#Alexandria master era
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redriots0 · 6 months ago
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A Literal Snack
Summary: “Close your eyes,” he requested. Adding with a raise of his eyebrows, “and open your mouth.” One-shot where Rick finds chocolate after you’ve offhandedly requested it.
Word count: 782
CW: fluff/suggestive
Rick Grimes x Original Character (Female, Male or Non-Binary)
Cross-posted on AO3.
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“Hey, Y/N, there ya are. I’ve been looking for you. Found something this morning that I think you’ll like.”
You whirled around, startled by the deep voice of Rick, the resident sheriff’s deputy turned farmer turned all round bad ass. You had been contributing to your daily tasks in a quieter section of the community, content to work at your own pace and under your own direction.
“Close your eyes,” he requested. Adding with a raise of his eyebrows, “and open your mouth.”
Your eyebrows raised in response at his command, the corner of your mouth turning up slightly at the innuendo. Your eyes flickered between his, gauging whether to trust him. After the moment’s hesitation, you nodded slightly, allowing your eyes to close. Your lower lip parted from the top, tongue covering your lower teeth.
At that point, you can feel and hear rather than see Rick stepping closer to you. One hand clasps your chin, his thumb and index fingers angling your chin upward. The other hand parts your lips slightly as something is placed ever so gently on your tongue. His hands linger before withdrawing.
Eyes shut, the sensation of what had hit your tongue began to hit you. A wave of sweetness began to dance along your taste buds, enveloping them in a velvety embrace. Your eyes flutter open with the excitement that takes its hold, twisting your face in delight as you lock eyes with Rick.
Careful to not waste any, you cover your mouth as you exclaim. “Where the heck did you get chocolate?” You ask, Rick’s grin showing how pleased he was with himself and your reaction. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Found it on the run this morning. Whaddya think?” Smooth bastard, he must have heard your whining to Maggie earlier that week about ‘missing chocolate the most in this apocalypse thing’. Mind you, if you remembered correctly, you also said you missed ‘mind-blowing sex and a decent but smutty novel.’
Your eyes flutter close briefly again to enjoy the sensation on your tongue. “Jesus Christ, Rick. This is practically orgasmic!” As they reopen, you catch the faint blush tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “It’s been sooo long since I’ve had chocolate. Have you tried it?” He shook his head, proffering the remaining pieces of chocolate bar to you. “Nah. I was gonna save it for Carl to have.”
“Fuck that, some things should be saved for the adults,” you giggle, grabbing the bar. “Your turn,” you murmur, stepping closer to him once again, “to close your eyes and open your mouth.” Once again, you don’t miss the slight tinge to his cheeks, but you definitely don’t miss the darkness that flashes across his features before he obeys.
You take the remaining piece, placing it into his open mouth upon his tongue, thumb brushing his lips as you withdraw. You watch as his features too change as the flavours hit him of a decadence that had been too long since last tasted. You’re hyper aware of your breathing whilst this close to him, but you are mesmerised as his eyebrows knit together, tongue swirling the chocolate around his mouth with a slight.. was that a grunt or a moan?
Catching himself by surprise with that, he began to grin sheepishly, eyes opening to find you in his space watching him with thinly veiled delight. Absentmindedly, his hand raised to brush a lock that had fallen in front of your face. The touch wasn’t out of place for Rick- he always found a way to touch you in this absentminded way, whether a hand on the small of your back to guide you, or a touch on the arm to get your attention.
This felt different. And as his eyes once again locked with yours, you could tell he felt it too. Here you both were, within a foot of the other, having shared some sweet treats. Rick inclined his head downwards, one hand falling to rest on your waist, eyes trailing the small gap between your bodies.
He leaned down further, his warmth radiating through your body. You almost started when he spoke- you forgot that you were both capable of speech at this point.
“Well, Y/N… with a reaction like that, I’m going to make it my own personal mission to find you a ‘smutty book’… whatever that means.”
He winked a blue eye at you, and you smiled coyly in response.
“And then, together, we can maybe look at working on the whole ‘mind-blowing sex’ thing.”
Your reply was simple, but with confidence. “Get me that novel, and we’ll see just how we go with the mind-blowing sex.”
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dixons-sunshine · 2 months ago
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Do-It-All Salon | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Daryl loved his little family. He loved you and your daughter with his whole being. He’d do just about anything for the two of you, including letting his nails and face get painted by his daughter, and endure the pain that came with removing rubber elastics from his hair.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria, set post Saviour arc.
Warnings: None.
Word count: 1k.
A/N: @hannyhann requested some girl dad Daryl. I hope you like it!
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The scene in front of you was both amusing and adorable. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth at the sight that beheld you; your husband sitting on the ground with his face painted with various sorts of makeup, his hair tied up in multiple little ponytails, and his hand extended in front of him to have his nails get painted. The sight was so cute, you just had to get out the video camera you had found on a run to capture the moment.
Your three year old daughter, Hazel, innocently went about painting her father’s nails while happily babbling away. She was completely oblivious to the video camera, the amused looks you sent Daryl’s way, or the playful scowls he sent your way. There was no real heat behind his eyes, however. He knew that if the tables were turned, he’d be just as amused as you.
“Daddy, hand,” Hazel instructed him, motioning over to his other hand. She held a bottle of pink nail polish in her hand. She shook the bottle a couple of times, mimicking what she had seen you do a few times before, before opening it to reveal the tiny brush.
Daryl cocked an eyebrow at her choice of colour, but gave her his hand nonetheless. “Shouldn’t ya be usin’ blue? Y���know, since this hand s’coloured blue?” For added emphasis, he lifted his hand for her to see.
Hazel giggled and shook her hand. “Silly Daddy.” She offered nothing else. She left it at that, and simply started rather messily painting his nails.
Daryl raised his eyebrows at her, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shared a look with you, both of you having to refrain from laughing at her explanation. Or, well, lack thereof.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, shaking his head, the small ponytails on his head swinging left to right with the motion. “M’real silly. Need’a jus’ be quiet and let the master work, huh?” Hazel giggled but said nothing, her face scrunched up in concentration while her hand worked to apply the nail polish to Daryl’s nails. Daryl smiled fondly. “How ‘bout we do yer Mama next?”
“Oh, no. I’m fine. My beauty appointment was yesterday.” For emphasis, you raised one of your hands in front of the camera and showed your own messily painted nails. “It’s Daddy’s turn today. I’m not scheduled for another appointment until Hazel is ready to have me again.”
“‘Orrow,” Hazel giggled, her eyes sparkling at her promise of giving you a makeover the next day.
“Tomorrow,” Daryl corrected her with a fond smile, chuckling when the three year old girl completely missed his nail and instead painted the skin of his finger.
Hazel looked up at her father. “‘Orrow,” she said, a concentrated look on her face as she tried to get it right.
Daryl shook his head. “Repeat after me, alright?” When Hazel nodded eagerly, he continued. “To—”
“To—” the three year old repeated determinedly.
“Morrow.”
“Morrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
“‘Orrow!” Hazel giggled happily, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Daryl.
Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “We’ll keep workin’ on it.” His attention shifted towards you. He ducked his head shyly when he noticed the camera was pointed in his direction. “Ya had that thing pointed at me the whole time?”
“Yup,” you nodded with a small smile, redirecting the camera towards Hazel when you noticed her close the nail polish and reach down to grab the sticker book you had found for her on a run. “Oh, you’re in trouble now,” you warned him with a light laugh.
Daryl looked back up towards Hazel who was walking around the small, plastic table with the sticker book, and he laughed. “Oh, god. M’in trouble, ain’t I?” Daryl questioned, his amused, loving gaze resting on you.
“Oh, definitely,” you mused, your eyes drifting over to your daughter who remained blissfully unaware of the conversation her parents were having, too caught up in her own little world. “Stickers is part of the experience here at Hazel’s ‘do-it-all salon.”
“Daddy, still,” she instructed, carefully peeling a sticker from the small book and softly pressing it onto Daryl’s face. She pulled back, admired her handy work with a soft giggle, before peeling another sticker and repeating the process. Again, and again, and again. Soon enough, Daryl’s face was covered in small stickers, ranging from stars, smiley faces, and even little arrows. Once there was no more skin left to cover with her stickers, Hazel stepped back and laughed in delight, clapping her hands together in excitement. “Yay! Daddy pretty!” She turned towards you and raised her arms, a silent request to be picked up. “Mama, Daddy pretty!”
You laughed lightly, placed the video camera down on the dresser, and picked up your little girl. You placed a couple of kisses all over her face, eliciting a shriek of laughter from her. “Yeah, he looks really pretty. He looks like a princess.”
“Princess,” Hazel agreed with a toothy smile. Her small, chubby hands gently grabbed your face and brought it down to hers, rubbing her nose together with yours, an action you did a lot; one she knew meant ‘I love you’.
Daryl chuckled and shook his head. He knew that he probably looked ridiculous. If anybody in the community saw him like that, they would never be able to take him seriously ever again. However, as the archer looked over at you and Hazel, and saw the happy smiles on your faces, he knew that he would do anything to keep those smiles alive. He would even allow his daughter to paint his nails, do his hair in a way that would hurt to remove the hair ties, almost poke his eye out with the mascara brush, and have a face full of stickers. All to ensure his girls’ happiness.
Daryl Dixon lived for his girls, and nothing in the world would ever change that.
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etclouie · 2 months ago
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polaroid
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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: around Ricks birthday, you had found a working polaroid camera, and decided to give him a different type of gift. (Rick Grimes x fem!reader)
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 setting: early Alexandria era
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: younger girlfriend + established relationship, nudes + description of taking nudes, giving nudes (in the form of polaroid pictures), suggestive but no smut, rick calls reader baby (once), pretty sure the words ‘happy birthday’ aren’t used in this at all, lmk if i missed any
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 936
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: thinking of andy’s birthday so pinning this as september time
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 twd masterlist | main masterlist
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you had gone out on a supply run with Rick, looking for tins of food and more medicine, as the community was running low on everything at the minute. 
searching through an unchecked row of houses Daryl had mentioned from his previous run, clearing one of the houses of walkers before beginning to skim through the cabinets and drawers. 
looking for medicine in an upstairs bathroom while Rick searched for food in the kitchen, entering the master bedroom with the en-suite bathroom. 
eyes landing on an old polaroid camera lying aimlessly on the bed, piquing your interest and surely making it’s way into your supplies bag - fully without Rick’s knowledge of course. 
the camera had ideas flooding your mind, and the memory of Rick mentioning how his birthday was nearing- or how he thought so at least, with the season change and all. 
one main idea stuck in your head, giggling to yourself at the first idea of a birthday gift for the man you love. 
finding the polaroid instant film in the top drawer of the bedside table, and also putting that in your bag before finally making your way into the bathroom as originally intended. 
opening every cabinet door in reach, and rifling through their contents. setting down every pill bottle and medical item on the counters as you continued to search, your bag set on the floor next to you. 
a soft call of Rick’s voice shouting your name had you moving to the top of the stairs to answer him back, noticing an all too familiar smile plastered across his face. 
“what?”
watching him shake his head before a low rumble sounded from his chest, setting his bag of canned food down before making his way upstairs towards you. 
mind reeling as he stalked towards you, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you against him, his lips pressing to yours and giggles spilling from your lips. 
“what’s gotten into you?”
you had questioned softly, pulling back from the kiss while his hands remained on your hips. thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt to soothe across your skin, before he was leaning in to kiss you again, nipping at your bottom lip. 
“missed you that’s all, taking your time up here”
rolling your eyes playfully at him and untangling yourself from his arms, moving into the bathroom and gathering all the pill bottles into the bag on the floor. glancing over your shoulder to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. 
“let’s go then, mister impatient”
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a week or so had passed since you found the polaroid camera, waiting until you had your shared bedroom to yourself and a day of no planned work to take the pictures for Ricks birthday gift. 
making sure no one else was home and locking the bedroom door, stripping yourself of your sleep clothes before standing in front of the full length mirror in the room. 
eyes raking down your figure and noting the fading marks Rick had left across your throat and inner thighs, humming appreciatively before taking a step back towards the bedside table. 
pulling out the polaroid camera from the bottom drawer and standing in front of the mirror again, lifting the camera and taking a picture. making sure all of your body was in the shot, and the fading marks were visible too. waiting for the film to process before taking another picture, copying the action a couple times until you had a couple decent pictures. 
setting all of the pictures down on the bed, and flicking your gaze over every one. eyes focusing on the one picture in particular you thought Rick would like most, lifting it and soothing your thumb across the film. 
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you’d managed to pull Rick away from the rest of the group, insisting that this gift had to be given alone. thoughts flooded his mind as you led him towards your room, shutting the door behind you both. 
reaching into the bottom drawer where you kept the polaroid camera and pictures you took hidden, turning back towards Rick with a grin plastered across your face. 
“remember that run we went on last week?”
you started softly, holding up a small envelope containing the pictures and the camera in the other hand. watching as his eyebrows knitted together before he nodded slowly, your que to continue on. 
“found this camera then, and had the idea to use it to give you a special gift”
handing him the envelope as you spoke, his left pointer finger hooking under your chin to tilt your head towards you while holding the envelope in his other hand, carefully setting down the camera on the nightstand and soothing your hands across his chest. 
watching eagerly as he opened the envelope and pulled out the pictures, alongside a small handwritten note. his eyes flicking over your words before landing on the various different nudes. a low mumbled ‘fuck’ falling from his lips, his eyes raking over your naked form in the film. 
“they’re perfect, you’re perfect”
he groaned out, setting the pictures down next to the camera and turning to you. cradling your jaw in both of his hands and pulling you up into a bruising kiss, gasping under his touch before he pushed you down onto the bed. watching him crawl on top of you and holding your hands above your head. 
hips slotted against yours and legs loosely hooked around his hips, breathing heavy and his voice laced with lust as he mumbled into your ear. 
“gonna take my other gift now, yeah baby?”
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requests are open here !
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 11 months ago
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Words: 5,818 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: scary imagery, frightening scenarios A/N: This is part of a series! Find the rest on the Master List!
Summary: Escaping from the horde and leaving the ruins of the cabin behind, Daryl and Y/N head down the mountain and then must decide what happens next.
Previous Chapter
You cut the engine of the snowmobile and shut off the lights. The slope of the foothills behind you continued to carry you downwards toward the darker shadows looming, rising up in front of you like a tidal wave. The moon was bright enough to illuminate your way.
You were shivering, almost violently, and Daryl’s arms tightened around you. Your teeth chattered.
“What is it?” Daryl drawled over your shoulder.
“W—we’re almost there. We should f—find somewhere to leave the sled and g—go on foot. I don’t want th—the engine noise or lights to attract the dead or the l—living,” you stuttered. You both squinted ahead at the dark buildings.
“Yer frozen,” he said. The worry weighed heavily in his voice. “We gotta get ya warm and into some dry socks and shoes… Hopefully I can build ya a fire when we find a clear buildin’.”
“I’m—I’m okay,” you managed, though you weren’t sure you believed it. You felt as if you’d been in a daze since you’d woken up and seen the crowd of dead outside the cabin. You still had the fleeting thought that this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t happening, but then the bite of the cold on your cheeks and fingers would reassure you that it was. You were far past feeling anything in your toes, even the painful teeth of the frigid wind.
At last, you stopped the sled at the bottom of the hill and pulled it sideways along a row of brushy shrubs to conceal it. Daryl climbed off immediately and the dogs eagerly jumped out and began nosing around in the snow. Bear let out a few quiet whines, but they showed no sign of alert due to any nearby enemies, dead or living.
You climbed off the seat and staggered on your feet in the deep snow. Daryl’s hands seized your shoulders and steadied you. In the glow of the moon, you could see the frantic turmoil in his blue eyes. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled softly. He was on edge. You could hear it in the flinty sharpness of his voice.
You gulped and nodded.
Your frozen fingers fumbled with your gear, pulling it clumsily from the snowmobile and shouldering it over the oversize parka you’d pulled on hastily on the mountain. Daryl popped open the storage container and began tugging more bags from inside, shifting them onto his back. Crossbow in hand, he was waiting nearby until you were ready, and then he began to lead the way to the closest building.
The night air was dampened of all sound from the blanket of snow. Somewhere among the buildings you could hear the occasional squeak of metal or bang, perhaps from some infected trapped somewhere, but the street seemed blessedly empty.
You were trying hard to control the violent shivering wracking your body, clenching your teeth and trying to focus on staying alert to the surroundings, but your feet had begun to burn again in your sodden layers. Daryl’s hand drifted along the painted cinderblock as he moved stealthily toward a heavy metal door ahead. You were at the back of some store, though you couldn’t say what it may have been a long time ago. There were no windows and Daryl heaved in a steadying breath when he finally stopped in front of the gray, metal door. He raised the butt of his crossbow and knocked it hard in the center. A hollow reverberation sounded and you could almost feel the vibration in your bones.
Both of you strained your ears in the silence. The dogs stood on either side of you, alert. You waited several long minutes, rigid with anticipation, until finally you wavered on your feet and Daryl almost dropped his bow in his anxiety to steady you again. His brow furrowed deeply. “I think it’s clear, but dun let yer guard down until we know for sure. We gotta check the whole building.” He reached out and tested the handle cautiously. It was loose. He turned it and pushed inside into the darkness, clicking on the light mounted on his bow.
You moved through the building efficiently, searching for any sign or people or infected, but the building was silent with its maze of shelves and newspapered windows. Part of the roof had collapsed at some point and pigeons took off and flew through the hole toward the inky night sky overhead. The dogs gave chase briefly but quickly returned to your sides when they realized the birds were far out of reach.
Daryl was shining his light around what must have been an employee break room at some point. “I think we’re good,” he drawled, heaving a relieved sigh. As if that was all you needed to hear to allow your body to finally give out, you collapsed in a heap on the floor. “Whoa—hey, hey!” Daryl rushed to you. Bear whimpered and licked your cheek. You were breathing hard, clearly exhausted and crashing after the highs of the adrenaline. “Hey—yer alrigh’,” he drawled, kneeling beside you and quickly dumping his gear down on the floor. He cupped your face between his hands and wiped at a spot of blood on your cheek from your fight with the walkers outside the shop. “We’re okay. S’gonna be okay…”
“I c—can’t f—feel my feet,” you said, reaching a still gloved hand toward your sodden feet. The slippers were blocks of ice and so were the socks beneath them.
Daryl’s brow furrowed. “Yeah… uhh—yeah, we need fire. We gotta get ya warm. Lemme—” he glanced back at the hole in the roof, perfect to let the smoke escape. “Okay. I’mma make a fire. Lemme gather up some shit to burn. Just—ya peel off those wet socks and stuff and move your toes and feet, see if ya can warm ‘em a bit with yer hands. If ya gotta, wrap ‘em in yer coat or put your mittens on ‘em.”
You realized for the first time that he barely had any winter gear on either. “W—what ab—bout you?”
He gave you a half-smile. “‘M okay. Haven’t ya noticed ‘m immune to the cold now? It almost had me once, but ain’t gonna happen again.”
His cheeks were red and windburned and you frowned. “It’s n—not a virus. Ya don’t g—get immunity l—like that, Daryl,” you argued. “Ya can’t just—”
He suddenly cupped your face and pressed his lips eagerly to yours. Yours were chilled and tasted slightly salty, like tears, but you kissed him back hungrily, feeling a screaming welling up inside your chest—too close, it was too close, too close, that was all too close… “I’ve got this,” he whispered to you when he pulled back, brushing some strands of your hair that were sticking to your cheeks. “Just rest here and try to unfreeze them toes.” Daryl was here. Daryl was going to make sure you were okay. The scream lessened to a dull roar. You nodded and watched him step away into the darkness to gather dried bits of cardboard and paper and broken pallet wood to build a fire. The glow of his flashlight was a warm torch in the cold darkness.
You sighed and turned your attention back to your frozen feet. Bear laid down against your side, whining slightly. Strider walked calm patrol around you, on alert and staring and sniffing into the darkness.
When you peeled (or cracked may be more accurate) the sodden socks from your feet, the skin on your feet was so white it looked completely drained of all life and you thought that the tips of your toes were slightly blue, but it was difficult to tell in the warm, yellow light of your headlamp. You did as Daryl had instructed and tried to move and wiggle them, mentally trying to summon hot blood back into them. You finally took off your mittens and pulled them on over your feet. Slowly the warmth from your hands began to penetrate the iciness of your skin.
An orange glow flickered to life in the direction Daryl had gone and you watched embers lick up toward the hole in the roof. Daryl reappeared around some shelves and paced over to you. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get ya warmed up.” He glanced at your feet and nodded. “Nice socks.”
“Thanks.” Your shivering and stammer was gone. Being out of the wind of the sled and at least protected from the worst of the descending cold of night seemed to allow your body to make some headway toward warmth again. “It’s a new trend I’m starting.” You noted that his hand was chilled as you accepted it and he pulled you to your feet. Daryl gathered up the gear and hauled it along to the fire. The dogs trotted beside you.
There was already a happy blaze and you sank down beside it and warmed your fingers and feet, sticking them out toward the flickering flames. It wasn’t lost on you that you’d almost died in a fire not 40 minutes ago and now the same thing was perhaps saving your toes. The cabin—gone. It was hard to believe it was gone. Gone like your mom and dad. Gone like Brian. All of your old life was now behind, smoldering on the mountain, perhaps trampled under rotting feet. But you’d made it out. No thanks to your own obstinacy, you’d made it out.
Daryl watched you silently for several long minutes, warming his own body in the glow of heat and throwing on more pallet wood to stoke the fire as needed. Finally, he broke the silence. “Ya okay?” he asked. His voice was thick, worried.
But you looked up at him, your eyes a bit teary and sad at first, and then you smiled. It was small and tired, but it was there. “Yeah,” you said with a nod. “I am. Or I will be… I’m with you. The boys are here,” you said reaching over to pet Strider’s ear. “That’s all that matters.”
He nodded, and a wave crashed over him, nearly dragging him under. He tore his eyes away from you and blinked furiously at the tears burning in them, staring instead at the movement in the coals. “I—I really thought I might lose ya,” he admitted. “That fire—it was spreadin’ so quick. And then the roof fallin’ in—”
You hastily pulled off the puffy coat you still had on and laid it down on the ground next to him before sitting on it, scooting close beside him. You leaned against his side and slipped your arm through his. “Me too,” you said. “But then—I heard your voice on the other side of that wall—and I knew you would get me out. I just knew that you’d do everything you could to get me out. You saved me. Again. I can’t ever repay you for all you’ve done.”
Daryl looked over at you in surprise. “Repay me?” His blue eyes flickered between yours again, but you were relieved to see that they were less turbulent. “Ya dun owe me a damn thing.” He leaned in toward you then and kissed your cheek, but it was soft and lingering and it warmed you even better than the fire did.
You laid down close to the fire, tucked against each other that night. Daryl’s arm looped over you protectively. You felt the crash coming hard from the waning of your adrenaline, the terror of your ordeal. “What do we do next?”
Daryl was almost afraid to ask the question, but he did. Part of him still didn’t believe that someone as good as you could come to him and then stay… “Will ya come with me? Back to Alexandria?”
You turned over beneath his arm and leaned up on your forearm, your eyes flickering between his, seeing his fear and his nervousness. “Of course, I will. And not just because of what happened tonight. I—I would have made the same decision if the cabin and everything was still there. I don’t—I don’t want to be parted from you.” You pressed your hand flush to the center of his chest when you said it and Daryl felt a surge of relief and happiness and hope and—
He smiled at you. Just a small one, but it touched the corners of his eyes. “Everybody back home is gonna love ya. Just wait. Ya got a ready-made family waitin’ for ya back there.”
“Waiting for us,” you corrected him.
He nudged his nose up in a nod, that signature Daryl move. “Right. Us. Tomorrow, we’ll see if my bike is still where I left it months ago when I rolled into town—see if it’ll still run. If it ain’t, we’ll figure somethin’ else out. A car… somethin’. Or take the sled as far as we can. And we head home.”
You nodded, thoughtfully biting your bottom lip. “It’s a long fucking way. Do you really think we can make it?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I know we can. The two of us together? Are ya kiddin’ me? Ain’t shit standin’ in our way.”
You let out a small laugh at that and then leaned forward and kissed him softly. His hand landed lightly on your neck. Then, exhaustion was winning and you lay down, tucked in against his chest, his arm draping over you again.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Three Months Later “Hey—hey!” Glenn shouted down to Rosita who was standing by the gate. “Did anybody go out today on a run?” he asked, glancing back up to stare down the street in the distance.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why?” Before he could answer, she looked out through the gate and saw the approaching truck too. She hurried to climb the ladder and stood beside Glenn on the guard platform. He had dug out the binoculars and raised them to his eyes.
There was a long silence where he just seemed to be staring, fixedly, at the approaching vehicle.
“What? What is it?” Rosita urged. The truck was still too far away for her to see much with no scope to aid her.
Glenn lowered the binoculars and looked over at her, his eyes a little wide. “Go get Rick—everybody, go get everybody!” he said, almost in a daze.
“What is going on?” she urged him. That’s when his face finally cracked into a wide smile, his eyes a little teary.
“There’s a bike in the back,” he said.
She knew what that meant. “Is it—? Can you see him? Are you sure?” she asked desperately.
Glenn nodded. “Yeah. It’s him. Go get everyone! Hurry!”
In the truck, Daryl glanced over at you in the passenger seat beside him. “Are ya ready for this?” he asked.
You shook your head and shrugged. “I—I dunno. It’s a lot of people,” you laughed. “But I’m—I can’t wait to meet them. Nervous though…” you added. Bear stood, sensing the end of the journey somehow and tapping his paws excitedly on the back seat, giving a big stretch and a loud yawn and whine. Looking ahead you could see the gate, just as he’d described it, and the sign posted on the wall: Alexandria Safe Zone. Mercy for the Lost. Vengeance for the Plunderers.
Daryl’s hand landed over yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re gonna love ya. Ya ain’t got any reason to be nervous. I know it.”
The brakes squealed as the truck came to a stop in front of the gate. Daryl flashed the lights three times, the old signal they’d always used that the coast was clear to open it. He nudged his head toward his door and you nodded. You both climbed out, the dogs jumping out after you, climbing over the center console to get outside. As the metal gate rattled, drawn back by someone you couldn’t yet see. It rolled to the side to reveal a small crowd gathering. More people were rushing up the street to join them. You met Daryl’s eyes again as he stepped around his door and gave you a warm smile. Home. He was happy to be home. And you were with him. You’d made it.
Daryl shut his door and strode forward. You stopped by the front of the truck, hanging back a little awkwardly. “Stay, boys,” you murmured to the dogs. They heeled on either side of you, but Strider was wagging his tail and Bear was whining a little, looking ahead at all the people.
“Move! Watch out,” a voice rose from the crowd and a woman with short silver hair burst through. A huge grin spread on her face when she saw him walking toward the gate. Carol. It must be Carol. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him in a huge hug, then pulled back to clasp his face between her hands before hugging him again, a teary, broad smile on her face, her eyes squeezed shut. Daryl hugged her back, but looked up as the crowd parted and a lean man with curly hair broke through with a little girl in his arms at a light jog.
“Maggie, would you hold her?” Rick murmured, almost not believing his eyes as he glanced back up at Daryl standing there, Carol now at his side. Maggie, happy tears on her cheeks already, held Judith. Rick’s eyes flickered over to you briefly but then landed back on Daryl again. His expression was almost disbelief at first and then it melted into emotion he was trying hard to hold back. He walked right up to Daryl and gripped his shoulder hard, looking him square in the eye and nodding, gulping emotion back. “Where the hell have you been?” he drawled, his face finally breaking into a smile touched with tears, and he pulled Daryl into a hug, clasping the back of his neck. “God, it’s good to see you brother.”
You bit your bottom lip, choking back your own emotion at the reunion, and feeling like you were intruding on something. After Daryl broke from Rick, he was quickly surrounded as his family came one by one to welcome him home—Michonne clasped his face and kissed his cheek, Eric and Aaron hugged him with broad smiles and pats on the back, Glenn gave him a hasty hug, Maggie pressed her palm gently to his cheek and Daryl stroked Judith’s soft blond hair. He was chewing on his bottom lip hard, trying to stop himself from completely going to pieces. Carol and Rick never left his side, but after a few minutes the rest of the Alexandrians who weren’t part of Daryl’s core group wandered away with plenty to talk about. Who was that standing there with the two dogs? Do you think its Brian’s sister? Did he really find her? He can’t have made it all the way to Montana and back!
Finally, he was able to gather himself and looked back at you still standing by the car, running your fingers through Bear’s thick fur nervously, biting your bottom lip. He cleared his throat and caught Rick’s eyes again. “Rick—uhh, everybody… This is Y/N. She’s—she’s Brian’s twin sister. And that’s Bear and Strider,” he said, pacing over to pat the big lab on his head and tousle his ears around.
For a moment everyone just stared at you, mostly good-natured looks on their faces, sure, but also some pity and grief and curiosity and wariness mixed in. Daryl met your eyes and gave a questioning look to ask non-verbally, are you okay? You nodded and managed a tight smile to tell him you were, though your nerves were fizzing.
“Well, what the hell are we standing around out here for?” Carol said finally, grinning again. “Come inside!”
There was some laughter and they all moved back in past the gate.
“I’mma drive the truck in, alrigh’?” Daryl said to Rick, who gave you another appraising look and then nodded. “See ya at the house in a few.”
Carol came and gave his arm a gentle touch. “We missed you,” she said. “See you in a minute.” She glanced at you and gave you a tight smile which you did your best to return, though you were so overwhelmed and nervous you weren’t sure it came off.
“C’mon,” Daryl said, nudging his head back toward the truck. He whistled and opened the passenger side door for you and the dogs. They bounded right back in and you slid in past him. The door shut with a snap and you realized you’d been holding your breath.
Daryl climbed in behind the steering wheel again and started the engine. “Ya okay?” he asked, shifting into drive.
You nodded. “Yeah. Just—a bit overwhelmed is all.”
He nodded. “Well, ya’d been alone up there a long time. I know this is a lot. Ya want me to tell everybody ya just need some space for tonight?”
“What? No! No, I want to meet everyone,” you argued. “I do. I just need to remember to breathe,” you said with a laugh.
He nodded and his eyes flickered over your face. “I’ll be right by ya the whole time.”
“I know,” you nodded.
“And if ya do need a break, they’ll all understand.”
“I’m good,” you said.
It was a quick drive to park in front of the group’s two houses. Maggie and Glenn were waiting outside when you pulled up, and you saw Rick on the porch, though he stepped back inside as you all were climbing out.
“Is this the same bike?” Glenn asked Daryl, looking at the motorcycle in the bed of the truck.
“More or less,” he drawled. “Lots of parts went to shit on the road and had to be patched up or replaced, but most of it made it.”
Maggie was grinning as the dogs ran to greet her and she bent down to let them lick her face and to give them lots of scratches and pets. “They’re adorable,” she said.
“I tell them all the time,” you said.
“We always had dogs on the farm,” she said, scratching under Bear’s chin. The next moment she stood up and pulled you into a gentle hug. You expected her to break from you quickly, but she didn’t. She really hugged you for a long moment, and you hugged her back through your surprise. “I’m so glad you’re here. We all are,” she said. Her southern drawl was sweet and warm. “We—we all loved Brian so much.” Tears bit her vision as she said it.
You nodded and swallowed at the lump in your throat. “I know you did. Thank you for that. Daryl’s told me so much about all of you and—and I’m so grateful to be here.”
“Well, let’s get you and these cute dogs inside. We don’t need to stand out here all night. Come on in and have something to eat and drink,” she said.
You glanced back at Daryl where he was talking with Glenn still and he started after you and Maggie up the porch steps and into the warm light.
Everyone was crowded around in the kitchen after you and Daryl had time to clean up and get some food and water into you. Now there was wine being passed around and the atmosphere seemed suddenly charged as a natural lull fell in all the conversation. You and Daryl looked up and met each other’s eyes at the same time.
“Well?” Carol snapped suddenly. “Tell us everything!” she laughed. “You’ve kept us waiting long enough!” The tension seemed to break and many of Daryl’s family laughed.
He let out a gruff laugh too. “I think both of us are a little too tired for everythin’ tonight,” he said. “But we can give ya a few bits from the journey back.” He glanced over at you beside him and you nodded. “We hit a blizzard in Wyoming. Literally couldn’t see yer damn hand in front of yer face. Got snowed in for six days.”
“Daryl killed his first elk in Wyoming too,” you added with a proud smile.
“We were ambushed by hunters in South Dakota. Was a bit touchy and go but we got the best of ‘em,” he went on. “Most of Iowa was a wasteland. We dropped south to avoid the Chicago metro area, but we still saw some of the biggest hordes I’ve ever seen. Had a car wreck in Indiana and then got attacked by some group of assholes—” He almost reached for your hand at that moment. It had been one of the most terrifying, lowest points of the journey back. He could still see the gash you’d gotten on your head and the cut on your neck healing. “Uhh,” he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck instead of reaching for you. “After that, a lot of the roads were fucked or camped on by groups who didn’t look too friendly. We ended up going way south to Kentucky and trying to stay off the main roads after that…”
“Flooding in West Virginia,” you added. “We had to go way around.”
“Yeah. And then—somehow, we got back here.”
The silence settled thickly again until Tara suddenly raised a glass, a welcoming smile on her face. “To family, new and old,” she said.
“To family,” Rick echoed, giving the first wide smile you’d really seem him break into all night.
Carol raised her glass and cleared her throat. “May we look forward with hope and backward without regret,” she said.
“Hear, hear!” Abraham exclaimed, hugging an arm more tightly around Rosita.
Everyone drank, and you felt full in a way that had nothing to do with the good meal and everything to do with the warmth, safety, and welcoming company. When you glanced at Daryl at your side, his eyes were already on you.
The evening wore on and some people drifted away to bed little by little, but many of you were still gathered in the cozy space of the living room.
Daryl had stepped outside for some air and not long after Rick stepped out onto the porch and came to stand beside him, gripping his shoulder briefly and giving him a classic Rick Grimes smile. He glanced back in through the illuminated window at you sitting with Maggie and Glenn on the couch. Bear was curled up at your feet on the floor, content to snooze. Strider was hamming it up getting belly scratches from Carl and Abraham, thoroughly enjoying all the attention. Carol was cuddling Judith and seemed to be watching you closely, but not in a suspicious way—just taking you in. It wasn’t lost on anyone how you and Daryl seemed to relate to each other, his regard for you and yours for him, how he hadn’t left your side all night, the clear chemistry though no one had seen any sort of touch pass between you. “So, am I wrong or did you find more than just Brian’s sister in Montana?”
Daryl scruffed a hand through his long hair and nodded once. “Yeah… more than I bargained for, tha’s for damn sure,” he said, turning to look in at you and the warm scene with his family gathered around. He leaned back on the railing and drew in a deep breath of the cool spring air. “She saved my life,” he drawled. “I think in more than one way.”
Rick smiled. “I have a feeling you’ve done the same for her. She was up there all alone?” he asked. Daryl nodded.
“Yeah. And not just survivin’, but almost thrivin’ up there in a lotta ways. I know she left a piece of her heart back in them mountains. S’gonna be an adjustment here for sure…”
Rick nodded. “Well, it was for all of us. You especially,” he pointed out. “As for that piece of her heart, I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to help her with that too. Give her a new one.” He sighed again. “It’s good to have you home, brother. We never gave up hope but we were worried—we were starting to think maybe you wouldn’t be coming back to us.”
He ducked his head and nodded. “Yeah… It was a long haul. Twice,” he said with a wry laugh.
“But worth it?” Rick asked.
Daryl looked up at you through the window again. You were bathed in a golden glow and surrounded by other people he loved. It was better than he ever thought he’d have, even before everything went to shit. “Hell yeah.”
Rick laughed happily. “Now, one more thing… You aren’t takin’ her down to sleep in the basement, are you?” Rick asked, cocking an eyebrow at him, an amused look on his face.
Daryl scoffed. “The hell is wrong with my room in the basement?”
“Well, there’s a washer and dryer in it for starters. Second, it’s a basement,” Rick teased him. “Seems like you aren’t a bachelor anymore, Daryl. Take one of the rooms upstairs. We’ve got spares.”
Daryl sighed. “We can—figure that all out tomorrow. I was thinkin’—maybe she and I would just get a place…” Rick smiled at this. “For tonight, we just wanna crash. We’ve been livin’ on the road so long now, few months. Ain’t been stayin’ in the same place more than a couple days at a time, ya know? Will be nice to put down roots again.”
Rick’s eyes were crinkled in a smile. “Can’t wait to see what grows.”
“Me either.”
Daryl followed Rick back in, and you looked up and gave him a tired smile as he came in, trying to blink the waiting sleep from your eyes.
“Whatcha think?” he drawled, leaning forward on his hands on the back of the couch just behind you.
“I’m exhausted,” you laughed.
“Yeah, me too,” he mused, looking around at his remaining family. Judith had fallen asleep in Carol’s arms and everyone was cooing at her. “C’mon,” he said, nudging his nose up. “Let’s slip away while we can.”
You happily agreed and jumped the back of the couch, but your sneaky exit was immediately ruined by the dogs needing to follow. Hoots and hollers rose behind you but the two of you hurried out anyway, calling back only a few goodnights. Daryl grabbed your hand and led you toward the stairs. “We can crash in my old space tonight.” He could hear Rick in his head. “Uhh—but it ain’t much… s’just a mattress in the basement mostly,” he drawled.
“Better than we’ve had for a while. And as long as you’re there, I don’t care if it’s a moldy carpet on the floor,” you said.
Daryl snorted and looked down at you. “Moldy? Really?”
“Daryl, I’m so exhausted I could fall asleep standing up right now,” you said, yawning as soon as the words left your mouth.
“Well, ya dun have to do that,” he said. “C’mon. We can both get some deep sleep tonight… It’s safe here. Safest place I’ve ever had… ‘cept maybe for that cabin of yours.”
“More,” you said. “My cabin didn’t have big ass walls all around it.”
“This way,” he drawled, still holding your hand, fingers laced with yours. You followed him down the staircase and into a dim room. It looked like any normal basement; a washer and dryer on one wall, random boxes and storage. But there in one corner was a mattress, neatly made and piled with blankets and pillows. He patted a hand down on them expecting to see a puff of dust, but none arose. “Huh. Somebody musta made the bed up fresh while we were getting cleaned up.”
“My money is on Maggie,” you said, collapsing down onto the blankets and sinking in. “I like her,” you said, before another yawn interrupted you. The dogs settled on the rug.
“I like you,” he said, climbing toward you and caging you beneath his body. He stroked your hair away from your forehead and your eyes shut at his touch. “Maybe a bit too much…” he drawled, smiling. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, and then your lips. You were already drifting toward sleep.
“Too much? Not possible. And only like?” you smiled, opening your eyes again.
He gave you a look and you laughed. “Ya know—ya know I love ya,” he said. He still sounded somewhat shy when he said it… like he couldn’t believe he got to say it at all.
You gave him a sleepy smile. “I love you, too. And I’ll live down here in the spider webby basement or sleep on a moldy rug if I have to…”
He laughed and leaned in to tuck his face against the crook of your neck and breathe in your smell, his body now flush to yours. “Nah. We’re gonna build our own space together. You’ll see. But for now—my bachelor bed is the best I’ve got for tonight.” He lay down beside you and tugged you in against his body, much the same way he had by the fire that night when you’d escaped the flames and the horde. Your breathing was soon soft and deep.
“G’night,” you sighed, snuggling in, already falling into a warm, contented sleep you hadn’t had since long before, back in the cabin after you and Daryl had finally become something more.
“Night,” he breathed. Just before he fell asleep, he sent a thought to Brian, up into the ether, to tell him that he’d done as he’d promised, that you were here and you were safe, and he was going to make sure he protected you with his life… but better yet, that he’d build a life with you that he never thought he could have. I promise. I’ll do right by her. I swear on my life.
The End.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can’t wait to embark on a new series in the near future, and I have a lot of waiting one shots I have been holding off on until this was finished. And here we are! Bittersweet, it is. 
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 months ago
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heyy!! i'm the person from the last ask (kinda surprised by how quick you replied to it), but my suggestion can be adaptated to another character nonetheless. (it's smut, so beware of the next part lol)
could you write a rick grimes x transmasc!reader, where rick likes to play with the reader's nipples and leave kisses on his scars. set probably during alexandria era (the peaceful parts of s6)
transmasc!reader, wc: 402. nsfw.
a/n: this is my first time writing for transmasc!reader, so things are very vague besides the fact that it is explicitly stated the reader has gotten top surgery and has scars! :]
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There wasn’t a lot of time for simple intimacies of the past.
If Rick and you wanted to have sex, it had to be fast, rough, and quiet. There was no time for wandering hands or appreciative words and touches. That’s why intimacy between the both of you had been scarce until now.
Laying on your back in the master bedroom of your now shared Alexandrian home, your fingers tangled in the disgruntled curls atop Rick’s head, his hands settled on your hips to hold you down as he kissed down your neck.
As sad it was to say, you had only been with Rick like this a handful of times, and that was during your time spent at the Prison. It was a confusing time of new feelings since Lori’s death, but once you had entered the honeymoon phase, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.
Then, the Governor hit and so sex has been… subpar, to say the least. 
It’s not that you weren’t satisfied, Rick would rather die and go to hell if you hadn’t cum at least once, but it wasn’t as pleasurable as before. 
Now though, you felt like you were floating on cloud nine.
His lips danced across the skin of your jaw, your head turning to the side so he had more access to your skin. He nipped at the skin there before dragging his lips down the column of your throat. He shuffled down the bed, laying his chest on your lower half as he took a nipple into your mouth.
Though they were less sensitive after your top surgery, it still felt good. 
“Mmf… Rick.” You breathed, back arching slightly to fill into his hands. He hums in acknowledgement, eyes flickering up to stare at your face. 
His lips move further down to drag them across the healed skin of the semi-scar tissue of your pecs, and a shiver ran through you. A large hand reaches up to stimulate your right nipple and you groan as he places kisses on your left. 
“My beautiful boy.” Rick groans, smirking as you whine. “Rick…” You say his name again, a thick layer of desperation in your voice. 
“Just let me love you for a minute.” He grumbles and you laugh, but your stomach swarms something, warm, sweet, and gooey. Melting into straight honey.
Yeah, you could let him love you for a little longer.
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lifeofresulullah · 6 months ago
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The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Assignment of the Duty of the Prophethood and First Muslims
The State of the World and Humanity
It would be useful to know and to recognize the moral state of humanity and the world before the Master of the Universe (PBUH) was appointed as a prophet. Only then will we be able to understand how he saved the humanity from a social, political, religious, spiritual, intellectual darkness and perversion.
During the end of the sixth century of the Gregorian calendar…
This was an era in which disbelief, heresy, and immorality had descended over humanity with all of its might and were trying to suffocate humanity. The prominent and significant countries of that time were:
Byzantine, Persia, Egypt, India, Alexandria, Mesopotamia, China, etc.
In all of these countries;
A correct belief system did not exist
The people during that time suffered qualms of conscience, had gone mad (so to speak), were rampant, and did not know what they were doing.
They worshipped phenomena that took place in the universe and things that had been created by Allah. Humanity would prostrate before the stars, fire, as well as bone dry, lifeless rocks and idols while claiming they were “Gods!”.
Since souls and the conscience of humanity were buried in the deprivation and darkness of not having faith in Allah; nothing was considered to be the creation of the Divine power and the universe was considered to be meaningless, unnecessary, and pointless. Those poor individuals, who were devoid of faith, wisdom, and understanding, knew that a letter, a word, and a book could not come into being without a writer; however, they were writhing in the misery of accepting that the universe, which contains hundreds of thousands of mysteries and wisdoms, was without an owner and without reason.
In this deplorable state, the entire world was expecting and in need of a prophet who would reintroduce the belief in Tawhid, Allah’s existence and His oneness, and cleanse the heart of disbelief and depravity.
People had been divided into classes
Humanity had broken into several classes, such as the wealthy, the poor, the strong, and the weak; there was a great disconnection and gap between the community and the government officials. There was a considerable amount of tension among the classes.
Due to the tyranny and injustice that was committed by the higher social classes, the lower class resembled a barrel of gunpowder that was ready to explode at any minute. Let us take a glance at the state of Iran during that time as an example: “Like many primitive societies, the Iranians were completely separate from one another. The top three classes were entirely detached from the fourth caste, which was all the way at the bottom. The highest three classes consisted of the priests, judges, warriors and officials who were either called Magipads or Mobads since they were from the Magi Tribe; the farmers and artists constituted the fourth class”. The common people, who were the community, consisted of free city dwellers, slaves, and serfs. Their duty was to work in the fields or in the military without receiving any payments or rewards for their services. They were completely left to themselves and were stuck with insurmountable obstacles. They could not advance in their stations in any way; there was even no hope for them to become townspeople, although the latter openly benefited from their goods and property…”
The Eastern Roman Empire’s condition was even more deplorable. “Its society had been divided into many secondary classes. They were: 1) A class called Curule. They were landowners who were not enlisted in the military and could not get involved in any kind of trade. 2) Tributaries, just like their counterparts in Persia, included those who had no land of their own, those who paid poll taxes, and those were bound to guilds that passed by inheritance from fathers to sons. 3) The military class. As one writer said regarding this matter: “The farmers who cultivated the soil were nothing but tools that clothed and fed the king’s court.” 
Finlay, who was an eminent historian on the Middle East, summarized the Eastern Roman Empire’s (Byzantine) miserable condition as follows: “History has probably not seen a community whose morals were as withered as that of the Greeks and Romans who lived in the period between Justinian’s death (528-565) and Muhammad’s birth, and who lacked as much self-control and virtue”. 
The European community was in the ruthless hands of the aristocracy, the knights, and the clergy, and its condition was no different than that of a dumb animal. Those in power could purchase and sell the community’s constituents whenever they wanted and the latter did not have the right to object. Those who were sold practically became slaves. Even if they were not slaves in the fullest sense, those who did not have the power and strength to separate from their masters would eventually become servants. Nobody had the right not to like his master, nor did anybody possess the authority to choose him. However, there was this one condition: in some uncivilized countries, servants were able to go to another home by first paying their masters a sum for their freedom; this was considered to be a huge favor.
In summary, all countries other than the Arabian Peninsula had caste systems in which people had been divided into separate classes and looked at each other with enmity, hate, and brutality. This world, which was in a miserable state, was in need of a great prophet who would declare that humans were Allah’s most esteemed creatures, they had all descended from one father, and that they all had specific rights in the same proportion, like the right to freedom, and who would change feelings of hate and animosity into feelings of love, respect, and friendship. This situation called for and was in dire need of this Great Prophet.
Slavery was an official institution
Human beings are both reverend and honorable. However, appreciation of this fact is only possible with true belief.
The people of that age, whose hearts were deprived of faith’s glory, did not respect humans, were  unaware that humans were the most reverend beings on the Earth, and were savage enough to sell and purchase their fellow beings.
Those unfortunate people who were labeled as slaves were being sold and purchased at auctions like ordinary merchandise. The masters were fully authorized to insult, torment, and make their slaves work however they wanted.
Humanity was in desperate need of someone who would end this savagery and ingratitude and was in need of a guide who would not withhold his light of compassion from anyone.
Sectarian fights persisted
The belief in the fallacious trinity had replaced the doctrine of Tawhid, the oneness of Allah, which Hazrat Isa (Jesus) had conveyed and preached.
The priests produced a completely different religion in place of what Hazrat Isa had taught.
Likewise, other countries, particularly the Eastern Roman Empire, were committing inconceivable acts of torture and tyranny in the name of religion. For example, historians mention how Phocas, the Patrician, poisoned himself in order to escape from being forcefully converted into Christianity. 
Those who left the Mazdaism faith, which prevailed in Persia, or those who betrayed this religion were mercilessly executed. Scratching out the eyes, crucifixion, stoning, as well as starving and leaving someone to die thirsty were all standard death penalties.
While Confucianism and China had advanced in civilization, they were living their most chaotic days and were on the brink of collapsing just before the Sun of Bliss (PBUH) emerged.  Civil wars did not cease and the society was at one another’s throats due to sectarian differences.
During the period of Islam’s emergence, Abyssinia was full of clashes that occurred between siblings.
Immorality Prevailed
Humanity, which was deprived of the modesty, fear, and virtue that come from faith, was committing all sorts of lewd behavior and had trampled over its dignity and honor by freely performing vulgar acts.
Gambling, alcohol, and immoral types of pleasure found their place among daily activities. Continuous killing, continuous acts of adultery, mugging, and raids almost swept away the blessed and divine significance from humanity.
Here is one example:
Morality had been completely wiped from the Byzantine Empire and had become so dead that the patriarch of Constantinople himself solemnized the marriage between the Emperor and the latter’s own niece. 
To them, a woman was no different than a simple commodity that could be purchased and sold.
Yes, the end of sixth century A.D. was the century of such barbarism, unbelief, idolatry, ignorance and cruelty. All kinds of anarchy, blasphemy, various perverted belief systems and all kinds of debauchery were ruling the world in this century.
Humanity had probably never witnessed such perverseness, immorality, atrocity, and terror since its creation.
Humanity was devoid of a spiritual guide and was like the flowing water in an untamed river as it crashed into stones. With each crash, it lost a bit of its heart, soul, conscience, and honor. Every door that it knocked was shut on its face.
Humans had turned into beasts since they did not know who Allah, the Supreme Creator, was and had not found the essential path that He had drawn for them by means of His prophets. These wild beasts were ready to swallow someone at every minute and were smeared in blood; they caused the wind of anarchism and unrest to blow everywhere.
Humanity had become an orphan, the universe was mourning, and the Earth resembled a ring of sorrow. Everyone was considered an enemy by others, and everything was considered meaningless, soulless, and aimless.
Humanity’s sorrowful screams, which resulted from not having a true guide, were ringing in the skies; the universe, its smallest particles and the sun were crying together over humanity’s miserable condition.
The Sun of Bliss, with all of his glory, was meant to rise in the horizon of humanity so that humans could be happy. The universe’s smallest particle, its sun, its mountains, its stones, its animals, and its people would be saved from being considered insignificant, meaningless, and pointless. Everything would be known as a letter of Allah that was written and presented to be people so that they would draw lessons from them.  Pure faith could take the place of disbelief, justice could replace tyranny, peace could replace uneasiness, knowledge could take the place of ignorance, and bliss could replace misery. All believers would be friends and siblings. The universe’s rage could turn into happiness.  The stars could laugh and the atoms could whirl like dervishes. The sun, moon, ground, and sky could continue their mission lovingly and ardently.
Man should know that the real wisdom and purpose of his creation, his transfer from the darkness of non-existence to the realm of existence is to know God Almighty, to believe in Him and to worship Him. Thus, he will attain real peace and bliss.
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doomedlemur · 10 months ago
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Good Omens Fanfic Recs
I decided to write up and sort my fanfic recommendations and thoughts, mostly for my own benefit, as an organized list of my favorites for reference. But also, here it is in case anyone's interested.
Heads up, no post-season 2 fix-it fics on this list if that's what you're looking for. I've got mostly historical canon-compliance and AUs. A few post-season 1 canon-divergent.
Also, I'm a sucker for pining, but also headcanon these guys (gn) as demisexual virgins, so nearly all are ace-friendly except the long AUs.
Canon Compliant - short
In general I favor canon compliance and keeping in character. Part of what got me hooked on Good Omens fanfic was the immense breadth of history available to explore with these characters. Let's list in approximate chronological order!
Little Monkey in a Waistcoat (<1k) - Did you catch that line? Crowley spent much of the Battle for Heaven in monkey form!
A Letter from “Crawly” to Azirapil (<1k) - Fanfic in Cuneiform. Amazing.
see, how the most dangerous thing is to love (6.8k) - 1185 BC. Crawly and Aziraphale meet during the Trojan War as Achilles mourns Patroclus. Super well-researched and thought out with the Iliad! I'll be looking for more from this writer.
Cat's Charm & Serpent's Sorrow (<1k) - 942 BC. They come upon each other in a temple in Egypt.
Day 7: Alexandria (<1k) - Just a little saving of people and scrolls in the fire.
Ex Maria virgine (1.6k) - Gabriel at the annunciation! Pregnancy, how does that work??
that old common arbitrator, time (1.1k) - 1602. An epilogue of sorts for the Trojan War one, Crowley and Aziraphale critique Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida. Lots of fun references.
the stars are the same as ever (4.4k) - Vignettes about Crowley hanging out with astronomers in the 17th century.
Mean It (2k) - The origin of the Apology Dance. 1650, 1793, and 1941 all featured. Short and sweet, very believable. Just as flirty as I imagined.
Good Old-Fashioned Coffee Shop Date (1k) - 1750. Crowley goes to a coffeehouse to start an argument and guess who's also there!
well-versed in etiquette, extraordinarily nice (3k) - Jane Austen, mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery, brandy-smuggler, master spy, and wrote books too. Well-researched, with Austen-esque prose, and perfectly fills in the background for how Crowley remembers her.
Crossing Paths (3k) - Edinburgh, 1827. Showing how Crowley and Aziraphale crossed paths there, and dropping us off where the Resurrectionists minisode begins. Delightful.
Temporary Tattoo (9.8k) - Okay, this one's arguable on the canon compliance, it's kinda a crack-fic (and feels way more 19th century than 11th so I'm putting it here in the chronology) but I loved it. Crowley's snake tattoo wanders, and he can feel what it feels. (The sequel is also really sweet, though definitely canon divergent.)
I stretch out the time (and now I know why) (6k) - 1960's ineffable wives and what happened to make Aziraphale say Crowley goes too fast.
Visibilium omnium et invisibilium (5.8k) - 1969. Crowley's planning another heist! Really silly. Excellent.
Orchids and Tea (3k) - A shameless plug for my own fic. Meet the old lady downstairs who Crowley gives his "bad" plants to.
What You've Lost But Never Had (3k) - A sweet outsider POV with Maggie's closeted grandfather.
So You Need To Get Into A.Z. Fell & Co.; Now What? (A Guide For Unfortunate Bookworms) (1.8k) - Handy guide for interpreting the store hours, etc.
All of This is Completely Normal Here (6.8k) - Some pre-armageddon fun with Crowley and Aziraphale being interviewed at a police station. Crowley is a regular and they have bingo cards.
The Disposables (7.5k) - Arguably canon divergent. Surprisingly heartwarming. Eric the Disposable Demon is buds with the Usher.
When You're Through With Life and All Hope is Lost (Friends Will Be Friends) (<1k) - COVID-era ficlet post-Lockdown minisode.
The Last Four Years (11.7k) - Perfectly fills in the gap between the seasons with all the feelings and poor communication that brought us here, from the Ritz to Aziraphale's phone call.
Pointless (1.5k) - An exploration of Crowley as he is at the beginning of season 2, anxious and depressed about the pointlessness of it all.
Been Together Long? (1.2k) - It's so common for fics to depict Crowley as knowingly in love but hiding his feelings for 6000 years. But I don't think he's self-aware enough for that, and I really do believe that was an Oh moment with Nina on the street. This fic is an excellent insight into what he was thinking there.
The Afternoon Lecture (<1k) - A cute little outsider POV fic, set sometime in the Happily Ever After probably.
The Slings and Arrows of Angelic Archery (<1k) - Guess which historical/legendary figure Crowley was! Sadly just a little modern-day conversation about it rather than the actual thing. (I'm writing it though, stay tuned! 👀)
A Narrow Escape to the Country (10.7k) - This one is so fun! Crowley and Aziraphale are guests on a house-hunting TV show. (Established relationship with innuendo, but all sexy times are off-camera.)
My Roommate from Hell (5.7k) - Warlock ends up college roommates with Adam, and yeah, Warlock's upbringing made him kinda weird.
But the greatest of these is love (2.1k) - Lovely/sweet/silly garden fluff for the happily ever after.
Canon Divergent - long
Divergent in that these were written before season 2 came out, so branch off from after season 1.
Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach (99k) - This one is recommended a lot I know, but deservedly so. This was the first GO fanfic I read, as I idly looked to see what had the most kudos. And then I couldn't put it down.
Instructions Not Included (68k) - Plot heavy but excellent. I loved the writing style of this one; it's so evocative with its metaphors, but without being flowery. Sadly left a few unanswered questions since the sequel was abandoned, but it's still well worth reading. Very realistic progression of feelings between Crowley and Aziraphale (intimacy without sexuality).
The Sandford Flower Show (E) (46k) - This was a bit of a painful read with flashbacks to ancient Egypt, but it's very good. Many feels. (Higher sex-drive than I generally prefer for canonverse, so note that E rating.)
Canon Divergent - short
Slow (9.3k) - Adam assumed Crowley and Aziraphale were married and restored the bookshop with a marriage certificate on the wall. Miscommunication and sweetness ensues.
Human AUs - long (modern day)
It took me a while to warm up to the idea of reading AUs, since the immortal natures and powers of Crowley and Aziraphale are so integral to their characters (also I personally don't seek out fanfics for the smut and the highly rec'd ones are nearly always Explicit). But after seeing Slow Show in particular recommended so often, I finally gave it a go. Yes, the human versions of the characters are always different in varying ways, but I've found it really fascinating to see the different ways characters, scenes, and lines get reinterpreted in AUs and have now read way more of them than I expected to.
Slow Show (E) (95k) - I have never in my life read anything (fanfic or otherwise) as emotionally intense as Slow Show. This fic is all lust and angst and I physically felt the agony of it for days while I read. While other fics are also explicit, this is the most mature and "adult" feeling with its themes. Yes this fic is recommended a lot, but its reputation is well earned. However, that said, I wouldn't say it's my favorite.
Old Vines (E) (189k) - Excellent slow burn. This one really captures the aspect of them both being anxious/frustrated under contractual obligations, wishing they could be freer to do their own thing. Truly gratuitous descriptions of all aspects of wine, from growth, production, tasting, and quantity consumed. I learned a lot. Was also actually really inspired by Aziraphale's journey in this.
Or Be Nice (E) (151k) - I wasn't sure I'd like this one at first, but I'm glad I went for it. It's more a character study than a drama. Well done progression from enemies to lovers, and some of the very best conversational dynamics (if a bit of ngk overuse). This one highlights the petty/mischievous sides of Crowley and Aziraphale that are rarely found in fanfics, and the execution is delightful. Loved Anathema in this also.
stalwart sun, wily moon (370k) - (What, a non-explicit long AU??) This fic is amazing. Yes, long, it could use some editing to cut back a tad tbh, but still, amazing. Heist AU with an intriguing plot and life or death stakes. Characters and side characters all really well done, incorporates everything from the botched baby swap to the Great Plan and more. Amazing. Really. Only fic I've bought a physical printing of.
Talk about the weather (81k) - (Technically not explicit but yeah no they have sex.) Weatherman/stormchaser AU. They have an Arrangement. The premise of this one was weird for me because I headcanon Crowley as disliking the rain, but it's good. Not the typical characterizations you see in fics, which was really refreshing. Finally! Someone who remembers Aziraphale is kind of a bastard who doesn't say what he means, and someone who lets Crowley be happy and confident instead of a nervous wreck!
on the same page (E) (117k) - They're both writers. A very good execution of your classic fake marriage. Some lush metaphorical prose. Excellent characterizations on our pair, and the setup preceded by 6 years of intense yearning was just perfect. I do wish the side characters had gotten more fleshed out.
Married at First Sight (146k) - This premise is so silly (though then again the TV show does really exist), but it's actually really well done. The feels nearly made me cry.
And so beguile thy sorrow (48k) - Aziraphale is a librarian and Crowley is "that patron." The premise may not sound very unique, but it's excellent. Really clever. Nice slow burn. This fic remembers they are not well adjusted, and leaves a lot unsaid, which I kinda like. Highly recommended, particularly if you like fics that mirror season 1 story beats.
Find the Light (E) (97k) - Headmaster/Rock star AU. This one has a dynamic that I have been dying to see: that they know they are loved by the other, but can't speak or act on it for Reasons, while at the same time being unable to stay away from each other. Pining without uncertainty or loneliness. Love it. Really, they're too sweet and communicative to truly be in character, but it's a beautiful fic. (Written post s2 so we get Muriel and Nina, and Metatron is the villain instead of Gabriel.)
Human AUs - long (historical)
On Espionage and Prophecy (E) (133k) - Take the first season 1941 flashback and make it a novel-length human AU. Aziraphale's a bookseller and Crowley's a spy working with him to double-cross the double-crossing Nazis. I will say the plot contrivance sometimes requires a bit of suspension of disbelief, but that's okay, it's fun and has some great pining.
Half Agony, Half Hope (E) (31k) - Regency era AU, but it's not all Jane Austen fantasy-land. We've got some real history lessons here, highlighting the political struggles of the time. This one's on the short side, but doesn't really feel like it; time passes behind the scenes, so the relationship doesn't feel rushed. Overall it's excellent and really deserves more love.
Human AUs - short
On the Ethics of Asking Your Professor on a Date (7.4k) - I kinda wish this one was a bit better with the showing vs. telling in places, but I still found it really charming.
Postcards From Paris (12k) - Crowley starts receiving postcards from an A.Z.F. meant for the previous tenant, and after awhile gets a chance to write back. Very sweet.
Oh, Lord, Heal This Love (7.3k) - "Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other." Very funny and also really sweet.
Miscellaneous AUs - short
air conditioned, love unconditional (8.8k) - AU where Aziraphale is a ceiling fan and Crowley is an air conditioning unit. Look, it's adorable, okay? (though the ending is kinda silly)
Speaking in Code (8.9k) - Cute queer Outsider POV. Aziraphale and Crowley become college professors in their retirement. Arguably canon compliant, but I'm calling it an AU since I don't really see it happening. A+ for the accurate gender treatment on Aziraphale.
Lit (12.7k) - Technically canon-divergent from the book? Crowley takes a university course on literature and surprise! The book they’re discussing is Good Omens. Crack treated seriously. It works really well actually!
Like a spiral sea unending (1.1k) - Crowley is a black hole, Aziraphale is a giant star. They're drawn to each other like gravity (pun intended).
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deerheadlights · 1 year ago
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Me wanting to draw an Achaemenid noble woman living in Alexandria who's really into music and realized there are literally no resources for Achaemenid era Persian music 😭
Okay but her sister married this Macedonian cavalry guy at the wedding at Susa (this girl was just a little kid at this time) and in the time before that they had been hanging out in Susa in Parmenion's finishing school for newly orphaned noble women (that is what I choose to call it), which included all the singing girls in the choir and their music master that were captured outside Damascus.
So she was already a prodigy but the king's music master was also a crazy musical genius and they basically just genius'd together until he died from some disease. Anyway so the Macedonian cavalry guy ended up with Ptolemy during the "Funeral Games" so he, his wife and this girl moved to Alexandria. If I made this a comic, it would be based around 321 or 318, basically the other Diadochi are trying to invade Egypt, and there's drama because of course Ptolemy only trusts his Macedonian troops, but there's like lots of Greeks and Egyptians (duh) in Alexandria, and an Egyptian priestess sees this and she wants Ptolemy to win just because she knows any of the other diadochi will not be so respectful to her temple so she tries to set up like "unifying propaganda" and part of that is asking this girl to write a patriotic song to have people call themselves 'Alexandrians' instead of Macedonians, Rhodians, Cypriots, etc. And this girl says yes because it makes her feel important and also the priestess is really hot.
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hrodvitnon · 9 months ago
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Bit of a meta question here: We know that Goji and Mothra had gaming consoles in their Infant Island home and that Rodan at least is familiar with games in general, also that Maia was gonna eventually let San read the Middle-Earth books; so it can be reasonably assumed that they each know at least a decent amount of human pop culture.
This all being said, what fictional characters (if any) are the kaiju's favorites?
Bonus: Which ones would they crush on?
Turns out Titans can get just as obsessed with fictional characters as humans do! From strong but silent heroes like the Master Chief to the Fellowship in LotR, to ancient classical figures like Sun Wukong, they love a good hero; and a compelling villain you just love to hate.
As for their fictional crushes...
Goji at his age prefers to watch the video games but he finds Thel 'Vadam (the Arbiter) in Halo sexy for multiple reasons, particularly his voice. He pays a lot of attention to how Thel's mandibles move when talking.
On the subject of Halo, Kat-B320 in Reach enchanted Mothra with her accent alone; our poor Queen was devastated after the level New Alexandria, but Cortana filled the void. For a while.
It was mentioned in Shamhat, but Rodan favors Tali'Zorah nar Rayya in Mass Effect and considers her Best Girl.
Tiamat thirsts endlessly over Bayonetta.
As for Ghidorah, Ichi and Ni enjoy Kratos, particularly Greek Era Kratos when he's an unyielding engine of blind rage and vengeance all too happy to unleash destruction upon Greece if it means killing whatever so much as inconveniences him; they piss and moan about the Norse Era being "boring". (They understand Kratos has reasons for being Like That; they just only like him when he's screaming and killing.)
San would not bottom for just about anyone... but he would absolutely get on his knees for the Doom Slayer.
...and because I simply have no control over myself, they get into SIGNALIS. And proceed to never shut up about it. Mothra in particular is so heartbroken from one ending that for the first time in Titan History she actually starts writing fan fiction because she's so desperate for all the space lesbians to be happy. (Which, same.)
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raaaandomficssss · 1 year ago
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Promises
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Daryl Dixon x Fiona Masters
Alexandria era - before the saviors - fluff - angst
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Fiona and Aaron sat silently in the car on their way back from a run. Just moments before this, they had run into a small group of people. They were hoping to bring them back but they started to attack the pair. Aaron being new to fighting  wasn't much help so he relied on Fiona to step up and save the day. And save the day she did, she even got stabbed to prove it. Well, that's not why, she got stabbed so that Aaron didn't. But you know, same thing. 
“It wasn't your fault” fiona said breaking the silence 
“You can't save everyone, A.” she whispered looking at the man driving 
“I know that, I do. I know some people are to far gone, I just thought I had gotten better at figuring it out” Aaron admitted 
Fiona adjusted in the passerseat, doing her best to apply pressure to her wound. Thankfully it wasn't too deep. 
“Y’know, this probably need stitches” Fiona said trying to change the subject 
Aaron stopped the car all of a sudden, 
“So you cant hide this from Daryl?” he questioned rather quickly 
“Well i wasnt planning on it, why did you stop?” Fiona said taken aback 
“Let me see” aaron said trying to look at the wound on the womans shoulder 
“No, jesus aaron what the hell is wrong with you, can you go I am literally bleeding out?” Fiona asked the frazzled man 
“Daryls gonna kill me” he whispered more to himself 
“Daryl?” Fiona questioned 
“Yes Daryl, he made me promise!” Aaron said 
“Would you relax and just drive, this hurts” Fiona said, slightly ignoring what the man had just said.
Aaron looked at the woman tying some fabric around her wound before slowly making their way home, thankfully they were only an hour from home. 
After 5 minutes passed Fiona spoke up “so uh, what did Daryl make you promise?” she said smirking 
Sighing Aaron responded to her “damn i was hoping you forgot about that” 
“Nope” she responded popping the “p” 
“Before we left, daryl made me promise to keep you safe” he said defeated 
She just stared at the man “shut up no he didn't!” she responded not believing the man 
“Oh my god, you don't see it do you? Of course you don't!” Aaron said laughing 
“See what?” Fiona said chuckling slightly 
“Nothin’ Fi, nothin’” aaron responded softly 
Fiona decided not to push it any further. Instead she looked out the window and thought about Daryl. She thought about when they first met, how he is her best friend, how she'd die for him. She thought about what Daryl made Aaron promise, and what the hell Aaron meant by “not seeing it”. Fiona had loved Daryl for a long time, but never pushed anything with him. She was content just being his friend. She was sure he didn't feel the same way, but lately she wasn't sure. 
Lately Daryl would do things he never did before. Sure he always protected her, but he protected everyone so she never read into that. But now, he would bring her flowers he would find. Just last week Daryl found her a book and every night she reads a couple pages to him. Fiona sometimes catches Daryl staring at her and unlike before when he would look away, this time he held eye contact giving her a small smile. 
She tried not to read into it but it was hard. All the little things had to mean something right?
“Fi? You ready?” Aaron said pulling her out of her thoughts 
The woman just nodded, slowly and carefully getting out of the small car. By now, a small group of people have formed around the car to help unload the supplies. 
Fiona had tried to help unload but was stopped by a concerned looking Carl “you need a doctor, you’re bleeding” he said putting his hands on Fiona’s elbows
“I’m fine Little G, just a scratch” she smiled weakly 
The young grimes boy just looked at Fiona. She knew better than to argue with the stubborn teen, she nodded slightly before making her way over to the infirmary. 
Fiona approached the door and knocked lightly walking in. “Hellooooo?” Fiona questioned 
“In here!” denise called back 
Fiona walked towards the doctor's voice and saw her with her head in a book. 
“Just a couple stitches please doc?” Fiona said smiling at Denise 
“You know the drill, wont take long” Denise responded sweetly 
Fiona was here often, she was a clumsy girl. Often throwing herself in danger to save others, so she was no stranger to this. Fiona and Denise didn't speak. It made the whole process go by faster, and thankfully it was over before Fiona’s mind had a chance to wonder.
“Thanks Doc, I owe you” Fiona said slowly putting her shirt back on 
“no –” Denise began before she was cut off 
“Fiona!” Daryl called out 
“He sounds pissed” Fiona said to herself 
“Yeah, good night Fiona” The doctor said chuckling 
“Hey daryl she's in there” Denise said walking by the angry man 
Daryl wasted no time going over to the injured girl 
“Lemme see it” he demanded 
“I am fine Daryl, its bandaged anyway” Fiona said dismissing his request 
Daryl scoffed, backing away, “the hells the matter with you?” 
“What?” Fiona said in disbelief 
“Aaron said you jumped in front of the knife Fiona! Who does that?” Daryl said frustrated 
“I was saving Aarons life!” she defended 
“And what about your life?” Daryl said getting more upset
“What about it Daryl? I am right here and all you're doing is yelling! What the hell is the matter with you?” she looked at him, waiting for him to answer but, he couldn't find the words. She was right, she was here and he was being a dick. He didn't mean to get so upset but the thought of losing her made him sick to his stomach. 
He took a deep breath before quietly whispering “m’ sorry” 
Her gaze softened at the man in front of her 
“You made him promise, didnt you?” she asked stepping closer to him 
Daryl just shrugged, he couldn't find all the words he wanted to say. 
She smiled softly at him, slowly pulling him into a hug before saying “its you and me until the end Dixon, I will always come back to you” 
and in that moment Daryl knew, he would never let her go and that was a promise.
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A/N: thanks for reading! I am super new to writing so any feedback would be great! Hope you enjoyed (: <3 - N
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theteasetwrites · 3 years ago
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For a Friend | Part 1
❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 9 (during six year time jump) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: illness, references to sex ❧ Word Count: 3.5k
❧ Requested by @hereditarydeath (thank you!)
❧ Summary: You fall ill, and despite your insistence, Daryl travels to Alexandria to fetch you medicine. While there, he can no longer deny one simple fact to his friends: he’s in love.
❧ A/N: Such a cute idea from the master of cute ideas. I love Daryl getting teased about his relationship, since it is so out of character for him. Also nothing I love more than soft, caring, protective Daryl, making sure his lady love is healthy and happy. Truly on his king shit. Oh, and definitely prefer this reader character to she who shall not be named...
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In a world in which bad luck was essentially unavoidable, you had managed to achieve the impossible: not getting sick.
Granted, you might’ve faced a sinus infection or two in the past five years since the world more or less ended, but nothing was so bad that you couldn’t use whatever you had lying about to ease your way through it.
That is, until now.
You were in denial for a few days when the nausea settled in, but soon you realized that you had a bad case of the common flu. Chills, fever, muscle aches, vomiting, coughing… You had everything, except medicine.
It wasn’t all doom and gloom, though. At least you had Daryl by your side.
Ah, yes… Daryl. He came into your life a year or so ago. Both of you were alone, him searching the woods for his best friend who had disappeared under mysterious (and rather dramatic) circumstances, and you wandering around, looking for somewhere to call home after you lost your group.
Somehow, the rather wild looking man, whose jeans had more tatters and patches in them than you could count, and hair unkempt and reaching his wide, strong shoulders, had become more than just a man who took pity on you, taking you under his wing and protecting you out of the kindness of his heart.
No, it was much more than that, and one night, when his eyes were particularly wild and dark, he took you in his arms to kiss you. It was the first time in so long you’d felt anything besides fear or hunger or exhaustion, and all you wanted from that point on was to be with him, just him, and to grow old together in some old cabin in the woods.
More or less, that was what happened, though there was really no name for whatever the two of you had. Labels weren’t necessary, since Daryl was the only other human being you had seen for a year now, so no one else really needed to know what you meant to each other. It was just unspoken, mutually agreed upon, no-nonsense love.
So when your flu seemed to be getting worse, with no end in sight to the horrible coughing fits and body aches, Daryl began to insist upon something you were wholeheartedly against: taking you to the settlement where he once lived.
“N-no,” you coughed out, covering your mouth as you did so. “Daryl, please. I don’t need any medicine, really. I’ve got all these herbs and stuff.” You broke out into another brief fit of coughing, Daryl’s eyes worriedly watching you from the other side of the bedroom as he threw on his poncho. “I don’t need to see a doctor, either.”
He huffed and sat down beside you, resting the back of his hand on your forehead as he’d been doing for a while now since you got sick.
“You’re still runnin’ a fever,” he said. “And those herbs ain’t workin’. Alexandria’s got real meds, IV’s, doctors… Siddiq, he’s good. He’ll get you feelin’ better again. Just gotta get ya there.”
You shook your head, sitting up a little in protest, but he quickly settled his strong hands upon your quite weak shoulders to push you back against your pillow.
“Daryl,” you sighed, “I—I haven’t been around anyone else in so long. It’s just been us, and I’m a little… Well, I’m a little afraid.”
He tilted his head in confusion, his features softening at your admission. “‘Fraid of what, sunshine? I won’t let anything happen to ya, and everyone at Alexandria is good. Real good. Nothin’ to be afraid of.” He raised his hand to caress your cheek, and offered a soft, crooked smile to ease your worries.
That face of his could melt your entire body with just one little quirk of his lips, the ones you knew so well from all the times he’d kissed you, and dragged his warm mouth over every inch of your body. There wasn’t anyone else in the world you trusted now, no one besides Daryl. Maybe that was misguided. After all, it was important to be able to trust people these days, even if most of them were out for themselves. You at least needed to try.
Still, you’d seen so much hatred in the world, watched your entire group murdered by bandits, and lost too much from taking chances. You were sure one day you’d be ready to meet Daryl’s friends, to join him in visiting them, or maybe to even live with them when Daryl was ready to return to the fold, but you just weren’t ready yet.
Besides, your body felt like jelly, and there wasn’t a part of you that wasn’t in some kind of dull, throbbing pain. You were sure that even if you were ready to leave your little slice of Heaven, you wouldn’t be able to get far out of bed.
“I know it’s safe,” you said hoarsely, and cleared your throat a little to try to clear away the buildup of mucus. “And I know they’re good… It’s just that… I’m not ready yet. I will be, but not now.”
He nodded solemnly, but with an understanding you’d seen before in him. He always understood you, respected every boundary you had, just as you respected his.
“What do ya want me to do, then?” he asked, holding your cold hands in his. You could tell just how worried he was, wrapping the end of his poncho around both of them and rubbing the fabric against your palms with much fervor. “I can’t let ya go on like this. This flu’s gonna…” He trailed off, terrified to even think about you—
“Daryl,” you said, “I’ll be fine, just as long as you’re here with me. I love you.”
He lowered his head bashfully, though you could just make out a hint of a smile underneath that curtain of brown hair. Though you’d both been saying those three powerful words for a while now, it never ceased to bring a blush to his cheeks.
Still, he shook his head, and looked back up to you with a determined face. “Nah,” he said. “Maybe you ain’t goin’, but I’m goin’. I’m gonna get you some of that medicine, make ya all better again.”
Your eyes widened, and you shook your head rapidly, causing your aching head to feel as though your brain was rattling around in your skull.
“No,” you said, a tinge of vulnerability to your shaky, hoarse voice. “Please, Daryl… Don’t leave me alone here.”
“Won’t be alone,” he said. “I’ll leave ya with Dog. ‘Sides, it’s only a few hours away. I’ll be back ‘fore ya know it, and just think about how much better you’re gonna feel when we get some real meds in ya. You’ll be drivin’ me nuts again in no time.”
You laughed and coughed all at once. “H-hey, you know I just do it out of love.”
“Yeah,” he said, still warming your hands with his poncho. “I know.”
As much as you didn’t want him to leave, you knew you could handle being on your own for just a while, even in your state of illness. Dog was a good protector, too, so you convinced yourself that everything would be fine. Daryl would be back soon, and he’d bring medicine, which was beginning to sound better and better with each hour that passed alternating between chills and hot flashes.
Daryl was already recognized and welcomed as he rode through the gates on his bike that afternoon. Michonne came jogging towards him, rocking back and forth as she hugged him.
“Long time no see,” she said. “How long’s it been, a year?”
“About.”
She folded her arms as she studied his face, and immediately recognized in her old friend the tell-tale signs of worry.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I know that look.”
At least, she knew a part of it. There was a hint of something else in there she couldn’t really recognize.
He sighed. “I need some medicine.”
“For what?” she asked. “Are you okay?” She immediately began examining his body for injuries. “You need to see Siddiq? We can get you in with him right now.”
“Nah,” he said, waving his hand to dismiss the offer. “It ain’t for me. It’s for, uh… a friend of mine. Got some flu.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve got a friend out there?”
Daryl shifted nervously as he walked with Michonne towards the infirmary, dreading the inevitable barrage of questions.
“Uh, yeah,” he said between chewing his bottom lip.
“You should’ve brought him here,” she said. “Siddiq could’ve given him a thorough check-up.”
He was confused for a moment, forgetting that Michonne had no idea you were a woman.
“She’s a little… ‘fraid of comin’ out here right now, and she’s real weak from the sickness.”
Michonne stopped abruptly, eyes wide and a smirk creeping up on her face.
“Hold on,” she said, holding her hands up. “Your friend’s a woman?”
Daryl scoffed, and adjusted the strap of his crossbow nervously. There was nothing he had to be embarrassed about. Maybe you were just a woman he was friends with, or even an elderly woman. Just by mentioning that you were, indeed, a woman didn’t necessarily signal that he was romantically involved with you.
Oh, but he was.
“Uh, yeah. (Y/N)... What, I can’t have a girl friend?” He cleared his throat and shook his head when he realized what he’d said. “I—I mean, a friend who’s a girl. She ain’t my—”
He cut himself off, coming to the realization that he didn’t really know what you were. What he knew was that he loved you, that he held you at night in his arms, and felt your body underneath him to the point that every curve, every faded scar and mark upon your skin, became second nature. The topography of your body was almost more familiar to him than the woods he’d been searching endlessly for the past two years.
“Your what?” she prodded, nudging his shoulder teasingly. He should’ve known this would happen. He only wished he’d thought of something else to say instead of bringing you up, but then, you were important to him, so why shouldn’t Michonne know? “Your girlfriend?”
Ah, yes. That was why—because she was for sure never going to stop bothering him about it.
“Is she pretty?” she asked, walking with him up the steps to the infirmary.
Daryl shook his head, trying to hold back a slightly amused smirk all the while.
“(Y/N)... That’s a pretty name. She must be pretty.”
She’s a goddess, he thought, and had half a mind to show her the grainy Polaroid he kept of you in his pocket, just to get her to stop asking, but then, she’d probably tease him about the little memento he kept with him, too.
“Will you stop?” he finally barked half-heartedly. “All ya need to know is that she’s sick, okay?”
“Who’s sick?” asked Siddiq.
“Daryl’s girlfriend,” answered Michonne.
Siddiq looked wide-eyed at Daryl, then broke out into a smirk. “You got a lady, Daryl?”
He sighed. “I… I guess.”
“You guess?” he asked. “How can you guess? You either do or you don’t.”
“Yeah,” he huffed after a few moments of deliberating, and preparing himself to face more teasing. “I got a lady.”
“What?” laughed Rosita as she came out from the other room. “No way.”
Daryl was taken aback, now slightly offended that everyone was so surprised. “It that hard to believe?”
“Just… didn’t know you even thought about that kind of thing,” she replied.
Usually, he didn’t, but with you, he didn’t even consider how out of character it was for him to indulge in that mysterious concept of love. It just came naturally, and felt right, to the point he never even thought about naming what the two of you had. He just knew what it was, and you did, too, so he didn’t worry about trying to come up with any words for it. Besides, it wasn’t like he often saw other people these days, so the opportunity to explain what you meant to him to others had never presented itself.
Now, it was jarring to have to think about it, though vocalizing to others that you were his was quite satisfying, he had to admit.
“You two got a little love shack or something?” asked Michonne with a wide, teasing grin.
“Got a cabin,” he answered gruffly, quickly getting tired of this prodding. “She’s sick,” he said firmly to Siddiq. “Got a bad flu. Think she’ll be fine so long as we get some real medicine in ‘er. You got some stuff for that?”
He nodded, and turned to riffle through one of the medicine cabinets in the kitchen. “We got lots of antibiotics. Just did a run a few days ago, actually. Got some good stuff.”
“I bet you’ve been taking great care of her,” said Rosita, exchanging sly, knowing smiles with Michonne. “Have you been taking care of her, Daryl?”
He furrowed his brows at the question, and Rosita’s strangely lilted tone. “‘Course,” he said with a shrug, watching Siddiq as he filled a satchel full of medicine and other supplies. “Makin’ sure she gets plenty of rest, drinks lots of water, eats ‘er food…”
“Keeping her warm?” asked Michonne.
“Mhm,” he answered seriously, still unaware that Rosita and Michonne were very much in the midst of teasing him. “Woman’s got ‘bout ten blankets on ‘er… Why?”
Rosita shook her head and laughed. “Daryl,” she said, “we’re asking if you’ve been… intimate with her.”
“You don’t have to answer that, Daryl,” said Siddiq, handing him the practically overflowing bag of medical supplies, along with a sheet from a legal pad detailing instructions for everything. “They’re nosy.”
Daryl was taken aback, and a bloom of rosy splotches appeared on his cheeks as he rubbed his nose nervously. “Uh… I—I…”
“Mmm,” hummed Rosita with a nod of her head. “That’s a yes.”
For all their teasing, the Alexandrians were helpful, sending Daryl back with a multitude of supplies, as much as he could fit on his bike, anyway.
Just as he was loading up, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned around to see Siddiq.
“One more thing,” he said, looking around as if he were about to engage in a drug deal. “I didn’t want to pack them in front of Michonne and Rosita, but I thought you might… need them.”
He procured a ziplock bag of colorful squares from his coat pocket, which Daryl immediately recognized: condoms.
His eyes widened, and quickly he snatched the bag from his hands, stuffing it into his vest pocket and looking around to make sure no one saw.
“Never said I needed ‘em,” he said quietly to Siddiq.
“Well,” sighed Siddiq, hardly able to hold back his amusement at the usually tough, rather threatening man’s bashfulness, “I just assumed. Obviously, wait til she’s all better before you… use them. No physical exertion.”
Daryl shook his head and huffed at the recommendation, still quite embarrassed, but trying his best to hide it. “Right… Uh, thanks.”
The familiar hum of his bike stirred you from your fever dream, and Dog jumped excitedly at the front door, scratching at the thing until Daryl lumbered through.
“Hey, boy,” he cooed at the canine, petting him with his free hand. “Outta the way, go on.”
Dog led him to the bedroom, where your muscles ached as you sat yourself up to see him.
“Hi,” you said, your voice still scratchy from the illness. “You really weren’t gone long.”
He smiled and sat himself down beside you, opening up the satchel and beginning to sort out all of the medicine on the nightstand beside you.
“Told ya,” he said. “What, you didn’t think I’d leave forever, did ya?”
You sleepily blinked your eyes and smiled ever so slightly at his fresh, handsome face. “No, I know you would’ve come back for the—” Your coughing broke up the sentence. “D-dog.”
He brushed your hair back and felt your forehead. “Hey, fever’s goin’ down a little. Ya feel any better?”
You shrugged as you sank back into your pillow. “A little. Still got these awful aches.”
He rattled an orange bottle of pills. “Got the good stuff.”
“What, OxyContin?”
He tilted his head and scoffed a little at your joke. “Nah, antibiotics. Got some aspirin, too. You’re gonna be feelin’ good in no time, sunshine. Sit up.”
He held your glass of water and a little pile of pills in his hands, then handed each to you for you to swallow.
“Got some cough syrup in here, too.” He rummaged through the bag and pulled out even more medical supplies, causing you to laugh a little.
“Oh, Daryl, you didn’t have to bring back all that stuff for me. I’m already starting to feel a little better.”
He shook his head as he poured a bit of plum colored cough syrup into the little measuring cup it came with.
“Nah, had to. Gotta get you well again. Open up.” He held the cup to your lips, and poured it gently into your mouth.
“I love you,” you said sleepily, watching him recap the bottle of cough syrup moments later.
“Love you too,” he said, and kissed your forehead with the softness of a dewdrop. “Go back ta sleep now. I’ll be right here.”
You pulled him down by the collar of his shirt to kiss his cheek. “I don’t want to sleep,” you said, brushing your fingers through his soft, chestnut colored hair. “I want to be awake with you, talk with you… How was Alexandria?”
“Fine,” he said as he swung his legs over the bed and pulled the covers over both of you. “Everyone was, uh… askin’ about ya.”
You smiled with softly closed eyes, looking like the most angelic being his mind could ever conjure up, even in the midst of your illness.
“Why? Did you mention me, mister?”
He shrugged as he played with the strap of your nightgown. “Maybe… Hard not to. You were all I could think about. Still are. Always are.”
“Aww,” you cooed, squeezing his nose between your fingers as you did. “What did you say about me?”
“Just that… Well, said you’re my lady.”
You raised an eyebrow at that. “Your lady?”
He swallowed hard, hoping that wasn’t crossing your boundaries. “I mean, you are my lady, right? My, uh… girlfriend?”
You were about to say something, but let out a loud sneeze just before, then sniffled and coughed from the tickle in your sinuses.
“Of course… I just didn’t know you thought of me like that.”
“How else would I think of you? I love you.”
“Just never thought about it, I guess. Never had to… explain to anyone, you know? So, you’re my boyfriend then, right, baby?” You snuggled closer to his chest, smiling at him as you watched his face scrunch a little in faux annoyance at the term. “Or do you prefer partner? Surely not husband… Or, I guess we could say we’re married, huh?”
“You can call me anythin’ ya want,” he said, twirling his finger around your hair. “Jus’ as long as I’m your man, and you’re my woman.”
“Mmm,” you hummed against his chest, taking in his sweet, earthy scent, fresh from the woods and the surrounding pine trees. “I’m your woman…”
Moving your hand under his vest and above his shirt, you began to notice an odd sensation: the crinkling of plastic.
“What’s this?”
From his pocket emerged the baggy of condoms, held out in your shaky hand, cold from exposure to the air outside of your blankets.
“Oh,” he huffed. “Uh… Siddiq gave ‘em to me.”
You laughed and shook your head as you stretched over Daryl’s broad chest to lay the baggy on the nightstand.
“What exactly did you tell them about me, hm?”
“Nothin’! Swear, didn’t tell ‘em nothin’ about our…”
“Sex life,” you added, and trailed your eyes back to that bag of condoms, filled with the most you’d seen in a while. Surely, Daryl wouldn’t have to go out looking for any for a while, which meant plenty of time to use them.
“When I get better, mister Dixon, I’m going to be all over you like a—a—achoo!”
He laughed and scruffed up your hair before kissing your forehead once more.
“Can’t wait.”
As you fell asleep in his arms, your hair draped over his chest, and your raspy breathing already beginning to clear, he felt a sudden wave of peace, brought on not only by your imminent recovery, but by the fact that you saw him just as he saw you.
Next time he visited Alexandria, he thought, he’d be sure to take you, both to get Michonne and the others to stop pestering him, and to show off his… lady.
~
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Masterlist
Part 2
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 year ago
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Words: 3,834 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: language, blood and gore, some sexuality, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Master List!
Previous Chapter here
Summary: Y/N and Daryl soak in their newfound closeness before heading out for a quick chore and some time together.
Your name: submit What is this?
It was one of the gentlest wakings you could remember—being pulled slowly from sleep by the soft shuffling of one of the dogs on the rug after a deep night of sleep that was free from new nightmares or bad memories. And then you became aware of his warmth and weight beside you. Even through your closed eyelids Daryl was steady and strong. You opened them to find his blue eyes already fixed on your face and then he smiled, almost a little abashedly as if you’d caught him at something he shouldn’t be doing, and your lips curved into a smile that mirrored his.
You drew in a deep, sustaining breath and shifted among the mess of sheets. There was a space between you and Daryl, but only a small one.
“You couldn’t sleep in?” you asked him gently. You could tell by the filtered light that it was much later than either of you usually rose.
“Nah, I coulda gone back to sleep,” he said. His voice was extra gravelly. “But once I woke up, I just—didn’t wanna close my eyes again,” he said. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. “I ain’t been awake long though. Actually managed a pretty good night’a sleep for once.”
“Good. That’s good.” You paused and bit your bottom lip subconsciously. “Wonder why that is,” you said warmly.
Daryl let out an amused exhale. “No idea,” he drawled.
You smiled softly and sighed and then couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you. The cabin always grew cold overnight without anyone tending the fires.
Daryl immediately looked concerned. “Ya cold?”
“A little,” you admitted. “Just because the fire went out while we slept.”
He started to shift in the blankets.
“What’re you doing?” you asked, leaning up on an elbow.
“Yer cold. ‘M gonna get the fires goin’ again, warm this place up.”
“Don’t.”
Daryl gave you a questioning look, one hand still on the quilt, ready to throw it off and slip out of bed.
“Just—come warm me up instead?” you said softly. “Please?”
His eyebrow quirked up at that. “What’d ya have in mind exactly?” he asked.
“Whatever you think is best,” you said with a small laugh.
He studied your face for a long moment and then moved in toward you. He reached for you, a little hesitantly at first, but more needily when you shifted closer to him, moving into his arms. He tucked you up against him and you nestled into the crook of his neck and sighed contentedly. Your fingers fanned out against his bare chest. “This is perfect,” you breathed. “Thank you.”
He chuckled and you heard it reverberating deeply in his chest. “Warmer?”
“Yeah,” you sighed.
“Happy to help. ’M practically a furnace. Definitely more of an advantage here than when I was growin’ up in Georgia,” he drawled.
“Mmm. I bet,” you hummed. Your fingertip traced the edge of one of the scars on his chest and you leaned in and kissed it. Daryl’s hand smoothed down your arm and onto your waist, following the crest of your hip and then landing on your leg. His fingers grazed over the scarred landscape of your upper leg and at first you flinched away, but his touch was so gentle and steady that you let go of your gripping anxiety and settled in again. You flushed with heat when his hand drifted away and departed to your thigh. His fingertips dimpled into the softness there and then he drew your leg toward his body until it was draped over his. Electric tingles seemed to erupt all over your skin. Your teeth nestled into the pillow of your bottom lip. You nuzzled in against his neck and kissed it gently.
Daryl responded by gently squeezing your thigh.
You kissed his neck again, this time lingering with your lips against his skin.
Goosebumps erupted on Daryl’s skin and he let out a sigh that had a raspy edge to it. You smiled and pulled slightly back so you could look into his face. You hand landed lightly on his chest. The look he gave you was needy.
“What do you say to me letting the dogs out and feeding them, brushing our teeth, and meeting back in here for a hot shower?” you asked him.
Daryl’s eyes flickered over your face. “I say I must be fuckin’ dreamin’.”
You gently trapped a strand of his hair between your fingers and followed its gentle wave down to the end. “You’re not. I’m at least 95% sure.”
“I’ll get the fires goin’ again too while ya let the dogs out. But dun take too long.”
“I won’t.”
Though you both were a little loathe to separate, you untangled yourselves and Daryl threw the covers back and pulled on his discarded pants. He grabbed his shirt off the floor getting ready to pull it on.
“Can I borrow that?” you asked, still shrouded in the sheets.
“This?” he asked, gesturing with his button up. “Ya wanna borrow it?”
“Yeah. Just for five minutes,” you said.
He tossed it to you and watched you pull it on and button it up. It swallowed you up and hung on your smaller frame. You slipped out of bed, your hands tucked in the sleeves. Daryl looked you up and down.
“What do you think?” you asked, laughing at his expression.
“If ya promise to wear it jus’ like that all the time, ya can keep it,” he drawled. He gulped, suddenly nervous again as he wondered at how goddamn beautiful you were, even with sleep messed hair and hidden in his clothes. How the hell had Brian’s dying wish led to here?
You moved past him to greet the dogs, but your fingertips brushed over his bare skin and he shivered from the electric chill they elicited. “Meet you right back here in five minutes?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, nudging his nose up at you in that characteristic Daryl-way.
Dogs pottied and fed, coffee brewing in the kitchen, teeth brushed, you headed back into your bedroom to find Daryl sitting on the side of the bed, petting Strider. A fire was crackling happily in the hearth again. Your heart lifted at the sight of him.
He looked up at the soft padding of your feet and again drank in the sight of you in just his shirt. His chest seemed to burst with heat. You smiled at him. That damn smile, just for him. It didn’t seem to make any fucking sense, but there it was.
“Still up for that shower?” you asked, feeling suddenly a little more shy. You fiddled with your hands hidden in the long sleeves of his shirt.
He nodded. “Yeah. If you are.”
You nodded back. “Yeah. I am.”
Maybe he could sense your sudden vulnerability, or maybe he was just being him but he got up and crossed the space to you and pulled you in against him gently, one hand on your hip and one moving to clasp your face. His eyes flickered between yours. “Ya wanna know ‘bout the first time I thought ya were beautiful?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It was when I woke up on that mat of skins all covered over in blankets in front of the fire, nothin’ on but my damn boxers. And I looked up, and there ya were, just sittin’ on the couch eatin’ a bowl of somethin’, starin’ at me. Sure, I was disoriented and confused as hell, but I just stared at ya and thought ‘Who the hell is this goddamn beautiful woman and why the fuck is she lookin’ at me?’ And then it just never seemed to make any sense… Still don’t really,” he said, ducking his head. “And then I got to know ya and ya got more beautiful every fuckin’ day. And before I knew it, I was in too deep to get out. It was like plungin’ into that frozen lake.”
“You’re one to talk… What kind of person crosses damn near the entire country in a fucking apocalypse to find the sister of a—of a dead man? Just because he asked? And the more I get to know you, the more I realize that’s just who you are. You’ll do anything for the people you care about. It’s a miracle you made it here in one piece and even more of a miracle that we somehow stumbled on each other.”
“I dun exactly believe in God or fate, but tha’s as good’a argument as I’ve ever heard,” Daryl drawled.
“Exactly.”
He leaned down and kissed your forehead softly. “C’mon. I need that hot shower. ‘M cold. Somebody stole my damn shirt.”
You grinned up at him and a laugh bubbled out of you. The next moment you laced your fingers with his and tugged him toward the bathroom.
_ _ _ _ _ _
You and Daryl couldn’t stop smiling at each other. You were still drying off after a rather steamy shower… Daryl felt as though he could still hear the noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you ringing in his ears. Flashes of the water cascading over your collarbone or running along the angle of your shoulder blade as he pressed you against the wall burst in his mind’s eye and—
“Daryl?”
He suddenly realized you were talking to him. “Hmm?”
You laughed and smiled at him, a flush in the apples of your cheeks. “I was asking what you wanted to do today?”
“S—sorry. Uhh… I dunno.” More of what you’d just done would be nice. His cheeks flushed.
You were still smiling at him. “It’s okay. I had an idea,” you said.
“What’s that?”
“Have you ever seen elk up close?” you asked.
“Nah. Not really. I saw some from far out when I was travelin’ here, but that’s it,” he drawled. “Why?”
“I know where the herds hang out in the winter. They’re pretty amazing to see up close. I thought we could go. It’s not too far.”
Daryl gave you a fond look and your heart fluttered. “That sounds—sounds real good. There’s one other thing though…”
“Hmm?”
He nervously rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, we should prob’ly check those walker traps we put up the other day.” His stomach dropped at the thought of it. He hadn’t told you that the snares had been triggered the day before and he still needed to dispose of those corpses. The thought of it brought forward more serious conversations that he was dreading trying to broach; the valley flooded with walkers, the fast runners, him having to leave to get back to everyone in the east and the thought of what if you wouldn’t come with… especially now that he’d realized how head over heels he was for you.
You finished pulling your socks on and looked up at him. “You think there will be anything in them?” Daryl thought he heard a slight edge of apprehension in your tone.
“Mmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, and then he nodded. “I dunno...” Better tell you now than dragging it on any longer. “But there were some in the snares yesterday.”
Your face dropped. “Oh. Really?”
He nodded, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna ruin the evenin’ again yesterday after the storm and everythin’. ‘M sorry I didn’t tell ya right away.”
Your brow furrowed deeply. “How many were—” You broke off and Daryl could almost see how your mind was whirling. “How many?” Your eyes were a little wide as you looked up at him.
Daryl wished he could tell you otherwise, but he couldn’t. “Three in the snares but I saw more tracks while I was out there. Course they coulda been made by the same ones. I dunno…”
You seemed frozen for a long moment, staring off vaguely at the space ahead of you. At length, you shook your head. “I don’t understand how they’re getting this far up. They shouldn’t be getting this far up the mountain…” You said it more to yourself than to him.
Daryl gulped. “I know.”
You sighed heavily and nervously bit the inside of your cheek. “Alright. Well… we better check those then,” you said, climbing to your feet.
“Ya comin’ with?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I want to see what’s out there. Then after, if we feel up to it, I can show you the elk.” You managed to give him a tight smile, but both of you could sense that the bubble of bliss you’d been cloaked in since the previous night had burst. With the thought of the infected weighing heavily on your minds, being tangled in the sheets together and colliding under the steamy shower spray suddenly felt like a lifetime ago.
In a few minutes, you and Daryl were geared up and bundled for the cold. The dogs burst through the cabin door into the snow and bounded happily among the drifts. You slung your recurve bow up on your shoulder and stowed your knife on your hip. “Ready?” you asked.
Daryl was armed and waiting. “Yeah. Followin’ you,” he said. You both stepped out into the deep snow.
It was still quite cold, but less bitter than had been left in the wake of the storm the day before. The dogs seemed to be soaking up the sunshine as they tunneled their noses under the snow and then stopped to sniff the air. You found yourself slightly on edge and watching their body language and behavior closely. Those fucking runners were on your mind. Your eyes scanned the snow and more than once you thought you heard a stick snap in the woods and froze to listen. Having Daryl beside you helped immensely, but you still were hypervigilant.
Eventually you rounded a little knoll and slowed your pace. The snares were just up ahead. Before you even reached them you stopped cold. There was a bright red spot in the snow.
Daryl swung his crossbow down off his shoulder and stepped around you. “What is it?” He stopped and knelt down to look at the blood droplet. He glanced up at you with a furrowed brow.
“That’s really fresh,” you said. You nocked an arrow on your bow and glanced at the dogs. They stood nearby, rigid and listening, noses sniffing incessantly up in the air. Strider let out a low growl.
“Yeah,” Daryl agreed softly, standing and scanning the surroundings. “C’mon. These tracks lead off toward the snares anyway.”
You followed behind him now. He took the lead instinctively, protectively, and you relinquished it to him without argument. As you got closer to the snares, you both began to hear faint growling sounds and Strider barked and charged ahead, his hackles raised. Bear took off after him.
As you plunged after them into the trees, you came upon three walkers hoisted by their legs in the snares. The corpses Daryl had left behind the day before were still piled but had obviously been gnawed on only to prove too frozen.
“Shit,” you murmured, lowering your bow. You paced forward past Daryl and stopped almost directly underneath them. You stared up at them, your expression dark. “Strider. Bear. Heel.”
The dogs stopped their circling beneath the infected and came to your sides. You watched the walkers swaying like some kind of perverse piñatas.
“Here,” Daryl said gently. “Just step back a little. I’ll get ‘em.” He touched you lightly on the sleeve.
“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” you murmured. You seemed to come out of your trance and you raised you bow again, drawing it back and letting an arrow fly squarely into the forehead of the closest walker reaching for you where it dangled. It stilled and a thick trickle of blood oozed down and dripped into the snow. You walked forward and retrieved your arrow before repeating the process with the remaining caught infected. The final one, however, was clearly not of the typical sluggish variety. It moved violently in the snare, its arms flailing with alarming speed as it growled and yelled and attempted to reach you. You felt nauseous as you nocked your arrow one final time and it was more difficult to aim with the runner’s frantic movements spinning and swinging it on the end of the rope. But when you let your arrow go, it landed with deadly accuracy. The silence that fell seemed deafening and neither you, nor Daryl, or even the dogs moved for a long moment. The bodies continued to sway in front of you slightly.
Finally, Daryl glanced back over at you, trying to read your face. It was marked with deep disconcertion. “Ya okay?” he asked.
You pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh and shook your head. “Not really.” You finally looked over at him and your eyes seem large and worried, as if the rest of you was shrinking away in front of him. “Another one of those—those runner things,” you said. “Fuck.” You ducked your head and ran a hand over your face. Bear sat down beside you and whined, clearly sensing your mood. You reached over absently and sunk your fingertips into his thick fur.
Daryl went to each snare and lowered the bodies, pulling them to the pile of the infected from the day before. While he reset the snares, you unpacked a load dry wood from your pack and tossed it on, adding green pine boughs to the pile too. Daryl poured on the mix of oil and gas he’d brought from the shop and threw a lit match on.
The two of you stood side by side and watched it burn for a long time without speaking. The snow around it hissed and sizzled. The wood popped. The forest around you was silent. Finally, you shifted beside him.
“We’re probably gonna have to come back with more wood and stuff tomorrow. Finish mopping up this mess.”
Daryl nodded. “Yeah.” His fingers moved anxiously over his crossbow, fiddling with this and that. “Ya wanna just go home?” he asked, hazarding a glance at your expression again.
You paused thoughtfully for a moment and then tried to rally yourself. “No. I’m not gonna let a few of these undead fucks ruin our whole day.” You straightened up and met his eyes.
He gave you a half-smile. “Well, tha’s good. ‘Cause somebody promised me an elk today.”
“Are you still up for it?” you asked, for the first time realizing how truly worried he had looked only moments ago.
“Hell yeah,” he drawled. He shouldered his bow again. “Lead the way.”
You whistled to the dogs and left the snares behind. It took you a little time to find the path you wanted to take in the deep snow, but once you found the stone marker you’d placed yourself years ago, the walk was easier. Deep game trails were already cut through the drifts by deer and other wildlife and you were able to pass easily over the compacted snow. The walk was scenic and Daryl found himself stopping every so often to admire some glen that seemed iced in fairytale white or to peer up at a jagged rock outcropping that towered overhead. You always noticed when he’d slowed or stopped and you would pace back to stand beside him and appreciate the scene too. And then he often found himself gazing at you instead.
“Come on, quit that,” you laughed once, having caught him looking at you instead of at the partially frozen little creek you’d both stopped beside.
The corners of his eyes crinkled a little in the ghost of a smile. “Why?”
“Because it’s making me blush,” you retorted. There was definitely heat blooming in your face.
He shrugged. “I can’t tell. Yer cheeks are already pink from the cold.”
You’d linked your arm with his and leaned your head against his shoulder then. The gentle babbling of the creek was a perfect soundtrack and lifted both of your spirits after the grim discovery earlier. “Come on. We’re almost there.”
Daryl let you slip apart from him and followed behind you again. You led him down a little dip into a coulee which widened into an open area rimmed with trees. You slowed and began to move quietly, digging into the side pocket of your pack for your binoculars. You scanned the snow and soon began to see elk prints. You pointed them out to Daryl. “The herd likes to hang out around here in the winter. It’s protected from the wind and has plenty of browse.”
Daryl examined the hoof print, awed by the size of it. “When do ya think these are from? Last night?”
“Mmm,” you nodded, looping the strap of your binoculars around your neck. “Looks like. Come on.” You made the dogs walk beside you again and began to weave through the trees to a spot you usually were able to conceal yourself in and have some good views of the elk herd lounging.
But Daryl nearly ran into you when you stopped dead in front of him.
“Y/N?” He could feel how your body tensed. “S’goin’ on?”
He watched as you raised the binoculars to your eyes and peered through them. Your voice was airy and disconnected when you tried to speak. “There’s a—I think there’s an elk kill ahead but it’s—it doesn’t—”
Daryl’s heart started to pound. “Doesn’t what?”
“It doesn’t look right,” you said. “Something—something’s wrong.”
“What d’ya mean?” Daryl squinted ahead through the trees. Adrenaline was coursing through his bloodstream. His hearing seemed to sharpen.
“I can’t—I need to get closer,” you said, lowering the binoculars again. Your face was ashen.
“Hold up. Ya sure tha’s a good idea?”
The deep caverns of worry lines were back in your forehead again. “We need to go look at this. Trust me.”
Daryl hesitated, but finally nodded. The hair on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end as the two of you stepped forward. A raven took out from the top of a tall pine and its throaty croak echoed around you. More birds rose ahead and joined in the rasping calls. He had the overwhelming sense that things were about to irrevocably change for the worse.
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the-artistic-animal · 3 years ago
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Lie to Me
Daryl x Reader
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Reader pronouns: she/her
Era: Alexandria
Warnings: swearing. And the fact that I didn’t proof read this.
Word count: 2.3k
Context: Daryl is always trying so hard to keep everyone safe that he ends up doing it the wrong way. Instead of using harsh words, maybe he should just lie.
“The hell ya doin’ over here? Told ya already ta stay inside!” Daryl growled as you stood a few steps behind him, following the archer through the woods nearby the gates of Alexandria. You were familiar to his attitude after spending so much time with him since the prison, when you took part in the group. You had learned to shoot and could even hunt but Daryl wanted to take all the responsibility to himself. His urge to keep everybody safe pushed people away. People who cared about him.
“I’m just trynna help you… you know I can.” The archer didn’t slow his steps as you got closer, your voice still and soft, unmatching to his harsh words.
“No, ya can’t!” He suddenly spun around and you bumped into his chest, hands softly meeting his strong arms as you recovered your balance, resisting the urge to stay close to the man and stepping back. “Haven’t I told ya already I don’ want ya here?! Told ya ta stay inside!”
“I know but I-“ You had argued with him before and it was never a good thing, but still, sometimes, you managed to get through him and help. You just wanted to help, and you knew you were more than capable of it. The archer, on the other side, seemed to think differently. Deep down, he knew you could handle yourself, but you meant so much to him that he rather do shit himself than risking you get hurt. What he didn’t know was that when you try to protect someone too much, you might be the one that makes them bleed.
“I don’t want ya here! Told ya too damn many times! Yer so smart but don’ fucking get it.” Daryl wasn’t even looking at you at this point, avoiding meeting your studying eyes. You searched for signs that he was lying but emotion took over your good sense and you believed every word. His gestures were harsh, like thorns to keep you away. “I don’ want yer help! Don’ ya coming with me! Don’ want yer ass around!”
Now that hurt. And you were the one who couldn’t bare looking at the archer. He was aware of the pain he was causing you, but maybe he had too much faith that you would always find your way back to him, like you always did. But you were tired. You had been around for long enough to know that Daryl wasn’t one to lie, and this was the final punch, what it took for you to understand: he can’t stand you, your company, your help. It was time to give up. For way too long you didn’t want to face it, but even the toughest warriors knew when the time to give up came. You knew.
You felt embarrassed, ashamed and wanted to disappear. You didn’t want to face Daryl, it felt humiliating, felt like a puppy kicked out over and over again who kept coming back wagging its tail. “Well…” You sniffed, and cursed at yourself for showing damn weakness. “You could have just lied to me.”
You turned around and didn’t look back, arms hugging your torso and fists clenching around the fabric of your shirt as walked back. You felt so stupid for even considering the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he would have called you back. But he didn’t and you heard his footsteps getting distant.
You didn’t walk through the front gates, instead finding the hole in the fence that allowed you in, to the back road of Alexandria. Your steps were rushed as wiped your tears away, not daring to look up even when you walked in the house your people shared. You noticed Carl paying with Judith on the carpeted floor of the room, glancing at the kitchen were Carol mastered some cooking. You closed the front door softly and they didn’t notice your soft steps as you climbed the wood stairs, entering the bathroom.
You looked at the mirror and noticed the redness of your face, the tears having stained your skin. It hurt, your chest felt like it was clenching around itself. You could help sliding down the cold white floors, hand clutched to your chest as you breathing came out uneven.
You lost track of time, realizing you had been crying for too long when you hear footsteps on the stairs outside the bathroom. You rushed to get up, splashing water on your face and checking if you looked like you had been crying, which, much to your disappointment, it did. Resting your cold wet palms over your cheeks, you breathed heavily, in and out, just before walking out of the door.
You glanced at Rick walking in your direction as you moved down the hall and out of the house. He noticed the way your eyes were red and puffy, but also the way you tried to hide it, keeping your head down as you moved past him and down the stairs; you exhaled in relied as you passed through the front door without questions, not sparing a second glance as you almost ran to the farthest side of the city, spotting a tree you could hide beneath you sat down.
You were angry at how much time you were spending thinking of someone who didn’t give a shit about you. That was the truth and you repeated it over and over again to yourself. You also cursed at yourself for not having taken extra shifts on watching the gates, having a fucking free afternoon to spend mourning over the somewhat friendship you thought you had with Daryl.
When the dark of the night finally fell over you and your tears had stubbornly dried, you got up, noticing the hole you had made on the soft grass you kept pulling, dirt accumulating under your nails. The hole inside your chests hadn’t gone away, but you were glad no one would see you crying, first because it was a dark night, and second because there were no more tears to cry.
As Daryl stepped up to the front porch Rick stopped him in his tracks; the archer moved to the man reluctantly, wanting nothing more that to bury himself into sleep. He was seated on the rocking chair with a sleepy Judith in his arms. “Daryl? How was hunting?” The archer didn’t fail to notice that there was more to the question than Rick first let out. Daryl shrugged.
“Hm. Saw Y/N this afternoon. Thought she was with you…” The archer felt a tug inside his chest. He had been thinking of the shit he said to her all day, so much that he frustratedly walked home empty handed. He avoided Rick’s eyes, his feet anxious to move, to run. “Told her to stay here… s’not safe out there…”
Rick picked it up fast, something was off, but before he could say anything, Daryl walked through the door. The skies were orange and pink, the sun shining it’s final light of the day, promising a wind morning the day after.
Daryl harshly threw his boots by the door as he stepped inside, noticing that his people were settling around the place as the night started to fell. He passed through the quiet conversations here and there, making his way to the basement were he had set most of his stuff, but his eyes still burned around the room as he searched for her.
He placed his crossbow on the corner of the room, a pile of sticks soon to be new arrows beside it. As he went to get a clean shirt inside his backpack, he could help but notice Y/N’s dark green bag beside his. His heart ached once again and he notice the little pin attached to it, one that he had found and handed to her a long time ago when they were on a run together. It was a turtle, a small one with longer paws and for some reason he thought she would like it. She did. They had a close call that day but, funny enough, Daryl couldn’t remember what had caused them almost dying, but he did remember her smile as he gave the pin to her.
Shaking his head to try and clear his racing mind, Daryl climbed up the stairs two steps at a time, determined to find the girl and say… what was he even going to say? He had hurt her, he knew that the moment the words came out of his mouth but still he didn’t stop it. And like poison, they spilled right into her heart.
Still not finding any sign of Y/N, the archer walked out of the house noticing that sun was now gone, being replaced by a dark night, the moon covered by dark clouds. Rick was getting up, the little one in his arms had finally closed her eyes.
“Hey… hum… Have ya… have ya seen Y/N?” Daryl was hesitant, embarrassed even, eyes not meeting Rick’s, who was just about to walk inside. “No. She hadn’t came in yet. Everything alright with you two?” His tone was quiet as to not wake the little girl.
“Yeah. Yeah, alright. Jus’ gotta talk to her, s’all…” Rick didn’t buy it but still he nodded, stepping inside and leaving Daryl to stay by himself in the dark.
The archer sat on the stair, exhaling heavily as he tried to script what he had to say. But nothing came to mind and he was frustrated when he lit up a cigarette, noticing that besides that one, there was only one more left.
The cigarette was by its end when the man heard soft footsteps approaching, and the soft voices coming from the house behind him disappeared when he spotted her. He was quick to throw what was left of the cigarette on the ground and get on his feet, stepping on it as he called her name.
When you noticed the archer standing in your way, the air was instantly caught in your lungs, a heavy beating taking over you heart as you tried to walk past Daryl and into the house. But you were interrupted by a grip on your pulse that made you turn around in face the man, which you refused to do.
“Y/N… Can I- can we talk? Please, I-“ You twisted in his grip forcing him to let go as you took only a couple more steps before he was holding your arm again. “Daryl, stop! Just let me fucking go, I can’t do this… please…”
Noticing how weak you sounded, you cursed at yourself, but some part you was so tired that you didn’t even cared that much. In fact, perhaps you wanted him to know he had hurt you. And he certainly knew he had.
“I know. I know, I don’ even deserve yer attention but please-“ Every word was like a brand new crack in your heart, and you had to stop it before you couldn’t pick up the pieces anymore. “But nothing, Daryl. You said what you said, I got it. You don’t want me around you, so I’ll stay away. It’s fine!” Nothing was fine, but maybe if you lied for long enough it would be.
“Na. Na, it ain’t fine. Look, I- I just… I didn’ mean that, I just wanted to keep ya safe and- and it just came out- M’ sorry…” He frustratedly let go of your arm, and you couldn’t help but miss the touch of his hand. “What are you even sorry for, Daryl? Of course that was the truth, there���s nothing to be sorry for…”
The archer was amazed by the softness of your voice, and at that moment he doubted that you were even real. “That’s the thing… ya said- ya told me to lie to ya and I did- I lied… Fuck, I- I want… I want ya around, dammit! S’why I fuckin’ lied, cause I want ya safe so ya can be… around. Even if ya hate me for it, I just need ya safe…”
Your eyes were wide, Daryl noticed, the soft light passing through the windows illuminating your face just enough for him to notice your gaze on him. Your lips were parted softly as you searched for the words. Any words. But nothing came out and Daryl just keep staring back, his eyes studying your face when he noticed a single tear scape your eye.
When you blinked it way and moved your hand to wipe it, the archer had built up enough courage to stop you, instead moving his fingers so softly to wipe it himself. When he noticed your eyes closed and the way you leaned into his touch, it was hard to resist the urge he had to touch you, to hold you safe in his arms like he always wanted to. But still, he studied your expression as he moved his hand away.
“Well, then… please don’t lie to me.” Your voice was lower than ever but still he caught the emotion, the hurt they carried, and he felt his own eyes blurring with tears. How could he ever even say those things to you when you meant this much to him. You meant more than anything.
Daryl could hold himself back anymore; actually, he didn’t wanted to. And at the same time it was the hardest thing he ever done, it was also the best and it felt natural and right when he stepped forward and took the girl in his arms. He noticed the tension leaving her body as she exhaled heavily in relief on his chest, her arms coming to rest around his back as she clang onto the man. He felt his heart become light again, somehow full of hope something more he could decipher yet.
“Won’t. Promise.”
Autor’s note: hey everyone! Hope you’re well! Had this but of inspiration tonight and this sort of came out. Hope it alright and you like! And if you do please comment, I love to read your thoughts!
Sorry it took too long for me to post something, had been busy! Please remember that English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.
Thank you so much for reading!
Take a look at my MASTERLIST for more!
If you’d like to be tagged please let me know!
@phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @browneyes528
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haruhey · 3 years ago
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Hey
I just found your blog
And wow I read all of your stories like in 5 hours!
And that’s LONG cause I’m a fast reader
But you have such an awesome long stories and dude..I wanted to spend my time on them and imagine them!!! it was so GOOD!
Also let’s not talk about the way you write daryl..shy but at the same time pretty damn good in relationship!
Is there any story that you’re going to post anytime soon?
And just a suggestion..I think if you make a master list for your stories it would be much easier to find them
Love your blog❤️
hey anon!
thank you for the kind words i hope you enjoyed all the fics :))
i’ve just finished a shower smut and my beta-readers will be reading on sunday(? i think?). it’s essentially like 7k words of filth so please do not come at me. i don’t really know when i’ll be posting it, though, because i try to have them separated by like a month to just have them posted on a semi-consistent basis so i might hold onto it for a while. i have a couple of fics i’m writing rn, but if anyone wants to like... convince me?? or vote on which one i should be focusing more of my brainpower on i would welcome them.
so here’s the two fics:
1. this one is in my docs called just ‘prison fic’ and it’s where prison era!daryl and you go on a run you’re supposed to lead, but he gets hurt and it’s sort of an accidental confession. it’s pretty fun but i haven’t come up with a summary yet because i still don’t really know what the plot points will be. i have the run part written and the confession part written, so i have to fill in what comes between and the smut part which is fun.
2. this one is just called ‘GROUND’ and the summary is: Someone spreads a rumour and the citizens of Alexandria come to believe that you and Daryl are sleeping with each other - the problem is, you’re not and the rumour is completely unbeknownst to the both of you. People start gossiping behind your back, men start avoiding you and when you don’t have a clue why, you ask Daryl. Ever dedicated to you, he endeavours to find an answer, and when he does, a jumbled confession slips from your lips. Turns out, the Alexandrians just jumped the gun a few days too quick.
and yes! i’m planning on making a masterlist when i post my shower smut so i’m at a fun round number of 5 fics. i have it in my drafts currently with hyperlinks and everything so yeah, i’m just waiting to post the shower fic.
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okay uh yeah bye :) hope you liked my fanfics !!
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lifeofresulullah · 1 year ago
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The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Assignment of the Duty of the Prophethood and First Muslims
The State of the World and Humanity
It would be useful to know and to recognize the moral state of humanity and the world before the Master of the Universe (PBUH) was appointed as a prophet. Only then will we be able to understand how he saved the humanity from a social, political, religious, spiritual, intellectual darkness and perversion.
During the end of the sixth century of the Gregorian calendar…
This was an era in which disbelief, heresy, and immorality had descended over humanity with all of its might and were trying to suffocate humanity. The prominent and significant countries of that time were:
Byzantine, Persia, Egypt, India, Alexandria, Mesopotamia, China, etc.
In all of these countries;
A correct belief system did not exist
The people during that time suffered qualms of conscience, had gone mad (so to speak), were rampant, and did not know what they were doing.
They worshipped phenomena that took place in the universe and things that had been created by Allah. Humanity would prostrate before the stars, fire, as well as bone dry, lifeless rocks and idols while claiming they were “Gods!”.
Since souls and the conscience of humanity were buried in the deprivation and darkness of not having faith in Allah; nothing was considered to be the creation of the Divine power and the universe was considered to be meaningless, unnecessary, and pointless. Those poor individuals, who were devoid of faith, wisdom, and understanding, knew that a letter, a word, and a book could not come into being without a writer; however, they were writhing in the misery of accepting that the universe, which contains hundreds of thousands of mysteries and wisdoms, was without an owner and without reason.
In this deplorable state, the entire world was expecting and in need of a prophet who would reintroduce the belief in Tawhid, Allah’s existence and His oneness, and cleanse the heart of disbelief and depravity.
People had been divided into classes
Humanity had broken into several classes, such as the wealthy, the poor, the strong, and the weak; there was a great disconnection and gap between the community and the government officials. There was a considerable amount of tension among the classes.
Due to the tyranny and injustice that was committed by the higher social classes, the lower class resembled a barrel of gunpowder that was ready to explode at any minute. Let us take a glance at the state of Iran during that time as an example: “Like many primitive societies, the Iranians were completely separate from one another. The top three classes were entirely detached from the fourth caste, which was all the way at the bottom. The highest three classes consisted of the priests, judges, warriors and officials who were either called Magipads or Mobads since they were from the Magi Tribe; the farmers and artists constituted the fourth class”. The common people, who were the community, consisted of free city dwellers, slaves, and serfs. Their duty was to work in the fields or in the military without receiving any payments or rewards for their services. They were completely left to themselves and were stuck with insurmountable obstacles. They could not advance in their stations in any way; there was even no hope for them to become townspeople, although the latter openly benefited from their goods and property…”
The Eastern Roman Empire’s condition was even more deplorable. “Its society had been divided into many secondary classes. They were: 1) A class called Curule. They were landowners who were not enlisted in the military and could not get involved in any kind of trade. 2) Tributaries, just like their counterparts in Persia, included those who had no land of their own, those who paid poll taxes, and those were bound to guilds that passed by inheritance from fathers to sons. 3) The military class. As one writer said regarding this matter: “The farmers who cultivated the soil were nothing but tools that clothed and fed the king’s court.”
Finlay, who was an eminent historian on the Middle East, summarized the Eastern Roman Empire’s (Byzantine) miserable condition as follows: “History has probably not seen a community whose morals were as withered as that of the Greeks and Romans who lived in the period between Justinian’s death (528-565) and Muhammad’s birth, and who lacked as much self-control and virtue”.
The European community was in the ruthless hands of the aristocracy, the knights, and the clergy, and its condition was no different than that of a dumb animal. Those in power could purchase and sell the community’s constituents whenever they wanted and the latter did not have the right to object. Those who were sold practically became slaves. Even if they were not slaves in the fullest sense, those who did not have the power and strength to separate from their masters would eventually become servants. Nobody had the right not to like his master, nor did anybody possess the authority to choose him. However, there was this one condition: in some uncivilized countries, servants were able to go to another home by first paying their masters a sum for their freedom; this was considered to be a huge favor.
In summary, all countries other than the Arabian Peninsula had caste systems in which people had been divided into separate classes and looked at each other with enmity, hate, and brutality. This world, which was in a miserable state, was in need of a great prophet who would declare that humans were Allah’s most esteemed creatures, they had all descended from one father, and that they all had specific rights in the same proportion, like the right to freedom, and who would change feelings of hate and animosity into feelings of love, respect, and friendship. This situation called for and was in dire need of this Great Prophet.
Slavery was an official institution
Human beings are both reverend and honorable. However, appreciation of this fact is only possible with true belief.
The people of that age, whose hearts were deprived of faith’s glory, did not respect humans, were  unaware that humans were the most reverend beings on the Earth, and were savage enough to sell and purchase their fellow beings.
Those unfortunate people who were labeled as slaves were being sold and purchased at auctions like ordinary merchandise. The masters were fully authorized to insult, torment, and make their slaves work however they wanted.
Humanity was in desperate need of someone who would end this savagery and ingratitude and was in need of a guide who would not withhold his light of compassion from anyone.
Sectarian fights persisted
The belief in the fallacious trinity had replaced the doctrine of Tawhid, the oneness of Allah, which Hazrat Isa (Jesus) had conveyed and preached.
The priests produced a completely different religion in place of what Hazrat Isa had taught.
Likewise, other countries, particularly the Eastern Roman Empire, were committing inconceivable acts of torture and tyranny in the name of religion. For example, historians mention how Phocas, the Patrician, poisoned himself in order to escape from being forcefully converted into Christianity.
Those who left the Mazdaism faith, which prevailed in Persia, or those who betrayed this religion were mercilessly executed. Scratching out the eyes, crucifixion, stoning, as well as starving and leaving someone to die thirsty were all standard death penalties.
While Confucianism and China had advanced in civilization, they were living their most chaotic days and were on the brink of collapsing just before the Sun of Bliss (PBUH) emerged.  Civil wars did not cease and the society was at one another’s throats due to sectarian differences.
During the period of Islam’s emergence, Abyssinia was full of clashes that occurred between siblings.
Immorality Prevailed
Humanity, which was deprived of the modesty, fear, and virtue that come from faith, was committing all sorts of lewd behavior and had trampled over its dignity and honor by freely performing vulgar acts.
Gambling, alcohol, and immoral types of pleasure found their place among daily activities. Continuous killing, continuous acts of adultery, mugging, and raids almost swept away the blessed and divine significance from humanity.
Here is one example:
Morality had been completely wiped from the Byzantine Empire and had become so dead that the patriarch of Constantinople himself solemnized the marriage between the Emperor and the latter’s own niece.
To them, a woman was no different than a simple commodity that could be purchased and sold.
Yes, the end of sixth century A.D. was the century of such barbarism, unbelief, idolatry, ignorance and cruelty. All kinds of anarchy, blasphemy, various perverted belief systems and all kinds of debauchery were ruling the world in this century.
Humanity had probably never witnessed such perverseness, immorality, atrocity, and terror since its creation.
Humanity was devoid of a spiritual guide and was like the flowing water in an untamed river as it crashed into stones. With each crash, it lost a bit of its heart, soul, conscience, and honor. Every door that it knocked was shut on its face.
Humans had turned into beasts since they did not know who Allah, the Supreme Creator, was and had not found the essential path that He had drawn for them by means of His prophets. These wild beasts were ready to swallow someone at every minute and were smeared in blood; they caused the wind of anarchism and unrest to blow everywhere.
Humanity had become an orphan, the universe was mourning, and the Earth resembled a ring of sorrow. Everyone was considered an enemy by others, and everything was considered meaningless, soulless, and aimless.
Humanity’s sorrowful screams, which resulted from not having a true guide, were ringing in the skies; the universe, its smallest particles and the sun were crying together over humanity’s miserable condition.
The Sun of Bliss, with all of his glory, was meant to rise in the horizon of humanity so that humans could be happy. The universe’s smallest particle, its sun, its mountains, its stones, its animals, and its people would be saved from being considered insignificant, meaningless, and pointless. Everything would be known as a letter of Allah that was written and presented to be people so that they would draw lessons from them.  Pure faith could take the place of disbelief, justice could replace tyranny, peace could replace uneasiness, knowledge could take the place of ignorance, and bliss could replace misery. All believers would be friends and siblings. The universe’s rage could turn into happiness.  The stars could laugh and the atoms could whirl like dervishes. The sun, moon, ground, and sky could continue their mission lovingly and ardently.
Man should know that the real wisdom and purpose of his creation, his transfer from the darkness of non-existence to the realm of existence is to know God Almighty, to believe in Him and to worship Him. Thus, he will attain real peace and bliss.
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dramione-tea · 4 years ago
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recommendations & little snippets of myself
by Cassiopeia Candles ( Instagram: @casseopya.candles )
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note: click the title in order to be directed to the desired fan fiction.
- for the dramione shippers, I wish you luck! 
Unrequited Love  [ casspiane ]
“Darling, I wished you knew,” 
Draco Malfoy x Original Characters (OC)
1. Love Never Dies. [ rosebuds_ ]
Rachel Farrell, pure blood witch, family of Gryffindors. First year is not the best for Rachel. She struggles trying to fit in and be accepted by those around her. Falling for Draco Malfoy, Rachel has to overcome a wave of obstacles. She finds it difficult to be accepted by her family and turns to the Malfoys... Which was undoubtedly one of the biggest mistakes she made. Find out what happens to Rachel and what truly changes her life.
- Literally binge read the whole book during my 6th grade examination. ( I know it was bad for me ) But hey I didn’t fail.  
P.S. Don’t be like me. 
2. midnight of the masquerade [ seraphilims ]
a story in which two people realize masks only hide the appearance - not the heart. 
- Love the story plot.  I’ve read this thrice in different years. 
3. Imperio [ pansyparks ]
The younger sister of Cedric Diggory, Arden, is a Slytherin who doesn't fit in. Draco Malfoy, a wealthy Slytherin bully. The two come together, and Arden realises that being a Slytherin isn't so bad after all; but with a few bumps in the road for Draco, can they stay together?
4. Dear Draco [ malfoyuh ]
❛stay a little longer❜
- 15 year old me were in tears, so was my heart.  Rate it as 5/5.
5. Let’s Kill Tonight  [ Bambey ]
Rebecca Rosewood's life is dramatically changed when she becomes a Death Eater. With blood on her hands, she is summoned by Voldemort to go to Hogwarts and extract information from the famous Harry Potter, finding herself hopelessly attracted to Draco Malfoy at the same time. But it all gets a little too much when her past finally catches up with her...
- One of the first fan-fictions I’ve read about Draco.
6. if looks could kill [ WhenInDoubtSleep ]
In times like this, the truth can rewrite the past and alter the future. In an attempt to find herself amidst the deceptive lies and horrible truths, she finds Draco Malfoy instead. She honestly just wants to make it out of the year alive...and maybe with a few less kisses from the blond git. Love story set during the sixth year at Hogwarts.
7. Always Had A Thing For Bad Boys [ oxNeverShoutNeverxo ]
8. Who Are You?  [ TheBlondeAdventurer ]
Draco Malfoy. One of the most arrogant teenage boys in Slytherin's house. He struts through the school and doesn't miss an opportunity to cut someone down, just as he has been by his father his entire life. Now enter Elena Crowe. A quiet girl who tries her hardest to stay out of trouble, and one of Ravenclaw's best students. She always has the best answers and never fails to help someone in need, even if they may not deserve it. In their sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco finally runs into Elena, whom he has never seemed to notice before. Elena does her absolute best to stay away from him, because all he can be is trouble, but Draco finds amusement by forcing himself into her life. For what reason, he doesn't know; but what he does know is that he enjoys bantering with this quiet girl, because even she can get riled up and fight back. But Draco will see that Elena is a lot more than what she may seem. Soon he will be battling morales, his past, his family, and both of them may end up facing off in the final battle not with Lord Voldemort, but each other.
- To be completely honest, read this one more than 3 times. 
9. Unwanted Legacy [ writtenbyciara ]
" admit it, you care about me. "
- Recently read this months ago and found it quite interesting. The author’s writing style is different from the rest as her words make you visualize more on what is happening. 
- Book 1 & 2 is complete, while book 3 is still on its way. 
Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger (Dramione)
1. We Learned The Sea [ floorcoaster ]
Draco Malfoy turns himself in after a very successful career as a Death Eater, then enlists Harry and Hermione to help him in a scheme to bring down the Dark Lord.
- This gave me the feels.  Draco’s personality in this is far most different from the books and other fan fictions.
2. The Bachelor  [ Fluff ]
Hermione's mother is pressuring her into finding a boyfriend. On a whim, she applies and is accepted into the wizard version of The Bachelor. But what happens when The Bachelor is none other than Draco Malfoy himself?
3. Defending The Dark  [ Cece Louise ]
Almost three years after Voldemort's defeat, Hermione Granger is a Ministry-appointed Defense Inquisitor. Her next assignment: defend Draco Malfoy. She's sure there must be some mistake. Confronted with mysterious memories, candid conversations, and confusing feelings, she is plagued with uncertainty. Just who is Draco Malfoy? And does he deserve a second chance?
4. Graveyard Valentine  [ Bex-chan ]
Hermione thought she was the only person in the world who would spend Valentine's Day in a Graveyard, but she was wrong. He's there. Every single year, with his gloves, roses, and answers. Dramione Valentine's Day one-shot. Post-Hogwarts. 
- All time favorite.
5. Eighteen Months  [ Istalindar ]
When Hermione is diagnosed with a magic allergy and kidney failure during the summer, everything changes for her, friends, enemies..life.
6. Love Me Twice [ Bex-chan ]
'"They tore her apart and then wiped me out of her mind to send me a message. To mess up my life. To break..." he trailed off. Blaise nodded his head with understanding. "To break your heart," he finished for him.' Dramione. One-shot.
7. The Wrong Strain [ Colubrina ]
Everyone knew what veela were. Veela were magical creatures, breathtakingly beautiful, who captivated men with a single look. It would have been nice to have been that strain. Instead, Hermione Granger was infected by another. Instead of captivating all men, she was captivated by one. She'd die without him. She was already in almost constant pain. 
8. Entwined In Time  [ TheSummerNightingale ]
When Hermione and Draco get put into detention together, a potion mishaps throws them back in time: into the Marauders' era. As they begin to adjust to life twenty years into the past, the two become drawn together, sharing the bond of the future as they are forced to work together to return to their own time.
9. Destiny [ Annie Lockwood ]
Hermione's wedding night is everything but perfect for the young witch. Her new husband and long-time friend, Ronald, is passed out drunk and she thinks upon her life leading up to that night. Hermione falls asleep, despondent and alone. When she wakes up the following morning, she is still in bed with her husband. But it isn't Ronald Weasley.
10. Silencio [ AkashatheKitty ] 
One late night, hate turns to lust.
11. Clean [ Olivie Blake ]
Malfoy's handsome face was contoured into a condescending smirk. "No faith in that giant brain of yours, Granger?" She looked up at him defiantly. "Maybe I don't have faith in you!" she said, raising her voice. Malfoy only looked at her. "You'll find I'm very surprising."
12. Marked  [ Olivie Blake ]
Two dead. Three missing. The Order is down a leader and another innocent takes the Mark. Where is the Chosen One, and who killed Draco Malfoy?
13. The Fallout [ everythursday ] 
Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy.
14. Every Day, a Little Death [ LovesBitca8 ]
It has become common knowledge that Hermione Granger cannot have an orgasm. Many have tried, none have succeeded. Can Draco Malfoy offer his assistance?
15. familiar faces, worn out places [ LovesBitca8 ]
“You are at St. Mungo’s. You were in a coma.” He looks me over again, taking a pause. “I am a Healer here now,” he says, like it explains something. My fingers stretch, drifting across his sleeve. He looks down, like I’ve thrown mud at him.
Forcing my vocal chords together for the first time, I whisper, “What’s your name?”
16. Kiss Me, Haunt Me, Kill Me [ LovesBitca8 ]
"So," she said, and her voice was just as he'd remembered it, "you've chosen to haunt the castle as well?" She lifted her brows. "I'm dead. What's your excuse?" ~*~ Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts as Potions Master to find the ghost of Hermione Granger floating through the halls.
17. Ribbons Down Her Back [ LovesBitca8 ]
The unintentional annual seduction of Draco Malfoy through a series of ribbons and bows - or - Christmas Fluff with a dash of Secret Santa.
18. Manacled  [ SenLinYu ] 
Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.
19. The Library of Alexandria  [ SenLinYu ] 
 The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather—novel.
20. A Slow Cruel Descent + A Fragile Ascent  [ SenLinYu ]
A Slow Cruel Descent
The war grinds on and Hermione Granger, the lead intelligence for the Order of the Pheonix, is captured. Unable to crack her through interrogation without risking her mind, Voldemort conceives a cruel method of breaking her that involves a reluctant Draco Malfoy.“He stared at her in disgust.She looked—broken.The fire she’d still had when she was dragged in was now extinguished. Her eyes were locked on his face like she were memorizing him.“Stop staring at me.” He snarled. “You stupid bint. You’re supposed to be so clever. They can’t break you with torture but a fucking potion reduces you to a sniveling traitor.”
A Fragile Ascent
The War is over. Voldemort is dead. And Hermione Granger is broken.
21. Sweetly Broken [ LadyKenz347 ] 
As the dust settles following the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco’s confidence, belief system, and world are shattered.In an attempt to mend his broken pieces, he turns to vials that take the pain away. But once the high’s are no longer so high and the lows get so much lower, Draco has to start a journey of healing and redemption that often hurts more than it helps.
22. Truth, Lies, and Storytelling  [ BreathOfThePhoenix ]
“Hermione,” Harry took a deep breath and flipped the book over to see the back cover, “why is my name on this?”“Like I said, someone is writing about us. The film we just saw was based on that book,” Hermione tapped the cover of the book on the top of the stack, “and it was incredibly accurate.”Harry passed the stack of books over to Ginny, holding on to the first one. He turned the title of the book over in his head, mumbling the words quietly to himself.“Harry Potter… me… Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Philosopher’s stone. Hermione, this feels weird. Am I the narrator?”When Hermione and Draco uncover a familiar new film called “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone” they learn that the wizarding world may not be as well hidden as they thought.
23. DIVINATION FOR SKEPTICS  [ OLIVIEBLAKE ]
The latest in magical advancements is an enchantment that reveals the bearer’s romantic compatibility with another person. Effectively eliminating uncertainty from dating, the charm can tell you whether or not you’ve found The One with a precise, Hermione Granger-approved calculation of traits and preferences. It’s a foolproof method of predicting relationship happiness. It’s also, for Hermione, positively dreadful news.
24. Isolation [ Bex-chan ]
He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!"
25. Hunted [ Bex-chan ]
Forced to work together when their old schoolmates start dying, Hermione & Draco must overcome their differences to solve the mysterious deaths. The tension in the office is getting rather...heated.
If you reached to this part. 
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