#Daryl Solar Opposites

[zinkadear]

Daryl comes to Yumyulack's sleepover.

[mashedbootatoes]

BRING ME A DARYULACK SLEEPOVER EPISODE IN S4

[cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien]

Solar Opposites: The Ultra Opposites Episode #5: “Rise of The Empress”

(for @avaveevo and @crazychanuwu77)

(artworks made by @crazychanuwu77)

Characters:

Terry/Solar Flare

Korvo/The Legendary Super Shlorpian

Yumyulack/Psylock

Jesse/Electra

The Pupa

AISHA

Janiz

EVA, AISHA's Cousin

Daryl

Ophelia

Principal Cooke

Miss Frankie

In a lovely afternoon, the Solar Opposites were doing their usual activities. Yumyulack is even hanging out with his boyfriend Daryl.

Daryl: So, how are you doing?

Yumyulack: Oh y’know. Just the usual. I was just hanging out with my family. Nothing much.

Daryl: Oh.

As for the adults were fixing a machine, with Korvo’s sister Janiz helping tighten the screw. Suddenly, an alarm rang.

Janiz: Oh shit! That’s the Ultra Opposites signal!

Korvo: What?! What the fuck is happening?!

Terry: I don’t know. Better go get the kids.

Terry then head to a school and head into the Principal Office, with Cooke annoyed.

Principal Cooke: What the fuck is your problem Opposites? You better have a good explanation.

Miss Frankie: What the hell are you doing this time?!

Terry: Only a family emergency. Just call our kids up here!

Principal Cooke: Ugh! Fine! uses his speaker Yumyulack and Jesse Opposites! Come into my office!

Yumyulack and Jesse head into the office.

Terry: Kids! Big emergency stat!

As Terry grabs the kids and takes them home, Daryl was busy taking his stuff out of the locker. Until, someone grabbed him.

Back at the Ultra Opposites HQ, Janiz was busy typing down what is happening.

Janiz: Oh shit! It’s that ruthless empress Ophelia! She might be out to destroy Earth!

Aisha: Hmm. According to my settings, she’s here to rule Earth! Damn, that bitch is evil and nasty!

Korvo: Hmm? Something is up with that Empress! Ultra Opposites, time to transform!

Terry, Yumyulack and Jesse: Right!

The Solar Opposites transforms into Ultra Opposites as they get into their superhero stance and they prepare to head out to stop Ophelia.

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: Come on Ultra Opposites! Let’s go stop that empress!

Pupa: Go Ultra Opposites!

The Ultra Opposites head off to stop the empress.

Janiz then got busy to figure out why Ophelia is attacking Earth right now.

Janiz: Hmm? suddenly hears Ophelia talking on the radio Uh oh, I don’t think Yumyulack is gonna like this. Eve, get to Ultra Opposites! Stat!

The heroes made it to where Ophelia is at.

Terry/Solar Flare: Not so fast you evil bitch! We’re here to stop you!

Ophelia: Oh, the Ultra Opposites! What a surprise! Time to fucking crush you superhero aliens!

Yumyulack/Psylock: Nice fucking try! We got very powerful super powers!

Korvo/The Legendary Super Shlorpian: So Don’t try to stop us!

Jesse/Electra: Yeah! What they said, bi-atch!

The Ultra Opposites get into a fight-pose stance as they prepare to stop the Empress. Suddenly, Yumyulack notices sometime he knows tied up.

Yumyulack/Psylock: Oh my God! Daryl?!

Daryl: Ultra Opposites, look out! She’s here to- gets shock by Ophelia as he screams in pain

Ophelia: Shut up bitch!

Yumyulack/Psylock, horrified that Ophelia hurt Daryl: You...YOU MONSTER! Ophelia slaps Yumyulack/Psylock, causing him to fall.

Jesse/Electra: YUMYULACK!

Ophelia: Don't fool with me, you little rat. You are powerless against- Ophelia is suddenly slashed on the cheek. She looks to see EVA

Ophelia: Why you little fool...

EVA: Not on my watch!

Ophelia and EVA fights while Yumyulack recovers and helps free Daryl as he unties him.

Daryl: Damn, thanks babe.

Yumyulack/Psylock: No problem honey. But, I better get you to safety. uses his mind reading powers to get through Ophelia

Ophelia: What are you doing?!

Yumyulack/Psylock: Nobody messes with my boyfriend, you motherfucker! uses his psychic powers to blast Ophelia away Electra!

Jesse/Electra: On it babe! Uses her electric wrecking ball that shocks Ophelia, but Ophelia uses her gravity powers to try to hurt Jesse as she fell on the floor

Ophelia: Nice try you little brat!

Jesse/Electra: gets back and uses her electric ball to shock Ophelia Nice try fucker! uses her anger to unleash a massive lightning blast Ophelia away as she screams

Ophelia: Grr! You! suddenly gets hit by a fireball from Solar Flare

Terry/Solar Flare: Fire time, motherfucker! uses his fire powers to distract Ophelia

AISHA: made it with Pupa Go get ‘em Terry!

Pupa: Solar Flare!

Suddenly, Solar Flare gets hit by Ophelia as he fell on the floor. Korvo then sees his beloved sweetheart in danger as he gasp once he notice Ophelia about to throw a purple fireball at Solar Flare until the Legendary Super Shlorpian uses his ice powers to destroy it with his ice breath.

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: That does it! You mess with my Solar Flare, you mess with me!

With a huge growl, the Legendary Super Shlorpian transforms into his Super Shlorpian form as he roars.

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: Aaaahhh!…… that’s better.

Solar Flare gets back up as he and the Replicants stare at him shockingly. Solar Flare ignites himself whenever he’s turned on (or whenever he sees SS Korvo) as the kids flew up.

Yumyulack/Psylock: Damn Terry!

Jesse/Electra: Jesus Christ!

Terry/Solar Flare: cools down Damn honey. You so strong!

Jesse/Electra: Wow! You really getting good at handling your super Shlorpian form!

Yumyulack/Psylock: What's it like to transform?

Korvo/The Legendary Super Shlorpian: I can't describe it. It's very intense and...erotic...

Terry/Solar Flare: And they say I'm the horny one?

Ophelia: evil laugh No one can stop me now!

The Legendary Super Shlorpian roars as he uses his ice breath to blast Ophelia away as she screams. Solar Flare blushes at his sweet hubby as Korvo continues to fight Ophelia as he lands by his wing, Ophelia tries to throw a fireball but then Solar Flare ignited and punches Ophelia in the face as she screams.

Terry/Solar Flare: That’s right bitch l! You done!

Yumyulack/Psylock: That’s for kidnapping my boyfriend you bitch!

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: Stand down you motherfucker! Janiz?!

Janiz: made it On it! uses a machine to tie up Ophelia, who escapes

Ophelia: This isn’t over Ultra Opposites! I’ll be back! transports away

Janiz: Damn it, she got away!

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: That’s okay, when she comes back, we’ll be ready for her!

Psylock flies over to Daryl as he smiles.

Yumyulack/Psylock: So, what do you think?

Daryl: Babe, you were fantastic. kisses Yumyulack as he blushes

Jesse/Electra: So, what do you want to do now?!

Janiz: Who wants pizza?!

Yumyulack/Psylock and Jesse/Electra: I do! I do! I do!

Terry/Solar Flare: Easy there kiddos. Just head home, Janiz will order pizza in a minute.

Yumyulack/Psylock and Jesse/Electra: Okay.

As Janiz takes the kids home, Solar Flare and Legendary Super Shlorpian stayed behind as the two super hero alien husbands stare at each other lovingly.

Terry/Solar Flare: Huh? Looks like we done it again, huh Legendary Super Shlorpian?

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: You got that right Solar Flare.

Terry/Solar Flare: Mmm, tell you what, I love it when you turn into your Super Shlorpian form.

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: chuckles You sure you wanna do our thing later?

Terry/Solar Flare: If you say so.

The two Ultra Opposites husbands share a kiss as the sunsetsets and the two husbands fell on the grass softly in an embrace as they French kiss away. Even if Ophelia got away, she always be stopped, and the world will always be save, thanks to the Ultra Opposites.

The End

[eri-luvsyou]

pls pls share your yumyulack/daryl headcanons and or ship prompts i’m very interested :3333

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

You were sitting on opposite ends of the couch with Daryl in the evening, trying to steal a little quiet time to decompress after a long day. He was fiddling with his crossbow as usual, and something about the steady sound and his hands at work seemed soothing. The page of your novel suddenly disappeared in front of you as the entire house, the entire settlement, plunged into blackness.

Your stomach tensed. "Hmm. Daryl, I think the power is out," you said sarcastically.

You heard an amused snort from the other end of the couch. "Yeah, no shit... Solar must be on the fritz again. I keep tellin' Rick we gotta get new batteries. I'll grab the lanterns," he drawled.

"I better just check on Jude and RJ."

Moving in the dark before your eyes had completely adjusted was not wise, and you had apparently moved at the same time as Daryl right towards each other. You collided near the middle of the couch and you may as well have hit a brick wall. The man was solid. "Shit!"

You probably would have landed flat on your ass, but his arms were suddenly around you and you found yourself tipped sideways back onto the couch. Daryl caught himself on the back of the couch with one arm, but still found himself partially leaning over you. His other hand had landed on your hip.

"Uhh—s—sorry. Ya alrigh'?"

You could barely see him over you now, your eyes having adjusted to the darkness. "Y—yeah," you breathed, hardly able to get any words out as you found yourself admiring the view. You were thankful he couldn't see the burning blush you could certainly feel heating up your face. "Nice reflexes."

Daryl suddenly realized, mainly from the tingling sensation in his hand, that it was still on your hip and he pulled it back suddenly. "Thanks," he drawled, gulping. He straightened up stiffly and offered you his hand to help pull you back to your feet. "Right... I'll just—"

"The lanterns," you nodded. "And I'll just—"

"Check the kids," he finished for you, ducking his head.

You laughed nervously. "You can move first this time..."

Daryl edged around you and both of you wer left wondering if the other had felt the same thing. Prompt: "I think the power is out."

A/N: Sorry for the slight break in content this weekend. I got sick AGAIN, this time with a horrible stomach virus that had me up puking all night Saturday 🙃 what a joy... LUCKILY, I am already almost back to normal. I swear, this cold and flu season is BAD. Stay healthy ya'll. <3

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Total Eclipse Of The Heart

➳ Summary: You take Daryl to watch the 2017 solar eclipse (Daryl x GN!Reader)

➳ Setting: Southern Virginia, August 21st, 2017 (in the 6 year timeskip in season 9)

➳ Word count: 1.6k

➳ C/W: Nothing

➳ A/N: Simple thing cuz I hated Leah watching something as special as the eclipse w/ Daryl in the show cuz I DO NOT LIKE her ass so I rewrote it cuz I believe there's few things more bonding than watching an eclipse with someone. Whippin out the dad music reference on this one. (I am working on reqs! I just have training for my job which my boss very reassuringly dubbed “bootcamp” and health shit is beating my ass I need to call like 3 specialty clinics again um 🗿)

“Ya ever gon’ tell me where we goin'?”

“Nope. Almost there,” You replied, a cheeky grin on your face as you swiveled your head back to glance at Daryl who sat behind you on his motorcycle. You'd dragged him out of his guilt-ridden solitude in the forest and demanded he get on, saying you needed to show him something and would not be taking ‘nah’ for an answer. You'd been driving southwest for nearly two hours now, headed towards something specific.

Daryl had little sense of the date, having spent nearly the last 3 ½ years out in the woods, wrapped up in his search for Rick. You stayed with him from time to time, Carol checking in as well, but he was too stubborn to go home with either of you no matter how many times you urged it. Even if he knew the day, you weren't sure he'd even know why it was special.

You, however, had been tracking the calendar and lunar cycles, and kept one specific date and pattern in your mind for the last 7 years; August 21st, 2017. You remembered ages ago, reading on science forums and listening to programs on the television, that today, the paths of the moon and the sun would perfectly align and grace a total solar eclipse across the entirety of the United States.

Your lives were such shit in so many ways: flesh eating, rotting corpses snarling after you at every second, run in after run in with malicious and corrupt people and groups, the lack of food, water, shelter and security, so many people gone – and that didn't include everything from before the dead reawoke. And with Daryl unadmittably depressed after the bridge, you would've done anything to show him there were other things in life to focus on. To live for.

So you left Alexandria early in the morning, found Daryl's camp, and forced him to join you. At first he'd thought something godawful had once again disturbed the communities, so bad you couldn’t tell him. But when you started driving the opposite direction, he grew confused and repeatedly asked what was going on, yet you never gave him an answer. Still, he trusted it was important – trusted you – and let you lead him.

❥-》》—————➣

You pulled off the side of the road, powering down the engine and putting up the kickstand, sliding off and stepping to walk into the forest. You'd gone further down into Virginia, knowing that was closer to totality. It wouldn't be complete, but the distance made a difference. “Alright, c'mon.”

Daryl grabbed your wrist, tugging you back and catching your attention, his eyebrows narrowed. “Really? Tha hell's s’all this? Ya haul me'ah hundred miles away tah walk in tha damn forest?”

“Ya spend all your time in a forest anyway, Dixon.” His expression hardered a little, and you sighed. “Please just follow me. I promise you, it's worth it.”

He looked over the features of your face, judging the sentiment they conveyed, and after a moment let you go. You were already here, no point in going back now. As you spun back around, he begrudgingly trailed after you.

You scanned the environment as you went, stopping near an opening in the canopy of trees that gave view to the sky. You could tell by the slanting of shadows and the slightly abnormal shape of light above you that the process had already begun, all that was left was to observe. So you set your bag down and sat, motioning for Daryl to as well.

“Thi'sa picnic or sum?” He questioned, grunting a little as he unsurely slung his belongings off his shoulder to the ground and did the same, settling beside you.

“Could be, I do have some food.” He didn't seem amused. “But no, not a picnic. You know what the day is? Any idea why it's meaningful?”

“Ts'summer, kno’ tha’. M'ah supposed tah kno’?”

“Maybe, I don't expect you to. Here.” You twisted and opened your bag, reaching for a welding mask you'd brought along and passed it to him. “Look at the sun.”

The archer eyed the facial shield, then you, but listened and held it to his face before shifting his gaze up. He squinted, taking sight of the arc carving that ate into the historically circular form of the burning celestial body. And you explained; “It's August 21st… 2017.”

He had to think for a bit. “Tha eclipse?” He lowered the mask and peered back at you. Memories lodged deep in the layers of his mind sparked; learning about eclipses way back in highschool and hearing his teacher mention it, then the annular one in ‘94 and seeing pictures plastered all over the news where they discussed the future.

“Yeah, thought we should see it. It'll look better down here, not perfect, but still… and the lens on that is dark enough it shouldn't hurt our eyes,” You answered, taking your own look before laying back and using your bag as a pillow. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but that's roughly the last thing you cared about right now.

He couldn't help but just stare for a minute, studying how nonchalant you were about everything. How you'd so easily removed him from his rut when so many other attempts had failed, even with his cluelessness around your intentions – like some larger force took hold and finally willed him to break his destructive routine.

Daryl sprawled out next to you on the forest floor, trading the welding shield back and forth over the course of the next half hour, as well as a piece of paper to see the casted geometry. You both watched as more and more of the sun was etched away, taking mental images each time and comparing the new form to the old. It was mostly quiet, lost in similar awe but varying thoughts. You inched closer every time it was his turn, assuming he noticed but didn't point it out.

“Y'know… total solar eclipses are meant to be when the deities and energies fuse, just as the paths do. A window for opportunities and transformation… time for change,” You commented, recalling all people said about the symbolism of such an event. He gave an ‘Mm’, just so you knew he'd heard you, but paid more attention to the progression in the ethers.

The world around you began to rapidly darken, a sliver of orange glow visible in the makeshift glasses. Knowing it was close, you slid your left palm into his right, weaving fingers together, and he returned the hold, still remaining absorbed in the view.

The moon crossed over the sun – at least as best it would from your vantage point; golden rays illuminating around solid black. As Daryl's eyes locked on the sky, taking it all in, yours locked on him, choosing to watch him over a potentially once in a lifetime occurrence. He lowered the mask to briefly see it fully, now reaching for the sheet.

He looked at peace, maybe for the first time in his life: the constant storm of thoughts that persistently clouded his mind finally parting, even if for just a small moment. You witnessed the glitter of genuine emotion return to his blue's, something you'd feared was so long abandoned it may have been forgotten. Rich browns of his wavy hair glowed iridescent auburns when shimmers of sunlight peeked through the leaves, perfectly complementing everything about his being.

You knew you each needed that change.

“I love you.”

He took a second, making sure the sound of your voice was real and not crafted by his own imagination. His head turned, somewhat staggered to find your eyes already meeting his. It was impossible to rip away, your visions warping together as you seemed to merge, entranced by the little crescents that reflected on each other's irises. His free hand ditched the paper and reached over as he partly rolled to his side.

“For a long time.”

In fluid movements, Daryl's calloused fingers smoothed across the delicate skin on your cheek, leaning in and bringing you to him in a longing kiss. You didn't entirely expect it, although you didn't expect anything in particular at all, too unsure of how he'd react. But you pushed back against him, deepening the kiss and paying no thought to anything beside how it felt to finally overlap with him – till he broke away.

“I love ya too,” He mused, accent thickening in the confession. When you opened your mouth to continue, he shut you up with another peck and angled your face straight above. “Watch. M'not bein’ tha reason ya miss this.”

Words could wait, but the eclipse would not. So you obliged, cuddling closer to him and squeezing his hand as birds and insects sung in a concerned ensemble triggered by the daylight's disappearance.

The tranquility was eerie, a sensation mostly left in the rubble of society and replaced by prevalent chaos. You wondered if the feeling was shared elsewhere; at home with everyone in Alexandria, with survivors across the entire rest of the country. Maybe those who didn't know thought the holy spirit was returning to rescue your raptured souls. Did the walkers pause to look too? Everything so out of the ordinary it caught their attention?

But none of that mattered to you, because you had it here. And you basked in it with the one person you'd always hoped you would've.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien]

Korvo/Legendary Super Shlorpian: Ultra Opposites, MOVE OUT!

@avaveevo and @crazychanuwu77

Nice job you two!

Members of The Ultra Opposites (New) (For @cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien )

Main Members Terry/Solar Flare: Fire Powers and Mundane Transformation Korvo/The Legendary Super Shlorpian: Ice Powers and Super Shlorpian Transformation Yumyulack/Psylock: Psychic and Mind Reading Powers Jesse/Electra: Electricity Powers The Pupa AISHA EVA, AISHA's Cousin

Occasional Members Janiz, Korvo's older sister: Martial Arts Daryl/Dark Matter, Yumyulack's boyfriend: Psychic Powers Principal Cooke/Super Cooke: Flight and Laser Eyes Ms. Frankie/Shadow Lady: Martial Arts and Weapon Mastery Nova/Lady Roseus: Gift Kevin/Super Kevin: Fire Breath Randall/Ultra Man: Super Strength and Flight Jaime/Firey: Fire Powers Darcy/Miss Darcina: Muscle Growth Ms. Perez/Shout Out: Sonic Scream Sherbet/Violet: Color Changing Powers Cherie/Agent Red: Martial Arts Montez/The Master: Psychic Powers Pezile/La Oscuridad: Shadow Powers Mia/Shine Light: Green Lantern Powers Janice/Master Smasher: Super Strength Sonya/Soarin’: Super Strength and Flight

Enemies Ophelia: A space empress and The Ultra Opposites’ arch-nemesis Nicholas Ronalds/Night Runner: A boy that Jesse used to be in love with until she learned that he was a mutant and dumped him Kitty: A spoiled brat who became a criminal after her parents cut off her allowance Captain Rusty: A robot pirate Stacey and Casey/The Phenomenal Twins: Former circus performers turned livestreamers Iron Knuckle: A former Russian wrestler who became a cyborg after he got into a giant accident during one of his matches Dr. Brain: Korvo and Janiz’s father Robo Korvo: An evil robot version of Korvo built by Ophelia

[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 4: Only Your Word

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: references to sexuality (ooo spicy), women not having rights I guess?, idk what else ❧ Word Count: 6.5k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: Four months have passed since Sir Daryl first escorted you outside the castle walls, and you've grown quite fond of him, just as he has grown fond of you. However, there's trouble afoot with the mysterious Sir Negan and his Saviors gaining the upper hand against King Ezekiel's forces, and it is revealed that Sir Negan's threats hold more water than you initially thought.

❧ A/N: Ayyy this is a fun chapter. I loved writing in Michonne and Maggie as reader's ladies-in-waiting! And yeah, the princess and the knight are starting to fall for each other. Lots of mutual pining going on. Oh, and a really, really cute scene between them at the end... I also loved her convo with Ezekiel. Oh, and Shiva makes an appearance too! Just lots of fun stuff this chapter.

The lady’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk, while the other lady side-eyed her with a similar expression of impish delight.

“What are you looking so smug for, Margaret?” you asked, letting your needlework settle into your lap. “And you, Michonne? Did you not come from the duke’s bed this morning, hm?”

The dread-locked woman’s smile faded, but Margaret only bursted out into a loud cacophony of laughter. “Oh, you’re both lecherous, lascivious, unchaste women.”

“I am not!” you replied quickly, serious in your tone. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’ll have you know that I am as pure as the driven snow. Michonne is the unchaste one, I tell you.”

“There’s no reason I shouldn’t court the duke,” defended Michonne. “We’re of the same social standing. It is you, your highness, who is sleeping with―”

You dropped your embroidery hoop once more, this time with more fervor as you scowled at your lady-in-waiting and pointed accusatory in her direction. “I am sleeping with no one!” you replied. “And you’d better not spread that rumor, Michonne. I’m quite serious.”

Margaret stood from her chair to cross the solar and throw herself dramatically on the upholstered chaise lounge upon which you sat. With a flourish, she grabbed your hoop and tossed it carelessly upon the timber floor. 

“Excuse you, madam!” you laughed.

“Tell us about Sir Daryl,” she replied, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She nudged your shoulder with increasingly impatient shoves as you remained silent, hindering a giggle.

“Yes, tell us about how gallant he is,” laughed Michonne.

“Is he quite… muscular?” prodded Margaret.

Informing your ladies-in-waiting about the several excursions with the knight you’d made in the last four months was quickly becoming regretful. They’d been begging you for over a week to spill the details, each time insisting upon something more happening. But, alas, there wasn’t much to tell. Sir Daryl was your friend, yes, but nothing more. He cared for you, and, in many ways, you cared for him. He wasn’t like any knight you’d ever read about, he was… unconventional. He obeyed his lord, but he abided by his own code of conduct first and foremost. That code of conduct was not purely based in chivalry, as most knights seemed to be. 

That all being said, he was still so valiant, heroic, noble, even, in his own way. He was both the perfect picture of a knight, and the exact opposite. It almost frustrated you how much of a contradiction he was, and it led you to think of him much more than you would’ve had he been completely straightforward and easily understood, but he wasn’t. Even after five or six different trips to the outside, you still couldn’t quite get a handle on him. It thrilled you more than you were willing to outwardly admit, but inside you, you did feel a strange tickle at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard his voice call your name, or his hand touched you to instruct you with his knife, after he insisted that you learn to defend yourself against the Dead.

In your thoughts, you’d become too lost to recall Margaret’s question, until it boomeranged back into the forefront of your mind―is he quite muscular? 

A man’s figure had never really intrigued you before. What you knew of most men in court was that they were most often clad in loose-fitting tunics that failed to reveal any kind of silhouette. Daryl dressed not too dissimilarly, but the minimal armor he wore was tight-fitting enough to outline the brawny frame underneath. There were times he’d had to strip himself of his outer layers, namely his cloak and his surcote, until he was just in his linen shirt and chausses. Despite every convention that told you to pay no mind to the man’s undergarments, you found it nearly impossible not to allow yourself one or two curious moments to look upon the knight’s build. 

Of course he was quite muscular, he had to be. Though during your outings he did not wear a full suit of armor, he still carried about his person a heavy baldric and a greatsword, as well as an arbalest and a myriad of other weapons you could not bear to count. But he seemed soft, too, not having flesh that stretched thin over his lean muscles. No, he was still quite bulky, and warm. Very warm. So warm you but had to stand beside him to feel it. 

It occurred to you then how much time you’d spent thinking about the knight’s body, and how close you’d been to seeing it bare.

“I do not know, Margaret,” you lied. “How would I know such a thing?”

The lady narrowed her olive-colored eyes with knitted brows that further served to question you. Disbelief had characterized the ladies’ attitudes towards your denial, though it was true that you’d never touched the man more than a hug. If that was love, then perhaps you were in love, but you weren’t quite that naïve. At least, you weren’t naïve enough to admit it. 

“All knights are muscular,” answered Michonne matter-of-factly. “Let her highness be. Poor thing must already receive quite the thumping from Sir Dar―”

“Thumping?!” you replied, your horrified voice resounding over the ladies’ raucous laughter. “You’re terrible!”

The ladies’ mirth soon died down to a faltering giggle. Margaret sat up straight as she reached her hands up to fix her pearl-encrusted hennin, adjusting the translucent white veil back to its original dignified position. 

“Have you thought of it?” she asked with a smirk. 

“Of what?” You feigned innocence until the last possible second. It wouldn’t be befitting of a lady to even insinuate that you knew what she was talking about, but you did. From the moment he first put his hands on you, you knew of that desire, though you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t him who sparked it, but just the feeling. Any man could give you that feeling, right? Not just some knight… 

“Of laying with him?”

“No, not at all,” you lied again. “That would be wrong, you know that. We’re not married, and we could never be married, anyway. In any case, my feelings are not of that nature.”

Even as those false words tore through your vocal cords, you knew it was wrong, and you realized then, with a pit forming in your stomach and a rush of tingles surging through your veins, that you did feel some kind of attraction to the knight. It was evident in every thought of him that lingered in your mind long after he’d leave you alone in your chambers after a day of frolicking in the meadows and listening to the soft-spoken, knowledgeable man speak of every herb and tree and flower, his voice both gentle like a whisper and rough like sandpaper. 

You found that an emptiness creeped up on you at times when he wasn’t near you, a sense of something missing that had taken root inside your heart. When those roots were torn from you, you would soothe yourself with the recorded memory of his voice, his face, his body… 

Perhaps I do feel something for Sir Daryl, you thought to yourself.

But it didn’t matter what the true nature of your feelings were. The truth was that you could never admit these thoughts to anyone, not even him, and especially not your father. 

It wasn’t like you found yourself rather fond of a man like Duke Richard, who was below your class, but high enough to be your suitor. A knight was below nobility. Higher than the serfs, but too low for a woman of your status, the highest status. He would’ve been able to court a lady perhaps, like Michonne or Margaret, or any woman of noble birth, but not you. Certainly not you. 

So you willed the thoughts from your mind whenever they materialized, however they did so. The difficulty was in denying yourself the strange pleasure you felt from thinking of him, the longing. It was nearly unbearable to send those enchanting little shivers away, or to tear your gaze from him when you spotted him from a distance in the courtyard or the great hall. Oh, how you wished to allow yourself the thrill of thinking of him and his sweetness, his kindness, his devotion to you… But it was much too risky. 

What you didn’t know, though, was how he ached for you, too.

That very same evening, you’d been called to dinner with your father in the great hall, just as usual, but there was something on the king’s mind. His joviality was much more subdued, almost to the point of melancholy, but he kept his spirits up artificially. Smiles were propped up on crutches and laughs were haphazardly pieced together by glue. In fact, he hadn’t been himself for a while, but it was a gradual change in demeanor that seemed to evolve into a darker shade of blue as the days went by. 

There was much for him to be saddened by―the world was broken, he was indefinitely grieving the tragic loss of your mother, but these things had always been there since the Scourge began. No, this was something different, but you weren’t going to prod him, since it seemed that he himself wanted to display his usual image of jolly optimism.

As you poked at your generous helping of pheasant and turnips, the king talked at length about his plans for the upcoming annual jousting tournament, to which you simply nodded and interjected occasional brief acknowledgements. Noticing your lack of enthusiasm on the topic, he ventured to change the subject.

“I’ve been told you’ve fallen ill several times when I’m away,” he said, garnering your attention rather ungraciously as you bit your tongue in the midst of chewing on the tender game. As you dabbed your lips with your cloth serviette, he continued, his voice not coated in distrust or suspicion of your subterfuge, but drenched in fatherly concern. “Tell me, what seems to be the ailment, my dear? I could send for the apothecary… I’m concerned for you. I couldn’t bear to think…” His voice quivered before it trailed off into nothingness. Reaching across the surface of the wooden table, he grasped your hand. “Speak to me.”

What were you to say? Oh, father, I’m perfectly fine. In fact, I might be falling in love with a knight who is so graciously sneaking me out of the kingdom when you’re away! Or, if you continued the ruse, you were sure that the king’s apothecary would diagnose you with a typical case of hysteria, or perhaps a wandering womb. Perhaps both. A woman’s medical health was scarcely taken seriously, and besides, there was nothing wrong with you, anyway. If you were found to be hysteric, there was a chance you’d be married off immediately to whatever suitor was closest at hand. Afterall, the first and foremost remedy for a hysterical woman was sex with a man. Something about “sexual frustration” and the “healing properties of semen.” You weren’t entirely sure, as you’d put down that book on common medical ailments about as soon as you picked it up. It all seemed like hogwash to you.

“I’m fine, father,” you replied with a smile, though you still had to work up some kind of story to explain your illness. “It’s just… headaches.” That seemed to concern him more, though you were sure any description of symptoms would cause him worry. “It’s nothing serious. It’s probably just… foul air, or something of that sort. Nothing to worry about.”

You startled for a moment when a loud chuff from the tiger (yes, the tiger) at your father’s feet reverberated through you. “Oh!” you breathed, your hand holding your heart as you calmed. “Shiva… Father, may I feed her the rest of my pheasant? I’m full.”

The king seemed distracted now, his eyes roaming aimlessly towards the roaring fire of the hearth. “What? Oh, yes…” He pursed his lips to make a kissing sound at the cat, to which the great animal stood on its four feet. Her warm amber colored eyes followed his hand, which pointed towards you as you held out the game for the tiger. 

“Come here, my pet,” you cooed, having become quite accustomed to the exotic animal in your home. Ezekiel was never a conventional king, after all, and he took great care of Shiva, so why not keep her in the house? She was a beautiful creature, slyly slinking across the great hall with her prize after receiving a gentle pat between her ears from you. 

And now, you raised your eyes to look concerned at your father, whose behavior as of late worried you. “Now, won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Not only were you fretting for him, but it took the weight of your deception off your shoulders for a moment as you shifted the conversation to him. “You’ve been acting stranger than me. Is it…” The Saviors, you wanted to say, but you had to be careful, as the king must not know that you’d heard about the attacks, and that you’d known all this time that his trips were to meet with neighboring kingdoms to discuss what to do about the infamous Sir Negan and his band of violent plunderers. 

And, of course, there was the issue of… what you’d heard the man had wanted. You hadn’t heard word of this threat in months, not since you eavesdropped on your father’s conversation with the constable, but it hadn’t left your mind since. In fact, the only times you could forget about it were the times you spent close to Sir Daryl, who seemed to whisk you away on a new adventure each time you climbed on the back of his horse, holding tight to his waist and feeling the warmth of his broad back as you rested your chin happily upon his shoulder. His warm, earthy scent had lingered, too, as well as the feeling of his strong, brawny frame barely fitting in your arms’ grasp. 

Oh, yes. Father. “What is troubling you, father?”

In his heart, he knew you deserved to know, but he’d been dreading it until the last possible second, until he knew for sure whether or not the threat was completely legitimate, and not just some dramatic ramblings of a negligible ne’er-do-well. Now, though, it seemed that the threat of Sir Negan and the Saviors was very real, and very serious. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat as he straightened his back and narrowed his warm brown eyes to a dark, foreboding stare. Whatever he was about to say, you were half-certain you’d know what it would be, but that look on his face was not encouraging. Could it have been worse than what you’d already heard? Of course it could… It’s much more common for things to turn worse rather than better, you’d come to realize.

“There has been… something troubling me for quite some time, daughter. I―I was… not anticipating worrying you with the comings-and-goings in the kingdom. I always tried to keep such things off your mind, to not burden you with matters of petty crime or town gossip, but there’s…” He shifted again, a discomfort contorting his face as he tried to hold back a grimace. You’d never really seen such anger hidden behind his eyes, coming out so visibly. It made your heart race and your hand shake as you raised your goblet of cider to your lips. 

“My dear,” he sighed, “there’s peril in Alexandria. I must admit, I didn’t think it was this serious, but I’m afraid I can’t deny it any longer.”

A silence followed, torturing you as you waited for him to speak again. “Just tell me,” you said. “Tell me what’s happening.”

Please don’t give me to that man.

Knowing he was now left with the consequences of delaying his vague warnings, he inhaled deeply before speaking, his voice eerily calm, though you knew such a tone hid a terrible anxiety. 

“For the past four months,” he began, “the constable has been dealing with some… unsavory characters. They’re not from our kingdom, in fact, we do not know where they come from, other than a that it is a fortress known only as the Sanctuary… It’s a group of thugs. Racketeers, extortionists, thieves, whatever you want to call them. They’re led by a knight who calls himself Sir Negan.” At this point, he let out a heavy, deep huff. Even the mention of the man’s name seemed to disturb him. It certainly disturbed you, your body shivering as you inched closer and closer to the reveal of whatever terror was troubling the usually jovial king, and whatever news you were to receive regarding Sir Negan and his… desires.

“Sir Negan,” he continued, “he’s a very bad man… I won’t go into the details in front of you, because it’s surely nothing a lady needs to hear, but there is something you need to know.”

No, please… Please, father. 

In any other situation, the feeling of his warm hand cupping yours would’ve been welcome, but now, it only seemed like an attempt to reduce the blow of whatever terrible news you were about to receive. You felt as though your blood was rushing to your head, coagulating around the top. You blinked hard and sucked in strained, short breaths. 

To make matters worse, he drew out the heavy, unbearable silence of anticipation until the last possible second before he spoke again, finally relieving you of your anxiety, though you only felt like fainting when the words were fully processed by your dizzied mind. 

“He demands your hand in marriage.”

Pulling your hand away shakily you palmed your forehead, as if such a movement could possibly put an end to the incessant pounding. 

Though you knew this was coming, and you’d tried to prepare yourself to hear it for the past four months, you’d hoped that the knight would’ve been defeated, or he would’ve called off his threats when Alexandria’s militia cracked down on his men’s crime sprees, but no, this was not the case, and now you had to face the fact that this wasn’t just some idle threat or empty effort at intimidation, it was real, and it was getting closer. 

The king uttered your name a few times, but it was a blurred sound. Only when you blinked yourself back to reality did you process his words. “My dear…” He seemed near speechless, too, but his voice pulled through. “He’s left us numerous… messages, all of which threaten to seize the throne of Alexandria by force, unless I give you to him.”

But you wouldn’t, you thought. Please, father. You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t. 

This time, both of his hands reached out to form a cradle around yours. No longer was it a foreboding presence, but a comforting one. You raised your wet eyes to look at him, a small smile forming. How could he smile at a time like this? 

He squeezed your hands, then spoke in an almost dulcet, sentimental tone. “But I’d let this castle burn to embers before I would ever let a man like that take you away.”

Thank God!

“Oh, father,” you sighed in relief, though it was a short-lived comfort. The thought of your kingdom that you loved so much burning to the ground, or being ransacked and sieged by such scoundrels… It filled you with a rage and a fear and a sadness beyond anything you’d felt before. You didn’t know you could feel so hot, but your anger was prickling at your skin like the wild flames of a raging fire. “But… we cannot let them kill our people, take our kingdom. Can’t the constable form a battalion to fight them? This… sanctuary… If you know where it is, you could send a cavalry of your best knights to wipe them out, couldn’t you?”

“That’s the problem—we have no way of knowing where the Sanctuary is. We’ve tried capturing a Savior, interrogating him, but he was so loyal to Negan, even said he was Negan. They all say that—‘I’m Negan. We’re all Negan.’ All we know of Negan, besides his rather bold demands, is that he wields a spiked mace and wears black plate armor. Besides that, we know from neighboring kingdoms that they, too, have been weakened by the Saviors, and it appears that, if we tried to form a coalition against them, our combined defenses would not be enough to hold against them. Their numbers are great, and it’s only a matter of time before they stir up more trouble, which is why I’ve decided that you are to be accompanied from now on by a personal bodyguard, just in case.”

You perked up at that, back straightened and eyes staring wide at your father, not so much in shock, but in excitement, because you immediately had a particular knight in mind. 

“Of course, we’ll still be trying to get whatever information we can, following leads to see where this Sanctuary is, but first and foremost, I want my daughter to be safe, no matter what. Day and night. Always under the supervision of a bodyguard.”

Oh, please, father… Let me choose him. 

“Yes, father,” you replied with a nod, and a sweet smile, as you prepared yourself to beg on your knees to choose. Of course Sir Daryl would have to be your bodyguard, no question. You trusted him more than any of the king’s guards, and you were sure that every other knight in Alexandria paled in comparison to the gallantry of Sir Daryl of House Dixon. And besides, you felt safe with him. “Pray, who will you assign to be my bodyguard? Or will I be able to choose?”

The king raised a wiry gray eyebrow. “Oh… Well, I was thinking of assigning one of my guards, but is there someone in particular you had in mind?”

Trying not to appear too eager, you shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your fork to play with the leftover cold turnips on your plate. If you weren’t trying to remain nonchalant, you would’ve screamed his name to the heavens—Sir Daryl! 

“I’d like to think about it,” you said. “I will let you know soon. I’m rather spent. I think I’ll retire now.”

With an exchange of goodnights and I love you’s, you retreated to your quarters with a spring in your step, eager to next see Sir Daryl, and to ask him to be your protector, officially.

The wind stirred up a flurry of leaves in the distance, while a dark cluster of clouds began to converge above you. A single, featherlight droplet landed upon your cheek, but you only smiled up at the gray sky above you. It was good to feel the rain. Back at the keep, your father would never allow you to set foot into the courtyard in this weather for fear of you catching cold, and perhaps that made the rain all the more magical for you. Its forbiddenness only perpetuated your intrigue. 

When a chill wind made you visibly shiver, you were reminded of the knight’s presence as he draped his heavy wool cloak over your shoulders. “We should go back,” he said, his voice low and raspy. You’d grown so comforted by it, its scratchiness akin to the very same wool you felt tickling your fingers as you bundled yourself up. 

“Just a little while longer?” you asked. After a while, you’d begun to notice Sir Daryl was more accommodating to you when widened your eyes or spoke with a particular lilt. In fact, you couldn’t recall a recent time in which the man had said no to you. “Please?”

He bent his outstretched leg with a huff, resting his elbow upon his knee as he debated for a moment, knowing full well that your saccharine pleas were going to win out in the end anyway. In fact, he didn’t want to head back, either. He wanted to stay planted in this circle of overgrown grass, surrounded by the ancient standing stones that towered over the two of you, making you both feel so small, so unimportant. Somehow, it was a welcome relief for both of you, being in this world where status and circumstance didn’t seem to matter. 

Whatever fight was in him, it melted like an ice cube over an open flame when your lips curled into an effortless smile, your gaze directed at him, and only him. Just a little smile sent his way was enough to make him feel more special than any nobleman. So, he gave in, as he knew he would. He always did. 

“Just a little while,” he agreed, leaning back on his forearms to stretch out his legs once again. Closing his eyes, he held his face flat up to the sprinkling cloud above, with a slight upward tilt of his pleasantly hairy chin. You followed suit, leaning back to turn on your side and admire his profile—his short, snub nose, wispy brown hairs hanging unruly over his forehead and climbing over his cheeks like overgrown ivy. Somewhere in the darkness of his mop of wavy locks, there was a sliver of pale skin poking out, identifying his ear. It was one of the many small details of him you admired, and you found yourself wanting to outstretch your finger and just trace the helix of his ear, but your shyness overcame you, as it always did whenever you thought of touching him. Lately, you’d thought of touching him in places you’d never even seen drawings of before. Actually, you almost had no idea what to expect of those places, but you imagined them nonetheless.

“Daryl?” you asked, letting your head fall into the cradle of your arm as you tried to memorize this angle of him, just for your own pleasure. He was making you so selfish, in that everything he did was becoming an indulgence for you. 

“Hm?” he answered with a grunt. 

In a matter of moments, you had to actually think about what you were going to say. You hadn’t thought that far ahead, you just wanted to say his name. Maybe, in your subconscious, you really wanted to ask if he’d let you hold his hand. Your innocence wouldn’t let you do much more than that, but even that was more than you should’ve done. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Your breath shuddered when he turned to look at you, his eyes sleepy and soft. “Nothin’.” That was a lie. He’d been thinking about you, as he always did these days. He was thinking about all the things he was too afraid to do, and how he might’ve done them if only he could gather the strength to. 

“Nothing?”

“Nothin’.”

“That’s impossible,” you laughed, using your arm to prop yourself up until you were looking down on him. His eyes followed you curiously, and yours trailed down the buttons of his charcoal colored pourpoint. The garment was tight-fitting, hugging the man’s strapping frame. When your eyes reached his belt, you ripped your gaze away, back to his face. “How can one not think? I’m always thinking.”

“Just… wasn’t thinkin’ about anythin’ in particular. What were you thinkin’ about, then, princess?”

You. 

“Well, lots of things, like how it’s dangerous for us to be out here.”

“No shit,” he snickered playfully. Though you’d never really heard such language used in front of you before, you found it quite amusing when the knight cursed. 

“I mean, with the Saviors… Surely you’ve heard of them.”

“Mm, heard some talk about it.”

You wished you could've been so blissfully unaware enough to say you’d only heard “some talk.” You wondered just what kind of talk he’d heard, and if he knew of Negan’s plans. Only three nights ago had the king confirmed your worst fears, and it plagued your mind more than it had since the first you heard of it. That reminded you… At some point today, you’d have to work up the courage to ask the knight to be your bodyguard. Just how on Earth were you going to do that? 

“What did you hear?”

He felt the shiver in your voice, but it didn’t seem to be from the cold wind or raindrops. It came from inside you, and now, he grew a little worried, as if you knew something he didn’t. He sat up slowly, almost cautiously. “Not much, just that the constable was strengthening Alexandria’s defenses in case of an attack. Why? Did you hear something more?”

“Well… Yes. There’s more.” As you debated on whether or not to tell him of what troubled you so, you felt a tightening around your body. Daryl’s gloved hands were wrapping you more snugly in his cloak, to which you raised your head and smiled up at him. Without any words between you, he met your gaze, and offered a slight smile in return. “Thank you.”

“You seem cold…” he replied quickly, trailing off before clearing his throat. “And sad.” 

Actually, you were quite warm, but it was the sadness, and the fear, inside you that made you shiver. “I’m a bit melancholy. I… do not know if I should tell you what troubles me.”

He chewed his bottom lip while his brows furrowed in concentrated thought. He had to tread this territory carefully, knowing his position. Status dictated everything, from the food one ate to the clothes on one’s back. Despite how close he felt to you now, he couldn’t risk knowing too much of what he wasn’t entitled to know. But, then again, he’d already broken almost every rule in the book, all for your sake. If he decided that he could break yet another rule, just to alleviate the sadness in your heart, he’d find a way to forgive himself.

“Princess,” he said, the reiteration of your title having become somewhat of an affectionate pet name for you, now that most verbal social niceties were extinct between you two. “I don’t wanna… stick my nose where it don’t belong, but, if I may… You should know that you can tell me anything.”

“I can?” you replied, relief lighting up your face even at the idea of finally being able to tell someone of your worries. When you recalled the contents of what you were about to tell him, the color drained from your visage.

He only could focus on a few of the keywords, but they were the ones that melded together to fill his heart with dread—Sir Negan… demanding… hand in marriage. 

No, was his first thought, and it slowly morphed into a whirlwind of dizzied pleas that bounced off the walls of his head, directed towards whatever unseen force directed the universe and made his worst dream come true. For you to leave, to be taken against your will and to see the real evils of this world, that was something he hadn’t been able to quite fathom, though it plagued his mind whenever he remembered the risk of developing these feelings for you. He should’ve known all along that as soon as he allowed his inescapable tenderness for you to invade every nook and cranny of his heart, he’d have to face some kind of ache much greater than his fear of his affections going unrequited. No, this was much worse. The prospect of you getting hurt was beyond any other pain.

“But my father won’t let it happen,” you added, only slightly abating his worries. Still, he knew about men like this. They’d stop at nothing to get what they want, especially in a world where it’s just too easy to take. “But Sir Negan’s threats terrify me. I… wonder if it would be better for the kingdom, to spare so many lives, for my father to just—”

“No,” he interjected. “No, that’s not an option.”

As always, you were amused by his sudden boldness. “I do not want the kingdom to fall because of my father’s pride.”

“It’s not pride,” he replied. Never in a million years did he think he’d defend the decision of a monarch, and yet, here he was. “It’s the right thing to do. He loves you. No one should ever just give away someone they love.”

And then it hit him, his lips hanging open ever so slightly, chapped against the cold wind. Like the Red Sea, his mind diverged into two disparate voices, one that seemed to be his own, the other, some much more chivalrous caricature of himself.

First, his own voice choked out: I love you. 

The farcical knight replied, Shut your mouth, you lecherous fopdoodle. No you do not.

Yes, I do.

No, you do not. Lust. Do not lust in your heart after her beauty or let her captivate you with her eyes.

If you spit another useless bible verse at me, I’ll drill a hole in my head.

And, in a matter of milliseconds, the voice left, with only Daryl’s own inner voice there to come to terms with what his feelings really meant. 

I won’t let anyone have her.

With night came the usual routine—Daryl thought of some distraction to occupy the guards before he escorted you back to your chambers. This time, his cautiousness led him to latch your windows shut himself, and to leave a freshly sharpened knife upon your bedside table. 

It only reminded you again of what you’d yet to ask of him. 

“Daryl?” you said, halting him in his tracks just as he was about to take his leave. “May I ask something of you, if I haven’t asked too much of you already?”

Before he turned back to face you, he smiled sweetly to himself, a smile he had to hide from you, lest he seem too eager to serve you, but, oh, he was. He lived to serve you now. Not the duke, not the king, not even God—not anyone else but you. 

“Yes, milady?” he replied formally. It almost threw you for a loop, the way he could swing so effortlessly between decorum and familiarity. “And don’t give me another shiny thing.”

Actually, you weren’t even sure if you had any more shiny things to give to him, since you’d given him a different piece of jewelry each time he returned you home safely. “No,” you replied with a chuckle under your breath. “It isn’t that. I actually wanted to ask… Well, my father says I must choose someone to be my personal bodyguard, and…” Swallowing hard, you shrugged your shoulders as a girlish bashfulness overcame you. Unbecoming behavior for a princess, your etiquette instructor would’ve said. “You make me feel safe.”

The voice inside his head returned for a split second, just to frantically reiterate what he’d said earlier: I love you I love you I love you I—

“And I know you’ve done so much for me already that it’s terribly ungracious of me to ask you to do such a thing, and you are under absolutely no obligation to say yes, but—”

“I’ll be your bodyguard.” Indeed, he was sure he would not be able to handle the idea of any other man protecting you in such a... thorough way.

“Oh?” You sighed as the tightness escaped from your diaphragm. “Oh, Daryl, thank you. I don’t think I could ever repay you for anything you’ve done for me.” But how you wished you could, in ways that your innocent mind couldn’t have even fully fathomed. Your heart and your body, however, knew all too well. 

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said bluntly. “You don’t owe anyone anything.”

But you could still give him something. Not jewelry, but something that symbolized much more than that. 

The sparkle of the flame that reflected against the steel of the knife upon your bedside table attracted your attention as your mind instructed you to cross the room and take the blade in your hands. Strange, you’d never held a knife before. Well, only steak knives. 

“What the hell are you doin’?” asked the knight. “I said I’d do it.”

“I am not going to kill you, sir,” you laughed, crossing back over to him with your other arm outstretched, the long, flared sleeve of your scarlet houppelande hanging most elegantly before him. “Hold my sleeve, if you please.”

The knight’s gaze turned characteristically suspicious, with narrowed eyes studying your almost mischievous face. After all, you’d never done anything like this before. “Why?”

“Just hold my sleeve… Keep it steady.”

Cautiously, he took the end of the fabric between his calloused fingers. It was soft, like everything about you. Luxurious silk of this kind was truly hard to come by, and he almost feared he’d ruin it just with one touch. 

As you raised your dominant hand, the one that held the knife, he began to worry. “Careful with that thing,” he said, following the blade with his eye as you raised it to your sleeve, just below your arm. His confusion at your actions was overwhelmed by his irrational fear that you’d cut yourself. 

As the long vermillion shard of your sleeve fell to the floor, he nearly let out a gasp. “Now why the hell did you do that, woman? This some kind of new fashion statement?”

“No!” you laughed, bending over to retrieve the fallen garment. With the knife now replaced on your nightstand, your delicate fingers worked to fold the piece of fabric into a triangular shape. Despite his suspicions, he didn’t dare assume he knew what you were doing, until he did. “Ahem… Sir Daryl of House Dixon, oh gallant knight, will you accept this favor, and be my champion?”

If he hadn’t been frozen in awe and confusion, he might’ve laughed at your sudden formality, but you seemed serious. “What?”

That response almost stripped you of all your shaky confidence. Almost. “Have you never accepted a lady’s favor?”

Never been given one. 

“I, uh… Why?”

“Why what?” you laughed.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

You rolled your eyes, as to you it was obvious. Who else would you give a favor to? Besides, he was the only knight you knew well enough to do so. 

“Because a lady always bestows her favor upon her favorite knight.”

He swore he could feel every nerve in his body twitch and tighten with every second he replayed that word in his mind. Favorite. He was sure that in all his life, he’d never been anyone’s favorite anything.

“So, will you accept?”

Words were never the knight’s strong suit. At times, he found actions to be much easier for him to communicate through, and this seemed to be one of those times. 

He wasn’t sure of the official ceremony, or if there even was one, but he was already a bit weak in the knees anyway, so he decided to let himself kneel before you, hand held out to accept your favor. 

Only three words persisted in his head when you delicately bestowed the red sleeve upon his palm: I love you. 

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

[thebalancedangel]

Daryl: You better change your name to YUMyulack, because you look like a snack.

Yumyulack: ...*spontaneously combusts*

*an hour later*

Korvo: What the FUCK were you doing? *annoyedly tending to Yumyulack's burns*

Yumyulack: ...Smoking.

Korvo: I got that, but what were you doing BEFORE that?

[zinkadear]

Yumyulack is so cute with both Mark and Daryl. 😊

[thebalancedangel]

[I call this ship Darylack.

Also, look at Yum’s precious smile!]

god this is so cute

[cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien]

The Main Kids of Solar Opposites

[spinetrick]

Yumyulacks and his bestie playing the switch

playing games with yumyulack has to involve a lot of yelling

[currentlyonline]

i've been watching a shit ton of solar opposites recently an d i've decided that i need more yumyulack & daryl content

[xoregano]

I really like Daryl. I hope we see more of him next season

Bonus comic: