#daniel sharman fanfic

[everlastingdreams]

Born In The Dawn Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41

Pairing: Weeping Monk/ Lancelot x Reader.

Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. !!!Spicy and smut parts!!!!. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +220K

Chapters:  41/41

#weeping monk #cursed netflix #cursed #weeping monk x reader #lancelot x reader #the weeping monk #weeping monk x you #cursed lancelot #lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #fanfic #daniel sharman character #daniel sharman #daniel sharman fanfic

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

I see you write Troy Otto Fics 🫣

“you fixed me. you fixed my broken heart.”

could I request a angst turned fluffy fic where Troy is being an ass but around reader he’s an awkward ass bc he doesn’t know how to process his feelings but one day reader confronts him and is like “dude tf” and he reveals it all ? 👉🏽👈🏽

It has been quite a while since I have done any requests and succeeded in actually writing them, so first of all THANK YOU. And secondly, this terrified me so I'm sorry if I changed a few things because that's how my head works.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto x Female Reader

WARNINGS: Normal FTWD stuff. FEELS!

Everyone within a few miles distance could have heard the yelling coming from the militia tent. No one could tell who had started it when the ruckus had suddenly erupted moments ago. All you could tell was that the boys were finally fighting back at Troy, making your feet pace a little quicker and making your way across the ranch. 

When you made it to the ruckus, you noticed the eyes peeping through the windows of the outlying RVs and tents scattered around. Giving an all knowing smile to the peeping eyes, you quickly disappeared behind the tan curtains finding a group of 5 men squaring off against 2, Troy, with Nick holding Troy back. 

Your entrance was soon noticed and the group grew silent. 

“What in the holy hell is wrong with you all?” Toeing up to John who was rubbing the newly formed bruise on his jaw. Nick let go of his hold on Troy’s jacket, heading to the back of the tent with a grunting sigh, catching your gaze as he did so. 

“You have all been a bunch of children the past few days, and now this?” Turning on your heels you make eye contact with Troy. Scanning his features, you take in the red patches growing upon his cheek and jaw line before meeting his gaze once more, this time more worry and sadness laced in your eyes. “You’re going to attract every walker within miles, and if you’re all fighting eachother, who is going to fight for the rest of us?” 

All men in the tent sunk a bit in their boots, all eyes staring at the ground. Troy’s cheeks reddened, not from a sucker punch this time. You look over to Nick, a smirk turning at the corners of his lips as he stared back. 

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Cooper spoke up. “We had a disagreement. We will watch our voices.”

John scoffed loudly, his eyes shooting back up to Troy on the opposite side of you. “I think she should know. We’re done getting the shit end of everything and still getting shit on while others can skate by and get the royalty treatment.” His eyes then shifted to you, scanning your frame up and down. You could feel the hair on your neck raise at the feeling, and you could feel the way Troy shifted his weight behind you. 

“It’s not her fault,” Nick finally raised his voice. The tone sounding over this bull shit and ready for someone to lay everything out. “You’re all being a bit dramatic anyways. Troy hasn’t done shit, except be an ass as usual.” 

This earned a raised eyebrow and questioning look from Troy, standing with both hands on his hips. Everyone knew Troy was kind of an ass, that’s how he got the miltia where it is, but you had never really seen what everyone else said about him. He was typically kind and oddly gentle when you were around him. He wasn’t this “monster” you hear the ranch whispering about. 

“Troy-” you took a deep breath, your back still turned towards him with your eyes staring straight back at John. “-Say you’re sorry.”

The tent went still. No one, not even Troy, was expecting that. No one told Troy what to do other than his late father and brother, and after they had expired, no one would have ever tried. Let alone tell him to apologize. 

To everyone’s surprise, Troy spoke. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice low and grumbled through gritted teeth, but he said it. The men all shook their heads in response. Not knowing how or what to do next, they funneled out of the tent one by one. All as quiet as a mouse leaving only Troy and yourself in the space.

Turning on your heels, you lock eyes with the tall brunette. His face red and one eye growing bloodshot from what you assume was a nice hit from John. His eyes weren’t angry though… he was nervous as he tried his best to maintain the eye contact. 

“I didn’t think you would actually say it, but I’m glad you did.” Your lips turned into a gentle smile, closing the distance between you both. Your hands reached up to his face, cradling his jaw in both palms, fingers carefully brushing over the small cuts and broken capillaries in his skin. 

Troy returned the smile once he felt your warm touch. His blue eyes fluttering closed with a sense of comfort that felt so extraterrestrial to him. “Thank you for stopping us, Nick, that bastard, was close to getting his ass kicked too.” His voice cracked witha chuckle between his words. 

“Your still a ass though, Troy. You have to change that. I hear it from so many here, yet I never see it. So I know you are capable of being a gentleman, Troy Otto.” 

“If you tell me to, then I guess I have to.” Troy’s body shook with a mischievous laugh. His eyes opening to find yours once more. The closeness between you both instinctively closing little by little. “You fixed me, you know that?”

His words caught you off a little bit, making you stutter in your actions. His skin felt warm against your touch, his mere presence so close brought on a sense of safety and openness. You could have stayed like that for hours… days. It somehow felt right. 

What he spoke, however, caused a twisting feeling in your gut. 

“I was broken after everything, after everyone was gone. I was alone and hurt in so many ways,” Troy’s eyes softened. He had figured opening up to you would be impossible, his feelings always getting the best of him and taking any words he wanted to say and throwing them out the window. Bu here and now, with you like this, he was at peace. 

“I was broken and you fixed me-” His eyes fell from your own to land upon your lips, those nerves that had stopped him from saying it all previously appearing in his belly again. “-so thank you.”

You could feel his tension grow in the moment so you took matters into your own hands, raising to your tip-toes and crushing your lips to his. Years it had been since you had ever felt this feeling. Even then, it didn’t feel like this, not this strong. 

Troy was a pain in the ass. 

At times, an actual ass. 

But you were his golden key to change. 

And there was about to be a lot of it. 

#troy otto x fem reader #troy otto fanfic #troy otto #troy otto x reader #fear the walking dead #ftwd fanfic #daniel sharman fic #daniel sharman #I DID OVER 1K WORDS! #that's nearly impossible for me #like ever #it's been a few days #not great #this better pick me up

[noemitenshi]

What should've been - Troy's revenge

OK so, this here

is absolute bullshit. No way in hell would the person who stabbed his injured hand on enemy’s knife

(gif for your convenience)

be as easily deterred from extracting his revenge as depicted in the first gif (especially since he's so fucking close to finally getting it). So what actually should've happened in this scene* is some iteration of the following.

Troy's revenge

God he was so close, so fucking close to finally avenging his Serena, finally getting his due. Finally… it was all he could think as he dragged Madison towards Serena’s spoiled form. Finally, finally, finally.

God, he felt like he was going crazy with the anticipation of it, so so close now, he could hardly believe it. But it was happening. He was making it happen. Finally, finally. Seconds, really, until Madison would get what was coming to her, until he could watch her being torn apart by his wife that wasn’t his wife anymore.

Even if that turned out to be the last thing he’d ever do – that’s what it felt like with the pain burning white hot in his chest, a beacon of agony, tearing through the entirety of his body, reverberating in his bones, his teeth, his very soul. He paid no mind to it. Couldn’t. It wasn’t important now. The only thing important now was right in front of him, Serena, Serena. His eyes were glued to the shell of her, this distorted, wild thing. No matter how much effort he put into taking care of her, she never again looked right. Not since he watched the life drain from her eyes. And no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t not see his wife in her—

Suddenly the pain became unbearable, driving everything else from him – nothing else existed in him than this pain. No thoughts, no feelings, no goals and wants. For an eyeblink he didn’t even see her anymore, even though his eyes were staring right at her snarling face. Just an eyeblink and he’d almost given in – anything to make this pain stop – but then he could see her again, hazily, chopped, in a way, as if his mind wasn’t working right, but he could see her again and he gritted his teeth, and with a choked shout he stayed right where he was, his hands still on her, dragging her forward, even as she was still twisting the branch in his chest, pulling and tugging, trying to make him stop. He wouldn’t.

He didn’t surrender. Not ever. Not even when the sheer agony caused tears to spill, when every part of him, every fiber of him wanted nothing more than to let go of her, hide and cower until the pain passed. She was shouting now too, with the effort it took her, both of them not able to talk anymore, not in control of their voice anymore, and finally, a howling scream rang out – and at first he wasn’t even sure if it was her or him it was torn from, but his sight didn’t betray him this time, and when he saw flesh being torn from Madison’s neck, then did he finally realize that the pain wasn’t as pronounced anymore, not as all-encompassing – Madison had finally let go of the branch.

He was still holding on to her jacket though, was still holding her close to Serena, while she was thrashing now, limbs flying uncoordinated. It was her in agony now. He stayed right there and watched how she was being devoured, bit for bit, watched as her screams died, turned to gurgling, sobbing, sounds, turned to nothing. Watched as her limbs trembled and twitched until they didn’t. Watched as her face turned unrecognizable, muscle and bone showing. Watched as Serena’s mouth, her face turned a bloodied mess and still bite and chew and tear. Still not satisfied. Never satisfied.

Troy let go. And the pain, the pain he’d ignored by sheer power of will returned and he gasped, sank down, whimpered. Sobbed. Cowered and hid his face and was hurting.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like this, how long he’d let his pain overwhelm him but when he could finally feel, think something else besides it, he heard chewing noises. His gaze sought their origins and he saw that Serena’s form was still straining towards Madison, still tearing flesh where she could reach, though there wasn’t much left, still this groaning, gurgling sounds out of her throat, filling the air.

Suddenly he moved, swift, a reflex maybe, and buried a knife in what had been his wife’s head once. All movement stopped and her corpse sank down.

He cradled her head in his lap, hugging her helplessly, stroking her hair – that wasn’t as silky as he remembered it being – because it wasn’t her, even if it was.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

His hands moved through her hair that wasn’t hers desperately, as if trying to find remnants of her, patting her head sweetly, stroking her cheek, all empty gestures now.

“I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for – not having been there to protect her, not insisting she stay home, not having buried her when she died, letting her turn, using her body as means for revenge…

“God, I’m sorry.”

He was sobbing again – still, his vision blurred by hot tears, dripping down his cheeks. He leaned closer over her, as if wanting to be even nearer to her, or as if to shield her, the sharp pain intensifying, though by now he’d almost grown accustomed to this tortured feeling, his body screaming at him, frantic and terrified.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t stop saying it. Sobbing, blubbering, whimpering and short, panicked breaths interrupting his words until he was hiccuping, wailing. Mourning her.

And now, once he’d started, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop. Didn’t think he’d ever feel alright again. How could he when his wife lay dead in his arms – while he was alive. There was no denying that, the pain tearing at him unmistakable proof of it.

He was alive while she was dead, what a travesty! It should’ve been him, it should’ve been him.

Why wasn’t it ever him?

Why did he keep surviving the people he wanted to protect?

Why couldn’t it be him?!

He didn’t know how long he stayed like this, uselessly caressing his dead wife, his hands not able to stop – they remembered, too – while his body was wracked by grief, unable to speak anymore.

And though he thought he wanted nothing more to join his Serena, the second Madison stirred, letting inhuman sounds escape, he was startled into motion, eyes landing on her hammer while he scrambled to his feet and he didn’t hesitate to smash her legs – he wouldn’t be fast enough to escape like he was – and he’d be damned if he let her rest in peace. She didn’t deserve that. Crawling on the ground in perpetual hunger sounded just about right for her.

Then he took Serena in his arms, gently, gently, finding her a last resting place, every step poor agony, every scoop with the shovel dousing him in flames, ruthless and cruel.

But he persevered. He always did. He always would.

When he finally lowered her down his hands tightened around her and almost didn’t let go—

But he did. He let her sink into the earth, started covering her with it, shovelful by shovelful.

Soon he couldn’t see her anymore but he continued, dutifully making sure she wouldn’t be disturbed. He let her go because he had to. He wasn’t done yet. He was still needed. Tracy still needed him.

And with one last look at his wife’s grave stone

he turned to go get his daughter back.

-The end-

*that the scene shouldn’t exist *at all* because Tracy begging like this

should’ve been enough motivation for Troy to free himself earlier is another thing entirely...

#troy otto #madison clark #tracy otto #ftwd #fear the walking dead #daniel sharman #kim dickens #Antonella Rose #fanfic #my fic

[allthebestnamesweretaken]

Who else watched Cursed on Netflix??? It was such a fun show and had the potential to produce one of the greatest slow burn/enemies to lovers stories!! So much wasted potential with that cancellation

#cursed Netflix #cursed #why does Netflix destroy everything I love #nimue #nimue x weeping monk #katherine langford #daniel sharman #I miss Daniel Sharman #nimue x Lancelot #you see the potential right??? #they need more fanfics #I just know the redemption arc would’ve been POWERFUL

[aquarian-queen]

Warning spoilers for the next episode under the cut and also: me transcribing this scene that made me yell. Mute the “ftwd spoiler tag” or scroll past this if you don’t want to see all this of want to watch the episodes. Hope my fave gif makers will share asap cause I am not as talented as you guys are. With subtitles and raw preferably.

Scene 1: why Troy so desperately wants a safe place

“It’s your kid.” “Why’d you think we wanted Padre?” “Why didn’t you tell us what you wanted instead of trying to take it?” “Oh, so you could take my daughter from me too?” “I didn’t take anyone from you!” “That’s not true.” Troy shakes his head, “her mother’s dead because of you.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I don’t have time for this Madison!”

Scene 2: Troy vs Madison: Troy’s revelation

“Who did you think I took from you?” ”The woman who rescued me from the dam. The woman who gave me a second chance. ” Troy struggles and pleadingly begs Madison through strenuous grunts, “Please, I need to find my girl.” “No! Now you’re gonna know what it feels like wondering where your kid is!” “Mine could still be alive.”

So Troy was rescued at the Dam!!! That’s where he met his lady. So for 12-13 years he had someone and then Madison killed her. It strikes me as odd that she doesn’t remember it though. Anyway these two wandered around together for years. Had something. Fell in love. WHO IS THIS LUCKY LADY? But also, she tended to his wound? She likely knew about Troy’s past too and Troy admits in his moment of vulnerability and love for someone that she gave him a 2nd chance and now he only has their daughter, Tracy. So I wonder did Troy turn ‘evil’ as the show is trying to portray or were he and his lady just in tune with each other and she was equally a ruthless badass as him.

I personally prefer for the 2nd to be true, yeah he had growth, but also Troy is MADE for the apocalypse. He admits in this same episode that he (and Nick) “were better suited in this world than the last one”. I need more. I need a Troy Otto spinoff where we have this 12-13 year gap filled and if not, my ASS will be writing something in relation to my Troy Otto series I’m writing, which will follow canon S3 up until S8.

#ftwd spoilers #troy otto #daniel sharman #fear the walking dead #Will they show her? A flashback? I have zero hope seeing the lack of time and episodes #But hey a girl can dream and write fanfic to satisfy her needs #val's thoughts

[themuselesswriter]

If you’re wondering where I disappear, I’m writing a fanfic about cursed:’) and it’s not over until now which is crazy.

#fanfics #fanfiction #museless memes #renew cursed #cursed lancelot #netflix cursed #nimue cursed #gawain #squirrel #the green knight #the weeping monk #lady of the lake #daniel sharman

[hiatuswhore]

𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕝 — 𝕥𝕔

previous — masterlist — next

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: I have been struggling with writers block so I’ve been posting some works I wrote a while back but never put up. Let me know what you think. Feedbacks a good motivator! In my head I picture Shelley Hennig as Ivy, Diana Silvers as Marina, Daniel Sherman as Declan, Lili Reinhart as Mackenzie, and Camila Mendes as Bianca.

SUMMARY: Ugh, high school. Best four years of nothing. Raging mood swings and sporadic acne. All on top of balancing mean girls, douche bag guys, and cocky jocks. Best four years? Yikes image peaking in high school.

I can list several things I cannot stand. I could start with my Mom’s overbearing need to talk about her high school glory days, or my Dad’s never-ending trophies in nearly everything. My list continues for things such as romantic comedies, jean leggings, and platinum blonde hair. Do not tell Ivy about that she is one break-up away from cutting her hair and dying it blonde. I love her to pieces but she is a wildcard with a knack for trouble and a high social media following. Trust me when I say do not look at her Tik Tok. Her high following and verification coming from her looks and problematic prank videos.

“Hello? (Y/n) are you listening?” Marina asked, sitting across from me at the lunch table she types away on her laptop rambling profusely. She delicately placed flowers through her hair with half of it pinned up. She wears a cute white camisole with a beige boho cardigan that reaches the hem of her jeans. Resembling a pretty hippy, it works on her. Apologizing, I ask her to repeat herself but she only rambles about Ivy being in detention. Oddly enough Marina is on the opposite end of the continuum from Ivy. Not only the cheer captain, but one can make it a game of trying to find what club she is not a part of. Even started her own anti-bullying campaign. “So you’re not listening?”

“I’m sorry Mina. I didn’t get much sleep last night because somebody was busy practicing his guitar at all hours of the night.” I groan looking over at the guy’s table. It was a mixture of faces in the masses. No set groups at their table, the mix of guys come from all sports teams and clubs. At the center of the table sits Timmy laughing at something. You know those people you grew up with when you were little but now they just annoy the shit out of you. Yeah, that’s Chalamet, as cliche, as it is the perfect-haired idiot, is my neighbor. We grew up next to each other, yes there is a picture of us bathing together as kids. It is the bane of my existence. Yes, we are still friends but more so a down low thing. Him being the soccer goalie made him this big deal and me being virtually no one makes our friendship odd at school.

“I ordered our homecoming tickets online,” Opening my mouth to protest she quickly shrugs me off. “You have to come, it'll be no fun without you.”

“You’ll both have dates. What am I going to do? Just linger awkwardly?” Biting into my cold fry it lacks salt making me want to spit it out. Marina closes her laptop and turns to her salad she brought from home.

“Ivy and I could find you a date,” Though I have every intention of saying no I miss my opportunity as Mackenzie and Bianca sit next to us. In their cheering uniforms, they wear it every day like it is a badge of honor. It screams pick-me but everyone does pick them so the behavior is enabled.

“Hey, Marina, where's Ivy?” Mackenzie asks, scooting to the side allowing her some space both she and Bianca fail to spare me a single glance. I can see on Marina’s face that she has no interest in talking to either of them but she plants a warm smile on her face. Despite her distaste for the two most clueless people on the planet that is what I love about Marina, she is kind to everyone.

“In detention for calling Coach Hoffman an asshole,” The laugh that leaves my lips contrast the two girls’ wide eyes.

“Anyways we came over with invites for you and Ivy. Party at my place tonight. My parents are out of town.” Bianca’s raven black hair is straightened to perfection. She shuffles through her Michael Kors purse before pulling out two envelopes. Marina looks at me as she thinks it over in her head.

“Ivy will kill us both if we turned this down so yeah we’ll all be there,” For the first time since they sat at the table their eyes drift to me. I smile sheepishly as they look me up and down. Mackenzie grits her teeth as she smiles at me.

“That’s the thing (Y/n) you need an actual invite to get in and I only have a certain amount. I’ll let you know if anything changes,” I am no idiot, I know she is lying, the faux smile and honey tone holds more poison than anything.

“Problem solved.” Handing me half of her invite I bite back a laugh as Marina rips it in half. Both Bianca and Mackenzie feign chuckles as they excuse themselves leaving the two of us to watch them purposely walk by the guys’ table. Marina shakes her as she turns back to her salad. “Those two are something else.”

“I’ll catch you later I have a photography club meeting,” I say and Marina only smiles before going onto her phone. Unlike Bianca and Mackenzie, I actually have to pass the guy’s table to walk over to the dish return. It is okay though because none of them even turn from their conversations except one pair of eyes. Timothee’s lips pull into a smirk before he shoots me a wink. Smiling sarcastically I flipped him off before continuing on.

Mrs. Klotz wastes no time diving into the agenda for the following weeks. Since I arrive a few minutes late it leaves me with the bottom of the barrel for what event to cover. Of course, there is only one event that no one wants to do, the homecoming dance. As the meetings adjourned I wait for everyone to leave the room, the meeting was brief, and yet so much was covered.

“Mrs. Klotz please don’t make me cover the homecoming dance. I don’t even want to go.” I say, closing the club binder she places it in her desk before resting her hands on the desk. She wears glasses that frame her face with her auburn hair, all the guys like to creep on her due to her being fresh out of college.

“I thought it’d be perfect for you (Y/n). I even saw you purchased a ticket,” Mrs. Klotz explains as her eyebrows pull together slightly she tilts her head to the side. I mirror her expression before I remember what Marina had said.

“No, that was Marina. I’m pretty sure what she is attempting is entrapment,” I say, sitting on the edge of the desk behind me I watch as Mrs. Klotz frowns.

“Well, first that is detention for Miss Monroe. The online ticketing policy states students cannot buy tickets for other students,” My stomach flips for a moment as I realize what I have done.

“Did I say Marina sorry I get those two mixed up. It was Ivy who ordered the tickets,” Knowing Ivy would not care as she has been in detention more than she has ever been in class. None of this matters as Mrs. Klotz only apologizes before writing Ivy up and telling me there is no one else who can do it. “I assume you can give this detention slip to Miss Porter.”

In the hallway, I stop as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Ivy sent a text in the group chat telling us to meet her in the computer lab. Walking through the halls my arms fall at my side like dead limbs as I sulk through the corridors. It smells like sweat and pizza from the cafeteria and every couple of lockers is a candy wrapper or abandoned worksheet. Whoever the hell said high school was the best four years of your life, lied. In the computer lab, both Marina and Ivy are already there. Ivy is wearing a tube top with a denim jacket and legging. She is breaking the dress code as usual but it is getting to a point where the faculty do not even care what she wears. I am almost certain Ivy could show up in a bikini and no one would be fazed. Handing her the detention slip her eyebrows pull together.

“Wait what did I do this time?” She asks, explaining the situation she laughs at me before turning to Marina, “Since I am now the sacrificial lamb I would love to talk about that super cute sheer tank top you refuse to let me wear.”

“You get to wear it once then it goes back in my closet,” Marina says, rolling her eyes at the extortion. I look to Ivy asking why she summoned both of us to the computer lab but she only shrugs saying she got bored. There are still ten minutes to spare before the warning bell goes off. Marina hands Ivy the invite to the party and the two giggle amongst themselves about it but I only groan.

“Wait, this is a perfect time to figure out a date for (Y/n) for homecoming. How about Jack Ribas?” Marina says, looking through her Instagram followers as the short boy came to mind I can remember he was my chemistry partner.

“Tiny hands,” I cannot fight the grimace on my face as Ivy laughs before going on her Instagram. The real answer being his ex-girlfriend, she rarely speaks and I am sure she is the reason he has not dated in over a year.

“What about Mark Warshaw?” Ivy asked, earning a nudge from Marina as she is clearly not taking it seriously.

“He smells terrible. Come on,” I say, leaning back in my seat this only furthers how much I do not want to go to homecoming. Marina continues looking through her phone and I cannot say I do not appreciate her wanting to help.

“Terrance Avecedo?” As the name left her lips I could not help but stare at her with eyes I can only imagine appeared crazed.

“You mean my cousin? Dude,” I say as Marina apologizes profusely there is one guy I would not absolutely hate the idea of going with. Just my luck he and a few of his buddies walk by the computer lab. Declan Knight, once again it’s super cliche but he’s the football quarterback and captain. Timothee found it more than hilarious my crush on the 6’2 curly-haired beau.

“Hey, Ivy. Hey, Marina,” He says, popping his head into the computer lab and they both say hey Declan at the same time before he turns to me. “Hey, (Y/n).”

The feeling of panic rushes every inch of me as I force out a chuckle before breathlessly saying, “Hey.”

“Real smooth,” Fortunately Ivy says this as Declan is already continuing on wherever he is walking toward. Marina once again nudges Ivy as I put my head down groaning loudly.

“I am going to my locker. Please leave me to sulk about my day in peace.” I say and I hear Marina yell love you, saying it back I do not turn around. Everyone is in the hallways always playing it dangerously close to the late bell. At my locker, I can see Timothee walking toward my locker.

“Double-A.” He says, looking at me with his usual shit-eating grin, I frown as we rarely speak in school.

“Timmy. Shouldn’t you be ducking behind something to talk to me here?” He only chuckles. Girls would kill for him to walk up to the locker and chat yet I would pay him right now to walk away from me. Only wearing a simple long sleeve shirt, jeans, and converse he is still somehow a hot commodity at school.

“Funny. Also what the hell were you watching last night. It gave me soft porn vibes but very cinematic,” He asks and I shift on the balls of my feet as his grin widens. So I decided to watch that movie 365 on Netflix which was one of the cringest things I have ever seen.

“Spying on me much?” But once again I earn a laugh before he says that I should close my curtains more often. “Maybe don’t look in my window.”

“Noted. Where’s your girls at?” He asks scanning the hall for Marina and Ivy I close my locker. Crossing my arms I look at him asking who wants to know but the smirk on his lips reappears. “The only man in your life. No, your Dad does not count. So that leaves me, you are very welcome.”

“I can assure my love. You would not be in my life even if you were the only man on the planet.” I said, watching as he places his hand over his heart feigning pain. He wastes no time in quoting Marina’s anti-bullying campaign motto, Spread the Love. “Shut up jackass.”

“Timothee,” Mackenzie says and the high pitch of her voice makes me grimace as I look away. She pulls him into a kiss that lasts a couple of seconds longer than needed. The two are the most indecisive couple I have ever seen. I’ll break it down like this, today is Wednesday. Monday they were dating, Tuesday they were not, today is a big question mark and tomorrow is still a coin toss. This does not stop Timmy from being a total whore when they are broken up. I’m pretty sure Mackenzie still does not know Timothee hooked up with Bianca. I narrow my eyes as Mackenzie looks at me as she kisses Timothee. The urge to promise her I have no interest in the mop-headed idiot is strong but instead, I just stand there.

“Hey still here,” Placing my hands in my pocket I look down at the tiles as Mackenzie pulls back.

“Gosh, (Y/n) I am so sorry. Since when were you friends with my ex-boyfriend?” She asks, smiling kindly but it is clearly fake. I have no intention of outing our lifelong friendship but I have no time to even say anything before Timothee chimes in.

“We’re not just asking for some notes. What does it matter anyway?” Timothee asks, looking at Mackenzie who gives him a doe-eyed pout. Gagging as she pulls him into another kiss.

“I know you miss me.” She says before stalking off and I cannot help but now smirk at him.

“Healthy thing you got going there,” I say but he rolls his eyes before walking down the hall away from me. The rest of the day feels uneventful, the girls and I agree to meet at my house to get ready for the party. Which translates to them already ready and helping me insisting on staying home.

#timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothee x you #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet au #timothée fanfic #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #Shelly hennig imagine #Diana silvers imagine #Daniel sharman imagine #lili reinhart imagine #camila Mendes imagine

[captainbucky-yt]

"You're Not What I Was Looking For"

-- The Weeping Monk x OC (fem)

Chapter 68: to love so fierce [ ao3 ]

Chapter Summary: Ari and Lancelot make the most of their final night before war.

Content Warning: Smut/explicit/mature content. MINORS DNI. M/F nudity. Minor praise kink. Minor sub/dom. Vaginal fingering/penetration. Hand jobs. Oral M/F receiving. Edging. Unprotected M/F intercourse (wrap it before you tap it, guys)

Taglist: @trenko-heart @nike90 @moonlightaura03 (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

Exert:

Lancelot dragged the roughness of his beard along her jaw, leaving a burning trail in his wake.

“Turn around," he instructed.

The depth in his voice had want and need flaring through Ari’s body. 

Lancelot’s grip moved to either side of her hips as Ari turned herself around and pressed her shoulder blades to his chest, arching her body into his wandering touch. His fingers slid deftly over her hips, across her stomach, and then tugged upon the half undone binding over her chest. She breathed out in relief as the cloth fell away.

He kissed her shoulder, then her neck. Dipping his fingers down between her legs and branding her with the first curl of his index.

“Ohhh—” Ari buckled with a whimper at Lancelot’s delicate touch on her mound, feeling the hard press of his length against her rear. She’d forgotten all about the golden crown braided into her hair until it nudged against his collarbone, too lost in Lancelot parting her folds to reach up and work the braids apart. She pushed her hips back, delighting in the grunt she earned from him.

Across her body, Lancelot wrapped his forearm and hugged her tight. She held on while his fingertips massaged between her legs, and stars began to creep in to the darkness of her shut eyes.

“Nobody touches you like this—” Lancelot said with a warning as harsh as velvet in her ear, rubbing his cock up against her ass— “but me, remember?”

Ari chuckled lowly despite herself, remembering how much his tongue had boldly ran away from him the last time they fucked. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

#weeping monk #the weeping monk #daniel sharman #the weeping monk fanfic #the weeping monk fanfiction #cursed netflix #cursed fanfic #cursed fanfiction #the weeping monk x oc #weeping monk x oc #lancelot #lancelot x oc #fantasy #romantasy #magic #powers

[leftingbadly]

holy man. | the weeping monk

After fighting for his life against a woman he once knew as a child, imagery of a burning village rushed to the forefront of his mind, and the weeping monk was forced to face one of his greatest regrets.

pairing: the weeping monk x ofc

-;

An unloving embrace took hold of him, the cold chill of the forest settled within his body and the trees whispered their unwelcome, his bones rattled beneath a dead gaze and on his knees he stood before her, as she had once stood before him, defenseless and broken. 

“Are you so afraid?” Her voice taunted him from behind shut eyelids, whispering the words he had seethed to her ages ago, when he was just a child and she was younger than that, and he had driven a sword through the flesh and bone of her mother and set her home afire with the flames of God, and drums bellowed so loudly in his ears he was sure death would embrace him.

“Not of you, you witch.” Despite his anger, his pain and his remorse, practiced words slipped from his mouth, the prayer rolled from his lips like metal against glass and his teeth shuddered as they slipped through, “God will protect me.”

“And yet your voice wavers,” her laughter began again, withered and bruised, “You have forsaken your own people for a God in whom you barely trust!” A disbelieving scoff, he blanched from her words, thought but never spoken aloud, he reveled in the truth of it, he cradled it to him as though they were the last truthful things he would ever hear, but he did not show it. He knew the punishment of hesitance towards Him.

“I do not fear you, devil-kin.”

“Devil-kin!” She crouched before him, “What then does that make you? Are you saved, oh holy man? Are you relinquished of the grasp the devil once held you in? Hear how the trees moan their anger,” she tilted his head up, her hands as equally bloodied as his face, “behold the forest, through those weeping eyes, and hear how your past rejects you.” A gaping hole formed within the bottom-most pit of his stomach, a hole that would swallow him from the inside. He shut his eyes to the sway of the trees, and steeled his skin from the wind of the forest.

“Please…” his voice had never sounded so broken to his ears, not before the Father with is whips and hot swords, never before the guards that had beaten him when he was young, yet before this woman now, who peeled his skin from his bones and throttled his soul, he felt the forest within him again, the woods that called to him, he felt it hard and clamoring and claiming, oh how it claimed him.

She stood an arms length from him, strong arms held onto a bloodied sword, and a heaving chest hosted a broken soul, she was as lost as he was, he saw, as broken, as pained. He wished to be anyone but himself then, and he wished she was anyone but herself. In that way, in any ounce of what good may befall broken souls, they could have saved each other’s souls from what evil had been wrought into it. She inhaled deeply, and the grip on her hilt tightened, “Pray to your God then, holy man,” she raised the blade above her head, “and behold your abandonment.”

#cursed #tv show #tv series #the weeping monk #Daniel Sharman #the weeping monk imagine #the weeping monk x reader #the weeping monk x oc #merlin #fantasy #writing #books #literature #authors #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic

[grabmyboner]

Gamer!Troy x Influencer!Nick

requested: @zzplxtozz Trick, social media Au, where Troy is a streamer or something of the sort.

more social media aus!

#trick #nick clark #Troy Otto #troy x nick #fear the walking dead #ftwd fanfic #daniel sharman #social media au #my fic #my edit #mine #trick sm au

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 30

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: To Taste The Dawn

Notes: /

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +200K

Chapter:  30/ It’s a secret.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Just a moment!” You called out.

Lancelot looked at you for what he should do.

Dammit. You’d never had to hide someone in your room before. If your father saw him here…

You took him by the arm and leaded him along. “Hide behind the door. Don’t make a sound.”

With a hand against his chest, you planted him against the wall beside the door, ignoring the smirk and intrigued look he gave in response to it.

It should not have been so amusing for him to be shoved behind the door of your chamber like this. If Helio saw him here and now, his smile would surely leave him quite fast.

It made no sense to rub your cheek clean with your sleeve, it’s not like your father would have been able to tell what had been going on.

Still…

You opened the door to find him standing there with a plate in hand, “Father?”

He seemed to be a bit uncertain about it.

“I noticed you have missed dinner.” Helio held out the plate for you to take.

The plate was filled with things that did look quite delicious. In the past, if you ‘forgot’ dinner, your punishment was to go to bed hungry. If it hadn’t been for your mother, that rule would have undoubtedly been followed. Yet, here he was, bringing you a meal to eat.

You didn’t really know what to say while taking the plate other than, “Thank you.”

Helio was glad that you accepted the gesture. “I have send you to bed hungry many a night, yet I never asked how it was that you always forgot to eat.”

“My head was always up in the clouds.” It was no lie.

He sounded almost remorseful, “I should have been there more, to ask you to come down to the ground when it was time to eat.”

You didn’t want him to believe you thought he had failed you. “I know you had enough on your mind with keeping everyone here safe, and I was a stubborn child.”

“Was?” He jested.

Alright, fine, that was fair.

Helio did not wish to leave without saying what he had come to say, “Your mother and I, we love you, never forget that.” He stepped away from the door. “Good night, Little Moon.”

You’d almost forgotten about the plate in your hands. “Good night, father.”

As he walked away, you did not move into the room until you no longer saw him. After closing the door behind you, Lancelot moved to stand against it a little, mostly to make sure someone wouldn’t barge in after all.

“He means it, you know that?” He told.

“I believe it.” You placed the plate on your bedside table, “Even if we sometimes don’t see eye to eye.”

You turned to see him with his hand on the doorknob, “Leaving already?”

It was with reluctance that he made the decision. “I should.”

“In case my father returns?” You barely bit back a grin.

The look he had confirmed it, “I will see you tomorrow, yes?”

After what you had learned tonight? Without question.

“Preferably.” You told him.

He saw the small grin dancing on your lips. “Sleep well then, I shall find you tomorrow.”

With a polite inclination of the head, he bid you a goodnight and carefully left the room. That heightened sense of smell could sure come in handy when it was to sneak around a fort filled with Feys. Or to avoid enraging a father after sneaking out of the daughter’s room at night…

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

In the morning, the first thing you did was make sure that Squirrel and Ciro were awake as well, you took them with you to the dining hall for breakfast.

While arriving at the door of the dining hall, you ran into Matthew. He only wished you and the children a good morning, then held the door open for the three of you.

“Thank you.” You acknowledged the kind action, and walked into the room with the children.

You didn’t have to tell them to go sit down, they were at a table in seconds. Mirena scolded them a little because they were eating before their behind even touched a chair. Squirrel sat down beside Ciro, and you sat down beside Squirrel and chose a piece of bread to eat with some fruit.

Helio was in a concentrated conversation with some of the knights, but gave a nod in your direction to greet you, you send a smile his way.

You were staring off in the distance while chewing your meal, when you heard the empty chair next to you move. Seeing Matthew take seat beside you nearly made you lose your appetite.

“You are right to hate me for what I did.” He sought to speak to you.

You looked to Squirrel and Ciro beside you, and hissed at Matthew, “Here? Really?”

He dropped to a whisper, one filled with remorse, “I am so sorry, y/n, for the pain I have caused you.”

It did sound like he was being honest to. With a nod, you recognized the apology. It didn’t mean you had to forgive him yet. He said not another word and let you eat in peace, which was unexpected, usually he would be more driven to keep a conversation going. That in itself, you considered an improvement in his character.

The meal went by peacefully, apart from some innocent shenanigans between Squirrel and Ciro that was.

Lancelot wasn’t present for the meal, which did not surprise you. He still kept to himself most of the time, allowing those around them to adjust to his presence at the fort. After breakfast you went to search for him, last night still in mind.

It still felt surreal, to come this far together and now a new path was opening. An unknown path, but one you were willing to walk with him.

One of the older knights walked up to you and pulled your attention back to the present, “Y/n, there is news from outside the village. The family of the carpenter has requested your presence at their home, they are too sick to travel here themselves. Will you go?”

You did not have to think long about agreeing. “Of course. I will fetch my horse and go. Please, tell my mother I will be back by nightfall.”

“Of course.” The knight said, then headed in the direction of the dining hall.

You headed to the stables, while also quietly hoping you’d see the Ash Man before you left.

At the stables, you heard a strange noise coming from inside. It sounded like scratching and things being thrown around, not the sort of noises you had heard from horses before.

It had spooked you, and with caution you stepped inside, “Hello? Anyone here?”

No reply came. Part of you just wanted to turn and bolt, but you needed to fetch your horse. Dammit…

It felt silly to draw your sword, but you’d rather be safe than sorry. The horses seemed calm, even though the noise continued.

You located the source of the sound at the very back of the stables, “Who’s there?”

Still no reply… Dammit…

Intimidation it was. “I’m warning you! I am armed!”

The noise simply stopped for a second, then started all over again. You had heard and read too many stories of spirits and it was not working in your favor now. With a deep breath, you went towards the noise, sword ready in hand.

All of a sudden a cat jumped down from a high stack of straw and landed close to your feet, you landed in a stack of hay from pure fright. The cat looked at you for a moment, judging you, then just left at a walking pace.

Your poor heart was running at the speed of a galloping horse as you dragged yourself up from the hay and back up on your feet. Your jacket and trousers were covered in it, and you tried to get as much off of it as you could.

From what you could see, the cat must have been busy catching the rodents that often housed in the stables, and from the looks of it the straw had been an excellent place to sleep.

You looked at the sword in your hand, feeling rather silly for comparing those sounds to those of old spirit tales. A faint noise came from right behind you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Still filled with adrenaline, it send you right into defense mode.

You had your ‘assailant’ against a wooden pillar, with your sword against his throat mere seconds later. Not a blink later you regretted how quick you had become to defend yourself after all that had happened.

The widened eyes of the Ash Man looked back at your shaking form.

“Gods…” You released him immediately, sword falling to the ground.

He was so taken off-guard that he didn’t move from the pillar.

The shock of it rushed through you, “Are you mad?! Why are you sneaking up on me like that?! I could have killed you!”

Lancelot only watched how you scolded him for it, unable to fight the cheeky smirk that grew on his lips.

A hot flush spread from his torso through the rest of his body like fire. It had been a while since someone was able to overpower and corner him like this, and he didn’t expect it to be you of all people. The reaction it had caused in him was not one of fear.

The genuine fear of almost having hurt him was present in your eyes. You even took a step back to stop yourself from shaking.

He remained standing still while watching you.”I thought you were in trouble. Who were you talking to?”

His brows drew together while looking around the stable.

It felt a bit awkward to admit it, “A cat apparently.”

The smirk grew. “Should I be concerned?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.”

He dared to let out a doubtful hum. “Do Dawn Folk understand animals?”

You had almost killed him, and he thought it to be the perfect time to get on your nerves.

“You are the worst.” You scoffed a little.

Finally, he stepped away from the pillar and bend down to pick up your sword, putting it back into your hands.

“Thank you.” It was a sigh. “Sorry for putting a sword to your throat. I really didn’t known it was you.”

The smirk still danced on his lips intriguingly. “Rather impressive that you have enough strength to push me the way that you did.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, “You… do you think I’m not strong?”

He knew exactly what his words would cause, “You are stronger than you look.”

Was he really trying to rile you up after that?

“I look weak to you?!” You snapped.

The daring look in his eyes said it all, someone had woken up with a wish to get some attention by any means.

Even though it was tempting to join him in this playful state, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Ugh. Go find someone else to play with, Ash Man. I have to go and help a family.”

You walked towards the mare you had stolen back at the paladin camp. A whistle of his rider was all Goliath needed to hear to block your path to the mare.

“Seriously?” You turned to Lancelot, the sword still loose in your hand.

He stepped to your side, brushing a hand along Goliath’s nose to reward him, “Will you not invite me to accompany you?”

Well, you did want to, but there was a problem. “My father does not want to see you leave the hill.”

He could not hide his disappointment, “What if I asked your mother for lenience?”

You chuckled at that. “You’d ask my mother, because you know my father would say ‘no’.”

With a tilt of his head, he pleaded to you.

You let out a sigh. “If my mother agrees, my father won’t be so inclined to shove you into the dungeons for a while. You may ask.”

Lancelot seemed quite confident that Mirena would agree to let him accompany you.

You began to walk past him, to move around Goliath to get to your horse. He quickly caught your hand and used it to reel you in.

“Before I do that…” He softly squeezed your arm.

You turned your body to his, eyes glued on the way he was touching you. It was such a small thing and it was enough to send a tremble through your body that you tried to suppress.

He cupped the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw and stopping at the corner of your mouth. You felt his fingertips touch the back of your scalp, urging you closer.

There was no time to process it, he leaned in and his lips rained down on yours, it was a meeting long awaited, warm and welcome as one could hope for.

He held back in fear of being too rough. Tasting the Fey scent off your lips that had tempted him for weeks. All the yearning finally met it’s recipient, and he could not part with the softness that your lips had to offer.

“Lance-” You were not given the change to speak.

His mouth caressed yours, his arm hooked around your waist. The sword fell to the floor again as you pulled him closer. An invitation he took full advantage off, he left no space between you and let out a content deep hum. You tasted him carefully, matching his pace. His fingers gingerly massaged the back of your scalp as the kiss deepened, it felt like being rewarded and you gave in to the feeling he awoke inside.

All you craved was more, to be closer, to be held. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, locking him in.

He broke away, not even to breathe, only to stare in quiet disbelief. This was real, it was truly happening and neither could fully comprehend it.

Your hand was on the back of his neck and pulled him in again. Mouths colliding with the same eagerness, the same fierceness and greed. A shudder ran down your spine, strong enough to weaken your knees. He felt so good, he tasted so good, it was an overload to all senses and you wanted nothing more than to be consumed by it.

There was something underneath his gentleness that warned off burning passion threatening to spill, his fingers clenched the leather of your jacket between them.

When your mouths parted, shuddering breaths warmed skin. His forehead touched yours, to delight in the memory together.

Your eyes were still closed, your nose tenderly brushed against the tip of his. “I’ve never done that before.”

His fingers stroked your cheek, tracing your jaw. “I have not either.”

“I am glad it’s with you.” You leaned back a little and felt your heart swell at the sight of his eyes now. They were darker, deeper, focused.

It was so easy to forget everything around you, and you shook your head when remembering why you were even at the stables now.

With great reluctance you freed yourself from his hold. “I have to go, that family is waiting for my help. If you want to come, go and ask my mother for her permission.”

Lancelot handed you Goliath’s reins. “I will be back in a moment.”

You nodded and saw him walk out of the stables at quite a fast pace.

Whilst waiting for him to return, you readied the horses and led them out of the stables.

And waited…

You mounted your horse, getting anxious that this could be precious time ticking away. Finally, he passed under the gate and went right towards Goliath.

“What did she say?” You called out.

He recited Mirena’s words. “To stop wasting time and go.”

That did sound like something she would say.

Lancelot pulled himself up into the saddle. “Do you now the way there?”

You send him a look. “I do. Fear not, we won’t get lost, I grew up here.”

Without having to steer the horse, Goliath began to walk beside your mare.

Lancelot was quick to catch on as to why that was. “I believe Goliath is quite enamored with that mare of yours.”

It was impossible to miss. “He is. Good taste. Just like his rider.”

You send him a grin, seeing that sun bright smile overtake his being. Surely there was not enough sunlight today to have caused that redness to his cheeks now.

Some comfortable quiet minutes passed by. Once down the hill, he asked, “The book you left at my door that night. Have you read it?”

There had been times where you had the chance to read a bit of it. “I only got the first few pages in and thought it was interesting. Why?”

Interesting was one term he’d use for it.

He swallowed audibly. “No reason.”

The poor lying was something he needed to work on, because it was so obvious. “Just so you know, I know you just lied to me.”

Lancelot sighed quietly, finding it hard to speak of such matters out loud. “At the end of the book, it has descriptions of intimacy.”

It still needed a couple of seconds to dawn on you what that meant, it clicked when you saw how he was trying to keep his eyes on the path ahead.

Oh… gods…

You had given such a book, to a man who was raised in the clergy… how mortifying.

You immediately voiced your regret, “I’m sorry. Had I known, I would have picked another one. I’d never want you to feel uncomfortable, or corrupt you.”

Corrupt? That was quite amusing to hear.

He tried to make light of it. “They do not write such things in the scriptures.”

If he was trying to make you feel flustered, he had succeeded.

“Sorry.” You hid your face in the palm of your hand, the embarrassment was strong.

He saw the humorous side of it, despite the initial surprise it had offered. “I used to stay away from what the scriptures warned us for.”

You regretted giving him the book. “Until I came along, and left books at your door.”

Lancelot hushed your worries. “It was a thoughtful gesture, one I cherish.”

That was sweet of him, in the past your small gestures of affection had gone ignored by others, but he did notice and appreciated them.

You wondered how this vow influenced the daily life of someone who had taken it, “The vow you took, can you explain it to me more?”

It took some effort from him to do so, these thing were never openly discussed within the circles of the Church. “It was expected of those who had taken the Vow of Celibacy to avoid all temptation, it is believed it kept us focused on serving god and the mission. Such books, even songs, all of it were seen as sinful.”

The Church struck fear into the hearts of their followers, how expected.

Still, it interested you to hear how it had altered his view on things, “They would punish you for reading it?”

He gave a nod, the punishment for breaking the vow was depended on the ‘crime’. “They would burn the book, and the scourge would need to cleanse it’s influence off me.”

You feared he would feel the need to do so again after the book, “Do you believe you deserve the scourge for feeling something that is natural?”

It was such a personal thing to speak off.

“What was taught to me, lingers like a thorn in my mind. And-.” His sudden silence showed that he was about to say something he might regret.

Seeing how his eyes drifted down to his hands, stung at your heart.

“Something is troubling you. I can tell.” Your worry was clear to him.

He took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was to say. “The thorn sits into me. Stinging every time I give into what I was taught to forgo. I fear it will continue doing so as we proceed our lives together.”

You didn’t really know what to say, was it fair to him to proceed this path together if it caused him this concern?

Lancelot must have seen that you were troubled by his confession. “I need time to break myself free from the vow I made. And I will. For I will not let my past come between us.”

He was trying so hard to fight the man the Church had wanted him to be.

You gave him a soft smile for his honesty. “Thank you for telling me. It helps me understand your view on things better.”

He began to ride a little closer to you. “You have a right to know, this concerns the both of us. I will not expect for you to stay if I cannot offer you what you wish for.”

It broke your heart to hear him say it. “Don’t say that. I won’t ask anything of you that you’re not comfortable with, I know you wouldn’t ask it off me either. My heart is yours as long as you will have it.”

You held out your hand, fishing for his that were busy holding Goliath’s reins. With some comical effort, you caught one and it seemed that he was oblivious until then to what your intent had been.

His thumb brushed along your knuckles. “If it occurs that I hesitate, know that it is not your fault.”

You understood where the hesitation would come from. “It must have been difficult for you to kiss me. But, I did not notice you hesitate.”

He shared a secret kept, “I did not hesitate this time.”

That sure caught your curiosity, “Are you referring to the feast?”

He released your hand, feeling comfortable enough to share some secrets with you, “There were other times.”

All those moments where he had been close to you lately, how many of those had been filled with his desire to kiss you? He was slowly getting more comfortable in his skin and it showed.

“And you finally did.” You grinned.

His gaze dropped to his hands again. “The only regret I have is that I did not do it sooner.”

“We’ll make up for lost time.” You cheekily told him.

The way his eyes suddenly widened at you was glorious, it was such an innocent youthful expression.

It took him a moment to give the smug reply, “You sound quite confident about it.”

You didn’t know until then that you had it in you to offer him a suggestive look that made him fall silent immediately. He looked away and swallowed loudly.

“Just so you know, you don’t have to finish that book just because I gave it to you.” You told him.

“I already did.” He quietly said.

You couldn’t resist asking, “Was it good?”

He looked at you from the corner of his eyes and saw how hard you were trying to bite back your coy smile.

“Do you want to tell me some off it?” You teased.

His eyes narrowed. “I would not dare spoil the book for you, read it for yourself and we can talk about it afterwards.”

Oh, what a clever way to avoid the topic…

A light chuckle fell from you. “Very well.”

He was quick to change the direction of the conversation to avoid the matter of the book. “I wonder, have you told your parents that you brought me back from the dead?”

You snorted incredulous. “Absolutely not. I’d never hear the end of that if they knew.”

Any other would believe themselves to be a god with such power. Yet, here you were, barely speaking of it.

He understood why you did not tell others, this could change the world and perhaps not for the better, “Perhaps it is wise not to speak of it. Such power would be exploited in the hands of the wrong people. I will not share your secret.”

It was not only the fear of having to live your life in service of others, it was also the responsibility it forced on you. “It isn’t just that. It felt like going against nature itself and I don’t really know how I feel about it.”

“You do not feel worthy to be the one to make such decisions.” He stated it.

You nodded. “The dawn stands for rebirth to the Fey, and with my clan’s healing abilities the connection was made. I just never thought that an old legend like bringing others back from the dead was true.”

He was pensive. “If the legend of your clan is true, perhaps there is truth to mine as well.”

It had piqued your interest, little was known of his clan, “What is the legend of the Ash Folk?”

He sounded like he did not truly believe in the legend, “That we were once able to create green fire, and with it weapons of great power were forged. It was on the page you gave me.”

“Fey Fire existed, you know?” You wondered, because he didn’t seem to see the importance of what he was telling you.

He looked at your face, “Fey fire?”

Gods… he did not know?

“Green fire born of magic. Even now the Fey still pray for it’s return. It is said that the sorcerer Merlin has wielded weapons forged by Fey Fire centuries ago.”

Centuries?!?

“The sorcerer is immortal?” He blurted out.

The Church must have kept a lot of secrets from even their own.

“He has been alive for a long time. So yes, they believe he is.” You told him.

He took a moment to think, then asked, “Do you believe that… the Ash Folk created Fey Fire?”

It sounded like it. “The legend of your people does point to that.”

What other knowledge had the Church managed to erase of his clan? Knowledge that he may never encounter again, lost to the world for eternity.

His expression turned downcast, eyes on the path ahead but his mind elsewhere, “The only thing that remains of my clan, is a man who was taught to forsake it.”

“You are enough, Lancelot.” You told him upon seeing the reaction. “Even if you were not Fey at all, you are enough. A good heart is what this world needs and you have one.”

Together you rode into the village, it did not need to be said out loud that it was wise to avoid discussing sensitive topics whilst there.

He looked grateful for your kind words. “As long as I have your faith, I shall believe I am on the right path.”

You were pleased to hear it. “Good. Once we are out of the village, I think I will offer my horse some exercise, do you believe Goliath is prepared for it too?”

There was no doubt in his mind. “We will be right behind you.”

With a playful grin, you warned him of what was to come. It wasn’t long before you came at the end of the village and spurred the mare into a gallop. That surge of freedom fueled her energy to the bone and she darted through the trees much faster than she had ever done before. As expected, Goliath followed her without much encouragement from his rider.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

By the time you arrived at the carpenter, the mare had made sure that you were covered in fallen leaves. The afternoon sun offered some comforting warmth against fall’s cold breeze.

Your feet hit the ground not far from the carpenter’s house, and when Lancelot dismounted you handed him the reins of the mare. “It’s best if you wait here. I don’t know if they have heard the news about you yet.”

He understood, these people were ill and his presence could cause them further distress. “Call out if you need me.”

You gave a grateful nod, then proceeded to walk towards the house. With a few knocks to the nicely engraved wooden door, it was opened by the carpenter’s wife ‘Greta’.

Her graying hairs came from under a shawl she wore, she appeared to shiver. “The gods have mercy on us. I am so glad to see you here, Dawn Woman.”

You stepped into the house as she let you in. “I received word I was wanted here. You appear ill, Greta.”

She nodded, and explained what troubled her, “My husband and children, they’ve all fallen ill. I cannot get their fever down, I’ve tried everything. Please, help us!”

You put a hand on her shoulder to comfort and heal. “I will help you first, before you get any sicker.”

She would have objected, but your eyes glowed green already. The shiver that had been running over her skin was now felt on your own.

“Where are they?” You asked.

Greta quickly thanked you for healing her, and led you to the children’s room. A boy and girl laid curled up under the covers of their beds, sweat forming on their foreheads. You hurried over to them and offered your help to the barely conscious children. The energy it took was not so bad, but the phantom fever you received by it was. By the time you were done healing them, and they had gotten a more healthy glow to their skin, you were on your knees recovering.

Greta who was overjoyed to see her children alert and well, became concerned upon seeing you, “Are you alright? Do you want some water?”

That sounded like a good idea. “Yes, please.”

She hurried out the room and returned with a tankard of water that you drank in only a few gulps.

By supporting your elbow on one of the beds, you got to your feet safely, “Your husband?”

Greta gestured for you to follow and brought you to their bedroom. The carpenter was in the same condition as his children had been, forehead covered in sweat and barely responsive. You took hold of his hand and held on for as long as it took to heal him. It took longer than it took to heal the children, whom you could already hear laughing in the other room, finally his skin returned to a healthy glow. The first thing he said was his wife’s name, who embraced him immediately. You put a hand against the wall to keep yourself on your feet.

Greta shared her gratefulness with you, “Thank you, y/n. We will never forget what you’ve done for us. How can we ever repay you?”

The sound of children’s laughter filled the home and made you smile. “That sound, is worth more than any payment I could ask for.”

The Carpenter smiled and gave a grateful nod.

You left the family to rejoice at their renewed health, and returned to the waiting Ash Man. Even from outside you could hear the ruckus the children were already causing, it was moments like this that you believed you were making a difference in the world. Lancelot stood against a tree, hearing how the once eerily quite house was now filled with the sound of playing children.

You could have exploited your gift. Made allies with the most powerful people across the lands. But here you were, helping anyone who was in need of help without asking anything in return. Such selflessness was a rare thing he had experienced. No wonder his heart was so drawn to yours.

“All well?” He inquired, when you stopped at your horse to fish your flask of water out of the saddlebag.

You shook your head a little and took a sip. “It feels like their fever has come over me.”

Concern washed over his features, “Will you be able to ride?”

You closed the flask, nodding. “Let’s head home.”

He was watching you like a hawk and as you tried to hoist yourself into the saddle, your legs lacked the strength to do so. Lancelot was behind you instantly, using his form to prevent you from stumbling back and falling.

He hooked an arm around you. “Stop. You’ll fall if you keep trying.”

You held on to the hand he had on your stomach. “I made a knight tell my mother I’d be home by nightfall.”

He hushed that worry, “She would want you to return home well, and not risk your health.”

That was true…

“Come.” He made you walk beside him, leading the horses along, creating a distance between yourselves and the carpenter’s house.

Once the trees offered some discretion, he urged you to sit on the grass until you felt a little more secure on your feet.

You enjoyed feeling some of the sun warming your skin, the smell of grass reaching your nostrils. “I will always fear that my parents will think I’m back in a dungeon somewhere if I return home late. I don’t want them to worry so much. That’s why I don’t want to tell them what I experienced, I don’t want to hurt them.”

Lancelot knelt down beside you. “You never fully told me what happened during your time in the dungeon with the Brothers.”

It was true, he knew some of it. That you were forced to heal people and were not treated well. But you had spared him most of the details.

It felt strange to keep it buried, as if it was a secret never to see the light. And you wanted this to see the light, to let it be open in the world and not locked into your mind for it to fester like a wound.

“I was in darkness for weeks, " You sighed. “sometimes I saw some light coming from under the door from a torch. But mostly, darkness. Even now, when I awake in the night in my room, there is a moment where I think I’m still there in that dark cell. Until I see the window I am overcome by dread.”

When Lancelot remained quiet, you continued.

“Hutch and Ives never let me out of that room. They brought people to me to heal, received their payment and then left me there to suffer the reaction my body had on exerting my magic. Sometimes, before fainting, I thought I would not wake up again. Sometimes I hoped I wouldn’t.”

Lancelot shifted, too quiet after that revelation.

You were hoping for death?

A knot formed in your stomach at his reaction, part of you wanted to take it back but it was too late.

When he broke the silence, his tone barely hid his silent anger. “I would not have given them such a quick death had I known.” Regret washed over him once more. “I took you away from them, and then I harmed you.”

That day, he had cut your hand to see if you’d heal yourself, only to find that it was not within your abilities to do so. “You didn’t know. And I wasn’t up for conversation with you back then.”

He blinked too fast, betraying his remorse over it nonetheless.

“I was cruel.”

“Not as cruel as they were.”

His eyes turned to you, having heard the undertone and realizing there was more you had yet to tell.

You sighed once more. “The day before you took me out of that dungeon, Ives got too familiar with me. He was trying to bribe me with some bread, hoping I’d take off my clothes in return. Then Hutch came in with someone I needed to heal.”

Lancelot’s jaw tensed, fist clenching hard.

They had died far, far, too quickly.

Memories of your time in the dungeon were pouring in, drowning the air out, forcing the words to the surface.

“Most of the time they just hurt me, hit me, kick me, spit on me.” Recalling it made your stomach turn. “And as I bled from my injuries, they made me heal others.”

A bitter chuckle escaped you at the memory of the madness. It was that bitterness that forced the memories out. “One time Hutch struck me, and while blood was running down from my nose, covering my lips and chin, I had to heal a man who’s nose was bleeding after a fight.”

Your eyes pressed shut, palms pressed to your face. You heard Lancelot move. The warmth of his hands came to rest on your arms, gently trying to take the shield away they formed.

And when your distant eyes lifted from the ground, tears were brimming in his. The heavens were weeping, casting their rain down to cascade along the tears that were sealed into his skin by his heritage.

It was not the first time you suspected that he had survived a treatment similar to your own. You felt it in your bones, the Ash Man was reliving his past by hearing yours.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead, once… twice…

Forehead resting on yours, eyes shut, whilst whispering, “If I could go back to that day with what I know now, I would cut them apart. Limb by limb. A cut for every bruise and wound they inflicted on you.”

The grim jest passed your lips. “They would have run out of body parts rather quickly.”

He did not laugh, nor chuckle, every word he said was meant and true. This was no laughing matter to him. “I would have found a solution to that problem.”

It was so easy, so simple, to forget the danger that lurked in the man holding your arms so delicately.

He leaned back, letting a silence fall that you both needed, he brought a hand to your neck and let the pads of his fingers massage away some of the tension on the back of it.

You felt lighter, so much lighter, now that you had been able to speak of what you had gone through.

“I’m glad you’re with me. I would have dragged myself home on time if I had to.” You said.

He withdrew his hand and slowly rose from the ground. “They know you will return to them. Do not fear that they will think you have left them forever.”

It reminded you of what your mother had said. “The last time, they thought I had run off with you.”

He chuckled, recalling the moment of Mirena’s welcome. “I could tell. Your mother has a strong left hook.”

You winced at the memory. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve never seen my mother hit anyone before.”

The smile he had proved that he bore no grudges. “I know where you get your fighting spirit from now.”

With soft laughter you got up from the grass, he was there to support your elbow as you did. “Let’s go and avoid another such situation.”

You climbed into the saddle whilst he kept a watchful eye.

He was still concerned, “If you become unwell, tell me so I can aid you. Alright?”

That habit of him to worry about others more than himself made you tease, “Yes, Sir.”

You received a stern look from him, but he didn’t manage to hold it for long.

He returned to Goliath, mounting swiftly. “After you.”

The mare was eager to measure her speed against Goliath once more and you let her sprint to her heart’s content.

The sound of someone crying out for help made you put the mare to a sudden halt. Goliath had been going so fast that he darted past you and Lancelot came to a halt a few feet away from you.

“What is wrong?” Lancelot saw you look around.

You shushed him. “I heard someone call out for help.”

A scream of a child, calling out to their father, echoed through the forest. You steered the mare and galloped towards the sound.

Lancelot caught up with you and took the reins of the mare, slowing her down to a stop. “Slow down, if there is danger up ahead we must not make our presence known to them.”

Together you decided to dismount, leaving the horses in the safety of the forest, and proceed further on foot. He drew his sword, expecting trouble at the origin of the sound.

A glimpse of red and you ducked behind a tree for cover. Red Paladins were dragging a family of Tusks out of their home. An elder, and two adults who were begging them to spare their daughter, their pleas fell to deaf ears.

“We have to help them.” You quietly drew your sword.

Lancelot was behind an oak and scanning the area.

There was no other way to save the Fey other than confronting the paladins. Among them were two young paladins he had once taught a thing or two, and now he saw them put those lessons to use.

When Lancelot appeared conflicted towards the situation, a hint of panic planted itself inside of you.

“Lancelot.” You whispered.

He barely dared to look in your direction, and when he finally did, you saw the conflict in his eyes.

Had he known these paladins personally? Was it why he seemed so reluctant to head over there?

If nothing was done, these Feys would die. If that was not enough inclination for him to help them…

He was waiting too long…

It was upsetting to see him hesitate, your next whisper to him was harsh. “I’m going over there, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I pray you come to realize that those paladins are about to murder innocent people. Your people!”

You were gone before he could think to stop you.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten​​ @the-great-adventures-of-me​ @linkpk88​​  @fxrchxldws​​  @elenaoftheturks​​ @slytherlight​​ @beananacake​​    @crystallizedtime​​  @moonlightaura03​​  @angrygardendeer​​  @have-aheart​​   @5am-cigarette​​ @arcanenature​​  @thewinterskywalker​​ @notyourwildestdream​​ @coloursforyourportrait​​ @koressecretidentity​​ @nike90​​ @n1ghtlux​​ @rachlovesactors​​ @luckyzipperscissorsbat​​ @morena-doing-stuff​​  @the-fangirl-diaries​​ @gipsydanger17​​ @heavenly1927​​  @phantasmalbeiing  @labyrinthonmymind  @asarcastic-thiamstan​​  @rainyv-skies @kissingandromeda @stclairesplace @​​katjusja @isla-bell-blog @beebeerockknot

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

#the weeping monk #weeping monk #cursed netflix #cursed #weeping monk x reader #weeping monk x you #cursed lancelot #lancelot x reader #lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #daniel sharman character #daniel sharman fanfic

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

2 Of A Kind Ch. 3

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +SMUT (read at your own risk. I'm nobody's mom) +Fem receiving

There may or may not be a part 4... need to see how people feel about it. ALSO! Shoutout to all the GIF makers out there for giving me so many options and I love you all... I still feel the need to use the same one repeatedly, but you all help me fight that urge!

This is made for THIS anon request!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“Can I help you with that?”

Troy’s eyes grew dark, feeling his senses begin to tunnel into her and her alone. The woman merely smiled, adjusting herself under the blanket to the side. Her cheeks burned with a fury of confusion and anticipation as she stared back into the blue eyes watching her. “I mean-” Troy shuffled his feet lazily towards the right side of the mattress, closest to the woman. “You helped me so it’s only polite of me to offer my assistance. That is - if you want me to help. Not to be frank but, I could do a bit better than what you were doing.” Troy cocked his head to the side with a crooked smile when the woman scoffed exaggeratingly at his remark. It had been some time, if ever, that anyone had made him feel like this.

Powerful.

“Come’er,” She whispered to him, a voice sending shivers down his spine, but Troy followed her order. The mattress slunk down from his weight, dipping the two into one pothole in the middle. Her fingers ghosted over his hand, the wound on it open to the warm air. His eyes flinched at the sting that rang up his extremity as she placed the hand to her lips, gently kissing the inflamed skin while looking up at him through dark eyelashes. with a twist of his hand, Troy caressed the woman’s cheek, feeling the heat radiate from her dewy skin. Their eyes never broke until Troy lowered his gaze to her lips, softer than he thought they’d be, swiping one calloused digit across the delicate flesh.

With a smooth lick of his lips, Troy initiated the kiss. Pressing his flesh upon her own, feeling her warmth and hearing the ever-so-silent moan that escaped her lips against his. He thought about going slow. He thought about taking it easy with her and not being so forceful, but the sound she made turned him into something more than he thought he was. Deepening the kiss, Troy licked at her bottom lip begging for permission.

Denied.

He could feel her lips pull at the sides, smirking against his touch. This was a game.

A hand found its way to the base of her neck, his fingers dancing along her spine until she felt his way into her hair. Troy took a handful of lush locks, pulling it into a fist. Her body began to arch as her neck pulled back just enough to gain his awaiting tongue entry. His body began to barrel over her as she was lost in the feelings. She wasn’t one to ever relinquish control… yet, here she was. Allowing a stranger control over her body, and she liked it.

As Troy’s tongue ventured into the walls of her mouth, his free hand found its way up her chest, burning fingerprints into the skin he began to expose. With one final nip to her bottom lip, Troy backed away, his lips at least. His eyes regained control again, watching her once-hardened eyes turn soft and needy. The look she gave him through those dark eyelashes gave him the feeling of warmth… possessive… needed.

Fully collapsing into the soft sheet below, the woman gave up her fight. His touch felt too good to push away.

Watching his head dip below her chin, she felt his lips once again burn into her skin, just below her collarbone. His tongue swirled with small suctions traveling lower and lower. His nimble fingers pulled the blanket she was hiding under exposing both breasts to his full view. Troy glanced up, his fingers pinching the sensitive skin of her nipples.

He wanted to see her face as she let him do everything he wanted.

He wanted to see her vulnerable. He wanted to see her as his.

After a little while, he couldn’t take it any longer. Seeing her skin raised in goosebumps and her nipples formed into full points, Troy replaced his fingers with his lips. He hadn’t thought he had an oral fixation before, but the way his cock begged for his lips to have her, any part of her, was beginning to make the brunette re-think that. Her voice jumped when he sucked in a breath against her, biting harder than he had before. Her fingers weaved through the curly locks on Troy’s scalp, tugging ever so much with each moan that escaped her. Troy hadn’t realized that his hand had already found her most sensitive region until she shook under his grasp.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait!” She exclaimed, her fingers lifting his chin to look back at her. “If you’re going there, then I need something other than ‘fuck-boy’ to scream. So what’ll it be?”

Troy smirked, a devilish smirk, with one arm under his weight to keep him raised above her form. The hand that was at her core swiped the saliva from his lips before ghosting down her body, once more resting where he could see a glint of her slick dripping from. His eyes watched her skin react to his touch the entire time, her scars rough and coarse before his fingertips met more soft skin. He thought about toying with her, prolonging her wait for any form of identity of him, but he wanted to hear his name echo on those walls just as bad as she wanted sweet release.

“I’m Troy.”

As soon as he spoke, Troy delved two fingers into her core. Her hands fisted into his hair as he did so. He watched as her entire body arched from the mattress and her lips enchanted the delight of moaning his name. Enjoying the sight before him, Troy watched as she came to orgasm. His digits glided in and out of her sodden core, stretching the walls of her pussy farther with each spasm she had. As she began to clamp down, his thumb rubbed circles through her clit, only causing even more mess as she finally climaxed with a squirt of fluids soaking the bedding below her sweat-slickened skin.

She was a mess, a hot uncontrollable mess as she came back down from her high. She had completely forgotten she was even in company until she felt one strong arm tighten over her belly and soft curls itch across her cheeks. Troy knew she needed a little time, so kept himself busy making bruises to last her a few days on her neck. Once he felt her heart rate slow against his touch, he pulled back to look upon the magnificent work he had done. One arm, again held him up as the other moved slickened hair from the woman’s face. His eyes peered over her lips as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from dazing before meeting her watchful gaze.

“I suppose I should thank you.” She spoke quietly, much softer than normal. Her mouth upturned into a shy smile before turning to look at the ceiling. Troy chuckled tenderly. This woman wasn’t at all who he thought she would be as he peeled back layer after layer.

“There’s no need, I’m here to help, ma’am.”

Troy rolled over to the edge of the mattress, swinging his legs over the side. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome so he figured it was off to the couch for another night. Then, a soft touch wrapped around his wrist.

“Why are you leaving? Did I-”

“I didn’t want to overstay or put you in a position to ask me to leave.”

Troy looked back at the woman from over his shoulder. She sat where he had left her, trying to hide her modesty behind entwined arms and legs. The look she returned was not one that he had assumed he would get. Her coy smile beckoned his feet to not move. Her eyes were like a siren making any thought he had of leaving melt away.

“I’m grateful, I truly am -” her hand that was on his wrist weaved through a belt loop, tugging at the fabric, “- I need more, Troy. And given by how tight those pants have gotten, I think you need more too.”

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #troy otto fanfic #troy otto x reader #troy otto smut #troy otto x oc #ftwd fanfic #ftwd #daniel sharman fic #smut #fem receiving

[noemitenshi]

watching daniel sharman act among the rest of the cast in ftwd s8b kinda feels like... he's the only original character, the rest are all fanon versions and so Troy is the only one aware something isn't right but he's got to play along with this bad fanfic script

he's as bewildered as we are

#troy otto #daniel sharman #ftwd #fear the walking dead #this resonated with some people #so i thought the rest of you could get something out of this too #or am i the only one still grappling with s8b? #my new hc #troy was forced into some bad fanfic and we all had to watch it happen

[ragerageatn]

My fic is anyone wants to give it a read — I’m planning on posting ch.3 today and keeping a posting schedule of Friday nights 🩷

#teen wolf #fanfic #chapter 3 #posting schedule #isaac lahey #cora hale #sterek #teen wolf fic #daniel sharman #adelaide kane

[aquarian-queen]

Saw the episode will share my thoughts on it.

#troy otto #daniel sharman #ftwd spoilers #ftwd fanfic #fear the walking dead #Some of the things don't make sense #Villain Troy #I dig #But the reason why??? #The Ranch and all that #Babyyyyy I love you but you brought that damn horde to the Ranxh #Also the Alicia reveal???? #Let me make some cute gifs for my man

[jackstanleyroberts]

The descriptions of the characters in the Extended Cut of the Scream franchise Part 8

Hello everybody, if you have seen part 8 of the new characters in the Extended Cut of the Scream franchise. Well I have done part 7 of the new characters that are introduced to the Extended Cut of both movies. Here's more descriptions of the characters in the Extended Cut of the Scream franchise.

New Characters: Part 4

Zac Godspeed as Tyler Ferguson, one of the new characters in the Extended Cut of Scream VI. He & Maurice are later becoming the killers in the movie.

Daniel Sharman as Kurt Parker, one of the new characters in the Extended Cut of the Scream franchise. He's the ex-boyfriend of Wendy Hicks when he's kicked out by Matthew Bishop because he made her uncomfortable.

Lewis Pullman as Richard Jackson, an Serious, Hardworking, & Confident young man who has a part of the friend group with Terry & Larry Watkins in the Extended Cut of Scream (2022). He's the boyfriend of Nicole Kennedy.

Stella Maeve as Nicole Kennedy, an Beautiful, Kind, & Supportive young woman who's being friends with Terry & Larry Watkins as a part of the friend group in the Extended Cut of Scream (2022). She's the best friend of Dorothy Johnson & the girlfriend of Richard Jackson.

Ryan Lee as Marty McCreary, an Funny, Hilarious, & Charismatic young man who's been a part of the friend group of Terry & Larry Watkins in the Extended Cut of Scream (2022).

Angelica Bette Fellini as Dorothy Johnson, an Beautiful, Protective, & Loyal young woman who's being friends with Terry & Larry Watkins as a part of the friend group in the Extended Cut of Scream (2022). She's the protecting older sister of Riley Johnson.

Stefanie Scott as Caroline "Carol" Feldman, an Beautiful, Spirited, Kind, Supportive, Headstrong young woman who is one of the new characters & one of the students in Blackmore University in New York in the Extended Cut of Scream VI. She's the older sister of Zachary "Zack" Feldman because they're related to their dad Derek Feldman.

Denyse Tontz as Laura Morris, one of the new characters & one of the students at Blackmore University in New York in the Extended Cut of Scream VI. She's the younger sister of Olivia Morris & she's the younger cousin of Gloria Smith.

That's it for all of the new characters in the Extended Cut of the Scream franchise.

Happy Holidays & Happy New Year!!

#scream original character #scream fanfic #scream franchise #scream 2022 #scream vi #scream fandom #fictional characters #zac goodspeed #daniel sharman #lewis pullman #stella maeve #ryan lee #Angelica Bette Fellini #stefanie scott #Spotify #denyse tontz