in an embarrassed rush you turned on your feet, but before you could even move up a step you were halted.

“Hey,” she rasped, and watched in amusement as your spine shivered before her very eyes. “There’s no need to apologize darling, this is your house after all. I’m sorry to have barged in, but I needed somewhere to lay low for a while. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

Your stomach swirled with aroused tension, the pet name, the gritty tone of her voice, and the intense look in her eyes had you going weak in the knees. It showed as you stumbled down the last two steps and skirted to a stop just before her. “No, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting company is all. I’d have gotten dressed.”

Natasha was suave with the way she pushed your bodies together, using the wall to keep you trapped against her, and unable to avoid her temptations. It was only a breaths time for you to find yourself there.

“I can assure you honey,” her hand fell to your thigh and your heart raced incessantly. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t either,” you admitted, but felt too seen so you continued on, “That you stay here, to lay low, that is.”

“Oh,” she teased, with the lightness in her voice, “I’m so glad to hear that, because we will have the chance to get to know each other better. Maybe we’ll even…”

You wanted to know what might be, but fate decided to leave that for another day as the door flew open and Yelena shrieked, “Oh my god, no, Fanny girl cover your eyes!” You looked over in confusion. “Natasha, unhand my roommate now!” The redhead rolled her eyes, and stepped back with a smirk as you whined at her loss.

You hadn’t a chance to protest—or even say goodbye, as Yelena reached for her sister’s hand and pulled her away, fighting with her in their mother tongue.

“Chto s toboy ne tak.”

(What the fuck is wrong with you?)

“Mne? chto s toboy ne tak?! ona velikolepna, i ty derzhal yeye ot menya”

(me? what's wrong with you?! she is gorgeous and you kept her from me)

“Ona zapreshchena, Natal'ya”

(she is off limits, Natalia)

“Eto ne to, chto skazali yeye glaza.”

(that's not what her eyes said)

The door slammed and you didn’t even flinch, too busy daydreaming about the moments prior. And for the first time since Yelena had become your very own (craigslist found) roommate you didn’t mind the thought of getting to see one of her guests again; Natasha had made her mark on you in record time.

——

That night, Yelena came back with her head low, and elder sister in tow. The redhead smiled triumphantly as she winked at you, your nervous gaze fell, and in her hands laid a sleeping kitten. “Y/N, meet Liho…”

You chuckled in amusement, and scooped the kitten up and settled her into your lap. “What’s so funny detka?”

“It’s just,” you stifled another rude laugh. “Yelena’s strays have never brought one of their own before.”

Natasha took a second to process your tease as she sat beside you, eventually she leaned forward, her chin resting on your tense shoulder. “I am more so a lone wolf type, no one’s stray. I plan on sticking around for a while too, so I hope you don’t make it a habit of being so bare in front of my sister, save that for me instead.”

“Also,” she scooped the sleeping kitten up and onto her shoulder, “Liho is no longer a stray, she is a house cat.”

Yelena settled beside you, frowning, “I’m sorry Y/N…”

“Don’t be,” you shrugged her off, and patted her knee before you followed the trail of her sisters upstairs.

Yelena huffed, and snuggled into her Akita’s fur. “This is why I prefer dogs to people. They are so overrated.”

——

R (for real)

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celtic-crossbow · 8 months

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Help Me Hold Onto You

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (Ended relationship)

Setting: Alexandria after 6 year jump

Warnings: Angst, More angst, No happy here, mentions of pregnancy

Summary: Daryl comes back after his 6 year absence to talk to you. He receives quite the shock.

A/N: Feeling blah. Needed to channel negative energy. Sorry!

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Moodboard by @dannyo000

Daryl gnawed on the skin of his thumb while staring at the edge of the crop rows. Michonne had told him you would be there and that he should really go see you. She was, in fact, rather insistent. He nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot. Would you even want to see him? Things hadn’t exactly ended amicably when you had stumbled upon him with Leah. Even allowing the other woman’s name to occupy his thoughts for a mere second brought an onslaught of guilt and self-loathing. He had been caught in a moment of weakness, not putting a stop to Leah’s advances when it was your lips he craved.

‘Idiot.’ With a heavy sigh, he trudged forward, scanning over the individuals hard at work maintaining the surplus of crops in the community. It was your hair he noticed first, no longer flowing wildly down your back but cropped off just below your shoulders. His eyes studied the visible skin below the spaghetti straps of the sundress you were wearing. He had always envisioned you in a dress. It was not the right color and looked to be a little longer than the one his imagination supplied, but it was hard to tell while you were kneeling in front of the tomato plants.

The familiar spread of freckles were shining with a sheen of sweat from work in the midday sun. With narrowing eyes, he took in the way your shoulder blades seemed more pronounced and your arms were much slimmer than the last time he saw you. He could see the muscles flex beneath your skin as you dug in the soil. Even from his limited vantage point, you appeared…frail.

Forced to steel his nerves, he stepped closer, only coming to a stop when a few feet separated you. “Hey, Y/N.” The archer eyed you carefully, even took a step back when your movements froze and a visible tension seized across your body.

“What are you doing here, Dixon?”

Your cold tone forced his heart to freeze and drop into his stomach, twisting a knot that made him nauseous. What the hell had Michonne been thinking? Daryl closed his eyes briefly, inhaling through his nose. Words were failing him, any and all logical responses lost in the tension. “How, uh…how are ya?”

“Fine. You done?”

You had yet to move, to even look at him. He had definitively fucked this up royally. One kiss—a kiss he neither wanted nor reciprocated—had destroyed this precious relationship that had taken years to build. The archer sighed. “No. M’not.”

You stood then—with quite a bit of difficulty, he noted—but kept your back to him. “Just save it. I’m not interested.” Your gardening gloves were peeled from your hands and tossed roughly to the dirt. “Unless you’ve got other business here, you can go.” He watched you pivot away from him, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel.

“Damnit, woman, m’trying t’ fix this!” Daryl was careful not to raise his voice, to not be so quick to anger; something he was still learning to control after all these years.

Your steps halted, eyes hesitantly peering back at him from over your shoulder. Pale skin gave way to dark circles around dull orbs. You really didn’t look well. He opened his mouth to inquire and was quick to close it when those same eyes narrowed angrily.

“There’s nothing to fix, Dixon.”

It was more than clear that you didn’t want him there. He could feel the anger permiating the air in waves, the knot in his gut twisting tighter. He was treading dangerous ground. He could push you, say what he needed to say and hope for the best. Or he could obey your wishes and go, maybe try again in the future. Maybe not.

You were still watching him as the breeze picked up, cool but not chilling the early autumn air. He was still weighing his options when your shorter hair blew to the side and revealed the back of your neck. Light reflected off a silver chain there and hope rekindled in his chest. You were still wearing the necklace he had gifted you during one of your nights on the riverbank.

“Y/N, I—”

You rounded on him so quickly that he stumbled back a step, hands out in a placating manner as you reached for him and shoved him back further. “You stupid, selfish, cowardly pig! How dare you! I can't believe you came here now with this shit!” Your shoves continued but Daryl had stopped blocking, taking each hit with an unreadable expression. You stopped, breathing heavily, and stepped back to throw up your arms in exasperation.

“Y/N.” It was almost a whisper, so quiet and full of emotion that if you hadn’t been so angry with him, you would have gathered him into your arms and never let go.

But you were angry. “What?” You bellowed. “What do you want?”

Daryl couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was slamming a tattoo into his ribs. The world around him was blurry, voices fuzzy like being underwater. Except yours. Except you. The archer finally managed to bring you into focus, just as realization of what you had revealed became evident on your pale face.

Yes, you did indeed look thin and sickly but that wasn’t why Daryl couldn’t seem to look away. He couldn’t even seem to blink. Your dress, loose as it was, still managed to hug your swollen stomach. The bump was not large but still evident, your small hands now twisting into the fabric of the dress nervously.

His mouth moved but he couldn’t force his voice to work, so he clamped his lips shut. The anger was still evident in your expression, and he somehow noticed that you were trembling but he couldn’t look away from the area beneath your fisted hands.

“How?” Daryl heard the words but didn’t remember speaking. “Ya said ya couldn’t—”

“Does it matter?”

“S’it—” he shifted uncomfortably, pointing and withdrawing only to point again. “S’it mine?” Daryl finally forced his gaze away from your belly to lock eyes with you. It wasn’t long before your anger dissipated and morphed into something else, tears springing to your lashes. “Y/N.”

You flinched but he needed an answer and he needed it now.

The people had heard the commotion and hushed whispers were hissing all around the two of you. Daryl could see Michonne from the corner of his eye. She had kept her distance but had apparently wanted to stay in the vicinity in case things got heated. The archer couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t still end that way.

“It is.” You finally acknowledged, inciting a collective gasp from the onlookers. Your hands had dropped to your sides to take up twisting the fabric there.

Michonne stepped forward after a few more unnerving moments of silence, motioning toward the small crowd that had gathered. “Okay, everyone! Nothing more to see! Let’s get back to work!”

The two of you remained stoic as the people dispersed back to their activities, neither moving a muscle even as Alexandria’s leader stepped up to plant herself between you. “I think this should continue somewhere a little more private.” When neither indicated you had even heard her, Michonne leaned into Daryl’s line of sight to catch his eye. He seemed to snap out of his trance and gave a jerky nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” You replied quietly when the same was done to you. You swayed a little when you took the first step. Only through sheer force of will did Daryl not reach out to steady you. It didn’t matter. Michonne had already taken hold of your upper arm.

“Can you make it there?” The sword-wielder asked with obvious concern. “I can end this right now.”

A rush of panic surged through the archer’s chest, nearly suffocating him where he stood. What was wrong with you? Was something wrong with the baby? His baby? “I’ll make sure she’s alrigh’.” With a deep breath, he stepped forward and reached for you, careful not to touch. Neither of you needed that right now. His hand hovered as Michonne held fast.

“Y/N?” The other woman questioned. You only spared Daryl a glance before facing your friend and nodding. Michonne returned the motion and let go to step back out of the way. Just as you started to leave, Daryl staying close by, Michonne called out his name. It was a clear warning.

Take it easy on her.

He nodded without looking back and continued to follow. The community looked so different compared to his last visit. The rebuilt homes were less alluring, most having been constructed on top of anything that had been left of the previous structure. The place still had its appeal but it gave off more of a farmland vibe now than a prestigious community.

The tension had seemed to fizzle out along with your energy. You walked slowly at his side, shoulders slumped and head down. Your face was hidden by a curtain of hair when he risked a sidelong glance. Daryl half wondered if you were even paying attention to where you were leading him. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, you pivoted to the left and crossed in front of him to ascend the few steps of a porch. He followed close behind but chose not to hover. You pulled open the screen door and pushed the main door inward, letting the first slam closed behind you. You had left the other open, for him, he assumed, but it felt wrong to just walk in.

Daryl pulled a cigarette from his vest pocket, along with a book of matches. When the tip had sizzled down and the first draw of smoke entered his lungs, he shook out the match and laid it on the small table next to a chair. Forgoing the obvious seating, the archer hopped up onto the railing and stared into the house. He couldn’t see you but could hear you moving around. You hadn’t come to investigate yet so you had to know he was still there.

Daryl finished his cigarette and stamped it out on the porch, crossing the two steps to the door. The uneasy feeling was still there. It weighed heavily on him that he couldn’t just walk in like he would have before Rick.… Clearing his throat to swallow down the new flood of emotion, he raised a fist to tap on the screen door with his knuckles. You appeared from around a corner at the end of a short hall, briefly locking eyes with him. Averting your gaze, you jerked your head to invite him in.

The home was simple inside, all mismatched furniture and mostly bare walls save for your handheld crossbow hanging next to the door. Looking for too long felt intrusive, so he lowered his eyes to the floor and proceeded down the hall and into what turned out to be the kitchen.

You were standing there, on the opposite side of a small island with one hand wrapped around a glass of water. The other hand was sitting atop your rounded belly, mostly hidden from where he now stood.

A few awkward moments passed with Daryl staring at the part of your hand he could see and you watching him uneasily. “Where’s Dog?”

The archer’s eyes slowly raised to your face, where he found he couldn’t seem to keep them. Leaning against the side of the refrigerator, he began to pick at his palm. “Jude’s got ‘im.” You nodded and took a sip from the glass. More silence followed before Daryl couldn’t wait any longer for the answers he felt so strongly he was owed. “How long?”

“What?”

He didn’t really feel like repeating himself but if he wanted you to answer, he’d have to be willing to communicate past the unsettledness. “How long ya known?”

Your lips formed a small “o” and you nodded. “About three months, I guess.” Your fingertips busied themselves tracing shapes on the countertop.

“An’ ya ne’er thought t’ come tell me?” There was an edge of agitation to his voice. Hell, he was agitated.

“Oh, I thought about it plenty of times.” You snapped, expression hardening when he looked up to meet your eyes. Your hand was wrapped so tightly around the water glass that it was a wonder it hadn’t yet shattered. “But then I always seem to remember that you have plenty of things to occupy your time.”

Daryl wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what you meant. “Ya don’ even know whatcha saw that day.” It was taking some serious control to keep his tone level now. Everything inside him screamed that this would not end well but he pressed on anyway. “Ran away an’ didn’ even gimme a chance t’ ‘splain.”

“I saw plenty, Dixon!” You wisely pushed the glass away from yourself. “That woman’s tongue down your throat! You wanna explain though? Go ahead! Explain!” You hissed, rounding the island. You stopped yourself a few feet from him. “Who is she?”

Daryl was listening as he worked hard to keep himself in check. His temper was itching to flare. “‘er name was Leah. She’s not ‘round anymore, Y/N.”

“So sad for you, I’m sure.” You mocked, crossing your arms. “So what is this? She left you so you thought you could just come back here and we’d pick up where we left off?”

“S’not like tha’.” Daryl sighed. He straightened his stance and dared a step forward, his heart nearly sinking when you stepped back. “There weren’ ne’er nothin’ with ‘er.”

You seemed to consider that, your eyes almost seeming to shake back and forth to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.” You shook your head and started to turn away but the archer quickly crossed the distance between you to lay a hand on your shoulder. Your skin was so cold. You both stared at his hand before he quickly removed it.

“Y/N, I…I stayed away cause I didn’ think ya’d want t’ see me.”

“You were right.” You answered quietly after a few moments. His heart sank. “I didn’t. And I don’t.” You did walk away then but stopped in another doorway, keeping your back to him. “I won’t keep you from your kid, Dixon. They’ll need their father.”

Daryl swallowed hard, feeling a familiar sting in his eyes.

You reached out to place your hand on the doorframe. You looked tired. “I’m due in the winter. You can be a part of this, as much or a little as you want.” You took a step into the room and paused again. “That day in the woods, when I saw you with her… I was coming to tell you about the baby.”

And then you were gone.

The archer sniffed, forcing back the fierce assault of emotion that threatened to take him to his knees. He wiped furiously at his eyes with each arm and paced to one side of the kitchen and then back. He couldn’t leave it like this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This isn’t what he saw when he would envision your future. It was all wrong. Daryl looked to the door where you had been and took a step, his body freezing afterward when he remembered Michonne had made it clear he shouldn’t upset you.

Clenching his fists, he spun toward the hall and all but ran out the door, slamming it closed behind him.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon angst #no happy ending #daryl dixon x female reader #Spotify

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pakhnokh · 1 year

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Archer Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning Losing his golden core made Wei Wuxian lose a lot of his power and abilities (thus he turned to dark arts) and feeling vulnerable, he decided to never carry his sword from the fear that he would be challenged to duel someone.

But even as Yiling Laozu, and his dark powers aside, Wei Wuxian wasn’t weak probably. It’s during this time exactly that he showed such mastery in archery (shooting bullseye blindfolded in phoenix mount hunt, and killing a man just by throwing the arrow at him with his hand).

And I just think that this is so badass! I imagine yllz!wwx carrying a bow and quiver on him, and reaching the level of transferring dark magic to his arrows when he shoots. And we also got to know that Wen Ning was a real pro in archery and it’s sad that it wasn’t explored in the story... so imagine if corpse!WN could reach fine motor skills with time as WWX perfected him, and the both of them, the Yiling Laozu and the Ghost General could become the most fearsome dark archers in the cultivation world.

#mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #yiling laozu #wen ning

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on-twd-writing · 9 months

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there is no but for me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warning: mention of infertility. English is not my first language.

Readers pronuns: She/Her

Description: Abraham asks Daryl a question (S6E11)

Italics is for the flashback.

There is no but for me

The last few weeks have been draining, and the fear of the so-called Saviors became more real day by day.

They had to be faster, they had to fight them and win. There wasn’t even another option, no plan B. In this world, a plan B meant death most of the time. Yet there was a small spark of hope. Maggie was pregnant, and she and Glenn were as happy as ever. There was so much death and fear in the world, that Maggie's pregnancy almost sounded like a miracle. And this kind of miracle also reached a certain redhead in the group.

Abraham started to think about the possibilities. A family. A place to settle down. His own daughter or son. With Sasha, he could imagine this, yet he hesitated. The whole idea had been kinda new to him. Even though Abraham was sure about a lot of things, he wasn’t sure about this plan for his life. When you have a child, you have to take responsibility, you have to protect the child, care for it and while Abraham was sure he would be capable of doing both things, he wasn’t sure if the world would let him do this.

And that was why he was asking the others for their opinion. He needed to hear their thoughts; he needed some reassurance that starting a family in this world was okay. That he wouldn’t make a mistake with this one.

The next one on his list was no other than Daryl Dixon.

Abraham knew that Daryl and Y/N were a thing, despite never making it official. But they didn’t have to, Abraham has watched them long enough to see it. How Y/N would always stay up with Daryl to stay on watch, while they were still on the road and before they arrived in Alexandria. Y/N was somehow able to understand the grunts and huffs of the archer, she was the one who was able to calm him down whenever things escalated. He wouldn’t flinch at her touches, and sometimes they would sit in complete silence for hours, since they didn’t need words anymore to communicate.

So, for Abraham, it was clear, that if someone would settle down as well, it would be these two. Why not? Daryl and Y/N were also good with kids, from what the redhead could tell.

"You ever think about it? Settlin’ down?"

Daryl raised his head, looking at Abraham. What was going on with the redhead?

"You know… marriage, kids, the whole package. Come on, everyone knows about you and Y/N" Abraham chuckled a bit.

"So, you have never thought about it?"

"Ya think shit’s settled?"

Daryl let out a gruff, slowly walking away, over to you. What did Abraham expect from Daryl? A conversation about marriage? Children? Not only was Daryl a very private person, but there was another reason behind it.

Of course, you have talked about it. Actually, not that long ago…

It was one of the first nights in Alexandria, and he couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to. This place wasn’t as safe as it seemed, or as people wanted to believe it. He couldn’t let his guard down, he had to protect his family….Judith, Carl… you. His partner. He never liked the term girlfriend. It sounded like you were in high school.

When he heard your steps on the porch, he didn’t look up until you sat down next to him on the stairs. You handed him a cup of coffee – black coffee, no milk or sugar, exactly how he liked it. Daryl looked at you, a slight nod – thank you.

You two sat in silence for a long time. The dark, innocent city lay in front of you, and for a moment, the world didn’t seem so cruel. Maybe peace was an option. Maybe coming home was finally an option.

"What’s on your mind?"

Your quite voice broke the silence and he looked at you. Yet you knew him to well that something was bugging him. He was staring into the night and you knew him, you knew him well enough.

"Do ya think this place can be a home?"

You let your eyes wander around, thinking about it for a moment. The clean streets, the smell of fresh flowers, running water …a soft bed…

"I want to."

You really wanted it but yet you couldn’t fully believe and understand it. But one part of you wanted to believe it, that maybe finally you could have a place you can call a home. This feeling was burning inside your chest, now a small flame but who knew maybe a fire in a few weeks.

"What ‘bout a … home for us?"

Your eyes grew bigger when you heard this question. You two never really put a name on it, you didn’t have to. You never pushed Daryl to give it a name, and he never gave you a reason that you needed a name for it.

"Sounds…like a good future for us…"

You smiled at him, leaned your head against his shoulder, as you closed your eyes.

"I really like the idea."

You could feel how Daryl smiled slightly as well. You two have never talked about the future, since you never knew if there was a future for you. Would you survive the next day? Next week? Month?

"Ya do?"

Daryl never thought about settling down with a woman. Before the world went down, he had been shamed by Merle for having any romantic feelings. Or being soft for someone.

"Yes,… even this is new and it still feels weird, I want that. I want a future with you and I want… this to work out here… for us."

"Wha’ da ya wish for?"

Daryl wanted to give you everything. He wanted to make you happy, to feel safe and protected. He would do everything for you, just to see the beautiful smile of yours.

You snuggled closer to him, thinking about it.

"I want to wake up next to you, in a cozy bed and none of us has to get up right away. I want to try to cook with you…"

He let out a chuckle, knowing very well that you are a terrible cook.

"… and then end up at Carols place, because otherwise we wouldn’t get a nice dinner. I want to listen to music with you, read a book while you work on your bike. I want to wash our clothe and-"

"Ya wanna’ wash our clothes?" Daryl raised an eyebrow at your unusual wish "What kind of dream is that?"

"It’s something normal. I want normal things with you, Daryl. I don’t need something fancy or adventurous, all I want is normality with you. I am sorry that this is so boring."

"No…, ‘sounds good."

You giggled a bit "That’s good, because I think I want this boring future with you."

After everything you all went through boring sounded perfect.

"What ‘bout children?"

Daryl was afraid. He didn’t know if he was a good dad and he didn’t want to ruin a wish you had.

"I… don’t know…"

He could tell in the sound of your voice that there was something else. He shifted and looked at you "What’s da matter?"

You looked away from him into the dark night. Daryl waited for your response, not wanting to force you. He would never do this but you knew you had to tell him the truth. It wouldn’t be fair to keep this a secret.

"I can’t."

"Ya don’t have ta’ explain anythin’, darlin’."

"No, I mean I can’t…can’t get pregnant… I’ve found it out years ago and that was why my boyfriend left me before the world ended."

You were so insecure about it, you knew Daryl was different and you knew that Daryl loved you and yet, you were afraid that he would leave you for it. You weren’t afraid; you knew that Daryl would make a fantastic dad. You saw how he would handle Judith, how he fought for Carols lost daughter…

Daryl grunted next to you; he lifted an arm to put it around your shoulder. A kiss on your temple followed.

"Don’t ya dare ta’ think ‘m gonna leave ya because of that" he murmured.

"But-"

"Listen, when it comes to ya, there is no but for me."

His voice was firm, yet caring. This was enough, more than you could ask for. Daryl was a man of few words and he was able to shut down your dark thoughts right away. Daryl would stay, you knew it.

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying the warm summer night a bit more.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd scenario #twd imagine #daryl x reader #daryl imagine #darly dixon x fem!reader #daryl x fem!reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead scenario #i havent posted anything in years...literally #but i wanted to write this #and maybe a few more things #please keep in mind that english is not my first language #and writing daryls accent is a struggle for me #so i tried it lelelelee

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yelenasdiary · 8 months

Note

off topic i just had a thought of imagine yelena being a security guard/prison officer and reader is in jail for (something but they're the city's known inmate..) they get anonymous notes into their cell every night saying explicit things ;) and it turns out it's yelena cause she can't help herself..

no but the muscles and biceps yelena would have as a prison guard 😳

Dirty Little Notes

Pairing: Security Guard! Yelena x College Student! Reader

Summary: After weeks of receiving anonymous notes slipped under your door, the secret admire is finally caught red handed.

Warnings: Smut, 18+ ONLY! Men & Minors DNI! Daddy Kink, Dumbification Kink, Edging (Reader Receiving), BDSM (Gun Play), Use of Strap On, Squirting, Legal Age Gap (R 22, Y 30), Oral (Reader Receiving), Virgin/Innocent Reader, Possessive/Semi-dark & Pervy Yelena, Mentions of Masturbation, Loss of Virginity, Language Warning | 3.1K

Translations: Detka (baby), милый (darling), printsessa (princess), кукла (doll), ты такая красивая (you’re so pretty),

AC: Firstly, lets ignore my terrible edit & Secondly, Reader is maybe a little too innocent and I may or may not have gotten carried away….whoops!!

Finally, it was Friday and the only plans you had for the night were to be curled up in bed reading over your notes that you collected during the lectures you had during the day. Your best friend, Kate, teased you over your plans. Saying they were boring, and you needed to let the weekend be for relaxing, letting 'loose' and making memories. But you were more so on the organized side of things, you liked making Saturday and Sunday your days of relaxing and doing whatever you liked.

"I probably won't be back tonight" Kate spoke as she packed a few belongings into her backpack. She was going to get another frat party and would probably crash at one of her archer friends' dorms. You didn't mind at all; you study better by yourself anyways.

"Just be safe, please! Don't leave your drink unattended" you replied before taking a bite out of your oat bar. Kate groaned, "you sound like a mother, don't study too hard" She threw her bag over her shoulder and was out the door before you bothered to say another word, you just rolled your eyes and shook your head.

Little did Kate know, you did have something planned other than studying. For weeks, every Friday night a note is slipped under your door addressed to you. You've never caught who has been doing it but the explicit words on the paper had an effect on you. At first you thought they were creepy and disgusting and you would throw them away instantly but soon they became more explicit and you couldn't help yourself knowing they were turning you on.

It was when one of the notes mentioned your virginity that made you wonder who on earth the admirer was. Nobody knew that you were a virgin, not even Kate. You felt slightly embarrassed that you were still a virgin but you just never found somebody special enough to share that with.

The notes on the other hand, you began saving, you had them hidden in a show box under your bed. Only a few times have you re-read over them while your free hand was slipped into your underwear rubbing light circles around your clit as you pictured the mysterious person doing exactly what was inked on the paper. It made you feel dirty but even more so turned on and tonight, you wanted to catch the person leaving you such notes for your eyes to feast on. You set a tiny camera just outside your room and watched any action from an app on your phone, as you waited, you would read over your study notes.

A pair of black boots came to a stop at your door, the camera so and set up in the pot plant by your door, it was only able to get the legs and shoes of those passing by. Quickly and as quietly as you could, you threw your notepad to the side and almost pounced at your door. Opening it, you finally caught them in action on one knee read to slip another note under your door.

"It's been you?" you spoke in surprise as the blonde looked up at you, "y-you're a s-security guard" you added. The woman rose to her feet and smirked, "I guess you caught me" Her eyes worked their way up your body. Of course, you had a few ideas on who you thought would've been leaving you the notes, but never did it cross your mind that it would be the college's Russian security guard.

"Were you expecting somebody else, detka?" Yelena added, breaking your thoughts.

Yelena was a new security guard at the college, having roughly been working here for 4-5 months. She always smiled softly at you whenever you locked eyes with her, sometimes you noticed she followed you and Kate from a far until you both got back to your dorm, you just assumed she was just making sure you both got back safely but now you couldn't help but think that maybe she was only doing it to get close to you.

"Answer me, милый" Yelena brushed her index finger over your cheek, distracting you as she made herself welcome inside your room.

"N-no" you replied in a slight stutter as she closed the door behind her. Her eyes full of hunger as they dropped to your lips, "why d-did you write those things?" you asked. Yelena refreshed her lips, running her tongue over them.

"I couldn't help myself. You walk around this campus like a lost little puppy and all those outfits you wear? Don't even get me started on the how many times I had to stop myself from coming in her and giving you exactly what you want" the guard explained, watching how your eyes avoided hers and how you so badly wanted to trap your bottom lip between your teeth at her words.

"but" she went on, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, "then I realised, you're just an innocent little thing that needs me"

"N-needs you?" you looked at her for a brief second before letting your head slightly drop in embarrassment. Yelena lifted your chin up with her finger, looking deeply into your eyes ready to devour you in a second, "Tell me, did my little notes turn you on dekta?" she asked. Your eyes quickly shifted away from her, too embarrassed to answer. She smirked knowing you were too shy to answer her.

"Did you touch yourself to them detka?" The blonde's eyes dropped to your hands that played with the hem of your shirt with nerves before she gently cupped your chin with one hand, making you look at her once more, "answer me" she added bluntly. Your mind having a mind of its own nodded ever so gently at her question. Your actions only made the blonde want you more.

Slowly, she pressed her lips against yours making you gasp at first before melting into her lips. Her hands came down to your waist, pulling you closer into her, "do you want me to stop?" she asked quietly against your lips. As if your mind had a mind of its own, you shook your head making Yelena smirk once more before continuing to kiss you.

She wasted no time walking you backwards until the back of your legs came into contact with your bed, one of her hands wrapped around your wrist, pulling your hand to her crutch. "Do you feel that detka?" she asked with another devilish like smirk on her lips. You nodded, surprised that she was packing. "Good, because I need to get you nice a ready for my strap" she added before pushing you onto your bed, crawling on top of you to kiss your soft lips once more.

A light moan left your lips when the security guard's lips made their way to your neck. Nobody had ever kissed your neck before, let alone touched you as much as Yelena had already. Yelena stopped her actions and lent back, looking at you as she pulled her glock from its holster, "open that pretty mouth up for me, милый" she instructed as she brought the weapon to your lips. It frightened you at first but your mouth opened, obeying her words. The coldness of the glock caused you to close your eyes as the action sent a throb to your core.

"You really are just a dumb little кукла, aren't you?" Yelena asked with a chuckle as she watched you lay in front of her with her the top of her glock resting on your tongue, "suck it" she added rather bluntly. Your mind reminded you of the times when you were curious and watched a video of a woman giving a blow job to a strap on and naturally, your lips closed around the gun as you began to suck lightly, your salvia pooling from the corner of your lips.

Yelena watched as she straddled your waist, watching as you began to lose yourself in the moment, your clit throbbing with need to be touched, the wet patch on your panties only growing as you continued to swirl your tongue around the tip of the unloaded weapon. "Take this off, dekta" Yelena spoke, pulling your t-shirt up before you helped and removed the clothing, throwing it to the floor leaving you in your bra and pajama bottoms. Yelena couldn't help but lick her lips once more, "ты такая красивая" she whispered. You didn't understand Russian but you understood that hearing her talk to you in Russian only made you wetter for her.

Her lips trailed down your body while one of her free hand's removed her gun from your lips and placed it on your bedside table. You were slightly glad to have the taste of cold metal leave your lips, you watched as the blonde slowly began to remove your bottoms. Your cheeks turned red when Yelena smirked and looked up at you.

"You've ruined your panties, кукла" she said in a teasing tone, "don't tell me it's because you liked sucking on my gun" she added just to watch your cheeks darken in color. "Or is this all because of my little notes, huh?" Yelena went on. Embarrassment set in as you reached to hide your face only to be stopped by Yelena's grip on your wrist, "answer me" she added.

"P..p-please" you begged, not entirely sure what you were even begging for.

"What do you want huh? How can daddy help you if you don't tell me what you want" Yelena replied, letting go of your wrist.

"T..touch me, p-please" the words flew from your lips, your clit throbbing harder with every passing second.

"Please what?" Yelena smirked once more.

"D-daddy, please!"

"As you wish" she replied before pulling your panties off and throwing them to the floor with the rest of your clothing. She pushed your legs apart before looking up at you from between your legs. "If you cum, I stop, and I'll never touch you again. If you be a good little whore for daddy and cum when I say you can, I'll make sure you'll be sore the next two days, do you understand, or do I need to repeat myself?"

You nodded almost instantly at her words, "I understand" you replied hoping she would just dive into your pussy but of course, she didn't.

"Wrong answer!" Her jaw clenched.

"I u-understand daddy!" you corrected yourself rather quickly and with that, the security guard didn't waste another second before you felt her tongue slide through your folds making you moan at the feeling you'd never felt before. Your moans only grew with every flick of her tongue, the tip ever so slightly dipping into your pussy making you almost forget for a moment that you were a virgin. Her tongue worked wonders on your clit, kitty licks making your hole clench around nothing as you brought a hand to her head, trying to push her deeper into you.

"F-fuck!" you moaned, "feels s'good!" you added with a handful of the blonde's locks.

It didn't take Yelena long to work out your body, almost as if she had magic. She knew you were about to cum, that's when she stopped, licked her lips and began to kiss her way up your body to your lips once more. A soft moan left your lips at the sweet taste of yourself on her tongue, "why did you stop? Did I do something wrong, did I c-cum?" you asked with a light frown. Yelena's head tilted slightly to the left, her pupils widened, "have you never cum before?" she asked. You shrugged slightly, "I'm not too sure" you admit.

"Well then" Yelena bit her bottom lip as her right hand traveled down to your clit, "you're going to love it when you do" she added before rubbing light circles on your clit to tease you. Her touch made your eyes close as you moaned at the blonde teasing you. Your mind remembering some of the notes she left you, mentioning a few of the many things she so badly wanted to do you and without a second thought or control of your own words, you whimpered before whispering, "fuck me, daddy"

Yelena had you right where she wanted you, brainless and begging for her, just like she mentioned in her dirty little notes. She couldn't control the hungry smirk that tugged at her lips at your words, "yeah? You want daddy to fuck you huh?" she asked in an almost teasing tone. You nodded, "I n-need you, p-please daddy" you begged in between moans as she began to rub tighter circles around your clit, your untouched entrance clenching with hunger.

She worked your clit until your back arched and she knew you were close to cumming, she stopped instantly earning herself a groan of frustration from you as you looked at her, "p-please! I'll be good, I need you daddy!" You begged once more.

"What are you begging for huh? You're so stupid you don't even know if you've ever cum before, how do you know you need me huh?" Yelena spoke as she leant back taking in the view of your naked body in front of her. She was right, you had no idea what exactly you were begging for, you just knew you needed her.

"Like you s-said in the notes" you replied shyly, "I want that, please" you added. Yelena leant forward and kissed your lips softly before kissing your jaw line to your left ear, "I'll give you what you want but you're mine, do you understand? Nobody is allowed to touch you like I do" she whispered, sending a rush to your core, you nodded at her words. "Yours, I p-promise" you replied.

Knowing she had you the way she wanted, the way she wished every time she saw you walking from classes, she leant back and undid her pants letting her silicon cock spring for your eyes to widen at the size.

"T-that's big" you stuttered, slightly scared of how on earth it would ever fit inside of you.

"Don't worry your dumb little brain about that detka, it's only 9 inches and daddy will make sure it fits" she spoke as she used your arousal as a lube, running the trip of the toy between your folders, brushing over your clit earning herself a small moan from you. "But it'll h-hurt" you added in worry. Yelena nodded, "yes detka, it will but only for a moment then daddy will make sure you feel good again, do you trust me?" she looked up at you giving you a moment to relax before you nodded in reply.

"Daddy will take it nice slow" Yelena replied as the tip of her strap began to enter your pussy. Your fists were quickly full of your bedsheets, your eyes tightly closed shut as the burning feeling of your virginity being taken rushed through your body. Yelena was slow, only entering you inch by inch, tears pooling at your eyes but you didn't want her to stop. You felt her lips on yours once more, kissing you deeply to distract you from the pain, she whispered "you're almost there detka".

Within minutes, you were full, taking her entire toy. Yelena smiled softly at you, "you let daddy know when it's okay to move, okay?" she spoke, brushing your hair from your face while she stayed completely still inside you until you were comfortable for her to move her lips. The burning feeling faded to nothing, you refreshed your lips with your tongue and nodded while looking into her eyes, "I'm ready"

Yelena started slowly, thrusting in and out with both her hands interlocked with yours while her tongue explored in the inside of your mouth, muffling your moans as she worked you up to taking her thrusts faster.

"Feels s'good!" you moaned when she began to fuck into you harder, her hands now supporting her from crushing you while you brought your hands to her back, stretching up and down at the feeling she was giving you. "Fuck кукла, you're taking me so fucking well" Yelena praised. Your room was full of the sounds of your moans mixed with Yelena's thighs slapping against your skin as she brought you closer to your orgasm.

"D-daddy, s-stop!" you moaned, your hands trying to push her away at her thighs, "I need the toilet!" you added quickly as each thrust only made the feeling grow bigger.

"Shh, you don't need the toilet" Yelena brought her thumb to your clit making your back arch, "let it go detka, cum!" she added while you squirm to avoid breaking her only rule, don't cum unless she says. With her permission, your body let go and a flow gushed out of you when Yelena pulled out her strap, you moaned her name loudly with your back still arched and your head thrown back. She smiled proudly as she took in the view of your soaked pussy while you caught your breath.

"I'm s-sorry!" you spoke once you came down from your high, your eyes filled with worry that the security guard would be mad at you.

"Don't be sorry detka, daddy just fucked you so dumb you squirted" Yelena informed you as she rubbed her hands up and down your thighs seeing you spaced out from your intense orgasm, "What's wrong detka, did daddy fuck you stupid?" Yelena asked which a cocky smirk on her lips.

"Y-yes" you replied, closing your eyes as you soaked up the feeling of bliss that ran through your body, ignoring the slight pain you were feeling from her harsh thrusts into you.

"My dumb, perfectly little кукла" she spoke as stood up from your bed, "let daddy clean you up now" she added as she walked over to the small sink in your bathroom, given you had a suite-style dorm. She grabbed a cloth and soaked it in warm water before returning to you.

After she cleaned you up, she removed the fluffy throw blanket that was once folded neatly on the end of your bed and threw it with your removed clothes that sat on the floor. "Which drawer are your pyjamas in?" Yelena asked, too exhausted to use your words, you pointed to the third drawer of your dresser. Yelena got out one of your extra oversized t-shirts you used to sleep in and a fresh pair of panties before she helped you redress, "I wish I could stay detka, but my shift is about to start. I finished at 6am, I'll stop buy with breakfast, okay?" You heard her speak as she helped you into bed, pulling the covers over you. All you could bare to do was nod in reply before drifting off to sleep.

Yelena placed a soft kiss on your temple before leaving your dorm, making sure to lock the door from the inside of course.

#yelenasdiary asks #swaqcenix #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova smut #marvel #fanficiton #black widow #Security Guard! Yelena

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hard-core-super-star · 7 months

Text

you can see it with the lights out [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: enduring a storm and a subsequent power outage with kate bishop by your side might not be the worst thing in the world.

warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff; storm + power outage = kate bishop being an adorable dork; very light mentions of anxiety and small insecurities

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: i had so many other things to write but i really wanted to do some good old-fashioned fluff. i'm always so tempted to turn my kate fics into angst or hurt/comfort or smut so this was a nice change of pace. although you could argue this isn't just fluff but shhh. i just think golden retriever gf kate is the best kate <3 [and i would 100% cry if someone did something cute and dorky like this for me]

* * * * * * *

Storms and power outages have become synonymous with life in New York for you. Any time the sky fills with those dark clouds, you know to go stock up on candles and blankets since the power will most likely go out in your apartment.

You’re not sure if it’s a safety precaution or if the power lines around your building always end up getting damaged, you just know the routine you’ve come to adopt over the years.

A routine that’s never included Kate Bishop until now.

You’ve been dating the brunette archer for a few months and she’s somehow become the one constant in your life that you didn’t know you needed but have grown to adore.

Whether it’s randomly showing up at your apartment with a bag of takeout or staying on the phone with you until you fall asleep, Kate always does her best to be there for you and provide the support she knows you’re still too shy to ask for.

She thinks it’s cute that you still get tongue-tied around her despite how much of a dork she truly is when she’s with you. You, on the other hand, think she’s a jerk for pulling that damn smirk onto her face and making you flustered every chance she gets.

So maybe you’re a little head over heels in love with Kate and maybe she’s a little too proud of herself for that, despite the fact that neither of you have spoken your true feelings out loud yet, but the two of you make a perfect pair. A pair that’s only rivaled by power outages and your apartment building.

There had been a heavy rain warning for the past few days but it wasn’t until this morning that the sky filled up with borderline black clouds. Clouds that told you your power wouldn’t be on for much longer.

You had accepted your fate, gone on a brisk walk to the nearest grocery store, and shot your girlfriend an apologetic text about having to postpone your picnic date. The brunette had left you on seen but you didn’t think anything of it since Kate’s attention span can sometimes be shorter than Lucky’s, which is saying something.

Most of the day flies by in a blur of reading and watching your comfort show while listening to the heavy rain falling against your windows. It’s not until you hear a knock on your front door that your normal routine is interrupted.

“Kate?” Your eyes widen as you open the door and come face to face with your rain-soaked girlfriend. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I hated that we had to cancel our date so I decided to bring the date to you!” She proudly holds up a takeout bag not-so-carefully stuffed inside a light brown picnic basket. “I wanted to cook something but you can imagine how well that went.”

There’s something about the way she’s looking at you with that sparkle in her eyes and a huge smile on her face that makes you tear up a little. There’s nothing incredibly extravagant about her actions but the feelings behind every one of her choices makes your heart flutter in your chest in a way you’ve never felt before.

Kate doesn’t need any words to tell you how much she truly adores you. And it’s something you never thought you would find, much less with someone like her.

“Hey, what’s wrong, babe?” She asks, her head slightly tilted to the side.

You can’t form a single sound but your girlfriend doesn’t need your help to know what to do. She steps forward in an instant, gently dropping the picnic basket on the ground before pulling you into her embrace and kicking the door closed behind her.

The fabric of her soft purple hoodie is completely soaked but you don’t mind one bit. You just wrap your arms around her waist and let the feeling of her body against yours drown out everything else.

Including the tiny voice in the back of your mind that reminds you your apartment is a complete mess that’s probably a few minutes away from being submerged in total darkness.

Kate might be a New Yorker through and through but she’s had a different life than you. One that’s been filled with the nicest things money can buy. Such as an apartment that can actually withstand a storm.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself while your head rests against her shoulder.

“Why are you apologizing?”

You shrug but Kate doesn’t accept silence as an answer. She doesn’t rush you, though, she just trails her fingers up and down your arm in an attempt to reassure you that she’s with you.

It’s unusual for her to actually be patient for once yet she puts all her focus on waiting for you to tell her about all the worries she knows linger in the depths of your mind. She’s gotten incredibly good at reading your nonverbal cues by now.

“I don’t know,” you finally say. “I just feel like you…deserve more than this.”

She can’t back a quiet chuckle, one that comforts you in ways you can’t describe. “More than a cozy night in with my gorgeous girlfriend?”

“You know what I mean,” you whisper, leaning back a little so you can look at her again.

“Mmm, nope. I really don’t.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to argue back even though she can practically hear the words gathering on your lips. Instead, she leans in to kiss you and successfully distracts your mind from all the small insecurities that linger inside.

The lights go out right when she pulls away from your lips.

The sound of your groan is swallowed up by Kate’s laugh. The excitement you hear is more than enough to change your attitude about the current situation even if you’re a little confused about her reaction.

“What’s got you so giddy?” You question the brunette.

She doesn’t answer you immediately but you can see the telltale signs of her coming up with a, probably ridiculous, idea. Her hands leave your body as she picks up the picnic basket once again, that smirk you’ve come to love adorning her face. “Can I interest you in a romantic candlelit dinner?”

You smile despite yourself. “Only if you promise to wash the dishes afterwards.”

“Way to ruin the mood, babe.”

All you can do is laugh while she pulls you toward the kitchen, both of you stumbling around like idiots due to the darkness that consumes the apartment.

It’s not until a few hours later when the two of you are cuddled up underneath your fluffiest blankets that she gathers the courage to ask you about your earlier reaction.

Your head rests comfortably on her chest, her fingers drawing random patterns on your side, as the question leaves her lips. “Baby? What got you so emotional when you saw me at the door? Did I do something?”

Her concern serves to soothe you and make you nervous at the same time. You debate coming up with a stupid response instead of telling her the truth and laying your feelings on the line. Ultimately, you decide to take the jump, somehow knowing Kate will be right there to catch you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Katie,” you respond, loving the way she pulls you closer once the nickname leaves your lips. “You just always know what to do. How to make me feel better, how to make me feel…loved.”

You feel the way her breath catches at your words and you can already tell you’ll never grow tired of it. She’s silent for a long while but you don’t mind. Where there once was anxiety and uncertainty, now there’s only safety and love.

She shifts around after a few seconds, placing your head on the pillow instead of her chest before she turns onto her side so you’re face-to-face. The tiniest of slivers of moonlight shines through your bedroom window and offers you enough light to see the expression of pure love that covers the archer’s face.

There are no words but her eyes say it all. Even in the silence and with the lights out, you can see it.

And you’re sure there’s no better feeling than this…until she finally speaks the words out loud.

“I do love you, y/n. A lot. Like almost as much as my bow, or Lucky, or-”

You lean in to kiss her before she can keep rambling. You feel her smile against your lips as her arm goes around your waist again, pulling you impossibly closer to her warm body.

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you just said you love your dog and your bow more than me,” you tease her. “I love you too, Katie.”

A content sigh leaves her as you lean your head against her chest once again, her chin resting on top of your head while she holds you in her protective embrace. “I love you more though.”

You just smile in response, letting her have her way for now, and allow your eyes to slip shut. The storm and the blackout are the last things on your mind while you rest in your girlfriend's arms.

371 notes · View notes

the-dixon-effect · 10 months

Text

Daddy Issues

words: 1.1k

Nobody knew about your past.

Not even a bit. Your presence in Alexandria was regarded by the suburbanites as the disposition of a survivor, someone who had really been shaped by the cruel world outside the gates. Even the members of your own group, your family, didn't dare delve into the rocky landscape that was your life before the fall.

Despite the distinct mystery that followed you wherever you went, some could still sense the trauma you had ensued before. It was in the way you walked, the way you carried yourself, in your defensive impulses and your kind nature. And by 'some', this meant a certain archer who you had taken an interest in since the start.

Daryl Dixon was a man of few words, but since the beginning, you knew there had to be something else underneath his thick skin, a hidden treasure of sorts. And how right you were. You two remained by each other's side at all times, never once leaving the other in fear of losing them. If Daryl had lost you, oh God, he would have lost the one thing keeping him going, the light in his life, the oasis in the vast desert that was this harsh world. You had been so kind to him, and seeing you and your perfect smile was like medicine, and of course, he couldn't help but fall for you. He practically knew everything about you, or at least, he thought he did.

"Ya' alright?" he spoke. The two of you sat side-by-side in the front of a truck, heading out on a run. He had noticed your quietness and how it differed from your usual animated, cheerful manner. He rested both hands on the steering wheel and looked over at you. It had not been long since your father had died, out on a run, not unlike your current mission. Eaten alive by walkers, it was a terrible sight to witness for all involved, especially you, who remained silent for days after.

"I'm fine." Quite the opposite. Such a strange feeling, the man who had abused you your whole life, emotionally and physically, trapped you in the ghetto of Atlanta, and forced you to humiliate yourself to make a living, died at the hands of the new natural world? Did he get what he had coming? Did he deserve it all along? Were you supposed to be grateful, or satisfied? You always imagined that your father's death would feel like a gratifying weight lifted off your shoulders, but for some reason, you were never able to shake the trauma, the anxiety of it all. It was as if the world couldn't let you go, and you were being held hostage in your own dark memories.

Daryl might have been the most observant person you knew. You really thought you'd be able to keep the truth from him and he wouldn't know? Maybe, just maybe, it was time to let it all out. After all, if you were going to confess to anyone, it would have been him.

"I can tell you're not, ya know," he drawled.

"You remember my dad, right?" you spoke, softly and quietly. Even with his eyes fixed on the road, Daryl could sense that you were frowning.

"Ya, I remember tha' prick. Shoulda knocked him out while I had the chance." He also remembered your strong feelings against him, and how he had made a scene in the prison once by ordering you around with a less-than-polite tone. Daryl had obviously stepped in to defend you, which practically began your friendship. You thought of this often, and couldn't help but see Daryl as your protector from then on.

"Well, it's just that- I don't know, it's stupid," you began. "Can't stop thinking 'bout him. The way he died. It just- It seems wrong."

"Shit. I'm sorry, I shouldn't 've said-"

"No, it's okay. He was a horrible man." He was indeed, and though everybody shared your feelings about your father while he was with your old group, not one of them was aware of what he had done to you before the fall.

"There's- there's things I haven't told you. About him, and, about me." Daryl furrowed his brows. Of course he knew there must have been something deeper within your relationship with the man, but he never expected himself to be one whom you would share it with.

"It's alrigh'," he drawled. "Take your time."

"He hit me. All the time. Whenever he was mad or depressed or drunk, or even happy." The words came so easily, and you had underestimated how good it would feel to release some of this pressure build-up, especially to Daryl. Still, you couldn't help but let your eyes glass over as the memories came flooding back. You weren't sure, but despite the horrific things you had endured, it felt right to let it out for once.

He simply stared at you, and even with his brown hair falling over his eyes you could tell he was in shock. How could someone do something like that to you, the most beautiful person, in all ways, that he'd ever met?

"I'm- I'm so sorry Y/N. I never knew 'bout any of it," Daryl was at a loss for words.

"You wanted to know what I did before the world went to shit?" you paused for a moment, understanding that right now, you could not take any of this back.

"I was a- I was-" tears began to stain your cheeks. "I had to- I was a hooker." Silence.

Shit. How could he maintain a friendship with you after that? You were in total disbelief at your confession. Things will never go back to the way they were, you thought.

You sat there, shaking in your seat, forgetting where you were and paying no attention to your surroundings.

It was true, every part of it. You had been a hooker living in the hood of Atlanta before the fall, and you hated it. Every part of it. But there was no escape from the ghetto, and the route you had chosen to survive was safer and steadier than a life of crime. Still, every day you dreamt of a man who could take care of you, love you for your mind and soul, somebody to treat you right. Had you been shaped by the apocalypse, or had you always been like this?

"It's okay. I'm gon' take care of you. Ya don't have to worry 'bout anythin'." Daryl's soft words came like the arrival of the man you had always imagined late at night. You didn't need a man, of course you didn't. But Daryl, maybe you needed him.

#brandy writes #angst #twd angst #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader

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cultofdixon · 1 year

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I will follow you into the dark

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • It’s the end of the world. It’s hard to keep up with old routines, especially when one involved a daily medicine. Skipping a day isn’t that bad, two can be pushing it, but inevitably running out…you’re screwed. You last this long with rationing but the world is starting to look grey again. Until your sunshine returns…in him • ANGST/SFW • TW: Depression

Requested by: @sweetnightmares333

“Y/N” Daryl calls out for her attention as Y/N was currently knees deep in the gardens of the prison she and Rick have started. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Her face lit up when he asked such feeling the warmth in his chest as he couldn’t help the twitch of a smile gracing his lips for a second.

“You’re really gonna take my gardenin’ buddy?” Rick jokes setting down a bucket right beside Y/N as she takes the mulch collected not that long ago and started to put it on their garden before standing. “You owe me tomorrow”

“You know I’ll be here” Y/N smiles taking her gloves off and tossing them into the bucket before following Daryl to his bike.

The Grimes helped open the gate for Daryl to ride right through with no issue as Y/N held on tight for the ride.

This was their routine in a sense. Daryl would take care of his chores or whatever is asked of him in the morning, while Y/N took care of the gardens. Then they would go on a ride just the two of them. Then when they get back, Y/N takes over for Beth watching Judith so she could handle a few things and Daryl would tweak his bike and fix any vehicle the previous group took out on the run. And by night, they were rejoin in their cell. You can imagine what else they do during their open windows.

Daryl found a new spot for them to relax at and instantly took Y/N there. Even if her favorite things about the rides were him and watching the scenery go by.

“What’s goin’ on in that beautiful mind of yours?” Daryl asks his partner who was more focused on the beautiful view he provided for her just from exploring on a few hunts back.

Y/N ignored his question at first to watch the birds fly by like they have no idea what’s happening around the rest of the world. Daryl taps the top of her hand resulting in her smiling and finally addressing him.

“Just admiring the moment, my love” She smiles watching him blush to one of the smaller things she calls him. “Besides always thinking about you…again, just admiring the now”

The archer intertwines his fingers with hers watching her shift a bit enough for him to instinctively bring his arm around her shoulders. Enjoying the moment with her.

Once it was curfew and everyone was settling in for the night, Daryl left to take his night shift in the watchtower but not before kissing Y/N goodnight. She watches him leave their shared cell after picking up his crossbow on the way out. Y/N gave it a few more second before leaning over the bunk to reach for a box underneath and opening it revealing trinkets Daryl would bring back from runs that would remind her but she hid something in there.

A pill bottle.

Y/N opened the cap to find only three pills left, it will be two after she takes one. She’s rationed her whole bottle given there are no longer pharmacists to refill her prescription. But it’ll be fine. She’s lasted this long. Maybe it won’t be too bad when it gets to her.

It was the next morning and Y/N missed breakfast. Carol gave Daryl her breakfast to take to her cell where she was sleeping. She decided to sleep in that morning and no one held her against it, just that she would join Rick in the gardens later and their ride later would be shorter. Daryl sat on the edge of the bed watching her stir a bit moving onto her back and giving the archer a smile.

“Missed breakfast”

“Mm…but you brought it to bed for me”

“Didn’t want yea to miss a meal” He gave her smile setting the plate on the makeshift nightstand that was an old milk crate. “But I’m thinking…five more minutes?”

“Hm. If those five minutes mean more than sleeping…I can get down with this” Y/N smiles wrapping her arms around Daryl’s neck when he leaned into her pressing his lips against hers.

Rick watches Y/N finally step out of the prison in overalls that Daryl found her on a run as she thought it’d be fitting for farming. He was more so looking at the sadden expression on her face when she draws closer right until she locked eyes with him. Bringing that signature smile of hers back.

“Hey. Finally” He scoffs playfully seeing her roll her eyes in response. “Slow morning?”

“Uh yeah. I guess” Y/N shrugs picking up her gloves seeing him work on getting a pig pen up. “Doubt Daryl would let wild pigs live long enough for you to cage them in”

“That’s why I have you to convince him” The retired sheriff shot her a smile of his very own as he held up one of the panels for the pen’s wall. “Mind?”

“Not at all” Y/N rolled up her sleeves and replaced him in holding it up so he could nail in the conjoining wall.

“HEY YO DOLLFACE” One of the Woodbury folk going on the run that Glenn was leading called out directly to Y/N as she turns to the voice confused. “Mind opening the gate for us?”

“Uh. ONE SEC” She yells back waiting for Rick to finish as he could also help her with the other door.

The guy that called out to her stopped his car that held a now annoyed Glenn just to roll his window down leaning halfway out to Y/N.

“Hey sweet cheeks. Think when we get back that uh…I can take you out?”

“Well you see…whatever your name is—-“

“Avery”

“Avery. My boyfriend who currently has his crossbow aimed for your head from the watchtower” Her words made his eyes look up to the watchtower seeing exactly what she said. “Wouldn’t be too happy about that. Now get the fuck out of here before you let the dead in”

“Right. Right!” Avery nervously scrambles back into the truck with a now laughing Glenn beside him as they left.

Daryl scoffs lowering his weapon as he quickly looks at his partner seeing her annoyance toward the stranger stay for a moment on her face before drooping. That shot him right through the heart.

“Hey!”

Y/N looks up to Daryl giving him a small smile.

“Wanna stay in tonight?” He yells watching her body relax and her smile grow a little.

“You okay with that?” She yells back watching him nod.

“As long as I get to spend my time with yea. I don’t care where we’re at” Daryl states smiling when she blew him a kiss before returning to help Rick with the pig pen.

After another long day outside, Y/N found herself washing it all away in the showers. She told Daryl she was and to wait for her outside once it got dark enough to watch the stars. She just wanted to get out of the clothes she was in from farming and wash it off…the water was cold and the room only had her in it currently so it was okay to let it out.

The tears burned her face as if she’s been holding it in all day. Y/N wasn’t a very vocal crier and that made it easier to do it in private and not have people check in on her.

How do you even explain…that you don’t know why you feel this way?

Daryl felt her soft hands run through his hair indicating Y/N finally came out after a much needed shower. He smiles happily watching her move around him and stand before him waiting for the archer to open his legs so she could sit in between them. Pressing her back flush against his chest feeling his arms wrap around her securely making her current thoughts wash away.

“You alright, sunshine?”

“Mhm. I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah, when I’m with yea” Daryl kisses her temple feeling her relax in his embrace.

Once her prescription was all gone, Y/N had an even harder time trying to keep her smile present on her face when she ran into her friends, especially her partner. Even if most the time she would rather stay in bed a little longer or skip meals to avoid being around people that would always have something to talk about with her.

A cold morning finally graced the prison and Daryl expected to be awake before Y/N but when he opened his eyes. She wasn’t in the bed with him and that drove his anxiety a bit. But right as he shot up in the bed is when he heard someone shushing him. The archer turned to his best friend at the entrance of his cell as Carol gestures him to come with her.

“I think it’s going to rain” Carol kept her voice low as Daryl looked at her confused.

“So? Everyone should be inside”

“Mm. I thought that when I went on the early perimeter check” Carol opens the door outside holding it open for him and that’s when he spotted the familiar form in the middle of the field. “But she’s been there since I first came out”

“Yea didn’t talk to her?”

“I just suspected she needed a moment alone. I’m only telling you that in case it does rain, you go get her”

The archer stayed by the tables in the quad behind the prison yards keeping his distance but still having his eye on his girl in case she needed him. But all she did was sit in the grass…listening to the wind…the sounds surrounding her…and her heart beat when she rest her hand on her chest. Reminding herself mentally that she is okay.

Breathing.

Living.

Everything.

Daryl straightens up watching Y/N stand up but he also had to look like he was busy doing something instead of watching her like some creep. He took his knife out and went into his jacket pocket to find the sharpening block he thought he lost a week ago. But it was perfect to make it look like he was sharpening his knife instead of watching Y/N do her thing.

“Hey baby”

“Hey” Daryl looks up from the block, smiling when Y/N kisses his forehead before joining him on his side of the picnic table. “You weren’t in bed when I woke up”

“Sorry, wanted to watch the sunrise and got lost in my train of thought” Y/N rests her cheek against his shoulder. “Did breakfast get started?”

“Nah, Carol thinks it’s gonna rain. Might make it inside”

She hums to his words bringing herself close to him enjoying his warmth as Daryl stops sharpening his knife resting his head on top of hers for a moment.

When the two went back inside that’s when Rick asked both of them to help hand out blankets to the families with small children before giving it out to the adults. The prison didn’t have heating so the blankets and Tyreese getting a fire started in a makeshift fire pit in an empty can was going to help for now.

“Hey Y/N can you do me a quick favor?” Beth gave her her puppy dog eyes instantly as Y/N nods with a small smile. “Zach just asked me to hang out with him today since the council agreed for it to be a down day”

“Okay?”

“But I promised the kids I’d read to them, can you do that for me?” She begs with a following ensemble of pleases.

Y/N couldn’t say no to her or anybody and once again only nodded and smiled.

“Thank you thank you!” Beth squeals hugging her quickly before parting and heading toward Zach’s cellblock.

Her body slouched with the realization of having to read to kids when her mind wasn’t really up for it. Daryl watches her once again while handing the last blanket to Maggie and Glenn as the two noticed his expression went from neutral to worry.

“Somethin’ on your mind Daryl?”

“Huh? Oh. Nah” Daryl tried to brush it off but neither of them were having it.

“You can talk it out man. It’s better to work the problem if there is one” Glenn states wrapping the blanket around his wife’s shoulders when the archer pulled an empty chair over to them.

“I think something’s up with Y/N”

“What do you mean?” Maggie instantly frowns as she started to worry and her sadness was always noticed by her father who had to join the conversation.

“This about Y/N?”

Daryl isn’t a whisperer. “Yeah. Have you seen her act odd lately?”

“Mm. Not really, no.” Hershel was given Daryl’s seat once he made his way over. “She’s always in a good mood when I talk to her. Even when she needed stitches that one time closing the hole in the fence”

“That cut was pretty gnarly. But that was weeks ago, when the governor was still a problem. Hell speaking of that. She was very optimistic about that whole problem” Glenn adds as a shiver went down his spine thinking about that time in Woodbury.

“Y’all ever think it’s cuz we finally got somewhere safe that it’s alright to fall apart?”

Of course it’s Rick to point out an obvious thing at the last second. Then again, he’s the only other person always around Y/N because they were working on the garden and before that they were getting a water system in that was envisioned by T-Dog.

“Explain” Daryl now back to his neutral but stern expression waiting for his brother to explain.

“Not saying she puts up a front like regular people, since she is a human ray of sunshine 99.9% of the time…but people have their off days. Where everything is fine but they aren’t.” Rick leaned up against the wall close to their small huddle. “Could be depressed”

“Hm” Hershel thought of something.

“What, daddy?” Maggie continued to have her frown plastered as she really hated to think that her friend was silently struggling.

“When the Woodbury folk first moved in, Y/N helped me organize the medicine we got from their community with ours. She was reading the labels to me and my OCD likes to have it alphabetized. But she’d linger over a few and read more into it…maybe she was lookin’ for anti-depressants.”

“Did see her taking something all the time when we were back in our quarry days. Maybe it was”

She never told me about that Daryl frowns now thinking the spiel about how sometimes people don’t tell others about what they are on because they don’t want to be seen as weak. Which only made him feel bad when he did have those thoughts that she looked weaker one day compared to a previous one.

“Daryl, if yea didn’t know, you know why right?” And like always Maggie knew what he was thinking in that moment and all he did was nod in agreement to her small question. “I know Beth asked a favor from her. Y/N is willing to do anything when feelin’ anything…but when she’s done. Just be there for her and take it at her speed”

And he did exactly that. By starting with leaving the small huddle to go listen in on story time until it was done so that he could be with his girl. The small huddle agreed to not bring up the realization unless Y/N wanted to. Or if something were to go in that direction. Just to be more appreciative for when she does things on days she doesn’t feel well enough to do so.

Right as Daryl entered the room that the council decided to make the library, he watches Y/N read the last book from the pile that the kids had set out for her to read to them. Her smile was ghostly there but her eyes still held that shine to them when she had that joy of hers inside.

“The End” Y/N smiles closing the last book. “Now you guys go back to your guardians…there should be warmth waiting for you” she continues to hold a smile watching the kids flood out and Daryl step out of their way. She rises to her feet from the chair approaching Carl. “And you can stop keeping an eye on me, but thank you” even Carl suspected something was up and kept an eye on Y/N for Daryl and their family without any of them knowing. She of course hugged him on his way out before Daryl stepped in. “Hey…”

“Hey…wanna go lie down? Cellblock should be all to ourselves for a little while” Daryl slowly approaches her watching her eyes question if there was an ulterior motive to his statement but he shook his head. “Let’s go back to our cell…and just let me hold yea”

His words were always so soothing to him and she couldn’t help but fall apart in her silent way before him. The tears came suddenly and she didn’t say a peep, all she did was bring herself even closer…enough for him to wrap his arms around her protectively. Providing her the security she needed in that moment letting her silently sob into his chest, releasing the weight from her heart and her mind.

The two eventually moved to their cell and Y/N curled up into Daryl sniffling a bit, feeling his thumb gently wipe away the tears that fell every now and then as his other hand played with her hair. He left kisses to the crown of her head or her forehead every now and then listening to her breath.

Simply just being…

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 5 months

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Ashes Burn: chapter one

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, gore, blood

🔷Summary: Your hometown will soon fall, and you become noticed by the one-eyed Kinslayer who lays siege to it.

🔷Author's note: Dark!Aemond is not something i throw around lightly. It is not something i take lightly as a warning. Just so you know.

🔷Wordcount :7036 (THAT CANT BE RIGHT THATS HUGE)

Warnings below the cut but mind your step!

🔷Warnings: Gore, AABFR, She/her pronouns, murder, warcrimes, mentions of non-con but no descriptions of it, Dubcon (aemondxoc) and overall a very very dark Aemond. Childabuse? (A child gets slapped)

All but ash

The skies have blackened with smoke in the distance. Fires keep the courtyard warm where multiple children and women shelter for the upcoming battle. They hope for a victory. They hope for a happy ending.

You stand on your balcony and overlook the city you were conceived in, born in, and perhaps even will die in: DolkBurg. A small city, almost a village, but not quite, located in the Riverlands.

Your family, the Dawreyn, have been ruling this seat until the beginning of the Seven Kingdoms; perhaps even before that, according to some ancient texts. Yet you are not a full Dawreyn. You are a bastard. Your father is Samwell Dawreyn, but your mother? You wouldn't know.

From the distance, you notice horses riding up to the city gates. That is when you stop watching. You close the door of your balcony and head downstairs.

When you pass halls, men and women alike are preparing for the battle. Servants carry food, supplies, and weapons around in quick passed steps. You see your father and your brother adjusting their armours before going to meet the Greens head-on. And you see Lady Fyona Dawnreyn, who clutches her youngest child, your brother Maas, on her lap. Her eyes are big and full of worry, and she mumbles prayer after prayer.

You ignore her for now, as she would ignore you as usual. ‘’Where are Annalysa and Diandra?’’ You ask your father, Lord Samwell Dawreyn. His heir, your half-brother Karst, is busy sharpening his sword, preparing for battle by slashing down imaginary enemies. You hope the battle ends as good as he imagines it. You doubt it, however. Karst has never seen a real battle. None of you have. Perhaps your father did. But he is old and weak. You would be a fool to deny it.

Your father speaks in an annoyed, snappy tone that betrays that you have outstayed your welcome in his presence already for today. ‘’Annalysa is in her rooms. Diandra is busy preparing her crossbow.’’ He does not even glance at you.

And that kills you faster than any arrow or sword ever would. Diandra has always been very spirited. ‘’Don't tell me she is stupid enough to fight.’’ You huff. Diandra thinks she is the greatest archer who ever lived, but how much damage can one 12 years old do?

Your father turns on his heel, glaring at you. ‘’I'm glad that one of my daughters is doing something useful. Instead of sending good suitors screaming for the hills.’’ You absently touch your scar by your face before glaring at him.

He leans in closer. ‘’We will soon discuss the matter of your future, Y/N. I will no longer have you under my roof. Not when bastards are hunted.’’ You know what he is referring to.

King Aegon II has decided that all bastards holding titles and lands must turn it over to the Crown. You have never heard of a more foolish rule, but you understand why he did so. His nephews are bastards. The rightful queen might be pure of blood, but her children are not.

You would be a risk for your family to keep. You would endanger the life of your siblings. You would endanger everyone here. You would rather stay, but not at the costs of their lives.

Your father leaves the hall with Karst, and you watch the two of them walk outside, to where their horses await them. Karst climbs on the saddle before waving to you, following your shared father.

Diandra, out of breath, chases after them with her bow. ‘’Wait! I can fight!’’ She shouts into the dust and the shadows they leave behind.

You feel sympathy for your youngest sister. You gently lay a hand on her shoulder. ‘’They're men, Di. This war started because they were too shortsighted to see what we women are truly capable of.’’

Di drops her bow defeated. She was born eight years ago. You two are different in so many ways. ‘’I just wish I wasn't a woman. I wish I could…’’She looks wistfully to where the smoke clouds have gotten worse and is gathered above the hills surrounding the city. Even if she was born a man, she would not be able to fight for several years to come.

You take one of her hands and try to drag her away from the gates and back to the safety of your home. ‘’We need to prepare the castle.’’ You tell her with a smile. ‘’It's a great honor and duty to prepare the castle when battle is afoot. We must -’’

A horse lets himself be known. A familiar horse. The majestic creature almost walks right to Diandra, who greets her horse with a pat on his neck. Balyrion, her loyal horse, lowers his head in greeting.

Diandra grabs her bow, walking her horse to the stables where it escaped from...

You turn your back, but keep watching her. In the moments that you do, you see your sister climb on her horse and dash off into the city, to where the warzone becomes closer and closer to the place you call home.

You let out a shriek before grabbing your own horse from the stables, chasing after her in madness and desperation. ‘’Diandra! Come back here!’’ You shout, following the little girl as you avoid villagers and smallfolk alike.

You follow her through the village where the soldiers are holding up near the gates of the city. Two or three laugh when you two approach in your dresses and another scoffs, but you ignore them all.

Diandra has taken position by a crack of the gates. She has leveled her arrows through the hole, ready to impale her target from her horse.

She is aiming.

She is waiting.

You see a man approach the gates. He has dark hair, and you see a terrifying large creature behind him that eclipse the sun. A dragon is waiting back on the hills.

You heard rumors that she is the biggest dragon alive but rumors and seeing her with your own eyes are two different things. ‘’Let's see how easy you can bother villages without your eyes…’’ Diandra mutters, and you see her switch her bow to the man that approaches your town.

You have a split second to act.

So you do.

You tackle her to the ground, slamming the bow out of her hands and throwing your body on hers to protect her.

‘’No!’’ Diandra groans as the arrow misses him by a mere inch. The arrows land in the grass right beside his left feet. The man pauses and takes the arrow from the ground, as if he picks a flower.

He takes out a horn and blows it.

One time.

Two times.

Three times.

You feel an uneasy feeling grow as the little dots in the distance become bigger and bigger, and the army approaches your city.

‘’Are you mad?! He was going to offer us mercy!’’ You shout at Diandra.

She spits in your face before taking her bow back. ‘’There is no mercy from killers. You always were meant to be slave but I sure am not!’’ She shouts.

You don't even give her time to rethink her actions before you hit her across her face. She doubles over and clutches her face furious. She tries to attack you, but you simply step aside, letting her stumble. ‘’You're an idiot. That man came to offer terms. We will all die now!’’ You scream at her.

Two soldiers are needed to keep you both from hurting each other. Your father approaches as his soldiers hold you both apart, clearly disappointed.

‘’Diandra. What are you doing here?’’ You huff a bit. Of course he only cares for her wellbeing.

She has stupid hopeful eyes that fill you with pity. A stupid hopeful girl that never learns that men would never see her as an equal. ‘’I can fight, Father.’’ She speaks, easily freeing herself. She looks at him with big, hopeful eyes. ‘’I almost killed the man! I can fight. Let me fight.’’ She begs.

Your father scoffs, insulted and hurt that you both ruined this mission. This final chance at peace. ‘’You're a woman. Go home. You embarrassed me enough for one day.’’ You feel angry. Isn't he even a tiny bit proud?

You both get onto your horses as the army with the dragon banners reaches the final gate. Within a few mere moments, they have broken through the walls and gates. You watch as Diandra silently cries, tears of rage and broken dreams leaving her eyes… Until you follow her gaze to the open gate.

Diandra understands this is her chance.

And her moment.

Instead of running home, instead of retreating, the girl of 12 summers old, your sister, runs through the open gates into the battlefield.

She takes her crossbow and aims it, but before she can even kill one soldier, she is surrounded. You overhear what she is saying to the soldiers. You show your empty hands to the men who try to stop you. ‘’Please. That's my sister. Show me your honour, and let me try to save her.’’ You beg.

You fear they will kill you on the spot but the man that Diandra tried to kill, the man with the kind brown almost dark and certainly Dornish eyes speaks for you, protecting you. ‘’Very well. We will push the attack, so don't expect to return.’’ He warns you.

You don't listen to him and run past soldiers on foot and horse alike, past slayed soldiers and those who are still moaning in pain to where your sister is surrounded.

You hope you are not too late.

You hope your mission is not in vain. You approach your sister and overhear her insulting the soldiers that keep their weapons aimed at her. ‘’Who leads you, you disgusting pigs? Take me to him!’’ She demands as if this is her army.

You will kill that girl if she gets out of here alive. What is she even thinking? ‘’Diandra!’’ You shout, and she blushes as a little girl being scolded by her mother. A few soldiers turn their heads to you, surprised by your entrance.

The commander escorts you to her. ‘’Pigs, huh?’’ He says dryly. ‘’And who are you, little lady?’’ You thought you knew, but you aren't sure anymore. Who is your sister?

Diandra ignores him.

‘’Well? Are you deaf? Who commands you? I wish to speak to him. Now!’’ She shouts, causing one soldier to even flince. The commander sighs deeply before nodding to a man who approaches.

The fighting for the walls continues. The army of the Greens outmatches the army of Dolkburg greatly. You can even see the outcome for this point of the war. It won't even take a day. Perhaps three hours, that is if you are all lucky.

From the corner of your eye, you take in an all black dressed character with long silver hair, wielding an impressive long silver sword. A Targaryen. You almost instantly back away from him, stepping on the toes of the commander. ‘’Pardon me, Ser.’’ You mutter, but he didn't even feel your feet. His iron shoes protected him. The commander bows his head in respect for the Targaryen.

The Targaryen in question is a terrifying creature that looks as if he came walking straight out of a historic book about the first conquest of Westeros. You become aware of your increased heartbeat, and you avoid drawing attention to yourself.

You heard rumours.

You all had.

There are three green Targaryens with dragons. One is the king. He is a modest threat if he comes. One is the last born prince, he too would be a modest threat. But the second one, he is the deadliest with the biggest dragon of them all. He is known as the Kinslayer or one-eye.

And unfortunately for you, and your beautiful hometown, your family's lives and the lives of your friends and everything else that matters to you, that you hold so dear, this man is clearly covering up a missing eye with a black eyepatch.

The one-eyed Targaryen grins at your sister. ‘’I am right here, little lady.’’ He speaks full of mockery in a deep raw voice that sends chills down your spine. There is no humanity or kindness in his eyes. Only bloodlust. Madness. Insanity and rage. You know that all attempts at peace are lost.

Diandra seems taken back for a moment. Perhaps she is even truly afraid for a moment. But Diandra has never learned to live on her knees. She would rather die standing than live on her knees. She looks the prince up and down slowly, as if he’s a cow on the market. ‘’You're even uglier up close.’’ She says, shocking a few soldiers and even the commander.

The prince glares at her.

‘’I am flattered.’’ He speaks, not giving a damn. But his curiosity gets the better of him anyway. ‘’Who are you, and why do you wish to die so badly?’’ He speaks, taking out his sword.

Your sister lifts her chin. ‘’I am Diandra of house Dawreyn. You're attacking my home. It's you who is going to die.’’ You close your eyes quietly, praying. If he wasn't planning on killing her...

He sure is now.

The prince laughs in her face as some of the surrounding soldiers join in.

‘’Am I now? O, my. How unfortunate.’’ He speaks, eying his men with amusement in his remaining good eye. His men chuckle or laugh. Then that laugh vanishes, leaving behind a beast. He suddenly jumps forward, causing Diandra to stumble backwards. He grits his teeth at her. ‘’I have a dragon, you foolish cunt. Perhaps I'll keep you alive as entertainment for my men. You are too young to have sex with, but we can cut you up or make you a target practice. I do warn you: I can’t see very well..’’ He warns Diandra with those words.

You must interfere. ‘’That would be foolish. My sister speaks-’’Before you can finish talking, Diandra pushes you roughly aside, walking up to Aemond before taking out a small sword.

She exhales before speaking. So loudly that everyone can hear her. ‘’I challenge you to a duel.’’ She says, her voice unshaken, her eyes burning with hatred. ‘’That is, if you are man enough to face me.’’

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You hear cold laughter of the men. ‘’No! Diandra, no.’’ You tell her strictly. ‘’Diandra stop being foolish-’’ Diandra coldly turns around to face you.

The prince snickers as well, amused by this development and very eager to spill blood. ‘’'You? You want to duel me?’’ The prince wonders outloud. ‘’You have more balls than the other men, I give you that. But I can't hurt a little peasant girl as yourself.’’

Diandra spits at the genuinely disgusting few men. ‘’Yes. I will take your other eye and send it to your brother.’’ She groans, insulted and impatient. You don’t think she is even scared. That is not a concept she’s familiar with.

The prince sighs almost as if he's bored with the entire idea of fighting your sister. ‘’O, I'm not going to do that. That wouldn't be fun for me.’’ You suppose that is true. It would be boring and a very short duel. One-sided too.

Diandra is let go of by the command of the prince. She charges at him with her sword. ‘’Do it! Do it, you coward!’’ She shouts as the guards restrain her once more.

The prince continues his dramatics for quite a while, moaning about his boredom when behind him, near the gates your people are slaughtered as pigs. ‘’I was told there was going to be a battle, yet here I am with two annoying hostages. The one a mute, the other a talkative dumb child.’’ He murmurs as Diandra screams and kicks her attackers. You are frozen and can't move a single finger.

Another person rides into the battlefield. Karst. You see he is covered in blood and has fought his way to the frontlines.He rides up to the prince and glares at him. ‘’I assume you are the Kinslayer?’’ He spats. You are glad and fearful your brother is here.

The prince's good eye narrows. ‘’I am named Aemond.’’ And just like that, the demon has a name.

Karst nods. ‘’Aemond. Good. I'm Karst of house Dawreyn. My father demands the return of my sister, Diandra.’’ Your eyes roll, but you carefully compose your face. Of course he only cares about Diandra. ‘’Release both her and her septa and we can discuss the terms of your surrender.’’ You know that Karst only protects you by lying about who you are. Bastards aren't safe under Aegon's rule. But to call you a septa? That is a lie that even a one-eyed man will easily see through.

For a moment it's silent.

Birds chirp in the distance.

Clouds roll by.

Screams are the only thing you hear.

Screams and prayers.

Until that moment passes and the laughter, that stomach twisting laughter returns. It sends shivers down your spine, and if hell had a sound, that would be it.

It would be funny. Perhaps if the roles were reversed, you would laugh too. ‘’My surrender? I see stupidity runs in the family.’’ The prince comments. Perhaps it does.

Karst does not even blink. ‘’If you won't face a woman, surely you will face a man. Or are you a craven?’’ He grins at Aemond, taunting him by taking out his sword. ‘’I heard you are one of the youngest dragon riders out of your family.’’ You never heard that story.

The prince smirks, barely hiding his pride.

‘’You heard correct.’’

Your brother comes even closer. ‘’Yet, I heard your sister, the Queen Rhaenyra was even younger.’’ You bite your lips to avoid laughing at Aemond’s enraged face. Not only did Karst remind him of a old wound, but also made clear who your family is loyal to in the same breath, when pretending to praise the Prince’s ego. Karst cleans some blood of his sword, blood you know that belongs to Aemond’s men. ‘’Do us both a favor, and duel me so we can stop this unnecessary bloodshed.’’ He speaks, as a true leader of this town.

To that the prince nods. ‘’Very well.’’ He speaks. To his men he nods. They grab you and your sister before cleaning a large space for the duel.

Karst speaks with the words of a true hero. ‘’Whoever wins this duel, takes Dolkburg.’’ He says, making a very big gamble. A too big a gamble, perhaps. But Karst is a good fighter. He is skilled. Efficient. He is enough. He needs to be enough.

He continues as the prince remains silent. ‘’Three steps. Agreed?’’ So they will take three steps back before attacking.

The prince shrugs again that bored tone of his coming out. ‘’Tis fine with me.’’ He speaks.

Karst counts out loud as he takes steps away from the prince. You watch anxiously. You focus on Karst's metal boots. You see one step. And a second one.

But before he can place his feet down for the thirth, his feet stop moving, and you watch him collapse for your own eyes.

The prince stands behind him with his sword drawn where blood still drips from. ‘’And that would be three.’’ He grins at your brother. Aemond is speaking to a corpse.

Grief is a funny thing. You, for one, are horrified and frozen and clutch your throat to silence the cries that come out. When Diandra, screams at Aemond before her small legs pick up the pace and approach him quickly. Aemond simply turns, his sword in his dominant hand and waits with a grin for her to approach. Before he can chop her head off, the Dornish commander picks Diandra up by her hips. ‘’Let me go! I shall have my revenge!’’ Diandra screams, when kicking him. You are the commander very thankful. ‘’You are a monster!” She shouts at Aemond. He was staring at the corpses of his men and although you can’t quite tell what is going on inside his head, you can see he did not appreciate that comment.

‘’Diandra, shut up.’’ You beg her as the prince is reminded of you both. He already finds her annoying. He already is tested and challenged by her.

He sees you. Perhaps he did before. But now he acknowledges your existence. You shelter your sister, aware he will kill you both.

Aemond looks at the corpse of your brother. He smirks at your trembling legs and the way you cling tightly to your sister. ‘’My. You're a pretty one.’’ He speaks, surprising you. He takes in your simple gown approvingly, treating it as a seductive cloth made of silk.

It's a compliment. You aren't used to men flirting with you. You aren't used to any of this.

‘’I am not.’’ You say instead, shielding your sister by tightly holding her against your chest.

The prince chuckles, staring a little too long at your lips.

‘’I quite disagree.’’ He murmurs to himself. He steps closer to you and you can smell a permanent almost stench of rotten meat and dead bodies as he comes closer. ‘’I have never known a septa to dress in such a way. And I have met a lot.’’ He says.

You can’t imagine where a man like him met a septa.

‘’I have recently converted.’’ You hope he buys the lie. ‘’I chased her the moment I heard her ladyship was gone.’’ You tell the prince, nodding to your sister.

He does not seem to care about Diandra's noble lineage. And that scares you. He must care, if he is to keep her alive. Diandra will be a difficult young, useless hostage that insulted him countless times already. He must see her value. ‘’That's Diandra of house Dawreyn. She is worth a lot if you were to ransom her.’’ A ransom would mean he can't hurt her. Not too badly. And you know your father too well. He would pay soon and get Diandra back, ensuring her safety once more.

For a moment, a brief moment, it seems likely that Diandra will protest. Perhaps even call you a traitor. She is close to ruining it all. But instead, she likely understands that you know the best way to save you both.

The prince takes in Diandra's glares and silk riding gown. He sighs as if he has to admit to himself that you indeed tell the truth. You are thankful for the simple beige gown you picked out today. A simple gown without any stitches or designs or patterns who won't give away that you are a Dawreyn as well. He speaks, wettening his lips with his tongue. ‘’A woman of great schemes and great beauty. You are interesting.’’ There it is again. That gentle soft tone when he speaks to you. Yet it feels like a fox trying to lure a bunny out of its den. You know it's nothing more but a facade.

Yet you try to negotiate with him. You try to get on his good side. A tiny bit as much as your heart allows. ‘’I know she made a fool of you, and I know we insulted you both. Yet I beg you to let her be. She is still a child.’’ You hope he likes the dramatic touch of your begging. He seems to like dramatics.

Instead of giving you his word as a gentleman, he stares off into the distance of your hometown. You become uncomfortable and turn your gaze away from him. ‘’Are you betrothed?’’ He asks as his men are busy fending off soldiers that try to keep coming to you and Diandra.

‘’No.’’ You respond as you watch a single soldier be beheaded brutally. He survives the first attempt, and the blood splashes down his armor, and you can hear his screams before he bleeds out. The agreement remains. He won. Dolkburg is his. ‘’M-my prince, you can stop the fighting. We’ll let Lord Samwell know that you and Karst made an agreement-’’

His lips curl into a smirk as he briefly looks up from the moaning and screaming soldiers that beg for death and mercy. ‘’I have no intention to stop this battle.’’ He sounds almost happy. Glad, delighted and peppy. Not how you would expect.

You don’t understand. Why waste good men and resources on a fight already won? Why kill innocents? ‘’But..why ever not? You are clearly on the winning side. What good will it do?’’ You sound like a little foolish girl.

He grins, amused. ‘’You’re a woman, so I don’t expect your innocent and pure mind to understand the way I think. These men are traitors. They defied my brother and his reign. They will answer for their crimes with fire and blood.’’ You need to stop this. Now. You watch his sword, where the blood of your brother still drips down. This is insanity. ‘’Most men didn’t deny Aegon. You know this! Most men simply follow their lord. They don’t choose to die-’’ they don't even choose to follow their lord.

You might see it that way. But he does not. ‘’They made a choice. And they choose wrong. If you like, you can give them proper burial after since you are a septa.’’ You nod, unsure as to how you would even do so. You don’t know anything about septas or burials. And he knows it too, you can tell he was sarcastic.

‘’Married?’’ The prince asks as a casual follow-up. You ignore him as your father comes through the lines, pushing an army of soldiers through the broken gates. They fend off the first few guards. And they slay whoever is on their path. As they push forward, the other half of the army is riled up and follows them, with a powerful battle cry. Even the smallfolk has come out, rallied to their cause, with whatever weapons they could find. Some grab swords from fallen soldiers, others just use pans and knifes.

More and more soldiers on Aemond’s side die as the battle seems to turn.

Your lips begin to smile hopefully as Diandra applauds. Annoyed, Aemond glares at her. You are quick to stop her. ‘’I asked you something.’’ He groans when he grabs you by the throat. You are not choked but understand by the rage and insanity in his remaining good eye he is very close and tempted to do so.

‘’Are you married?’’ He repeats, almost spitting at you.

You are not sure why he asks. You are sure you don’t want him to know that you are unwed.

And you won't become his.

So you lie.

The word rolls easily over your lips as you pretend to think back of a love long lost. ‘’Widowed.’’ You speak your voice soft. ‘’He went to the Reach to fight. They say he was burned alive.’’ You know he was there. You know he killed and blazed dozens in the Reach. You hope he feels terrible about it. Yet he begins to smile again, careless and pleased.

‘’I can live with that.’’ He chuckles in your ear. ‘’A woman as gorgeous as yourself is too pretty to be a widow forever. It's past time you moved on.’’ He lets go of you, pleased you answered him but annoyed it took you so damn long.

You absently nod. Until you have the eerie feeling that he might be referring to himself.

Your father fights well and bravely. But to think he would win is a foolish thought. And eventually, he is captured and brought forward. ‘’Daddy!’' Diandra yells as they take him closer to her.

Almost happy with her, Aemond perks up and whispers something in the ear of a soldier close to him. The soldier runs off.

Aemond approaches Diandra and grabs a handful of her dark locks, causing her to cry out. He throws her on her knees and forces the blade he carries on her neck, ready to behead her any moment. ‘’That is a child!’’ You seem to be the only one disgusted by this.

He glares in your direction and another soldier grabs your arms. ‘’Do not harm the septa.’’ Aemond growls, warning him. The soldier lets go of you instantly. He turns his head to your father. ‘’Bend the knee or see your daughter die the way I killed your son as well.’’ Realization hits your father as the soldier brings Karst's head to him. Your father tears up helplessly as he nods. The head is tossed around between soldiers, before Aemond takes the skull of your brother and inserts his sword into the right eye of Karst.

Your sister is the child, the small one, the weaker one. You must protect her.

‘’Look away, Diandra!’’ You warn her, but it is too late. Diandra watches with her mouth open as Aemond cuts out one of the eyes of your brother, proudly as if its his trophy. Aemond laughs, taking in the eye.

Karst’s blue gorgeous and bright eyes.

‘’He had gorgeous eyes. I bet he fucked a lot of women, didn’t he?’’ He asks your father, and you are appealed at the audacity of him. Your father does not respond, silent tears running down both his cheeks. Aemond chuckles, before kicking your father against his kneecaps. ‘’You can be silent all you wish, I like silence. Helps me think.’’

‘’I bet he had his eyes set on the Septa here.’’ Aemond continues, gesturing to you. ‘’That’s why he rode into Battle, that’s why he challenged me. Not for his useless brat sister, but because he had a hard one for her.’’ Your own brother. You know he is lying. But just that thought, makes you sick. He sees your disgust and your glare and smirks. ‘’Does that disgust you? My apologies.’’

Your father croaks out. ‘’And my other daughter? What will you do with Y/N?’’ You close your eyes in fear as cold sweat breaks out. You hear Aemond's boots turn around to face you and you open your eyes. When you do you are confronted with his rage and his displeasure. You helplessly tear up. ‘’Please, I know she's a bastard but she is my daughter. Certainly you can make an exception for once. We can even pay you.’’ He offers. ‘’We have gold, plenty of women, animals for your dragon, you can even burn me, if you like. But not my children. She is good, so is Diandra. They are sweet kind girls-’’

You don’t know Aemond very well. But he does not seem to care even a bit about money. He cares about justice, about honor and revenge. Gold is not important to him.

Disgusted as if he burned himself or as if you are a disgusting thing, Aemond pushes you in the dirt next to your sister. The blade switches necks. You feel it cold in your throat. ‘’You shouldn't have lied to me.’’ He hisses in your ear, forcing you to feel the blade taunt and slightly touch your neck. You whimper. You don't want to die.

‘’Y/n!’’ Diandra cries.

Aemond ignores the protests. ‘’I've come to a wonderful conclusion: I will take this city, and I will take it in the name of my brother, King Aegon II.’’ That was to be expected. ‘’So, since you are the ruling family, you will all bend the knee to me and I’lll decide what I’ll do with you traitors later.’’ You can’t imagine he will let your father live. Diandra has one final thing to say.

‘’You are a coward! You attack our home, you harass my sister and you kill my brother and for what?! Because we wouldn’t bend the knee to your drunken cunt of a brother?! You Greens claim that Rhaenyra’s children aren’t true Targaryens, but at least they aren’t true monsters!’

Aemond takes a deep breath once she has finished speaking. ‘’The little brat annoys me. Perhaps she needs discipline.’’ You freeze and watch as a soldier grabs Diandra before hitting her multiple times across her face until blood streams from her nose and tears roll down her cheeks. He smirks, folding his hands on his back. ‘’Much better.’’

You are horrified, still on your knees as Aemond presses you further down in the mud. You make a wordless prayer to the gods. ‘’As I said: I will take this city. I will bestow mercy on everyone who bends the knee.’’ Aemond says, and you can’t help but frown. Part of you know he is lying to the masses. He is lying and playing them. You’ve seen earlier that Aemond does not care about the people he kills. Your father nods, hestiant at first but understands you don’t have a choice.

You finally get up from the ground, carefully looking at Aemond for approval. He does not seem to care nor notice you at all anymore.

He gives his soldiers instructions.

‘’Escort them to the bricks until I've decided that they can be released.’’ He speaks. ‘’Treat them with utmost respect. These people are nobility.’’ He warns the guards. A few nod, and your family is escorted away from you. Diandra cries your name when she is escorting to your home, where she will be held as a prisoner. ‘’Y/n! No!’’

Aemond sighs. The commander comes up to him. ‘’We rounded up around 300 survivors. And around 800 wounded men.’’ That is a joke compared to the troops that Aemond has. You don’t know his exact numbers but one glance behind you, and you don’t have to. You can count.

The prince thinks.

‘’Hm. Put the wounded out of their misery. And bring the survivors to the city gates.’’ He is going to kill the survivors. You know he is. That is why he wanted your father gone, he pretended to care so your father would go quietly. Since Aemond is distracted with the surrender of your hometown, you easily slip past a few guards, quickly putting distance between you and him.

You are almost at the gates when a hand grabs your arm, pulling you back. ‘’No! No, I don't want to go back!’’ You beg whoever holds your arm. You look straight into the face of the commander. He has a sorrowful pitiful look in his eye as he drags you back to Aemond who is waiting where you left him.

‘’On your knees.’’ He commands you the moment you are in front of him. He takes out the same sword he killed your brother with. He will kill you the same way.

‘’Why?’’ You whisper as a craven. ‘’I don’t want to die.’’ You confess softly.

His good eye rolls again, and he hisses at his soldiers. ‘’Help that simple woman.’’ He tells his guards and soldiers. Two men eagerly force you on your knees in front of the prince.

‘’I was so disappointed when I found out you had left my side.’’ He speaks the moment you are pushed on your knees. ‘’I thought you were smarter than to run away from me.’’ You are shocked for a brief moment. No one ever called you smart before. No one.

You huff, insulted and perhaps it helps that you know you will die: You have nothing left to lose. There is nothing you can say to hurt yourself even more. ‘’I saw the way you let go of me. You don't find me attractive anymore. I'm just a dirty bastard. Why waste your time with me? You’ll kill me eventually.’’

He chuckles, in a light, delighted manner. ‘’Kill you? No, no. That would be a shame of a pretty face.’’ Your face is touched, almost gently caressed and you are confused and terrified. You rather be with your family in a cell, than here. ‘’Now, I'm afraid that there is a punishment due for you.’’ He says, and he can’t hide his smirk.

You open your mouth to protest. Aemond takes the sword he killed your brother with, and makes sure that fresh blood is stained on the blade by running the sword, almost coating it in the blood of your brother by slashing open his corpse. The blade is now covered in crimson, red dripping blood. Aemond brings the blade to your face. He gently tilts his head and when he looks you in the eyes you know you have two choices. Submit or die. ‘’Lick my sword.’’ He says.

You hesitate. ‘’That is my brother. That is…disgusting.’’ You protest. Licking his blood, disrespecting his corpse and tasting his blood: it is all too much for you. You burst into tears.

Aemond sighs. ‘’As a Targaryen, I don’t quite see the issue.’’ He jests, causing the commander to chuckle, as well other soldiers. ‘’You can lick this sword or you can get on your pretty knees and die.’’ He says, carelessly.

You hope he does not cut your tongue out with it. You lick the edge of the blade, softly careful not to hurt your own tongue. Aemond watches, his breath stuck in his throat as you gently lick the blood clean of his blade. You feel disgusted and sick after it, and you must to all you can to avoid throwing up. Aemond moves the sword,into his seath.

‘’You see that, men? These women have no self-respect, no dignity, no value. They are as sheep in the meadow, ready for a good ram to fuck them.’’ He speaks to the masses of the army he commands, using you as a example. You whimper when Aemond grabs you by the throat.

He throws you on your knees in front of him.

‘’Kiss my boots.’’ He hisses. ‘’Show me your obedience and you won’t be killed.’’ He promises you. ‘’Kiss them, or I will fly my dragon over your hometown and burn everything and everyone that you hold dear to ash.’’ You bend your head and leave two kisses on each his boots. You recoil when you taste the disgusting mud he walked through.

Aemond grabs you from the ground, by the throat and roughly kisses you. You protest and try to flee him, but he holds you too tightly to escape. You are made a spectacle of. This is not desire, this is power. ‘’Tell the men this one won't be hurt or touched without my approval. She's mine.’’ He barks at the commander and leaves with a posessive smack on your ass. You flinch, whimpering.

You understand your fate very well. The prince lifts your teary cheeks and kisses your lips, gentle and soft this time. A horse is brought to you both. ‘’You’ll ride with me.’’ He tells you. ‘’When we are riding through the city, you’ll hold your brother’s head for me. You hold it above your head, you show it around and you make sure that every fucking villager in this piss-forgotten-shithole understands who’s in charge now.’’ He groans in your ear.

You nod, terrified. His face and voice softens. ‘’I am so glad I found you before I sacked this place.’’ You hate that word with a burning passion. ‘’You might have gotten hurt.’’ He makes his voice soft when speaking to you, almost seductive and sweet. ‘’I might be staying a while. I hear the nights are dark and cold here. I need someone to keep me warm.’’

You don’t respond, not thrusting yourself to not cry. ‘’And who’s better fitted for that, than a nameless, bastard who dared to lie to me?’’ He lifts your chin so he can count the tears in your eyes, before they fall and roll down your cheeks.

‘’Get on the horse.’’ He says, commanding you. You clumsily climb on the horse, waiting for his further instructions. He climbs on the same horse, and wraps his bloodied hands around your waist, staining your dress. He takes the reins of the horse and directs it to where the majority of the survivors are rounded up.

You hold the head of your brother as a few soldiers from your father’s troops recognize you. Your hands shake yet you won't let go of your brother’s head. Aemond makes sure that you are surrounded by guards loyal to him before leaving. You remain alone at the castle gates, under guard.

Aemond finally returns, with his dragon. He commands the survivors to be brought outside. You are forced on your knees in the grass, between bloodied bodies, missing body parts and arrows. Because he wants you to see and to remember well what comes next. He starts with the survivors who are the most injured. An old man around your father’s age can’t walk because of his bleeding legs. ‘’Let me help with you that.’’ Aemond offers the man a hand. The man smiles, through his pain. Aemond quickly takes out his sword instead, slashing at the injured leg until the plain muscle holding his leg together as thin threads is cut and the man screams. He collects the leg and feeds it to his dragon. After that, he feeds the man the leg belonged to.

Aemond forces around dozens of people to his dragon. Some are roasted first, screaming as they burn in their armor. Some are chopped up, cut up, slashed up, everything to make the meal sweeter for Aemond’s beloved Dragon. You remain on your knees, sobbing with every new victim for mercy by Aemond. Instead of doing so he grins, leaning and gives you his even more bloodied sword to lick clean. ‘’Save your voice, little Y/N. You are going to need it badly once we are alone.’’

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

''But Vhagar didnt you already publish-''

I did rewrote it. Aemond did not took the eye in the orginal one.

I found that a ...neat little addition:))

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asongofstarkandtargaryen · 6 months

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Weirwood bows (Arya's future weapon?)

First, I want to clarify that the theory I'm going to write about isn't one I consider very possible to happen. Still, since I'm tired talking over the same subjects on asoiaf, I decided to have some harmless fun by letting my imagination run wild with speculating about it.

On one of Bran chapters in AGOT, we find out that the children of the forest used bows made of weirwood in order to hunt. Back then, the children of the forest were part of the long past, only existing in Maester Luwin's history lessons.

Later on, we find that they still exist as Bran encounters them on his travel beyond the Wall. Also, on Jon's chapters we learn that free folk also uses weirwood bows (alongside with weirwood spears).

Here comes the wild speculation part.Arya has expressed more than one her desire to learn how to shoot arrows.

There were a dozen steps between the archer and the point of her sword. We have no chance, Arya realized, wishing she had a bow like his, and the skill to use it.

ASOS, ARYA II

Anguy smiled over his ale. "When I don't fancy a man's eyes, I put an arrow through one." Arya remembered the shaft that had brushed by her ear. She wished she knew how to shoot arrows.

ASOS, ARYA II

Anguy had arrows tipped with bodkins as well as broadheads. A bodkin could pierce even heavy plate. I'm going to learn to shoot a bow, Arya thought. She loved swordfighting, but she could see how arrows were good too.

ASOS, ARYA VII

So, what if one day - after she learned the essential arrow skills- she obtained a bow made of weirwood; the tree which plays a crucial role to Northern religion and it's linked with various magic elements.

During her time with the Brotherhood without Banners, Anguy tried to teach her how to shoot arrows but it wasn't successful. Still, instead of altogether dismissing the possibility she could learn that skill, he simply said she needed a different type of bow:

Anguy let Arya try his longbow, but no matter how hard she bit her lip she could not draw it. "You need a lighter bow, milady," the freckled bowman said. "If there's seasoned wood at Riverrun, might be I'll make you one."

ASOS, ARYA IV

When Arya returns to Westeros, I do believe that she will meet the BwB again so perhaps this time Anguy can properly teach her, and she could obtain a weirwood bow one day.

I'm not saying this is going to happen within the asoiaf series. Martin already gave her character a weapon (Needle) in case she needs to defend herself so he might not feel the need to show her obtaining another fighting skills & weapon. But since I believe that Arya will live a long life post the end of the series, she could find time to learn to shoot arrows later on. Maybe, she can ask her oldest brother, Jon, to teach her. He has the skill and I doubt he would deny Arya a skill that would increase her changes of survival.

Speaking of him, it's interesting that he compares Arya to Ygritte right after he mention that the latter uses a bow made out of weirwood:

Stonesnake had called her a "spearwife" when they'd captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn't wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but "spearwife" fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier.

ASOS, JON II

Finally, I wanted to say that on one of Bran's visions we see one of the Stark ancestors using weirwood arrows:

A dark-eyed youth, pale and fierce, sliced three branches off the weirwood and shaped them into arrows

ADWD, BRAN III

I'd love to see Arya using a weapon her ancestors also used, one that it's connected to the magic of the North.

#arya stark #house stark #a post of ice and fire #valyrian scrolls #asoiaf meta #arya meta #asoiaf speculation #mymeta

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ewanmitchelll · 1 year

Text

Imagine you are a Danish woman who falls in love with Osferth.

Warnings: smut/fluff.

Inspired by: Rosalía’s “LLYLM”; “Dark Paradise” by Lana del Rey.

***

You are a daughter of Jarl H/N who died fighting side by side to Ragnar Ragnarsson. Because he was already a widow by the time he went to those wars against Wessex, this meant you had only an elder brother. Hence why Ragnar thought prudent to honor his friend by adopting his children.

Now here you are, reaching maturity with your long y/c locks, y/c smooth skin and y/c eyes that are deep, keeper of unspoken dreams. You are not very inclined to sword fighting, though you are an excellent archer and always carry a dagger by your side—as taught by Ragnar, whom you started seeing him as a stepfather as well as Brida as a sort of the mother you’ve never had.

There is something good in you that your beauty seems to highlight—and even Uhtred Ragnarsson was not oblivious to it.

“Not Y/N, Uhtred. This one is like my daughter”, said Ragnar with a smile on his lips. “Go look somewhere else.”

“She is beautiful”, Uhtred groaned. “But out of respect for you, I will behave.”

You prefer to surround yourself in quiet contemplation, hence why you are found nearby a river, giving praise to your Gods when you occasionally spot a male...completely nude.

"Oh", you exclaim, surprised, though unable to look away.

“My lady!”, the other one shouts back, trying to cover himself. “Do close your eyes!”

He runs to grab his clothes and you find yourself reluctantly to look away. The said male is so captivating—and you are not even concentrating your thoughts solely on his manhood, but his muscles, his broad shoulders and the naivety in his eyes.

Yes. It’s about those eyes, so pretty and filled with an unique goodness you’ve never seen before in any other before—and it’s not as if you are very experienced in these matters, since you always amused yourself with flirtations but never going beyond that.

You are still watching by the time this tall man with short hair whose beautiful pair of eyes captured you comes in your direction to apologize for his misconduct.

“My lady, I had no intention to offend you. Please, accept my apologies”, he speaks softly.

And just like that you swoon.

Am I a fool? Oh Gods, you make me turn into one.

“Apologizes?”, you tilt your head, smiling rather shyly. “What for, sir? I was careless for letting myself find you.”

The man blushes and you almost beam at such a sight.

“I do not think so, my lady. I should have been careful”, he mumbles under his breath and all you wish is that he looks at you.

“You are dressed now, so it’s all amended”, you remark amused. “I am Y/N Y/LN. May I ask your name, good man?”

He finally raises his eyes and you like how he seems to fight away his shyness to speak to you, hands behind his back.

“I am Osferth, my lady. Despite the circumstances, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Would you care to join me in prayers, Osferth? I think the Gods have a plan for me since you are brought to me.” You smile wide at his blush upon your cheeky words.

“I fear to say… well, not fear, but I am a Christian. I do not think Gods have decided to such an occasion happen.” But as your face falls, Osferth comes to realize he’s making himself a fool. “I do not intend to disrespect you. Please forgive me. I… I suppose we can each pray to our own?”

As you nod, Osferth takes a seat by your side and, as much as he tries to concentrate, he cannot help himself. For when you close your eyes and start to meditate, you don’t seem to notice his long stare at you. Mesmerized by your beauty, Osferth admires the shade of y/c that paints your locks, your smooth y/c skin, the curves your gown seems to reinforce…

It’s not after a long moment in silence that when you open your eyes, you notice it.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”, you ask, between intrigued and embarrassed.

To be under his gaze makes you experiment different sensations, both physical and emotional. You are frightened to find them out, unable to escape the somewhat mystical bonding between you two. A perception that has not escaped Osferth’s attention either.

“Are you an angel, my lady?”

“I’m sorry?”, you repeat, confused.

“An angel”, he whispers. “Sent by the Lord. You are the prettiest of the women I’ve ever seen. Surely you are not part of this world, this...common, mundane and filth place where only a sword makes one victor above all else."

His voice is melodical, sweet, carried with a gentleness you rarely find in other men. Though you always read old icelandic tales about stories filled with love, mixed with adventures (and here you have in mind the story of Aslaug and Ragnar, for example, which according to an old tradition of your folk, occurred about a century earlier), the men you encountered with buried your hopes.

"I would not like to disappoint you, good Osferth", you whisper back. "But methinks I am more of a mundane creature than a divine one, even though I believe that my Gods and yours brought us here for a purpose".

The two of you share a smile, but this sacred union of souls alike ends when Brida searches for you. And when she finds you two, she heavily sighs.

"Really, Y/N? Of all men who pursuit your hand, you incline to flirt with a Christian?!"

You blush and part the gaze, ready to stand as Osferth offers his hand for you to take.

"He is a good man, mother. Please do not speak ill of him."

"How can you tell he is good if you two just met?"

"For a start, he treated me respectfully. You know well the men of our tribe would have kidnapped me if they had the chance."

And just like that you convinced Brida that Osferth could never do any wrong to you. It is how things start between you two.

***

You and Osferth begin to spend a lot of time together. He teaches you how to read and to write, activities that impress you. Soon, you and him decide to write down the stories you've been told as a child. Osferth is surprised by your good memory, and how much he learns from you.

On the other hand, you help him with archery and when there is music, Osferth actually dances with you.

The sight of how you smile to each other makes Ragnar sigh and Uhtred wonder how on earth you never looked at him in the first places

“A Christian”, Ragnar mutters under his breath. “Of all men around here, Y/N decides to fall in love with a Christian man.”

“Baby monk”, Uhtred grumbles. “Though he is a good guy, a warrior with surprisingly good skills for a fucking monk, he is…”.

It’s Brida who speaks what’s in most people’s thoughts, though:

“Methinks it’s the fact Y/N chose Osferth over you that is making you sigh dramatically, Uhtred.”

Amidst teasings, it becomes very obvious to all that whatever is going on between the two of you goes beyond physical attraction. But for some reason you and Osferth seem shy about getting the first steps.

Until one day he invites you to see the stars. Whilst the tribe is drowning itself in excessive drinking, you—on this day, dressed in silk red gown with details in blue, a fancy gift your adopted father gave you, which was actually sent from lady of the Mercians, Æthelflæd, when they met in one of these occasions—are content drinking mead. Unlike your family, you don’t like to exceed yourself much. Little wonder why you and Osferth get along so well. It’s when he comes for you.

“Lady Y/N, my greetings. I understand you are busy, occupied with such a feast, but I was wondering if you’d like to see the stars with me.”

He speaks softly and though he can be bold in battle—growing so after countless incursions by Uhtred’s side—, when it comes to women Osferth lacks the confidence. As much as he tries to follow his friend in such manners, he fears he cannot find a place in between heathen-like warrior behavior and proper Christian mindset.

But whatever the struggle that ignites within, Osferth finds peace with you. He can be himself, aware that you don’t judge him for being an atypical warrior monk. Even so, however, he still believes that you’d prefer him to be bold like the men of your tribe.

“Why, of course, sir”, you beam, extending your hand to him. “I was starting to think if you would ever take me out of this boring feast.”

Osferth smiles quietly, looking down as his hand intertwines with yours.

“I thought you’d like to stay. I saw you were dancing earlier.”

“How come you did not ask me to dance?”, you ask him, shooting him a hurtful glance.

As you two pass the noisy salon, you and Osferth ignore the eyebrows raised of Ragnar and the smirk on Uhtred’s lips. Or how the Irish keeps nudging the latter’s arm, laughing quietly, all the whilst Brida rolls her eyes. To think the two of you are leaving unnoticed…

“You were already busy”, Osferth defends himself. “I assumed your partner was a better one… You do know how terrible I look when it comes to music.”

You poke his sides playfully before you are led to a quiet spot Osferth’s been wishing to take you.

“And you know I couldn’t care less about it”, you smile at him.

Osferth blushes, refusing to meet your gaze, but he smiles quietly. His heart races at your words and there is so much he wishes to tell you.

“So here we are”, Osferth points to the grass where there is an old piece of blanket over it. “Please forgive my…”

You throw your hands around his neck, cutting his words.

“Your kindness is more than I deserve. Thank you for looking after me, Osferth.”

He smiles warmly, openly this time. When the two of you are settled, he asks you:

“Is this of your liking?”

“To be with you is of my liking”, you tell at long last.

Perhaps this is the effect of three meads, but you don’t seem to care. Your body may be warm, but your soul has been aching for him. Osferth feels it too.

“Whatever my soul is made of”, he whispers, pulling you closer to him, “I believe it’s made of yours.”

And saying so, he finally kisses you under the stars.

***

The kiss is sloppy at first. There are soft giggles in between, with neither knowing exactly how to go. But it does not take long before each togue pairs the other properly. You can tell that he’s been only shy, not inexperienced as part of you had hoped.

The way he grips around your waist is firm, and slowly his confidence shows it’s way when using his free hand to play with your hair, pulling it gently before cupping your face.

There is a moment where the kiss starts to lose control. You like how dominating he seems, how his tongue asserts control over yours, how breathless you both are. And every wall is knocked down easily. Just like that.

But Osferth’s conscience urges him to stop. When seeing a silent protest in your eyes, he does not look away, though, before saying:

“I want this to be perfect. I do not wish to deflower you right here, even if we have Christ as our witness in every inch of the nature He created.”

You tilt your head, rather unsure what to interpret from his words.

“I appreciate your respect, something I have rarely seen even amidst the folk I’ve been raised. But I must know… Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. Please, do not think so”, he rushes to cup your face again. He rubs his nose against yours before resting his forehead against yours. “I want you to be my wife, Y/N. This is what I’ve meant. D-Do you take me as your husband?”

You beam delightedly. Your smile makes him smile in turn, his heart melting at the sight of your evident happiness at his disastrous proposal. But there you are, just the two of you in the wild, where the starts and the moon are the only witnesses of such a pure display of mutual love and devotion.

“I do. But you must know I will not leave the ways of my people behind”, you tell him, wishing not to sound so insecure.

“I care not. I take you as you are”, Osferth assures you.

You hold him close, eyes closed as you live this moment. All you see behind your mind is him, his smile, his gentleness… A thousand virtues to lead your way, one you’d gladly follow.

Your Valhalla.

His Heaven.

“I love you”, both of you say at the same time.

And you smile at each other because you know.

***

A few months later…

You come to find out that, as careful he might be with you, there is no shyness out of public’s eyes. You take delight at his hunger for your flesh, at his devotion to you. When he goes on his knees and wakes you up in the best of ways…

“Oh Osferth!”, you barely open your eyes when sensing his tongue working wonderfulness in between your legs.

You still have in mind the day he told you he’d wanted to try something with a woman…that his brothers in arm often talked about. But he didn’t want to waste it with any woman, no.

Your hand moves instantly to play with his hair all the whilst you grip the sheet with the other. You never hated as you hate now to wear your nightgown.

“You are waking the beast within me”, you moan, starting to feel your legs weight.

But all the response you get is a groan and when you look down, you meet his eyes and… dear Gods, there is mischief in them.

Just like them, he drinks every bit of you. And when raising up, you take delight in how undressed he is already.

“Husband!”, you kiss his lips fervently all the whilst pulling himself towards you. “You come here…”

He chuckles, specially when you are moved by this unbearable fire that he sparked in you.

“Yes, wife? What’s it with you?”

You start kissing his neck all the whilst locking your legs around his waist, your curious hands not taking too long before finding his erect manhood.

“You make me go insane, Osferth”, you whisper against his neck, getting wet at his moans, at how he throws his head back and enjoys your touch, ever so smooth.

“Oh, do I?”

“Yes”, you bite his earlobe, smirking at his shivering. “Yes, you do.”

You’d gladly go down on him had he not opened his eyes and swiftly turned you. So now he is on top of you and holding your wrists above your head, he begins to remove your nightgown.

“You are so beautiful”, he whispers against your lips, eyeing you with not the common lust of the men, but with so much more.

Which arouses you and tenders your heart all the same.

“I love you”, your words come out as whining which makes him chuckle.

It is only then he slowly, but very skillfully slides into you.

“I love you too, Y/N”.

And just like that you start making love. It would not take too long before a big family starts to raise. After all, you are always following your husband everywhere he goes—even if Osferth protests against it for your safety—and you never resist him. As he never resists you.

Uhtred would later remark that you two form a rather unique pair…

#ewan mitchell #osferth x y/n #osferth x female reader #Osferth smut #Osferth #baby monk #the last kingdom

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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

Text

I Can Sabotage Me By Myself

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries, temporary character death (I promise)

Summary: You always knew it would hurt to lose Daryl, but you never imagined it would feel like this.

A/N: Honestly, today has not been a good day for me. So I needed some super angst. I apologize in advance.

“Don’t touch him!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, your hands pulling away from the man on the ground for a moment. Rick backed away, his wide eyes shining with unshed tears. He didn’t go far but just away was enough. You leaned down, smoothing back the archer’s hair, not even caring about the blood that was wetting the strands you touched. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m here. Just look at me, I’m here.”

Daryl’s eyes were wide and focused on you; god, the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. You always told him you could see everything you had ever wanted in his eyes. Even now, when they were filled with pain and fear, you could still see everything.

“Ssshhh,” you tried to soothe him, even as blood streamed over his lips. The bite in his throat was deep. It was fatal. You knew that. He did, too. Still, you held pressure against it. He would bleed out faster if you didn’t. You were selfish. He was in pain, choking on his own blood and all you could think about was hoping he’d last one more minute. And then one more. And then one more.

Daryl brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and leaving a crimson print on your skin. You didn’t care. That’s not what you felt at that moment. You felt his touch, cooler but still warm. Still alive.

“You’re alright.” You lied. You knew that he knew that too, but even as he coughed and red burst past his lips, he smiled at you. It was small and pained but genuine. When his hand fell away from your face and you clearly heard the sounds of your friends sobbing over the gunfire and struggles still happening around you, you knew you couldn’t pretend any longer. “Please, don’t go.”

Daryl was still now, blinking slowly, any fight left in him fizzling out. He was still watching you. You could tell there was so much he wanted to say. “Please, Daryl, I can’t. I can’t do any of this without you.” The movement was so slow and soft, the very last of his energy. He put his hand on his chest, over his heart, and then pointed a trembling finger at you. You nodded, grabbing that hand to kiss his palm and hold it against where your own heart was beating. “Me too.” You whispered, watching his eyes close. “Me too.”

All other sounds faded, no longer mattering. You stayed frozen to that spot, his hand still held against your chest. You kept it there, trembling as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his forehead and then his mouth, ignoring the blood there. Your fingers gently grasped his chin and turned his face away from you before you took hold of the hilt of the knife strapped to your thigh. The flames burning all around you reflected on the blade as its sharp tip pressed in just below the base of his skull. “Me too.” You whispered again. The wail you released echoed as you drove the knife forward, all you could hear over and over and over and over and then darkness.

You sat up with a gasp, skin glistening with sweat that had your camisole sticking flush against you, heart pounding a tattoo into your ribs. There wasn’t enough air. You were looking frantically around the room. The lighting from one small window was dim at best, but you could see the bed you were lying on. There were clothes on the floor, in a pile against the wall. One small shelf. Two nightstands. A door, half open. You could barely make out the toilet and shower stall. Next to the main door, propped against the wall, was a crossbow.

Daryl’s room.

Had you come down here and passed out after it happened? You were so confused. Your chest ached, both from lack of air and something else. Still gasping through an onslaught of tears, you looked down beside you to Daryl’s pillow. You fell onto your side and pulled it against your chest, sobbing through uncontrolled breaths. It still smelled like him.

The door creaked loudly as it opened. Daryl had always scowled at the thing and said he would fix it. You didn’t know who had entered but they turned on the light. You were certain they’d be distressed at finding you like this: tangled in the sheets, crying, and hugging the archer’s pillow. Surely, they’d understand.

“The hell ya doin’ to my pillow?”

You froze. You stopped breathing, eyes wide open. Sitting up quickly, your bloodshot eyes landed on the very man you had just been mourning. He was standing in the doorway, slowly closing the thing behind him while he kept his worried gaze on you.

“Ya alright? Ya look like shit.” He drawled. He took a slow step toward you, hands up like he was showing you he was unarmed. Your breathing had picked up again but your body didn’t seem to be getting the signals your brain was sending it. “Y/N?” He was at the foot of the bed now, leaning down with his head tilted.

Before he could say anything else, you launched at him, arms winding around his neck. Your body collided with his so forcefully that he stumbled back with a grunt, able to catch his balance even as your legs wrapped around his waist. He didn’t say anything as you all but wailed against his neck. His arms, which had been hovering outward, found their way around you so he could gently rub your back.

“Ya gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” He walked forward and sat down with you still firmly attached to his front. You shook your head against him. “Fair ‘nough.” He shrugged and continued to rub your back until your sobs quieted to occasional hiccups. You finally pulled back, eyes swollen and red. Daryl gave you a concerned once over and then tucked some hair behind your ear.

“I had—I had a nightmare.” You knew now it had been just that. Your sleep-addled brain had earlier left you confused and emotional, unable to pull yourself out of the terror you had endured. You were able to remember going hunting with Daryl that morning. The two of you had returned with a small doe. A headache had been threatening to build all day, so Daryl had sent you off for a nap and reminded you to take something for your head. “Alexandria was—there were walkers everywhere—Daryl, you were bit—” Your hand quickly pressed against his throat, as if you were assuring yourself there was no wound. “I watched as—I had to—”

“M’right here.” Somehow, he made sense of your ramblings. He tried to catch your eyes but you lowered your head. “Hey.” His finger hooked beneath your chin and guided you to look at him. “M’fine. Been helpin’ Carol for the past couple’a hours. M’good.” He released your chin only to take one of your hands. He pulled his vest aside to place your palm against the shirt he wore beneath it. His heart beat strongly against your touch, if not a little fast. “See?”

You laughed in spite of yourself. You were awake now and had already figured out that it had all been a grizzly nightmare, but this somehow brought you a new level of calm. Before he could say anything else, you pressed your mouth against his, smiling at the ‘oomph’ that escaped him. He proceeded to kiss you breathless, until you were just a boneless heap in his arms.

“Ya good now?” He asked, pushing you back a little to see your face.

“I’m good.” You smiled softly, tracing your fingertips along his jaw.

“Good.” He grabbed your arm and pulled while standing, his other arm behind your thighs hoisting you the rest of the way across his shoulder. Your laughter bubbled up and out of your throat as your fists lightly pounded against his back. “Let’s getcha fed an’ then we can spend the rest’a the night lettin’ ya find out just how alive I am.”

“Oh my god, Daryl! Shut up!”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon drabbles #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #injured!daryl dixon #Spotify

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