#I love getting him to say that line and laughing when Carl dies like a bitch bc he can't stand hearing an oppressed man be angry
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lesbianwyllravengard · 2 years ago
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Whats your favorite dbh Line
Ooh nice question! I love the line when Markus is angry with Carl when he visits him after the Jericho raid, and Carl makes some dumb comment about Markus's "hatred", to which Markus replies "What you call hatred is just anger in the face of injustice!" it's entirely true and probably my favourite line, but I like others as well
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imtryingbuck · 2 months ago
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Epilogue
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Y/n L/n becomes Queen of Astoria not that she wanted to. Prince James of Winterfeld meets her and falls in love.
Word count: 6,142
Warnings: angst. fluff. swearing. mentions of being sick. mentions of being barren. y/n’s father. mentions of wishing for a baby to die (in flashback). hitting of a teenager. panic attack. 
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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"Go and fetch Queen Y/n, quickly!"
The young servant bows before her King before making a bee line out of the chambers and down the corridors, not even apologising to the other servants or knights she bumps in to along the way. She doesn't want to disappoint her King so saying a simple 'sorry' will have to be saved until later.
The young girl knows exactly where to find the Queen and pushes her legs to keep carrying her small frame, ignoring the burning pain she feels in her lungs.
The sun shined in the sky on the hottest day of the year, the chatter of the townsfolk ring out in the air as they move around through the market - each person paying no mind to the servant as she continues running towards the woods.
"Are you ready to admit your defeat?" A familiar soft yet harsh voice hits the girls ears.
"Never!"
"Ah, very well. I must kill you now" Just as the sword is raised in the air the servant calls for the Queen.
"Yes?"
"The King, he said it is urgent."
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Six months after Y/n and Bucky married Carlson kept lingering around the council table, his eyes looking at her before dropping to his hands, his mouth opening and closing before any word could escape him.
Sighing she looked up from the papers in front of her and looked at her best friend. “What?”
“Huh? Oh nothing.”
“Carls you have been pacing around for the last hour looking like you want to say something, so… out with it.”
“I-I…” huffing and dropping down in one of the empty seats, Y/n winces as Carlson’s head bangs on the table, he mumbles something.
“What was that?”
“I wish to marry Larissa.”
“Then marry her.”
“D-Do I have your permission?”
“You are both my friends, all I wish is for you two to be happy.” She smiled at him.
“But I am your best friend, right?”
“Of course, no need to get territorial.” They both burst out laughing. “Do it under the willow tree.”
“Why there?”
“I may have been telling stories but I noticed the way you stared at her. I think it would be sweet.”
“When should I do it?”
“Now if you have a ring?”
“I have my mother’s.”
At the mention of his mum they smiled sadly at each other, a fever took her away from him and his dad when he was only eight years old. Y/n remembers holding him in her arms as he drenched her dress with his tears as his mum took her last breath, she remembers holding his hand as the coffin went into the ground. For months Carlson didn’t smile despite her attempts at making him crack one, Carl was no better.
“They would have loved Larissa.”
“Do you think?”
“I know they would. Go and I will have someone fetch her.”
Carlson smiles widely and jumps up out of his seat, pressing a quick kiss to her temple he runs out of the room. Y/n made her way to the room where her sisters, mum and Larissa were doing their needlework and asked for Larissa to follow her, leading her friend arm in arm outside she walked her towards the willow tree, smiling and nodding in encouragement as she let go of Larissa’s arm. Watching her best friend get down on one knee had a smile on her lips which only widened when Larissa nods with a huge smile.
Three weeks later Y/n walked Larissa down the aisle to where Carlson was waiting, as the celebration began to draw to a close it was the same on her own wedding night where an argument was made with the maester who wanted to be in the room, but this time it wasn’t Bucky but Y/n arguing with them. The argument didn’t last long of course.
A few days after the wedding of her two friends Y/n squinted her eyes at seeing Annalise floating by the open door of the private family garden.
“What are you doing Anna?”
“Oh! Sister I did not see you there.” She says coming outside, a sweet smile on her lips.
“No of course you did not. What do you want?”
“I do not want anything.”
“No? Right, well come and sit with me.”
The two sisters - the oldest and the youngest out of the children shared from the same parents - sat in silence watching as the birds flew overhead in the sky. That was until Anna broke it.
“C-can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What is marriage like?”
“I assume it is different for everyone.” Y/n starts, but she knows that’s not what her sister is asking. “For me I was lucky to marry a man I love, it is beautiful, though I do admit I am not fond of him being able to see me as I am.”
Annalise frowns and cocks her head to the side. “How do you mean?”
“He sees me as Y/n, not the queen, not the warrior, just me. But in a way I like it, you know?”
“I do.” A small smile tugs at her lips before dropping quickly. “Florence will be wedded soon to that prince.”
“She will be.”
“Is she scared?”
“I do not think so, they have spent so much time together and I believe there are feelings for one another, why are you asking me this?”
“I… I wish to be lucky like you, sister. I wish to marry for love.”
Taking her younger sisters hand in hers, she looks in her eyes and sees her younger self staring back at her. “Liam, am I right?”
“H-how did you know?”
“I am not blind, I see the way you both look at each other.” Pushing back a strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Also you do not like horses.”
The two sisters start laughing, Anna nodding in agreement to her oldest sisters comment. “If- if he asked…”
“If Liam asks for your hand then I will grant it.”
“And you are not mad? That he is a stable boy and not a prince?”
“All I have ever wanted for my sisters is to be happy, if a stable boy makes you happy then so am I.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” Anna wraps her arms around her sister and pulls her close, snuggling into Y/n’s warmth when she feels her sisters arms around her.
Later that day Annalise and Liam came into the throne room where Y/n was talking to Bucky as he sat next to her, Liam got down on one knee and bows and asks his queen permission to marry her sister, the longer he was down on one knee the more he got nervous as she didn’t say anything. Only letting go of the breath he was holding when she smiles and says another wedding will be taking place. Not even two weeks later Bucky walked Annalise down the aisle - Y/n had to stifle her laughter at seeing the proud look on her husbands face as he walked his sister-in-law towards her soon to be husband.
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“Are you sure?”
“I am, my Grace.”
“Do your checks again because I think you are wrong.”
“M-my Queen this is the fourth time we have checked. You are with child.” The maester smiled.
“Oh.”
“I think you are three months along, my Grace.”
“Right. Right, okay, thank you, you may leave now and do not speak a word of this please.”
The two maesters shared a look between each other, it wasn’t the reaction they were expecting when they told her that she was with child, but smiled at her and promised that they wouldn’t speak a word of it, they left quickly once she dismissed them.
Her hand went to her stomach and frowned at feeling the small bump, how she didn’t notice it before was lost on her, she felt sick as she eyed up the small bump in the mirror - her mum told her that her father was lying about her barren and now according to the maesters she was three months along. Sitting down on the chair she tried to breathe, she closed her eyes.
*flashback*
Y/n forces herself not to wince as she tries to sit on the wooden chair at the dinner table knowing that her father was watching, even with the pain shooting through her body she refused to show her father any weakness.
Dinner was eaten in silence - even her youngest sister who normally liked to talk with her mouth full of half chewed food, kept quiet. It wasn’t until food was gone and the plates were cleared by the servants that the king decided to speak.
“King George wrote to me, wanted to talk about marrying his son to my oldest daughter.” He looked over at Y/n smirking at seeing her dig her nails into the arm of the chair. “But I wrote back to him to say that she was not able to marry.”
Y/n, her mum and stepmother in unison let go of the breath they were holding, the thank you dying on her mums tongue as her husband continued. “I told him that it was unfair to marry his son to my barren daughter.”
“What? How could you say that about our daughter?” Her mum shouted, her eyes going back and forth between her husband and daughter, noticing the stare off they were having.
“It is true. No Gods would allow her to be a mother.”
“You cannot say something like that, she is a child!”
“She is barren!” Her sisters flinch and let out cries as he screams, slamming his hand on the table. “She is a barren useless bitch!”
Nobody dared to say anything or move, the only sound in the hall was her two youngest sisters crying quietly not understanding why their father was angry. Her mum was staring at her in hopes to catch her eyes to silently tell her to back down but Y/n’s eyes were on her father. Though she was thirteen years old she knew what barren meant, she knew that it meant that she would never be able to have children and at thirteen she didn’t care, she already had to help with her younger sisters - she remembers when each of them were born and couldn’t understand why everyone kept saying they were cute… because to her they weren’t, she had witnessed her mum and stepmother give birth and the thought of going through the pain that they were going through wasn’t something that was pleasing to her.
Her mums heart dropped when her oldest daughter, her starlight, start laughing.
“Are you scared that I would have what you could not?”
“And what is that?”
“Sons.”
Her grin only grows when she sees the twitch in her father’s cheek. “I am your father!”
“Unfortunately.”
“I am the king!” He once again shouts. “You will show me respect!”
Pushing her chair away from the table, holding the wince that tries to make an appearance, she leans on the table. “I will do no such thing.”
As she walks away from the hall she can hear her father screaming for her to stop, not even flinching when a cup flies past her and smashes against the wall.
*present*
Y/n stood up way too fast which caused her head to go light as she rushed over to the bowl, she had only managed to get down on her knees before her breakfast came up. Groaning once she was finished, she sat against the wall - not even flinching when her head banged against the stone - closing her eyes she went into another memory.
*flashback*
All she wanted to do was train with Carlson but the men in the ring wouldn’t let her, Carlson was fine as he was a boy but because she was a girl she wasn’t allowed.
“I can fight!”
“You are a weak little girl. You cannot.”
“I am not weak!” They all laughed at her. It probably didn’t help that she was stomping her foot. “Please let me fight.”
“No-“
“Wait, is this the barren princess?” One of the men asked, eyeing her up and down.
“Yes this is her.”
“I am not barren.” She mumbled as she shifted under the intense gaze of the men.
“Let her fight with us. If the barren princess wants to fight who are we to protest.”
“Not barren but thank you.”
It had been a year since the dinner disaster as her stepmother calls it, the servants were quick to tell others what they had heard which meant that the whole kingdom had heard what her father had called her. She had grown use to the pity looks from the people, she had grown use to the failed attempts of whispers of how her womb that would remain empty for the rest of her days when she would walk by, she had gotten use to pretending that it didn’t affect her when in reality Carlson had held her in his arms more times than he could count as she cried about her being a failure as a woman with him being always quick to tell her that she wasn’t a failure.
Her first time in the ring the men were arguing with one another about who was going to be the first one to fight the barren princess. None of them went easy on her. Every time she went down Carlson flinched and silently begged for her to stay down, rolling his eyes when she didn’t.
“Stay down barren princess.” The large man panted. Though he had to admit he admired her bravery… or stupidity.
“I am not barren!” She growled, spitting out the blood from her mouth, she stood up and charged at him.
Her sword clashed with his and for the first time since she had gone into the ring she was getting the upper hand, the men began cheering her on with Carlson screaming the loudest. Her opponent chuckles himself as her face morphed into confusion as she manages to get him down on the ground.
Holding his hands in surrender he smiled at her. “You have bested me, my barren princess.”
“I am not barren.” Slamming her sword into the ground right next to his head, she leans down closer to him. “I am not the barren princess. Do you understand.”
“That you are not.” He chuckles, standing up he picks her up and places her onto his shoulder. “All hail the warrior princess!”
*present*
Looking around the room she tried getting her heart rate down, before she chuckled at the memory of the servant going pale at seeing the bruises that covered the majority of her little body that she got from training with the skilled warriors of Astoria.
As she placed her hand on her stomach there was a knock at the door.
*flashback*
The adrenaline was still pumping through her as she jumped on her bed - she, Carlson, her father and his army had just come back home victorious from the battle, though her thigh hurt from where the enemy had sliced her she kept jumping on the large bed.
A knock on her door had her stop bouncing before she could tell the person to enter the door opened, her shoulders instantly slumping and that once happy feeling she had faded away as she made eye contact with her father.
“Get down.” Huffing she does as he says and gets down from the bed. “Now sit.”
“I am not a dog.”
“Just sit.” She sat knowing that if she just complied with him he would leave quickly. “What was you thinking?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sneaking into line with my men! It was reckless, you could have…” Closing his eyes he blew a breath before turning his back on her. “You are not a trained fighter.”
“I want to fight and you have to admit father I was doing well.”
“You could have died! How stupid can you be?” He yelled, then began pacing up and down in her room.
She sat there staring at her father, hope blossoming in her heart at his words. “Would… would you have cared?” She whispered.
“What?”
“Would you have cared if I did die?”
That hope she had forming in her heart died the second the words came out of his mouth. “No. But your mother would.”
“Why do you hate me?”
“What are you talking about?”
Standing up she made her way over to her father and stood in front of him. “Why do you hate me?”
“I do not.”
“No?”
“No.”
“And yet you say that you would not have cared if I died on the battle field.” He tries to walk away but she grabs him by his arm, her hand trembling slightly when he looks down at her hand in complete disgust. “All I have ever wanted was for you to love me but yet you have had me beaten, belittled and casted aside, an- and I do not understand why.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Anything! Tell me what I did so terrible to you. Tell me how I can make you love me as you love my sisters. Anything, father, please.”
Ripping her hand off of him harsher than he expected which caused her to stumble backwards. “You are not the child I wanted!” He shouted. “The second you were born I wished you died before you took your first breath! You were not the boy I wanted.”
Lowering her head she fought with herself not to cry right there and then in front of him. “I-I am sorry.”
“Sorry? Sixteen years too late.” He replied coldly.
Still she tried to gain back her love for him after three years of feeling nothing for him, he was her father after all. “I can fight in your army, I proved that to you. I can prove myself to you.”
“No!” Once again he shouts, she silently wonders how his throat wasn’t hurting yet. “You are useless to me.”
“Why do you not kill me then? Do it now, no one would question you, mother will get over it-“. Her words get cut off by her father’s hand smacking her across her face.
“I could do that, yes, but what kind of father would I be by doing that?”
“Y-you… I do not understand. You hate me that much is true, you torment me, you-you hurt me and yet you are too much of a coward to kill your own daughter that is useless to you. It does not make sense.”
“Do you know how many kings, nobles, hells even common men, have offered me an alliance due to me having a daughter who is barren?”
Her nose flares at that word, having grown to detest it, she clenched her fist by her sides. “Ah, so they pity you.”
Before she could realise what was happening her father’s hand came into contact with her face once more, knocking her off balance causing her to bang her head against the table.
*present*
“Y/n! Sweetheart, please come back to me.”
“B-Bucky?”
When she came back the present she noticed Bucky and Carlson kneeling in front of her, she was backed into a corner with her knees pulled up to her chest, her whole body was trembling with sweat dripping down her face. Her eyes shifting between her husband and best friend as her grip tightened on her dress.
“Y/n/n, it is alright, you are safe I promise you.”
“C-Carls-“.
“I swear to you that everything is fine. You are with me and Bucky, look.”
Looking at Bucky she frowns at seeing the heartbroken expression on his face. “I-“ Taking a deep breath, once, twice. “I am fine. I am fine.”
“You gave us quite the scare, my love.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to.”
“Y/n, what happened?” Carlson asked as he smoothed out her hair, his heart aching at seeing his best friend in this position again.
“N-nothing. I am fine.”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I- it was just a memory, that is all.” She tried to smile though it came out as a grimace. “Why are you here?”
“Your guard heard you in distress so one came and got us.”
“Right.” With the help of the two men she stood up, smoothing her dress out she tried to remember what she was doing before she allowed the memories to take over. As she moved around the room she could feel the two sets of eyes on her, looking over her shoulder at them she gave them a questioning look. “What?”
“Please tell us what happened.” Bucky begged.
“I- I was told something and I do not know what happened, it felt so real. I was a child again.” Shaking her head she sighed. “It does not matter.”
“What was you told?” Carlson asked, he couldn’t understand it himself why his eyes trailed to her stomach, only widening when she nods slowly.
Bucky noticed the look of pure joy on his friends face, frowning when the two best friends were having a silent conversation that he had no idea what it was about. “Either one of you want to let me in on this conversation?”
Y/n walks slowly over to him and takes his hands into her own and places them on her stomach, his ocean coloured eyes widen, going from hers to where his hands were resting. “They said I am three months along.”
“Y/n…” Dropping to his knees he rested his forehead against her stomach. “I am going to be a father.”
“Yes.” She smiled down at him. “I did not believe them so I had them check four times.”
Both of the men chucked at her words, knowing that she probably asked the maester to check again - hells if Y/n had it her way she would be getting the maesters to check again and again even if her stomach was swollen to the point of exploding.
“I told you that he was wrong Y/n/n. Please allow me to be the first one to give you my congratulations, you will make wonderful parents.” Carlson presses a kiss to her temple and pats Bucky - who is still on his knees - on the back. “I will leave you two to get some rest, you need it, my Queen.”
“Carlson was right, he was wrong.” Bucky knew about her father, of course he did, he had heard the whispers of her being barren from the moment he came to Astoria, it wasn’t until after they were married that he had gained the courage to ask her about the whispers - so she told him the truth, his heart racing with anger at her father, hating the man he had never met. “Our babe is in here.” He whispered.
“Are you happy?”
“More than happy.” Finally standing up he cupped her face and kissed her. “I love you. Gods knows I love you.”
“I love you too.”
When a yawn makes an appearance Bucky is quick to untie her hair from the braids and brush out the tangles, undoing the laces to her dress he helps her slide her dress off and her slip - since being married they both preferred sleeping naked, he quickly removes his own clothes before picking her up and carries her to bed, gently laying her on their bed he helps her get under the covers, climbing in next to her.
With her head resting on his chest he drew invisible shapes on her bare skin - knowing that it helps her fall asleep - he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you, my sweet love.”
“I love you too.” She mumbled. “Oh, I just remembered we were supposed to marry a long time ago.”
“W-what? Y/n?” Looking down he smiled softly at seeing her already asleep, he made a mental note to ask her what she meant in the morning.
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Steve and Sam stood leaning against the wall their eyes bouncing between Bucky and Carlson as the two men paced back and forth in the hallway as if they were caged animals, their fists clenching as Y/n’s screams bounced off the walls. Both stopping every time everything went quiet, only to resume their pacing when they heard her screaming again.
When the door opened Bucky and Carlson nearly collided with each other with how fast they moved towards the door.
“How is she?” They spoke in unison.
“She is well. The babe is here.”
They both sigh of happiness at hearing that Y/n was well, and that the babe had finally arrived twelve hours after her waters broke. Carlson wrapped his arms around Bucky and smiled. “Go and see them.”
“Are you not coming in?”
“I will see them soon.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here with me, for her.” Carlson nodded then pushed him closer to the door.
Bucky didn’t know what he was going to walk in on but seeing the bloodied sheets being bundled into a ball made him feel sick knowing that was his wife’s blood however that sick feeling went away the second he laid eyes on Y/n - sweat still dripping down her flushed face, her hair a complete mess and a dazed look in her eyes, he thought she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.
The air got caught in his throat. His eyes followed hers that’s when he sees her holding their babe. The babe that he had been talking to whilst it grew inside of her was now here, the babe he loved the second he found out he was going to be a father, he wanted to see if the babe had its mothers nose like he said it would yet he couldn’t force his feet to move.
That was until Y/n looked up at him and smiled, beckoning him closer, it took three large steps for him to be at her side.
“A boy.” She smiled at him.
“He has your nose.” Chuckling when their son scrunched his nose up. “Oh he is perfect Y/n. Have you thought of a name yet?”
“I-I would like to name him after my brother, if that is fine with you?”
“Archie? Our little Archie is perfect.”
When her mum and sisters came in they instantly crowded the cradle where Archie slept peacefully with his stomach full of milk, her mum burst out crying at hearing the name her grandson was given which caused Y/n to panic that she had done something wrong.
“He is a mixture of the two of you.” Her mum wailed, gripping Bucky’s shoulders for dear life.
“You are not mad about his name?”
“Oh you fool, of course I am not! I named your brother after my own, my mother did the same.”
When it was Carlson’s turn to come in he had his hand on Larissa’s back, leaving his wife’s side the second he laid eyes on Archie. Bucky being ever the gentleman helped his friend sit in the seat he was occupying.
“Hi little one, I am your uncle Carlson.” He cooed as he raised him out of the cradle. “Your mama said that she would name all her sons after me but she has not so I will call you Carlson Junior when it is just the two of us.”
“I never said such thing!” Y/n chuckled.
“All of her sons!” Carlson stated with his eyebrow raised, his eyes never leaving his nephew.
“You can name your own son after you.” Y/n quipped back, pointing to his wife, her friends large bump.
“He thinks it is going to be a girl.” Larissa smiles softly as she rubs her hand over her stomach. “May I hold him?”
“Of course you can, he is your nephew after all.”
It took nearly five minutes to get Carlson to hand over Archie to Larissa.
Two weeks later Steve and Sam stood leaning against the wall their eyes bouncing between Carlson and Bucky as the two men paced back and forth in the hallway as if they were caged animals, their fists clenching as Larissa’s screams bounced off the walls. Both stopping every time everything went quiet, only to resume their pacing when they heard her screaming again.
Y/n made sure that she was in the room with her friend as she gave birth, Larissa felt guilty that she couldn’t do the same for Y/n but the maester advised that as she was heavily pregnant herself that she shouldn’t be in the room. After only a couple of hours of labour Larissa’s body sagged in Y/n’s arms as the room filled with the cries of her babe.
Carlson was right. They had a baby girl.
“We have named her Abby, after my mother.” He told Bucky who held his niece in his arms.
“Luckily she takes after her mama and not you.” Bucky chuckled, gasping when his friend throws a cloth at him. “Not when I am holding my niece!”
Y/n and Larissa cooed as they watched a two week old Archie hold a one day old Abby’s hand. Whilst Bucky and Carlson held onto each other with tears running down their faces.
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The kingdom thrived even more now that Y/n sat on the throne, the townspeople were more happier than they had ever been before, they no longer feared telling their Queen and King their worries and problems knowing that they would happily put their worries to rest and help with said problems - not like the late king who always dismissed them before they got the chance to open their mouths.
Trading had never been more prosperous. In the short time Y/n had been on the throne she had made more alliances than her own father despite him reigning for twenty one years.
It became a regular occurrence for the people to see their Queen and King walking around the market that they would always chuckle when those not from Astoria saw them walking around freely and not completely surrounded by guards.
When word reached the people that Y/n was with child they all cheered and sang their prayers, and when they heard that the babe was born they got their best clothes ready and waited for the day to come for when they would get to see the new prince of Astoria.
What shocked them the most was when Y/n announced that a building was going to be built and for it to be a school for the children so that they could be educated. It was unheard of. And at first they worried that they wouldn’t be able to afford to send their children to this school, when she shocked them again by telling them that it was going to be free.
Another change made in the kingdom was her army, it seemed to grow with each passing month with more and more boys wanting to fight for her and their home. One day during her pregnancy Y/n sat in the throne room when a knight come up and told her that a bunch of women wanted a word.
The bunch - eight - women came inside, all with a look on their faces that she had seen on her own face when she looked in the mirror. Determination.
“How can I help you today?”
“My Queen, we are here to ask you if you will allow us to fight in your army.” One spoke.
“Really?”
“Yes my Grace, we have always admired your strength and courage-“
“There is no need for flattery.”
“Not flattery my Grace, just the truth.”
Giving a nod of gratitude she eyed the women up and down. “Why do you want to be apart of my army?”
“We wish to fight for our Queen, our home.”
“Meet me on the training ground tomorrow morning.”
“R-really?”
“It will be nice to see women on the training ground.” She smiled, which only grew more when they beamed up at her.
The next morning Y/n met the women who were so eager to prove themselves to their Warrior Queen, due to her being pregnant she didn’t go into the ring but was happy to talk them through the correct stances, where to hit and how to protect themselves. Leaning over the railing with Bucky and Carlson on either side of her, they winced before cheering as one of the women flipped her opponent over her shoulder and onto the ground - the man laid sprawled out on the ground trying to figure out what had just happened.
It was an easy decision to make the eight women soldiers.
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Dropping her sword she climbs over the fence and begins running towards the castle, Carlson and the servant right on her heels - everyone was quick to move out of the way for their queen.
Rushing towards the family room where the servant had told her that Bucky was waiting, the guards opened the doors as she panted as she looked around the room.
“W-what is wrong?”
“Say it again, go on, you can do it.” Bucky waved her over as he sat in front of their son, a huge smile on his face as he looked at his wife.
“M-m-mama.”
“Did-did he…”.
“He said it before then I got the servant to get you.” Bucky beamed at his son, chuckling as the one year old kicked his legs out.
“You told her that it was urgent, my heart nearly stopped!”
“It is urgent, Lukas just said his first word!”
Three years after Archie was born the maester confirmed what Bucky had expected that Y/n was pregnant again, he kept telling her that her breast was getting bigger - he was way too happy with himself that he was right. Eight months later Bucky and Carlson were back to pacing back and forth as Y/n gave birth, Larissa came out to let Bucky know that everything was okay and that he could go in, he rushed inside to see the love of his life smiling at their new babe. This time Bucky named their second son, naming him after his uncle.
As Y/n looked around the room she saw her five year old Archie and his best friend, cousin, Abby playing with their toys, a three year old Carl - Carlson’s and Larissa’s son - trying to get away from a two year old Nicholas - Annalise and Liam’s son - Larissa rocking hers and Carlson’s second son, nine month old named Eric, in her arms. She felt happy, felt at peace, sticking her tongue out to Archie making him giggle.
Bucky stood up once Lukas crawled away to follow Carl and Nicholas, and wrapped his arms around Y/n, his hand going to her stomach. “When can we tell them?”
“Not yet.”
Two months ago she found out that she would be back on the birthing bed, screaming and withering in pain, cursing all those around her and begging for it to all end - I mean… she found out that she was expecting their third child.
The rest of their family began trickling into the room one by one, her mum going straight for Lukas as she placed him on her hip she gave her oldest daughter a knowing smile when she sees Bucky’s hand placement.
As the royal wheelhouses pulled up to the royal garden where Y/n had taken Bucky to show him the past king and queens of Astoria, it seemed as if the whole kingdom had come out to witness the unveil of the statues of their queen and king, giving Steve and Sam a nod they removed the large cloth revealing the large statue of her and Bucky, she smiled up at him noticing his eyes were already on her.
“I told you that I would make sure they capture your beauty.”
“Beauty… what?”
“Beauty, sweetheart.”
Chuckling, he took her hand in his and raised their hands to his lips. “Thank you, my love.”
As she laid in bed that night, her heart and head light with the days events. She watched as the flame of the candle flicker in quick succession, blowing it out and turning on her side a content sigh fell from her lips, she snuggled further into Bucky’s warm embrace. The chants from her townspeople making her smile as she laid in the arms of the man she loved more than anything, knowing that her two sons were fast asleep across the hall, placing her hand over Bucky’s as it rested on stomach where their third babe was growing, she fell asleep happily.
“Long live the Queen and King!”
<Previous
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Tags: @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @sidraaaaaaaaa | @mrsnikstan | @barnesxstan | @hi172826 | @alexdarkacademia | @supraveng | @baw1066
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Text
part i, autonomy in your coherence | c.g
With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.
The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.
You’ve forgotten your feelings for Carl, because he didn’t feel the same.
You just wished you did a better job at it.
WARNINGS: mentions of death, suicide ideation
this is a continuation of watch you burn away and i recommend you read that, first! this is also part of a series, so here is the masterlist if you need it!
(cross-posted on ao3!)
Your father once told you he had a patient that died from heartbreak.
“Your heart can’t really break, though, right?” You’d said. A doctor for a father and a laboratory technician for a mother made you more than aware of things, seeing through the myths and pretty white lies of figures like Santa and the tooth fairy.
(They had gone through with it anyway, because although their child knew, it was a gateway to normality in such a busy home.)
Your father scratched his chin, unsure how to respond. “My patient had died from a broken heart, though the process wasn’t as simple as it’s term name. A broken heart — the nonliteral meaning — can be the cause and the domino toppling to many things that could lead to death.”
“Like what?” You’d said with little admission into the conversation, having been flicking through a novel you’d picked up a while back (which featured a one eyed pirate and his partner who’d ended up dying in the end — not that you knew, yet, at least.)
“I don’t know, er,” Your father swirled his coffee lightly, gesturing wildly with his free hand, “Mental health issues, for one. Erratic actions, depression, a lost sense of self. Obsession.”
“Huh,” You muttered, looking up at your father for the first time. “A lost sense of self? Really?”
“What is your father teaching you?” Your mother said, stepping into the kitchen with a questioning expression. The conversation ended there, without so much as a thought after.
You wish you pried your father for further answers. What you’d give to get the workaholic of a man to dump his duo psychology medical major thoughts unto you with little care.
The knowledge would be gold in your time of need, when pulling and pushing distance further between you was like venturing through a field of thorns.
(Perhaps you just missed your parents. But that couldn’t be it, right? They’d died and you had lived, their blood on your hands and the gun in your fingers, their glazed over eyes and your own that nearly matched, cold and willing without a drop of emotion.)
But you’d gotten through it for him— without him. Without anyone, quietly harboring scratches and bleeding from the field with little effort.
If someone asked, you would tell them with full and honest confidence that you harboured no more attachments. You were a naive teenager, running through your feet and over yourself for something that was just a crush.
Crushes are — in their whole singularity and purpose —  temporary.
They are brief, and momentarily something that causes ripples and waves in your thoughts, just the slightest mention or faint sight makes you detour down a road of sickly sweet dreams and fantasies.
He was first love (like? You didn’t love him, no, it was a crush and it was something for the unattainable and the inappropriate — in which with full truth, he was.) so you poured the honey glazed remembrances and rose coloured lenses over your memories, because he was a first love, and you know that those were cracks in the heart, growing vines and constricting the part that was him — the part that’d always, always be there, without a doubt.
(However much you didn’t want it to be.)
The leaves and the venomous flowers that sprout in decaying grooves come with age, and you are older now.
You bear fresh scars that litter your entire being and wear newly buried bones of people who were once not just that, the dirt still sitting in the crevices of your nails, and you seem to forget their voices with each passing day.
With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.
The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.
More and more, the faces look like reference art rather than a taken from life picture, which was all telling them to sit still and watching their eyes crinkle at the edges when you show them the result, voices echoing and asking if they could have it.
Everyday, as it has become a peevish habit like biting your nails or obsessively reminding yourself your stove is off, you draw pictures of everyone.
If you are close enough with them, you ask the subject to sit and model for you, analyzing every breath and laugh they take when you crack a joke or engage them in meaningless conversation just to see how the light hits their brows when they raise, the shadows pooling in their aging lines.
Everyday, you wish and hope and even fucking pray that their portraits continue to be something of anxious routine, rather than trying to dump their image out of your head and onto paper so you can see their faces one more time.
His image seems to change with each moment he sits in for you, once a face with two piercing blues, then a patch and eyes that looked at the dusty wooden floor, and later, someone who looks at you straight, something that told you he was a survivor, who bore his battles proudly, the scar on the right of his face sitting ruggedly and bewitchingly.
You draw him, exactly the way you see him, and when you show him the picture, he laughs, and says “You made me look too pretty,” and you shake your head, “It’s exactly the way I see you.”
You do her, too, upon request. When she sits, you draw her almost like it was professional, drawing the curvature of her face with exact precision, intense shading, marking the features she holds. The dip in her nose, the straight of her hair.
(You often forget who you’re drawing in these moments, and when you step away from the canvas you’re hit with whiplash. It’s subconscious, the way you do these things to please him, wanting to see so clearly how his face spreads delicately with delight.)
It takes a little while for you to convince Ron. When you first propose the drawing, he gives you a confused face, before walking off to do shooting practice. He’s gotten better with the gun over the years, and doesn’t respond when you tell him you know why.
(His mother didn’t come out of it alive, and his brother didn’t come back without harm. The younger boy was alive, but would grow up with only his brother by his side and one less limb to account for.)
The second time, he makes a snide comment, albeit with no bite, about how ‘you must be a horrible artist, to ask me of all people to model for you.’
The third time, you’ve dragged him to the small office you makeshifted for the drawings in the garage. He studies every slit of paper you’ve ripped out of your book, the unfinished sketches or yet-to-be painted canvases piling up against the walls. Complete works sit proudly on your wall, displayed for the world to see.
His hands hover over the paints sitting on your desk, charcoal, dirt, sticks, paintbrushes, handmade dyes, wallpaper cut-outs.
“Why?” Ron says curiously.
“‘Why?’ what?” You echo, fiddling with a fork you grabbed from the kitchen, splaying out a thick lather combination of beet dye and cement onto your finger to check the consistency.
“Why do you draw these portraits? I get the others because,” He says, leaving the words “because they’re dead” hanging in the air between you two in mutual and regretful acknowledgement, “But you draw these everyday. You drag Carl and Enid off, or just sit on the benches and draw Maggie and Glenn knee-deep in the dirt.”
You sigh a dreadful breath, wiping the rest of the beet-cement mix onto the page with the pad of your fore-finger. “We’ll forget them one day.”
He looks at you, unblinking. The dead, the gone, and the soon to be long forgotten only existed in your memories, in your words, and when the time came that the world had moved on and stopped, they would cease. Their whole memory relied on the living, nothing about them able to reach and grasp life on their own. Memory was all that was left, and it was all you could do to wash away regret.
“And the rest?”
You bite your tongue hesitantly, your movements rigid, “You see their portraits. Everyday they get less and less coherent. When — when time comes , these drawings will be the only thing getting me by.” You whispered.
The ball had dropped. Coping and grief in it’s big and ugly form, preying on your conscious hungrily, taking shelter in your largest worries. Claws sunken in your flesh, the monster was a thing that felt like it would never go away, because it would loom right alongside death itself, watching and waiting for the moment they’d deemed someones time to have been enough.
(It would never be enough. Enough meant they’d pop in from next door and ask to borrow something, enough meant they’d swipe dirt across your face to make you angry — enough meant they would come in everyday and sit for their portrait once more.)
A creaking on the floorboard caught your attention, eyes watching as Ron’s feet walk to the corner of the room, before hopping onto the wooden seat with little effort.
“I’m not going. I never will. But — do it anyway. I’d… like to see how I look on paper.” He said cheekily, picking up a thin pencil off your desk and handing it out to you.
So you did. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes snowballed into hours in the dim lighting of the garage, asking the blond to turn his body, stretch his head and make different expressions, fulfilling and destroying the little worm of worry sitting in your head.
When you’re done with the charcoal, turning it around for Ron to see and to inspect, he asks, “What about you?”
“And what about me?” You say. His questions never make sense without further discussion, but the boy always has to wait for you to pry and ask him to elaborate.
“You don’t have any drawings of yourself. You’re the artist, the photographer, the one who makes these things that will stay longer than the memories and the words — so what about you?”
It’s rare that Ron delves into his emotions and the things he really means, but when he does, it’s something that stays, for a long while.
“I,” You didn’t have an answer for it. You weren’t one to do a self-portrait, it not being the same as having someone to sit and take from. “I don’t want to.” You finished simply, an ice cold realization coming to reality in you.
“Why?” He says the same words as before, but the words hold a heavy weight.
“I don’t know.”
You knew.
Maybe one day, you’d wished that you’d wash away like seafoam on the beach. You wouldn’t leave a single portrait behind of you, and the memories and the words were left mum behind his lips, because you knew how he got in a loss.
Quiet and unfeeling, it was so selfish of you that you’d counted on how he got in that state to leave you behind, neglecting you like the fruits of your memories you’d never get to bear.
Ron’s gaze bore into you like he knew exactly what you were thinking, telepathically taking in every thought you’d conveyed at your dispense.
“You should.” Is all he says, before stepping off the wooden stool and out the door.
What was wrong with you? You feel so… entirely foolish. Obsolete. Embarrassing.
You walked past the remnants of those who were gone everyday, obsessively creating canvas over canvas of them and the only thing you could think was that you’d wish to position yourself beside them?
This world was catching up to you, and fast, but you’d just have to run faster than it could.
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walkerwords · 4 years ago
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“To Feel Better” Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader
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IMAGE CREDIT: AMC
Request from Anonymous: for your requests i saw a prompt where it was person A finding excuses to hold person B's hand such as my hands are cold will you warm them for me I think that would be cute with Daryl. 
Word Count: 1859
Warning: Swearing
Song I Wrote To: “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift
Note: I love fluff requests yall! This one is set during the time our survivors are looking for shelter after the fall of the farm!
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When the farm fell, nobody knew what they were doing. 
Herschel and Rick were doing their best to keep some sort of order within the group, but they could only do so much once the cold set in and the food became more scarce. Then after losing some people during the invasion of Walkers and Shane’s attempt at a coup, pieces felt as if they were being broken off.
Andrea had been someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. You had been with her and her sister, Amy, since the beginning. Andrea had protected you both, but in the end it had been Amy who befell the fate of the new world. Her death still followed you around and you knew that it had haunted her sister for a while as well. If anything, it had made Andrea harder and more resilient. Still, she kept her eyes on you and you knew that if it came down to it, you would protect her with everything you had. That remained true until you saw her go down on the farm and never saw her reemerge from the horde as Daryl pulled you on to the back of his bike and took off down the dirt path. 
Now it was only a matter of time before someone else was lost. With the larger herds moving North all the time, the group had to keep moving and there wasn’t any time to rest for more than a couple of days. With Lori being pregnant, it was definitely causing more issues. You were exhausted, Shane was dead, Rick was keeping something a secret, and Carl was growing up before your eyes. It was too much, too fast. 
Winter was coming and going, the weather never staying the same in the South. You had been used to that your entire life, but without constant shelter or warm meals, every time the temperature dropped even a fraction, stress levels skyrocketed within the group and it was starting to get to you. Daryl, someone you had grown closer to since the farm, had tried to keep your spirits up the best he could, but there was only so much he could do. 
It was late one night when you found yourself alone on watch. Rick and Maggie had found a house that was far enough from the road with working locks and insulated enough to offer warmth. Nobody dared light a fire in case the Living decided to poke around, but it was better than sleeping in another field with one eye open. 
You were rubbing a stray bullet between your fingers as you saw on a bench just in front of the house when Daryl approached, the gun that housed said bullet was in your other hand. “I got watch,” he said, taking a seat next to you. 
“I’m fine,” you said, keeping your eyes on the dark wall of trees before you. 
“Ya need sleep,” he argued, but you remained still.
“I said, I’m fine,” you repeated. 
“Ya, that’s what ya always say,” he said. It was silent then as he sat next to you. Daryl knew when not to push you and this was definitely one of those times. If there was one person who could sit in complete silence and say more with just their body language it was you and Daryl appreciated that after hours of constant noise from the rest of the group. 
It was after a while that Daryl finally realized what you kept playing with in your hand. He recognized it as a gun that was once shoved in his face when he had first arrived at the quarry with Merle. “That Walsh’s gun?” he asked, nodding his head toward the pistol. You nodded, turning over the weapon in your hand. He wasn’t sure where you had found it, but he could tell that you had cleaned it up. “You thinkin’ about him?” 
“I don’t know what happened,” you finally said. “He was so strong…”
“Even the most level-headed people can get corrupted by this world,” Daryl said and you thought it was one of the most profound things he had ever said. Then again, you figured that Daryl was incredibly bright and he just didn’t let people see that side of him. 
“I thought he’d be one of the last people standing,” you admitted. 
“Didn’t realize you were that close,” Daryl said with a frown. 
“He saved my life,” you said with a shrug, remembering back to all the times Shane had pulled a Walker off of you when you were distracted. “He always looked out for Amy, too. Look, he wasn’t a great man, I know that, but I owed him enough. I was hoping he’d make it at least a few more years.”
“I get that,” Daryl said with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. You had noticed that it was getting longer, especially on the sides. 
“Sorry,” you said, “I know you hated him.” 
“I didn’t trust him,” Daryl clarified. 
“Fair enough.” 
You sat back into silence then. Your ears were scanning for the familiar groans of the Dead or the subtle footprints of the Living, but so far, nothing had approached the newest nest for the group. You were definitely missing the RV on the more treacherous nights.
Daryl was quiet before he looked over at you. You could see his face out of the corner of your eye, but you tried your hardest to ignore him. You knew Daryl had been looking out for you for a while. Or rather he had been watching you and you knew he was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take any extra steps towards him. No matter how much you wanted it. 
“You know,” you began, breaking the silence, “I wanted to study old bones and all that.” 
“So, an anthropologist?” Daryl said. You looked over at him with shock on your face and he clocked it immediately. “What, I watched the History Channel,” he defended, causing you to laugh. 
“Yeah, Daryl, just like that,” you said. “I wanted to know how humanity began, but I’m only seeing what we’ve become,” you said as you stared at a Walker corpse that Maggie had downed a few hours before. 
Your hand began to twitch then, a nervous habit you had developed as a teenager. It always exposed everything that you were too afraid to say. There was something about the way your body always knew what was wrong before your mind did. You figured it was something to do with the survival instincts that had kicked in the night they dropped fire on Atlanta and other major cities. 
Daryl noticed your hand instantly. “You’re doing it again,” he said quietly. 
“Nervous habit,” you said, clenching your fist, trying to quiet your nerves. “It used to drive my mom crazy.”
“You don’t talk about her anymore,” Daryl noticed. Turning to look at him, you furrowed your brow. “It’s just, ya used to talk about her at the quarry with Amy and Andrea a lot,” he said with a shrug. 
“Guess I haven’t been in the mood to be sentimental lately,” you said. 
“I get that,” he said as he continued to watch the slight tremor in your palms. “My mom died before all this,” he said  and you were surprised to hear him say anything about his family. Besides Merle, Daryl never mentioned anything about his past. At least, not to you. 
“I’m sorry,” you said. 
“I’m just glad ya know, that she didn’t have to see all this shit,” he said and you knew what he was talking about. In an odd way, anyone who had died before the outbreak lucked out. Nobody deserved to see the new horrors of the world and nobody deserved to be fighting tooth and nail just to survive. Lifting your head to the sky, you watched as a single star shot across the darkness before it disappeared again in the plethora of stars and scattered moonlight. 
“Odd, isn’t it?” you asked. 
“What?” 
“That because the world is dark, we finally see the stars. Living in cities always hid them,” you said with a sigh. 
“Yeah,” Daryl said, following your gaze. 
“ ‘Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars’,” you quoted with ease.
“Tolkien, huh?” Daryl said, recognizing the words. 
“Look at you,” you teased and Daryl rolled his eyes. 
“I read,” Daryl defended and you raised your hands in surrender. The movement then sparked something in Daryl as he caught your hand in his and held it gently. Your hands stilled from the warmth and firm grip of the archer’s hands. You were sitting in silence as he began to rub his thumbs along the nerves and muscles in your hands. 
Daryl was silent as he caressed your hand, taking his time to soothe your anxieties away. “You are gonna be okay,” he whispered, his focus on his task. 
“How do you know?” you whispered back. 
“Because ya ain’t one to let this world beat ya,” Daryl said simply. You took a minute for that to sink in and you knew that he was right. If anything, you were not going to give up so that the dying world took you with it. You knew that death was inevitable, but you also knew that you had come too far already to start to give up now. “Do you know the story of the man who fought off three bears and lived?” Daryl asked suddenly. 
Looking over at him, you raised your brows. “What?” Daryl nodded. 
“Yeah, the crazy son of a bitch jumped into a bear enclosure at a zoo to test if he could survive the worst possible thing,” he said. “Fought them all off with his hands and a tree branch. Nobody thought a person could do that and he did. Only came out of there with a broken hand.” 
“Is there a moral to this story?” you asked. Daryl turned your hand over in his, tracing the lines on your palm. 
“Don’t try to fight bears unless you’re high on pretty hardcore shit because he had to have been, right?” Daryl said easily and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your chest. Daryl gave you a smile then and you realized what he was doing. 
“Was that story even true?” you asked. 
“Nah,” Daryl said. “Does it matter, though?” 
“Not at all,” you whispered, wrapping your other hand around the joined ones between you. Moving closer to him, you leaned into him, feeling his body heat. “Thanks.” 
Daryl gently lifted your hand to his face and pressed a kiss to the back of it in a very rare act of tenderness. His lips lingered on your skin for just a second before relaxing further into you.
“Anytime,” he murmured as you sank into comfortable silence and watched for the enemy that was sure enough to break through your newfound bubble of peace. However, you knew that when that happened, the man by your side would be the one to jump into the fray and wrestle with a few bears of his own. 
TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @moonstuffsteve​ @lucillethings​ @stark-dreams​ 
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teddy06writes · 4 years ago
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nonono I need more ANGST part 3 for out of his grasp/out of their grasp were reader comes back as a ghost like Ghostbur but remembers bad memories so she doesn’t remember Dream or George
Out of Their Grasp
{THIS IS THE NEW UPDATED VERSION BECAUSE APARENTLY THE FIRST VERSION WASN”T ANGSTY ENOUGH}
{real talk though I thought maybe I could change this to be more angsty cause I didn’t think the ghost thing would work}
requested by this anon: “hey hey I was wondering if you could do dream x George x reader fantasy/royal au (bc I just read "for his hand" and I love it so much!!) where reader and dream go to battle but only dream returns from it. and he has to tell George that reader died. the more angst the better😝💅”
and also this one: “will there be a part 2 of For His Hand? It’s so good, i loved it!”
{Technically you don’t have to read part one but I would recommend it because this one takes place in the same universe}
Dream x George x reader
trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, major character death, aGnSt
premise: war breaks out near the borders of the SMP, you and Dream are sent ahead of the royal party to the front lines in an attempt to stop any further battles until a peace can be reached when disaster strikes, leaving your partners to deal with the repercussions.
{dude I’m like manically laughing right now}
(y/n/n)- your nickname
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“It was just skirmishes, here and there for the last few weeks,” Sam gestured to a few spots near the northern boarder on the map spread out across the table, before pointing to another in the center of the rest, “But then, yesterday there was a huge attack on the villages, and our military bases in this valley.”
You glanced around the room, from person to person, gauging there reactions.
George had visibly stiffened in his seat, and behind him Dream seemed equal tense.
“Have we taken any measures to fight back?” Sapnap asked impatiently.
“How bad are the damages?” George asked, ignoring him.
Eret looked down at the report they’d been given, “There seems to have been more pillaging than raiding, they were breaking into peoples house, causing general destruction and looting, when our forces attempted to stop them they began to fight. All in all 30 of ours were killed and there was an estimated 10,000 in damages.”
George frowned, as Niki spoke up, “We should pay the people reparation's and help them with any reconstruction that needs to be done.”
Many people nodded, but next to you Sapnap was still unhappy, “Are we doing anything about the invaders? We cannot just sit here and allow them to attack the people!”
“Pushing, pushing.” You muttered.
The king looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Callahan, the scribe, “Attempt to negotiate a peace. I don’t want anymore bloodshed to curse this land.”
The man beside you groaned, and you were quick to elbow him in the side and Sam ended the meeting and everyone began to file out of the room, hissing, “I don’t know how they do things where you’re from but that is no way to behave in an advisory meeting. Next time you pull that shit you won’t be allowed back to one.”
-You had taken the new coming warrior on as a sort of apprentice after he’d first arrived at the palace, and it was clear the change of pace wasn’t something he was ready for-
“They can’t just stand by! The King is a fool if he thinks a peace can be reached like this!”
You glared at him. “The King is no fool.”
“You only say that out of obligation.” Sapnap fired back.
You recoiled, burned, before crossing your arms and starting out of the room, “You may be a trained mercenary but you haven’t the faintest idea as to how to hold yourself among this crowd. It will be the death of you.”
He followed you back toward your office, listening as you continued, “King George is a good and just man, to say that he is a fool is to say the sun is square. He has wiped this kingdom clean of many years of bloodshed.
“The Kings advisors, and cabinet are kind, respectable people, you must remember to hold your tongue  unless spoken too, and never say anything brash as you have done now, lest you make a greater fool of yourself.”
He huffed, “If I must stay silent in those meetings than how can I get my point across? Sending a messege to the enemy through force may be the only way!”
“Now you sound like Tommy, just as foolhardy and headstrong as the child,” You pushed the door to your office open, “I’m sure that Technoblade agrees with you, though he knows better than to speak freely.”
“If he agrees with me than perhaps it’s the right move.”
You turned to look at him quizzically, finally saying, “A wise king does not seek out war, no matter what his knights advise.”
Sapnap turned, “Then the lot of them are fools.”
“I have told you once to never disrespect the king, I suggest you don’t do it again. This land has seen it’s share of unjust rulers, be thankful you have not come here under worse authority.”
~~ That night, when the palace grew quiet, and the sky dark, you found yourself back in Dream’s quarters, an overtired, overstressed George having wedged himself between you two and refusing to move.
You sighed as Dream ran a hand through your sleeping partners hair, “He’s anxious.”
“I mean, can you blame him? War may be on the horizon.” Dream murmured.
“I meant even now- in the time of sleep. I think Sapnap is just adding fuel to the fire.”
Dream sighed, “If he has another outburst like that-”
“He’ll be cast out,” You nodded, “I know. He just needs to be willing to learn the way things go around here. In time he will learn.”
Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, “Fucking hotshot.”
“I think you’d like him, if you were able to spend more time with him.” You smiled.
“Well someone had to go snatch him up as an apprentice!”
“Well it was him or Ranboo, and Ranboo is far too- forgetful, for this sort of thing. I’d’ve had Tubbo but he and Tommy are a package set an you took ‘em.”
“What about Purpled?”
You rolled your eyes, “He started an apprenticeship with Punz ages ago.”
“SHHhhhhhhh, ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” George muttered, burying his face in your shoulder.
In the darkness of the chamber you could barley make out Dream’s eyes sparkling as he took your hand, “Course love, course.”
~~
As the weeks continued the damages on the northern boarder only seemed to grow, the new invaders claiming three of the villages there own.
There was yet another large attack on the town that had been damaged the first time, this time a direct threat left etched on the walls, ‘You have made my people suffer, and now yours shall feel the same’
“Militia, both local and our own soldiers have taken it upon themselves to fight back, almost a hundred lived lost to each side.” The silence in the room grew deafening as Sam finished reading his report, not even Sapnap daring to speak.
“Your Majesty?” Bad hazarded, “What is our next course of action?”
George frowned, glancing around the room, “Peace is still the priority. Maybe- maybe we call a ceasefire, I could meet with there ruler-”
“No,” Dream interrupted, drawing all eyes to him, “It would be too dangerous. How do we know they can be trusted to lay down there arms?”
George shot him a look, “How do we know that we haven’t done anything to provoke them? Whatever we have done wrong we need to fix it. If we can work something out then people will be spared on both sides.”
“Shall we arrange for a ceasefire?” Eret asked.
The King nodded as Wilbur spoke up, “We could set up a meeting place, on neutral ground, possibly similar to the holy lands, so there would be no worry of a security breech.”
Dream seemed to relax at this, and then eyes were turned to you and Sapnap, representing the royal guard, “We can, but even so we should stay vigilant, perhaps send a group ahead with the runners to see too it.” You said, noting the gratitude on Dream’s face, as well as the slight annoyance on George’s.
“Well I see no one better to attend to the King’s safety than you,” Bad said, “You shall go with the party, and Technoblade with you, Sapnap can remain here to take over your day to day duties.”
The man in question quietly shot you a pleading look, at which you sighed, “With all do respect I think Sapnap could be better severing to the crown if he joined the running party.”
Bad glanced around to the others, looking for any objections before shrugging, “We can find someone else to do the work. So that’ll be you, Technoblade, Sapnap, and we can send the usual scouting party, and Sam shall go with again.”
~~
You sighed, tracing an absent pattern on George’s side, listening to Dream’s ramble about how dangerous the idea that had been decided on at the meeting was.
“Finding peace is the priority, you can’t can’t change that.” George mumbled.
“That doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous!” Dream protested.
“It’ll be fine, We’ll have a perimeter set up with guards and everything. I’ll make sure none of them can even get near him with such intent.” You yawned.
The blonde huffed, “That just makes me more worried.”
“Don’t you trust me?” Your hand blindly sought his, “I’m going to do everything in my power to keep the ceasefire from being broken.”
“I know.” Was the only quiet response you received.
The next morning found you suiting up and heading out to the stables to tack up your horse. Techno was already down there, idly chatting with Phil as he readied Carl for the journey, and out in the courtyard you could see Sapnap talking to two men.
“Good morning, (y/n)!” Phil chirped, waving your direction.
“Morning Phil.” You moved down the row, reaching out and letting Beckerson nuzzle into your palm.
After getting your horse cared for and saddled, the rest of the party had headed out of the stables as your partners entered.
George took your hand, “Don’t start any more trouble.”
“Sounds like your talking to Dream not me.” You chuckled.
“Hey!” Dream protested.
“I’m not wrong!” You teased.
George rolled his eyes, quickly pulling you in for a kiss, “Make things good for me to be out there.”
“Stay out of trouble.” Dream advised, pulling you away from George to kiss you himself.
“You underestimate me.” You smirked, grabbing Bekerson’s reigns.
Dream rolled his eyes as you started to lead the horse out of the stable, calling, “And stay safe!”
“I’ll see you in five days!” You chuckled, heading out of the stables and quickly mounting your horse, kicking at his sides to catch up with the others.
~~ The last few days had been spent anxiously waiting, and now the journey to the norther board was coming to a close.
Dream rode alongside the carriage, eyes following the strange trail of smoke on the horizon; something was wrong, he could feel it.
The quiet, almost calm of the morning was slowly being cut through by a growing noise, and then finally shattered as one of the runners sent ahead to signal their arrival came crashing through the trees looking panicked.
“What’s going on?” Punz asked.
“They attacked! They broke the ceasefire!”
Dream’s brain surged with panic as he turned to where George and his advisors were starting to climb out of the carriage asking why they had stopped, “Turn around! It isn’t safe here! Go! Punz! Tommy! Ponk! Get them out of here!”
Before he could even stop to see if they were following his orders he was rushing forward down the road, urging Spirit to go faster as the road widened into the village.
Dream was met with nothing but chaos, the royal insignia’s on the tents set up in the field were aflame, and the clashing of swords filled his ears as the royal army and the few commoners who could fought back against the pillaging people.
“About time you showed up!” Sapnap yelled from halfway across the field, “We could use some fucking help!”
“No shit!” Dream yelled back, dismounting and unsheathing his sword.
Almost immediately another person came barley towards him, throwing him into combat.
He cut his way across the field, taking down people here and there, still searching the carnage for you.
Eventually he made it to where Sapnap had just disarmed and knocked out another opponent, “Where are they?”
His eyes danced around the wreckage, “Could be anywhere, saw ‘em trying to get the townspeople out of the way.”
Dream cursed, running off the direction of the village, calling you name.
The fighting continued, the addition of the extra royal guardsmen helping turn the tide of the battle, though Dream still couldn’t locate you on the battle field.
The invaders, or what was left of there battalion began to retreat, but still Dream could find no sign of you, the now all too quiet valley erupted into noise as another skirmish broke out.
Taking off at a sprint he made it up the hill to find you locked in combat with another warrior.
You panted, throwing up you shield to block another strike from his axe before shoving forward and swing your sword at his spear wielding hand.
He wasn’t excepting this, and the spear clatter out of his hand, the shock on his face giving you enough momentum to keep pushing forward, throwing attack after attack at the man as he edged backward.
You had just managed to shove him to the ground when a cry broke your attention.
“(Y/N)!!”
You turned to see Dream, smiling, words starting to form on your lips as a spear suddenly drove through your chest.
“NO!!!!!” Dream shrieked, charging forward and quickly slashing at the mans throat before turning to where you had fallen in the grass.
“T-that one was your fault.” You mumbled as he did his best to pull your shaking body into his arms, “You-ou had t-to go distract-ing me.”
“I know,” tears flooded his eyes, “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get help.”
You did your best to smile through your fear, “What would G-George say if he saw you here cuddling m- m- me without him? Huh?”
“(Y/n)....”
“Bad time for a joke I guess,” you shaky voice was disrupted by a painful cough wracking your body, “Never real-really planned on being r-r-ran through with a spear this morning.”
“It’s gonna be okay! It’s- it’s gonna be okay!” Dream desperately pushed your hair out of your face, head whipping around to where the royal soldiers were beginning to regroup, “WE- I need a medic! Please! We need a medic!”
It was the first time you’d ever heard him sound so distraught, gently you reached up to his face, “Dream- Clay, leave it alone, they won’t be able to- to do anythi-ng.”
You coughed again as he turned back to you, “Don’t say that! Don’t say that!”
“It’s just my time d-d-darling,” You gasped at the pain brought by him trying to pull you closer, “You- you gotta let go.”
“NO! You’re not gonna die! You’re not gonna leave! I won’t let you!”
“I d- don’t have your permission to d-die?” The spots floating in your vision began to grow larger, blocking out spot of his face, and the sky.
“No! You don’t! You’re not leaving! I’m not letting you!” He said desperately.
“You’ve- g-got too...”
He glared down through the valley, barking out, “I said I need a medic! Someone! Please! They need help!”
There were people hurrying up the hill now, not that you could see, as Dream continued to yell.
The spots began to grow even bigger, merging together until darkness fully overtook you and you slipped from there grasp, “I’m sorry...”
Dream tore his gaze from the approaching medical team, looking down at your now limp body, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-”
“You can’t leave! You- your not allowed to leave us! You- you can’t- I- I didn’t give you permission to die!”
He blubbered, still trying to pull you closer to him, as if he held you tighter you wouldn’t have slipped away.
“You can’t go! I didn’t say you could go! You can’t leave! You can’t.....”
Then people were pulling you away from him, and Sapnap was pulling him up, and leading him away.
~~
“Your highness, news of the attack on the boarder has returned.”
George stopped his anxious pacing a Wilbur led in a scarily calm Technoblade and a visibly shaking Dream into the room, Sapnap still with a firm grip on his shoulder.
“What happened? Where’s (y/n)?”
Dream started to shake more at the mention of your name, and Techno stepped forward, “(y/n)- died in combat two days ago.”
George stayed silent, so he continued, “They died a hero’s death defending our kingdom.”
The king waved them away, “Out, please.”
Wilbur nodded, and quickly Sapnap and Technoblade followed him out of the room, leaving Dream to slowly move toward George, pulling him into his arms, tears coming from both men.
“It was my fault. They were fighting- an- and I distracted them.”
“You- you what?” George croaked.
“I wasn’t thinking,” He said quietly, ducking his head as George pulled away, “Th- they died in my arms George!”
“Wh- what have you done?”
Dream looked at him in shock, “What do you mean?”
“Tell me what happened.” It was a command, said in a way Dream had never heard directed at him.
“I got there- there was fighting, when the fighting died down I still couldn’t find them- then I heard another fight- on the ridge, I got up there, and It seemed like they had won, I yelled there name- and-” He broke off, barley muffling a sob.
“You all but killed them yourself.” George muttered.
“I didn’t- th- I- George.” Dream grappled for words.
“You killed them.”
“I didn’t! George I know it’s my fault, but-”
The King just shook his head, turning and silently stalking out of the room.
~~
The castle seemed to stay in mourning for weeks, the kings council having to take over as the king stayed shut up in his chambers, refusing to talk to anyone.
The King’s Knight became more and more vocal during meetings, providing insight on how to get back at the enemy, amplifying Sapnap’s voice.
Then, as plans were being finalized, Dream was met by another figure as he sat in front of your grave.
“You think this will make up for what you’ve done?” Georges voice was horse, rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in days, though still laced with the same venom as when he’d found out.
Dream nodded, remaining quiet as he traced the hilt of his blade.
“Tomorrow then?”
Again Dream nodded, looking down at the copy of the note that had been sent to the enemy:
‘Holy water cannot stop me now, a thousand armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown, see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down’
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phoenixblack89 · 4 years ago
Text
Fera Ingris
Chapter 1 - Dealing with Dixons
It's finally here people! Eekkk! It'll be up on A03 later when I turned my laptop on. Been teasing this for soooo long.
My wonderful tag list:
@lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @autocon23 @browneyes528 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel
"Yer take care of yourself lass, don't worry about us."
Phoenix sighed at the man on the other end of the phone, twisting the silver rosary he had given her for her birthday many years ago. The world had changed dramatically for them all since that day. Their history bloody and violent and God sent. 
"Are ye listening lass?" 
"Of course, I'm listening! It's you who isn't! I'm on the way to Atlanta now!  As in I'm already in Georgia! I can't let you three rot in there when we've got things to do!" 
"Lass, we can take care of ourselves. Connor wants to know if ye got our package?" He asked, she stifled a laugh at the noise of the pair fighting over the phone she could hear. 
"Yea I got it. Haven't opened it yet though" she replied, the bike's engine growing colder under her. "What's in it? You guys shouldn't be sending anything. You're lucky Duffy and Dolly got it t' me before I left Boston."
"I know lass but ye need t' keep those safe fer us." She smiled hearing her other friend's voice, clearly having won the battle for the phone. "Look things are getting bad here. You're safe now but things are gettin' weird, we'd never forgive ourselves if anything happened to ye. I love ye too much" 
"I love ya too, you idiot! I'm gonna get you all out. We have a mission! I've got a bag full of your stuff right here on my bike, your clothes, coats, guns." 
"Aye. What?! No? Yea. Let me say goodbye a' least?" Phoenix knitted her eyebrows, hearing the man talking to someone else. A prison guard maybe. "Lass we have t' go. I'll call ye back when things settle aye?" 
"Yea. Just tell me where you are at least?" 
"Sorry lass I got to -" 
The line suddenly died on her and she frowned, shaking the phone and seeing no signal. She ran her hand through her short dark red hair and started the bike up, speeding quickly towards Atlanta and her boys. 
                                                      **********
The sun shined through the thin, flimsy material of the tent, shining directly down into the sleeping pairs eyes. The short, spiky, dyed haired young woman groaned and threw her arm over her face. She sat slowly and yawned. She'd had that dream for weeks, wondering what had happened to her friends. 
Had the prison been overrun by the monsters that lurked in every corner? Were they dead? Or worse... Had they become one of those things? 
She'd slept after her watch shift, which surprised the girl as she had been having a bad bout of insomnia for the last two weeks. Ever since... 
No, she thought don't think about it. 
She glanced at the young boy laid next to her and smiled. When Carl asked if he could sleep in her tent with her the night before she had been hesitant (mainly because Lori rarely let him out her sight) but Lori had said it was okay and she was not going to fight against the long-haired beauty. 
Lori had also said it would be good for her, get her to trust others again. And honestly the boy reminded her so much of her old friend with his boundless energy and smiles. 
A gentle tap to the roof of her tent set her senses on guard. She grabbed her long calf length boots and her Bowie knife and slowly pulled the zipper up. A sigh released from her throat as she squinted up at the crossbow welding man in front of her. 
"We goin' hunting or what?" He snarled at her, obviously still mad at the woman from their disagreement yesterday. It wasn't her fault. He had spooked her... 
Merle approached the dark red haired girl sat by the quarry lake silently. Something was up with her and he was determined to find out what. The sight in front of him worried him slightly, she was nervous and kept flicking her head around. Had she been bit? He was thankful the darkness of the twilight hid him somewhat as he watched. She hissed as she pulled the bloody bandage off her left hand, flexing it and hissing through her teeth. The soft sound of something hitting the surface of the water, made his heart thump. It wasn't raining so why did it sound like it was? 
He came right behind her and watched as she rubbed at the wound, it oozed blood and yellowish white pus as she gritted her teeth. Infection was setting in. Daryl called out his name from camp and the girl spun and noticed him there. 
"Ya shouldn't be down 'ere by herself girlie." He whispered, kneeling and gently taking her hand, examining the injury intently. "Now wha' we gonna do abou' yer hand? Yer can't take what I offered yer."
"Burn it again. Only thing we can do. Not like we can wander to nearest pharmacy, throw my hand on the counter and say fix it, is it?" She hissed as he prodded a sensitive spot, Merle chuckled slightly and helped her to her feet. 
"Nah but China is headed t' the city tomorrow. I'ma go too. I know my meds and I'll get yer what yer need t' be right as rain again, Lil sis." He said with a smirk as they climbed back up the slope to the camp. Daryl and Shane spun round at their footsteps and Merle smirked. Officer ass-hat was on one about something. 
"Phoenix! Where have you been?! We told you to stay in camp until you could fight!" Shane whisper-yelled in her face. 
"Easy there officer. Girl just needed a second by 'erself... Gets a bit loud round here." Merle defended her, placing himself between the well musculared man and the girl who seemed to shrink into herself. "She's fine. I was a watchin' her." 
"I bet you were Dixon." Lori said under her breath. Phoenix glanced at the woman with eyes narrowed. The majority of the camp thought the Dixons were rude, brash and shouldn't be there. Only Phoenix, Glenn, Andrea and Shane knew of the incident that had cemented the brothers in the camp's good graces, well in their good graces. 
Phoenix sat down at the small fire infront of her tent and sighed, her ears picking up on raised voices coming from the Dixon tent. It sounded like Daryl was majorly pissed about something and Merle was defending himself.
Isn't any of your business she thought ignore them.
She gazed deep into the fire, the heat warming her frozen limbs nicely. She hated the cold, not that it was cold but she felt like she was sat on a box of ice in just her underwear. She had experienced working in much colder situations, hell the Irish rain was colder than this. The sweat on her brow made her eyes ache and she closed them, leaning her head back.
"Ahh!" She shrieked, jumping up and thrusting her knife backwards towards whatever had grabbed her shoulder. A deep grunt sounded and her hand was twisted, causing her to release her grip of the blade's handle. 
"Ain't no need t' try t' gut me girl." Daryl growled, his gruff voice instantly calming the nervous woman. She sighed and held her hand out, Daryl raised his chin and regarded whether to return her knife or not for a moment. He relented at her raised eyebrow and dropped it into her left hand. She hissed in pain and clutched at her wrist. Quicker than she could pull away, he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist yanking her closer and pulling the bandage off her injury. He could see how raised and angry it look, grimacing slightly as it oozed at his poking. Tears of pain welled in her eyes as she grit her teeth, he grumbled under his breath and glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. Merle nodded and raised the half empty bottle of whiskey in a salute. "This why Merle is leavin' right?"
"Yea, told him he didn't have to." She whispered as he released her arm, her skin tingled at the lose of contact. Daryl ran his hand over his neck and bit his lip. 
"Ye need meds. Ain't happy a' him, riskin' his neck fer someone like ya." He groaned under his breath. Her mood soured and she shoved him away. He stumbled for a second and threw her a glare. "What the hell is ya problem girl?"
"Someone like me Dixon? Huh? What exactly do you mean by that?!" She folded her arms across her chest. Daryl's eyes flickered downwards for a second to how her arms pushed her breasts higher and more together. 
God she's gorgeous when she's mad he thought, his cock twitching in his jeans. He ducked his head and scoffed.
"Ya know what I mean, can't even hunt without hurtin' yaself." 
"Go away Dixon." She turned on her heel and stormed off up the bank, and climbing up the RV ladder to take watch. Daryl sighed and slopped off back to his brother, who was laughing, finding the whole scene hilarious.
                                                    **********
Phoenix nodded up at the hunter and pulled on her boots and grabbed her bow. She followed Daryl over to his tent where his brother was preparing to go into the city. Merle gave her a once over as she approached, his eyes narrowed at the bow across her back and the stains on the bandage around her left hand.
"Mornin' Firebug." He drawled as the pair stopped. She nodded and heaved her backpack tighter to her shoulder beside her quiver of arrows. "Y'all gonna be alright t' hunt wit' tha' hand?" He questioned, giving his brother a glance. Daryl gave Merle a hooded lidded look and nodded his head up. "Don't wanna waste my time if ya gonna drop down dead on poor Darlena 'ere."
The girl smirked and shoved the older man's shoulder playfully before flipping him off, striding towards the treeline.
"You watch 'er baby brother. She's one of us now."
"Hmm" Daryl said, glancing at the girl as she waited just under the cover of the trees for him. Merle gave a low chuckle and Daryl glared at him. "Stop."
"Come on baby brother, don't be like that." Merle stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Ya been pining after 'er for weeks now. Just give her some of the ol' Dixon charm. If ya even have any!" He barked out a laugh as his brother scoffed and walked away, joining the girl and disappearing into the woods.
                                                    **********
A low whistle drew her attention and she glanced in the direction of it. Daryl raised his hand and pointed off towards the copse of trees in front of him. Keeping her body low to the ground and her steps feather light she approached him. Her eyes darting out at the small herd of deer in front of them, they'd finally found them after two days in the woods. She raised her hand and pointed to the smaller of the two bucks. Daryl nodded and gestured he was going to try and get around them so if they darted he could take a shot. She nodded and crouched lower, using the shrubs to hide her. Daryl wandered away silently as she waited for his signal. 
A loud shriek pierced the air and the deer scattered. Daryl swore and took off after the smaller buck, Phoenix following him at a distance. 
                                                    **********
They stopped by a small creak, Phoenix dipping her hand into it and running it over the back of her neck. She felt like she was on fire, yet icy cold at the same time. The infection in her hand had well and truly set in, she needed to be careful or she'd drop and not get back up.
"We go a littl' further then stop fer the night." Daryl mummered beside her, wiping his soaked red rag over the back of his neck and down his face. She nodded, eyes staring off into the stream. He watched her carefully, the way her hair at the back of her neck was slightly curly, the way her ears twitched as if she was a rabbit or a deer hearing a predator. He found her beautiful and mysterious. A riddle he wanted to solve. He couldn't help his attraction to her physique either, the woman was beautiful. Not perhaps every man's wet dream but he found her incredibly sexy. 
He admired how she wore gothic, all black, metal studded and chained clothes despite the heat, her short dyed dark red hair, the regrowth hinting at sandy blond, spiked with sweat these days that cried out to be tugged as she was kissed, the slight thicker set of her thighs, buttocks and stomach, he much preferred a girl with a bit of weight than the skinny, almost starved look some of the women up at camp had; the ink he could spy under her clothes was calling out for him to discover exactly how many tattoos she had and why she'd chosen them. He had seen a glimpse of the tattoos on her by accident when he'd stumbled upon her at the lake having a quick swim and also when he'd found her in the woods. She kept herself well covered normally, she said she got sunburn easily. He could spy an interesting shaped scar across her collar bone when she wore lower cut shirts, not that she did very much now. 
Not since he'd saved her in the woods a week or so ago. 
He loved how well they worked as hunters together. She knew enough to track decently and was surprisingly quiet on her feet, despite the heavy metal covered, thick platform soled boots she chose to wear. They're only issue seemed to be that they butted heads constantly when not hunting, both taking verbal swipes at each other whenever they tried to have a conversation, sometimes she'd slap him on the arm; Merle finding it hilarious and entertaining to join in. Damn Merle, was his fault she got hurt in the first place. If he hadn't egged her on about her lack of hunting abilities, she wouldn't have been out in the woods by herself in the first place. 
He sighed quietly as she raised to her feet and moved away, eyes scanning the forest floor for the deer's tracks, finding them and leading the way.
                                                    **********
Daryl grunted as he lowered himself down beside the girl, who was turning a stick through the weak fire in front of her. The night was silent except for the light wind. He silently settled down against the log and took out of one of the squirrel for the pair to eat. Daryl made quick work of gutting and skinning the small rodent and shoved it on a stick to slowly roast over the flames. The girl's eyes drifting upwards towards the stars. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her. 
"We gotta head back in the morning if we don't find the deer." She nodded and pulled her arms around her own shoulders, shivering slightly. "Come 'ere." He said, holding his arms open for her to settle beside him. Daryl usually hated touching others and being touched was a rarity for him but he'd made the exception for her while they hunted. It was simply for survival he told himself. If she got too cold she'd get sick and then the group wouldn't have a hunter when he and Merle left. And he'd feel that guilt all his life, the kids needed fresh meat so he was doing something for the group. Nothing to do with his stupid little crush. Nope, he was doing it for the group. She shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Her head found his chest and she sighed, feeling the heat from Daryl seep into her cold bones. Daryl frowned, she felt hot yet she was shivering like crazy. 
That damn hand. 
He pulled her closer and ran his hand cautiously up and down her arm. She flinched at first then relaxed into his embrace. 
"Ya alright?" 
"Yea. Just cold." She whispered, her warm breath causing goose bumps across Daryl's chest. She blinked slowly, feeling sleep call her. The smell of Daryl's warm body lulling her, she had missed falling asleep in a man's arms. It was familiar and comforting. She felt safe, warm and protected despite the dead walking. 
                                                    **********
The sharp whistle drew her attention to the left. She nocked her arrow and let it fly, hitting the deer in the hind leg causing it to run. The two hunters had caught up to the deer earlier and were driving it towards camp. Daryl was in the rear urging it forward, while she made it turn in the right direction when it veered too far to the left. 
She spotted the steep banks that marked the outer edges of the quarry and smiled. 
Almost home.
Taking another shot to steer the deer towards the lower bank she smiled. The group would eat well tonight. She stumbled and shot at the hind leg again. The deer in one last desperate burst of energy slipped out of her sight but it was very close to camp. Wouldn't take long for them to catch up.
                                                          **********
Phoenix paused and braced her arms on her knees, Daryl whistled in question, asking if she was alright as he walked by her. She held up a hand in reply. He grumbled and walked away. She could hear yells and the sounds of stomping as she neared the rocks that hid camp. 
Daryl was knelt on the ground and looking over the deer. 
"Think we could cut around the chewed up part?" He said looking up at Dale and the others. Phoenix's eyes narrowed as she spotted a new face amongst the men. The group of men didn't seem to notice her as she joined Daryl at his side, subconsciously seeking his protection from the stranger. Fear made her heart pound loudly in her ears as Daryl stood. 
"I wouldn't risk that" Shane said quietly, Daryl sighed dejectedly frustrated he hadn't been able to feed the group more. 
"That's a damn shame. We got us some squirrels... About a dozen or so. That'll have to do."
"Oh my god!" Amy gasped as the head of the walker suddenly began to gnash its teeth. 
"Come on people! What the hell?!" Daryl exclaims as he releases a bolt through its undead head. "It's gotta be the brain! Don't y'all know nothin'?!" 
Phoenix smirked, shouldering her bow as she followed Daryl back into camp. She gave a glance over her shoulder at the group behind her, noticing the exchange of looks between them. 
"MERLE! MERLE! Get ya ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl calls out, Phoenix swivelling her head to see where the elder Dixon was.
"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane called, his hands on his hips as the group avoids Daryl and Phoenix's eyes. 
"About what?" Daryl queries, pausing his march around the camp. Phoenix, instinctively, taking Daryl's back with a bad feeling in her gut. 
"DD... Hear him out." She whispers as Daryl narrows his eyes in suspicion. Daryl glances at her briefly before turning back to Shane. 
"About Merle... There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta." The former officer sighs, his hand reaching out as if to pacify the man. Phoenix grits her teeth and reaches for the gun hidden behind her shirt slowly, sensing this was not going to end well. 
"He dead? "
"We're not sure..."
OH shitttt Phoenix thought, slipping the brace of squirrels and her bow off her shoulder. 
"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl stated, his voice raising in anger as his face grew more dark. 
"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." The newcomer said quietly, stepping into the discussion. 
"Who are you?!" Daryl asked, confused slightly as to what this stranger had to do with his brother's disappearance. 
"Rick Grimes." 
"Rick Grimes?!" Daryl spat aggressively, his face a mask to the hurt and anger underneath. "You got summit ya want t' tell me?" 
"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I... I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal... He's still there." 
"What the fuck!?" Phoenix snarled as her eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Her stance widening, readying herself for a fight. Daryl began pacing, his eyes meeting hers, she gave a barely there nod in agreement with him. 
"Hold on... Let me process this. You're sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there!?" Daryl growled as he paced, the woman edging towards Shane, out of Daryl's path to Rick. 
"Yeah." 
Daryl growls loudly as he throws his rope of squirrels at Rick, who dodges them easily. 
"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells as Daryl pulls his knife. Shane dodges Phoenix and gets behind Daryl, quickly putting him into a chokehold. Phoenix steps up behind Shane, her own knife slipping into her grip, her gun giving a low click as she removed the safety and pointed it at the curls of Shane's hair. 
"Okay... Okay..." Shane whispers, lowering Daryl and himself to the ground. 
"You'd best let me go!" Daryl gasped, struggling to free himself. 
"Do as he says!" Phoenix snarls, her Beretta a mere breath away from Shane's skull. 
"Chokehold's illegal!" Daryl grunts, thrashing his legs. Phoenix lowers her gun to Shane's shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if needed. 
"You can file a complaint!" Shane laughs weakly. "Come on man. We'll keep this up all day."
"Like shite we will. I'll shoot ya first mate!" The red head growled as Rick kneels in front of Daryl and Shane, his head tilting to the side. 
"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?" 
Daryl grunts, ceasing to struggle, slapping his hand out to the side of him; silently signalling to the woman to stand down as Shane hums in question. 
"Mmm...Yeah." Daryl replies. 
Shane releases him quickly and steps away as the younger man raises himself to his feet. Shane's eyebrows raised as Phoenix pulls herself to her full height, him and Rick giving her a worried glance. She smirks and makes a show of putting her knife and gun back into their places. Rick turns to Daryl and rubs the back of his neck slowly. 
"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work or play well with others."
"It’s not Rick's fault!" T-Dog interrupted, the large man stepping closer. "I had the key... I dropped it!"
Phoenix scoffed, glaring at the man. 
"Ya couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl questioned, his anger disappearing and being replaced by worry and anxiety. 
"Well, I dropped it in a drain."
"If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it don't." Daryl snapped as he shook his head, pacing in a small circle. Phoenix joining him at his side and glaring daggers at T-Dog. 
"Maybe this will... Look, I chained the door to the roof... So geeks couldn't get at him... With a big ass chain and padlock. Its got to count for something!"
"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is... So that I can go get him." Daryl choked out, his voice cracking with tears as Phoenix gently placed a hand on his shoulder. 
"So we can go get him." She declared, daring anyone to argue with her. Daryl gave her a tiny up nod at her and squeezed her hand on his shoulder lightly. 
"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori spoke up from the door of the RV, she looked to Rick quietly awaiting his reply. 
"I'm going back." He stated quietly. Lori sighed and walked into the RV. 
                                                   *********
Phoenix pulled on her long studded leather jacket and secured her axe into the specialised holster on her back. Daryl stood beside her silently, chewing his lip. The Brit have a slight wobble as she got lighter headed and Daryl's mind came to only one solution to a major issue between the pair.  
"Hey." 
"Hey DD. You ready to go get Merle?" She asked, bending to tie her boot laces.  "Yea... Ya not comin' though."  
"What!? You can't be serious DD! You need me with you so those picks don't leave you there as well!" She snapped back as he turned to walk away. 
"Daryl!" 
"Nah. Ya hurt. Too many geeks in the city fer ya axe. Stay here. Keep safe." He argued back, she growled in her throat and pushed by him. His hand wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip.  
"Dixon..."  
"Listen... Stay here. I don't... Just... Fuck." He hissed. "Merle will be pissed. Real pissed." 
"He'll of been baked in the sun ya mean! He is gonna be stir fried from the heat! He's gonna need someone to calm him down. He ain't gonna hurt me DD... He wouldn't hurt me." She sighed, her head beginning to throb. "I have to Daryl. I owe him one!"  
"Nah ya don't!" 
"Yes I fucking do!"  
"No. Ya stayin' here!" 
 "I'm going!" She yelled, hands on her hips.  
"No!" 
"Yes!" 
"NO! And that's final!"  
The pair continued to argue for several more minutes until Shane interrupted them, the pair literally chest to chest and needing to be pulled apart before fists began to fly. Phoenix huffed and stormed away into the woods as the man agreed with Daryl. Daryl glared after the fiery woman before stomping off to the truck, missing her turning back towards the camp and leaning against a tree with her arm crossed against her chest.    
Phoenix glanced at the truck Daryl stood in. She wanted to wish them luck but knew Daryl was still angry with her. He looked in her direction and nodded his head, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. She sighed and walked towards him, he knelt down at the open shutter and tilted his head towards her.  "Keep safe in the city DD." She whispered, gazing upwards into the man's sky blue eyes. He nodded and chewed his thumb. "Bring Merle back. Wouldn't be the same round here without that dickhead." 
"Yea. Be quieter fer sure." He chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. Phoenix reached up and pulled at Daryl, forcing him to brace himself against the ledge as she hugged him with one arm against her chest. Daryl slowly relaxed enough to enjoy her closeness and leaned his head on top of hers.  
"Please come back." She whispered into his ear as he pulled back slightly, his eyes flitting around camp to make sure no one was witnessing the exchange.  He nodded lightly into her neck, his arm coming to loosely hold her waist. He breathed in her soothing subtle scent and closed his eyes to help him memorise thee moment, just in case. He cleared his throat and pulled away, feeling a certain part of his anatomy starting to stir. She smiled weakly at him with teary eyes and walked away.  
"Hey!"  
Phoenix turned slightly, the breeze making her hair wave over her face softly. Thee sun shining behind her making her hair look like flames licking across the crown of her head. The bruises and cuts across her face hidden in the shadows of her face and hair.  So beautiful Daryl thought, smiling slightly. His mind locking the sight into his memory as he stood and waved to her.  
"Stay safe!" He called to her, she nodded and waved back. Her cheeks tinting pink at his loud show of concern as she smiled softly.   
NEXT
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fandomficsnstuff · 4 years ago
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Hope
Daryl x Reader
(Author’s note: the reader is Maggie’s sister)
Warnings: slight angst and fluff and a lot of cussing, tho I think that’s it.
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You pulled your knees tighter against your chest, feeling slightly cold in the dark container, but at least now your eyes had finally adapted to the dark, so you could at least see better, even if it weren’t much. All you could think about was if he was even still alive, but of course he was, this was Daryl, he had survived far worse, a fact you knew even back on your farm when they all showed up. You should probably be figuring out how to get out of here, like everyone else, but all you could think about was him, the way he could scoff and hide his amusement when you finally got under his skin in a playful way. Daryl was hard to get through, especially at the farm, when that little girl was missing, but the way he looked for her, even though she wasn't his own, it just told you that he was a good man, he had just been through a hell of a lot of things.
“He’s alright you know” you flinched at her voice, looking up at your sister Maggie, nodding and looking down again. You had been so far in your own thoughts that you hadn’t heard her approach or sit down next to you, something that was dangerous, because what if it had been out there, and she had been a walker? But you shook that thought away, deciding to respond instead of just letting her attempt at comforting you slide “I know… I just-” you sighed, giving up trying to explain something she already knew in full detail. Maggie, Beth and your dad were about the only ones who knew, the only ones who knew how you felt about him. Carol had an idea, causing her to tease you often, but there was never any malice in her teasing, and she would never overstep the limit with it either. Rick had a faint idea as well, but hadn’t really addressed it besides one time when he asked if you and Daryl had anything, which you denied of course. But still you couldn’t help but worry, what if something had happened to him out there? What if he had died at the prison? What if he never made it out? Your mind only dug further and further into the endless possibilities until Maggie gently shook your shoulder, making you snap your head to look at her.
“He’s alright. He’s Daryl, ain’t nothing gonna get to him” she had always been able to know what you felt, just by looking at you. You simply shook your head “and if he’s not? What if he’s out there, and I’m stuck in here, unable to help him? What if Beth is out there, scared and alone and- and-... and I’m stuck in this fucking container because these people just got a stick up their ass? What if Daryl got fucking bit? Or what if he ran into these people and they- they killed him?? What if all of this fucking bullshit that they’re making us go through is for nothing and we’ll just be stuck here twiddlding our fucking thumbs and waiting to be fucking killed like one of those damn cows back at Daddy’s farm?” you remembered to keep a low voice, whispering harshly, but Maggie just laughed anyway “what? What’s so funny, Mag?” she tried to control her laughter, a few of the other people in the container looking funny at her, Glenn just smiled fondly at her however, but when she finally quieted down she looked back at you “I’ve never heard you cuss like that, Daryl must’ve really gotten to ya” she finally stated once she had been able to catch her breath, making me stare at her for a second, the both of us just looking at each other before giggling together.
“Hey! What’s so damn funny?” Abraham snapped, making us stop, look at him, before laughing even more, just pissing off Abraham, but he let it go. After a while Glenn came over, you and Maggie both having tears in your eyes for how hard you had laughed, even though you tried to suppress it “what’s up?” he kneeled down in front of Maggie, and once you had both calmed down you looked at Glenn while Maggie still giggled “I just cussed so much that Daddy would turn over in his grave” you said proudly, making Glenn freeze before shaking his head as he laughed as well, and Sasha, who had heard you, let out an amused scoff at the three of you giggling.
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It had been hours since Maggie had lightened your mood, but now it had dampened again, you were still sitting with Maggie, your head on her shoulder as her head rested on top of yours, your knees were starting to hurt from being bent so much for so long, but you couldn’t care less, and apparently neither could Maggie. 
Both of you flinched as you heard the door being opened, the both of you standing up, fighting against how weak your knees felt from finally being stretched out like they had ached to be hours ago. You got ready but as the doors swung open fully you squinted, your eyes hurting from the sudden light and how intrusive it was. You frowned when you saw who entered and when the door finally closed everyone except the ones who had just joined your merry little band of misfits flew towards them, hugging them separately. “We thought you were dead” you whispered as you hugged Michonne, who gladly hugged you back, and then you came to Daryl, and seeing his face, the bruises, you grew a mix of relief and anger. Relief that all he got out there were a few bruises, and anger because walkers don’t punch, people did this. As you studied Daryl he blushed and looked away, he hugged everyone, except you that is, and you took a step back, letting everyone else greet him and get acquainted as Rick let you know that these people are ‘screwing with the wrong people’.
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You were currently using the necklace Beth had given you, back before everything started, to sharpen a piece of wood, turning it into a makeshift dagger, looking back at Daryl to see him already looking at you. You didn’t quite know who looked away first, but both of your heads turned at the speed of light probably. Maggie threw a small smile at you and you couldn’t help but smile back, she knew you felt like an with Daryl sometimes, with how tough he was to get through, and how you actually had gotten through to him, at the prison, but then everything happened, and now he treated you like a stranger again. Once Rick told you to get ready, you got up, you had used some rusty nails and your belt, you had wrapped the belt around your dominant hand, the nails going through the belt and out to whoever you punched, and your makeshift wooden dagger were in your other hand. You were ready to fight when suddenly something above you opened, dropping something down and making you disoriented. As they took Daryl, Rick, Bob and Glenn you tried to fight, but were way too disoriented, so was Maggie and Sasha, Michonne and Carl, everyone was way besides themselves, so all you could do, once again, was sit in the dark corner, now worrying even more so than before.
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You exhaled heavily as you saw Carol, about to run to her when Daryl got there first. The way he ran to her, hugged her, it made a cold feeling settle in your bones and you couldn’t help but look away, even as Rick and Carl found Judith and embraced her, and seeing Tyreese alive and alright as well. You couldn’t get that cold, numb feeling out of you, seeing Daryl wrapping his arms around Carol, the way you wanted to be held by him, it made you feel something far more uncomfortable than just worrying about him or him treating you like a stranger. You awkwardly rubbed your arm as Carol came over and hugged you, you loved Carol like family, you really did, but comparing his reaction to when he saw you again, and when he saw her, you felt awkward with her hugging you, like the ex girlfriend who met the new girlfriend but haven't quite gotten over the heartbreak. Carol felt that and pulled away, frowning at you “sorry, I’m just so tired” you mumbled, making her nod, believing your excuse, for now anyways.
As you began to walk together, a family back together again, you couldn’t help but sort of glare at Carol and Daryl, looking down a few times in thought. When he had treated you like a stranger, you at least had a chance, but now it seemed like that had died, that the hope that you could at least get him in your life other than a member of a group was gone. You missed the look Maggie gave you, a worried, sympathetic look, which Glenn shared, after all he was Maggie’s husband, and she told him everything, even your crush on Daryl, though she hadn’t told him without your permission of course.
But still, you had been hoping so bad that maybe he would see you, maybe he would one day look at you differently, but he wouldn’t, not when he had someone like Carol, she was brave and strong and clever and not afraid to do everything for the group, so why would he want someone like you if he had her?
Too deep in your thought to notice, Daryl kept looking back at you, glancing every so often while he talked with Carol, and all he saw was your head bowed down, how you didn’t even talk to Maggie even though she tried, and the sad look you had on your face, like you weren’t sure what you were fighting for anymore. Carol encouraged him to speak to you, but he kept mumbling and shrugging, saying something along the lines of ‘I dunno, don’t wanna make it worse’ which Carol knew was bullshit. The both of you too wrapped up in everything else to notice that the both of you cared for each other the same way.
@thewalkingdead-imagines​
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foryouthegays · 4 years ago
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techno liveblog w timestamps lets go for ‘a new home (dream SMP)’ stream
good laugh times: 00:13:50, 00:14:55, 1:38:45, ik it doesnt look like a lot but like u should watch the stream anyway bc philzas there and his laugh is amazing and they just go so well together
times techno calls phil his friend: 00:6:00 00:37:00, 00:45:17, 0:1:09:30, 01:11:15, 01:26:35, 01:50:05, 2:35:00
FSDJKFAF;LS HE KEPT THE MUTED INTRO IN JHKADFLS (ends at 00:1:25)
i like how, when faced with Leaving Youtube, techno would choose to be an author. i want a book by techno. reblog this if u want a book by techno (with an audiobook by him as well) /hj. 00:1:33
i love how he says ehhhhhh so much lskjhdfas (abt 2 mins in) 
who the FUCK just remembers that the word fortuitous exists wtf 00:5:17
00:7:45 PHILZA TIME PHILZA TIME LETS GO
00:8:55 tommy time :/
0:14:10 rANBOO JUST WALKS IN, LOOKS AROUN ,AND LEA VE SIM CRYING 
i love how much philza laughs at technos jokes bc pretty much everything he says IS a joke he just says it in such a serious voice that p much everyone else is like,,,yeah,,,,yup,,,,and phil just knows when hes joking and his laugh is so good with technos voice. sbi? whos that? i only know philza and technoblade
00:19:30 ghostbur joins! this is my first time hearin ghostbur btw
00:19:40 haha string axe technos so bad at crafting what a fool /j
00:21:07 ghostbur: “Even I remember how to make a fishing rod!” ghostbur u just MURDERED technoblade oh my god im gonna scream hgjdfksla i love ghostbur so much
00:23:55: GHOSTBUR NO!! DON’T DIE YOU’LL BECOME A DOUBLE GHOST!!!! -technoblade 2020
00:24:55 technoblade neva lies -guys he almost did the technoblade neva dies ahh!!!!!
i havent heard anyone talk about this but techno has a dedicated roleplay voice. like listen to him talk to tommy at 00:25:08. his voice gets more even, he uses names a lot more often (seriously, listen to his theseus speech. he says tommy so often, its incredible.), and his voice gets,,,,deeper? not deeper but smoother, in a way, and he repeats what he says for emphasis instead of humor. and his voice is louder, and he seems more assertive. 
00:27:30 philza: where we goin, by the way? techno: to our- to my new home. 
techno cmon let phil live w u wed get so much more content cmonn
00:28:50 the fact that he calls the manhunt theme “dream music” makes me laugh so hard. and then his version of it,,,,,m love he (also he sings it here and at  01:14:20)
00:35:10 why is ranboo so cryptic im-
why does he just casually know the word sentry wh at i hate him 00:39:45
this is the worst sentence (structurally) ive ever heard techno say im gonna cry 00:49:33 ‘im too busy thinkin of new ideas to sleep so i could actually execute them’ and tubbos *oh?* after is just hdsfgkjlka
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LKSJDHFJK 00:51:49
00:54:30
techno: thats one of dreams powers, he can just stop the rain
tubbo, quietly: like jesus!
i love them sm dsfhkjla they kept going but i jus gdfhjksa jesus has op
techno @ being the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans: haha funnie!!
techno @ having fun w religious stuff: i wILL BE CANCELLED NO-
00:58:10 “hey if ur [ghostbur]  a ghost, do instant damage potions heal you now?” “...no,, they hurt me still :(” DSIULZKJHFSLKFJH 
01:04:00 his brother named the cow bob im- aww 
also he has a fanart wall again!!!
01:09:30 “phil, you’re the only friend i have left in this world.” aWWWWW HE GAVE HIM THE COMPASS 
“dont smoke, it’s a joke” -technoblade 01:14:15
ROLEPLAY SPEECH VOICE IS BACK AT 1:16:10 “they pillage my base for everything i’m worth, they use me for the revolution, but oooOOOoo i took a pickaxe with his consent? oOOOooOo i’m a thief!”
holy shit 01:17:15 “you know what, phil? for you, the world, alright? it’s fine.” oH MY GOD HHHHGHG (context, right before they were arguing bc phil took some blocks from his base and techno thought that when he said phil could take anything he meant from the chests)
the COMIDY of that villager coming in and sleeping while techno was readin donos at 01:22:05 RIGHT AFTER phil freaked out abt inturruptin his dono readin im SFDHKJLA:
techno talkin bout the winstreak and how he wont be able to live up to that sort of playin at 01:22:30ish is super important and ill transcribe it tomorrow, but if u can id highly rec watchin it. 
01:24:20 “[readin dono] what’s your favorite movie? uh, the princess bride is pretty good” techno ily that movie rocks also he said it so fast like hes ashamed of it noo
techno says no to canon ranboo son btw! 01:25:30
01:25:55 “i wasnt in that story, therefore it doesnt matter” all of technoblr be like 
01:37:49 is great lemmie transcribe
“how have you still not gotten a second monitor?? holy shit.”
“let me tell you something. and im only telling you this because i know that so many people in the chat are gonna be furious. so i recently realized- i think the second monitor can just be any ol’ monitor, right? you literally just plug it in, and its set up? well i mean you have to turn on some settings, but like, thats it, or something?”
“yeah,,,,, uh techno you fuckin destroyed my chat, by the way, oh my god, [earlier techno told his viewers to twitch prime philza] there has been like 40 primes just flying through”
“yeahhh twitch prime!!! twitch prime philza yeahh!!! so anyways the other day, i like, i looked to my left, and realized that my old monitor has been like, five feet away from where i sit and stream for the last three years?”
“oh my god...”
“so i- i literally do not have to leave my room to set up a second monitor and i havent. and i’m still usin my laptop for this stream.
“is this gonna be one of those situations where you like, you have a thing, you just refuse to do the thing?”
“listen, my desk is-
“yOU STILL HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE!!!”
“AHHHH I HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE! I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY MCC COIN! DUDE I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY ONE MILLION SUBSCRIBER PLAQUE! ITS STILL THERE RIGHT BEHIND ME! ITs sTILL IN THE BOX! i never made a video on it....”
“bruhhhhh [philza laughs] thats FREE VIEWS what are you doing??”
“ill open it at 8 mil :/.”
“you could LITERALLY make a video of you just like, throwing it off a wall, and then thumbing up, like doing a thumbs up, and then that would be it. 10 seconds. ten seconds. thumb and elbow in shot. [laughs]”
techno is such a disaster i love him
01:34:18 the way techno says “tommy, that statement has NEVER been true” i dont like sayin i simp for block men but GOD sometimes his voice is nicer than usual hhhgn
“man i sure wish tommyinnit was in this stream” -nobody ever (just after previous timestamp)
01:40:15 is fuckin hilarious and im actually crying oh my god techno just says things and says them well with a completely straight face how does he do it
i cannot WAIT until theres a president w the last/first name andy so we can say president andy and think abt technoblade
IM CRIASDNGUSFHD 01:44:38 PHILZA LOOK OUT LOOK OUT PHILZA  LSKJDAFJASD;LKF
i love when techno talks abt his vids. like u can tell he puts a lot of thought into the vids (esp these ones) and like at 01:47:00 he talks abt the “I DIDNT PUT DEAPTH STRIDER ON THOSE BOOTS, FUNDY!” and how its just that creepin realization that you were doomed from the start and how he made the armor, he isnt intimidated by the netherite bc he didnt enchant it all the way and only he knows that,,, and i just,,,hgg he
he reveals that hes writin the next arc at 01:48:00: “oh, speakin of arcs, chat, i’m writing the next arc. so, you know. hope nothin bad happens in two weeks, chat!” IM SO EXCITED like he clearly has his character fleshed out and is SO good at writing and retellin history im so so excited to see where he takes it AHHHH and also taht means he might stream more bc he might make his character more important (keep in mind this is the guy who wrote self insert hypixel fanfics. he has no shame in puttin himself first and i respect him so much for it) 
01:51:20 “they’re tryin to get a second customer but they’re riskin their first” is lowkey a good line
has anyone else noticed that techno says wise a lot? like at 01:55:10 he literally says “wise dragon armor” as a joke but like i think he says wise so much BECAUSE of skyblock like hjkfdsla
01:57:30 techno plea se eat 
ok 1:58:45 is hilarious and all but at the end of his ramble he says “come back, i miss you” and lowkey im crying 
techno needs to stop knowing his audience more than we know ourselves im hsfkjda 02:05:25 “the chat’s spammin ‘eat technoblade, eat!’ like they’re not gonna start, like, theyre not gonna get super sad if i ended the stream right now, like theyre not gonna all cry ‘i miss technoblade *sniffs* why- whyd he leave to eat food, why did he listen to our advice noooo’”
02:14:50 NEW VIDEO POGGGG CARL THE HORSE POGGGGGG  NOT A STREAM HIGHLIGHT POGGGGG
02:17:40 “i could start a potato farm out here to show how much ive changed” techno last time u made a potato farm u started an entire war that lasted a year that does NOT say calm and retired to me lskgdfjagsldj
02:23:00 why does techno just reference greek mythology so much. makin me scared for his arc. 
also he talks abt smp earth a lot in this stream i love it so much
i also just. love?? how much sbi respect tommy like they bully him but when talkin bout him they just have so much respect for how much work he puts into youtube and i just,,,,hgnn they r friends 
02:33:13 sbi streamer house lets go cmon
02:34:15 “i think if i streamed every day i could keep up” on one hand YE S  but on the ohter oh god techno no we have to keep up tho
hearing techno say “violence isnt the answer” is so scary  02:35:40
02:37:30 technosneeze 
hiS BROTHER SENT HIM 46 DISCORD MESSAGES SFKDJLFLKASF 2:49:25 i love his end screen so much hes just sadness,,,,retirement,,,t,echnoblade,,,the government is going to fall on its own due to lack of organization and ideals,,,,,,subscribe,,,,,sadness,,,,,also 2:50:45 is making me laugh so hard its just sad music and technos like??? whys phil in my house drinking milk????? 
overall, fantastic stream, if ya want some chill techno philza content i highly recommend. 
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dreamylyfe-x · 4 years ago
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heyo i've been watching the eps in real time, but i only got around to watching the gallavich hall of shame today and i loved all of it except the beg which i was really hoping you could help me with cuz i've been extremely upset by it (literally crying oops). so, why would the writers possibly use the phrasing "piece of my heart" and act like what ian felt for his other bfs is in any way comparable to mickey, only on a much lesser level? cuz we've seen it play out that that's just false [pt 1]
Hey! Sorry about not getting to this right away -- real life has been extreme today -- but I wanted to make sure to reply to this ASAP because it clearly bothered you a bunch. This ask has several parts and I’m going to pull the questions from the others so that I can best answer. And I may sound a little glib because I know this really, really bothered you, so I want to make it clear: I completely respect your feelings about this... but I don’t think the show was thinking about how people who love Gallavich would feel about that line. Because they had a brief and it was “write a clip show.” 
First: why would the writers make ian flat out tell mickey that doesn't have his whole heart WHEN THEY'RE MARRIED for god's sake.
So that they’d have a fight through which they would introduce themed clip packages that had already been decided on. 
Second: i'm just so confused and upset about what the writers were trying to accomplish with this?
Completely understandable that you’d be confused by it, because the primary thing they were looking to accomplish was to have snippets of conversation that would introduce themed clip packages. 
Third: why'd the writers chose such vague flowery BS wording for this? plz help me get it
Because nothing in the Hall of Shame episodes can actually add up to anything significant, because they’re clips shows that were put together entirely because Showtime needed to fill time while the show -- which is still shooting -- finishes up. 
A few things about the Hall of Shame episodes. The first and the most important: It’s pretty much impossible to write a good clip show. They are creative black holes. I shudder to think how much time the writers were even given to do these things. They all -- All! -- exist solely to fill time.  So it’s always “The Golden Girls sit around a table and eat cheesecake and then reminisce about all the times they ate cheesecake.” One of the very worst episodes of Star Trek: TNG exists solely because they ordered another episode at the last minute and it’s -- you guessed it! -- A clip show. The best -- and I use that term loosely -- clip shows are the ones where the have some Voice of God narrator say “Mickey and Ian are the romantic heart of the show, but they don’t always get along! Cue clip package where Mickey and Ian fight about stuff. Voice of God: “But they sure do enjoy making up!” -- Cue clip package of Ian and Mickey making out. 
That still sounds pretty terrible. The best idea for a Shameless clip show is to do some sort of Frank-at-the-bar-talking-shit thing and I’m sure they thought of that and then I'm sure they were like “Fuck. We can’t spare Bill for that kind of time.” -- and then they had to do this. This whole thing is born of scarcity -- of time, of means and of new things to put on the tv -- And given the choice, having seen what came out of it, I think I opt for what they did because I truly do believe the Mickey gifs that the Fiona one produced have restorative properties and I am very grateful that they exist. 
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The Hall fo Shame episodes giveth, and they taketh away. So my advice, in how to approach them is just this: 
They aren’t canon
Nothing that happens in them matters
But the parts you like can be as real as you want them to be
So take what you like and throw the rest away
But again, this might be easier said than done, so let me dig a little deeper into what bothers you so much about this line in the context that it happens. 
The 87% line is patently ridiculous and I reject its premise. Love is not finite. You do not divide it between people. You love the people you love, the way you love them, and if someone else showed up you’d love them in whatever way you love them and that would not lessen the love you feel for anyone else. You do not suddenly love your child 50% less because you had another child. That is insane. You just love the other child also. 
That said, the 11 seasons in which we have seen Ian love Mickey more than he loves anything -- his freaking words -- cannot be undone by one line of dialogue in a clip show. First, because clip shows are innately flawed, but also because 11 seasons are more important than one line of dialogue. Even ONE episode of Not a Clip Show is more important than what happens in a clip show. Every single episode of Shameless is trying to do something much more valid and important with the characters than introduce a clip package. 
This problem is also not restricted to the Gallavich episode -- People do a whole bunch of stuff in the HoS episodes that they’ve never done on the show. Carl and Debbie don’t punch each other in the face. Lip doesn’t completely and totally discount every single thing his sister did to keep a roof over their head. Mickey doesn’t act like Ian’s sexuality is a lifestyle choice and Ian is smart enough to know that Mickey Milkovich -- who he loves more than anything -- doesn’t want hear about the mathematical breakdown of how much Ian cares about Other Men. 
now i desperately need the writers to fix this and say mickey has ian's whole heart. 
This is probably not going to happen because I don’t think Actual Shameless considers that to be a thing that happened. On Actual Shameless Ian watched Mickey beat Ned up and then ran away with him when the cops showed up looking DELIGHTED that Mickey had beaten Ned up. On Actual Shameless Ian can barely stand to have Kash touch him once he’s been with Mickey, because Mickey is all he wants. On Actual Shameless Ian’s most viable non-Mickey relationship crumbles the second Mickey shows up because there’s just no comparison for him. Ian loves Mickey. He doesn’t stop. If something happened to Mickey he wouldn't look vaguely disconcerted and then get into an argument with some third party about whether or not it’s valid to be weirded out when someone you had sex with dies. You know that line, “show, don’t tell”? There’s reason that’s considered better storytelling -- because the stuff you show is the stuff that the audience feels and experiences. If Ian had said he loved Ned in any capacity I would have laughed out loud, because what I was shown was Ian mostly hanging out with Ned because he was missing Mickey, wanted a distraction, liked room service and the occasional nice gift, and... it made Mickey jealous. None of that was about Ned. 
And in the end: Ned’s dead, baby. Long live Gallavich. 
(it would of course be very nice if Ian would tell Mickey he has his whole heart, partly because it’s true, but also because Mickey deserves to hear these sorts of things, and we all want Mickey to be happy. And I do think Ian probably does tell Mickey that, after the clip show is over -if we acknowledge that this happened at all- because ultimately Ian’s whole life is about Mickey. Mickey is all he ever talks about. Even when he’s being pissy it’s all about how things are going with Mickey and how they are GOING to be going with Mickey. How he feels about his job, how he feels about himself, what his life plan is -- all depends on what is up with Mickey. Mickey is everything to him, and I’m going to assume Ian both shows and tells Mickey that in key ways, because Mickey sure seems happy in the Fiona HoS.) 
Anyway -- I don’t know if that helps at all, but that’s my take on this mess. Thank you for asking! 
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angelthefirst1 · 4 years ago
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The ballerina begins to dance again in fifteen minutes...
Last season I was extremely hopeful that perhaps masked Ninja would end up being Beth and that a big reveal would be similar to Morgan at the end of Coda-not far from finding team family, taking his mask off and revealing that he was indeed still alive. Providing us with a repeat Coda. Anyone that has been followed my posts over the years knows that I believe the actors use social media to give hints as to what is coming in the show, and that specifically-Emily's side projects since she's been gone, are planned by AMC and deliberately picked for her to symbolically shadow TWD. Thinking about some of the projects she has worked on, they include... The following-where she is a member of a cult and she is killed like this... 
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Same overall theme to Alpha who had "A following"with the whisperers, and is killed in the same way. The flash (self explanatory)
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Ten days in the Valley-About a missing girl The concussion-About a lady who gets a blow to the head. The Knick-About a brilliant surgeon who pushes the boundaries of medicine. If Beth is to survive her gunshot, she would at some point need medical attention. Forever-about a medical examiner who is immortal and studies the dead. In TWD universe we have seen examples of studying the dead/immortality, at the CDC in season one, and Milton in season three-who is a researcher and scientist, and we see hints of something similar happening with the helicopter group too. Love on the sidelines, which-as the title suggests would indicate her love story is on the sidelines. Being played quietly PPP Bullet proof Picasso-also self explanatory...
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The messiah (Beth has always been portrayed as a sacrificial Christ figure) she sacrificed herself for Noah while wearing the cross bracelet. And we believe she will rise again and as with Jesus there was an empty tomb and Beth we saw no grave.  All of these could well be symbolic of Beth's story in part... And then there's some of Emily's songs which many in the past have speculated are about Bethyl. Songs like Last chance and more recently her song played on the TWD The Turtle and the monkey which played in episode 1005 (10+5=15) So keeping all this in mind...when I saw her post this...
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About doing ballet and getting stronger, my mind at the time was focused on Ninja and I hoped she was learning to fight like Ninja and perhaps was just saying she was learning "Ballet" to cover for leaning marshal arts. But after re-watching 510 (5+10=15) the other day I saw Maggie open the music box and my mouth fell open and my brain exploded...
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How did I miss this connection???
I suddenly remembered Emily's new album called THE SUPPORTING CHARACTER (PPP)
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And her new song called 15 minutes (5+10=15) in which she becomes the BALLET DANCER.
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Carl hands Maggie the music box in 510 and says "I found this when we were looking for water" (water = looking for the Lord-I'll explain this further down) Maggie "What is it?" Carl "I think it's used to play music" Carl "It's broken, I thought you might like it" Maggie "Thanks Carl"
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Emily's new single/album is produced by SEAHORSE SOUND STUDIOS which is also represented in 510 (5+10=15) by this...
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The walker trapped in the car in 510 is release by keys with a yellow seahorse. It’s trapped in the yellow "Seahorse studio" and even looks to have pointed toes like a ballerina and possibly a nod to ballet shoes to match...
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Daryl, when he sees this car, deliberately runs away from it and goes on his search for WATER and comes across this dead deer
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Time and again in this show (and others) whenever a deer dies (Christ) a person lives. If the deer lives-the person dies. Carl, Rick, and Magna's group prove this-just to name a few. In biblical symbology, deer represent devotion, and safety in God's care. Deer are a symbol of thirst and longing for the Lord. (Beth) Old testament David wrote about God, “As a deer longs for flowing streams (Water), so my soul longs for you. Jesus said "whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'" Understanding the eternal water that Jesus speaks of will make more sense of 510 and why they were so desperate for water and then get drenched in it.
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It's all about Beth (Jesus) return.
So for those who perhaps don't fully understand or haven't heard the gospel of Jesus Christ it's basically this. Mankind broke God's moral law (The ten commandments-Don't lie, steal, dishonor parents, commit adultery etc...) The payment for breaking even one of God's laws-even once is eternal death. God became a man (Jesus) who was free of the fallen nature and so was sinless. He sacrificed himself to pay the fine or penalty that was owed to mankind, having broken God's laws. So he died on the cross, but because he sacrificially paid for the sins of the world that were not his, God raised him to life and he defeated death (He wasn't owed the death penalty) He defeated death not just for himself but for all who ask him to take their place or payment. Water is life for humans so the reason Jesus calls himself the living water that springs to eternal life is because his water (sacrifice) if accepted brings eternal life to the drinker. So if a person lives (eternally) it's because Christ dies in their place, and they receive the eternal water Jesus has offered them. Beth was heavily portrayed as Christ, and Daryl (like old testament David) was longing for Beth when he went looking for water and he found the dead deer. Indicating Beth was indeed alive, he just didn't know it.
Emily's new song, video clip and album has heavily included symbolism of Beth from 510. including Beth being water and also the music box/ballerina. 510 (5+10=15 minutes) The water aspect is shown-or not shown i should say, by her album art cover. Which depicts her in the dessert (showing a lack of water just like the group in 510) but Emily is wearing the same pink that is found inside the music box. With the white shoes a nod to the white skirt. 
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And this post Emily made about getting stronger at Ballet...
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Was a repeat of this scene with Daryl and Maggie...
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Daryl "She was tough, she didn't know it-but she was".  
The music video for 15 minutes is depicting the music box in 510. The video clip is very short and on a repeat loop, just like the ballerina in the music box it spins round and round.
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For added emphasis i have hummed part of the music-from the music box that plays at the end of 510, and combined it into the introduction of Emily’s song, (please excuse the bad humming) but oddly the two fit together. whether that’s just pure luck or not, i don’t know but i found it interesting.  
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In the video, Emily is dressed as a ballerina in the background but doesn't actually dance, it's a different ballerina dancing. Just like the music box ballerina represents Beth, but isn't actually her.
In photo’s Emily posted of the Video shoot, we see a ballerina dancing in front of oval lights-a hint to the oval mirror from the music box in the background.
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Some of the lyrics to the song also made my ears prick up. Such as this...
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While filming the small video clip for Fifteen minutes Emily posted some Instagram stories, which also tell Beth's story and I will go into below. Watch it and then read below.
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This may seem to be an unplanned impromptu video, but it's not. Everything in this clip is scripted and planned. Every action and word is repeating Beth and Daryl scenes.  I'll point it out to you line by line... "Jacob's playing the piano, in my music Video that's coming soon" a reminder of Beth (music) playing piano and the music box playing again soon.
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Jacob throughout this conversation is stuffing his face. Repeating Daryl doing the same in Alone.
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Emily "Do you want to add to that?" Is a play on "What changed your mind?"
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Jacob "Yeah you're gonna love it" (Daryl was trying to tell Beth he loved her)
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Emily "What else? Ya think it's gonna be pretty good" Another play and repeat of the "What changed your mind" line, good people, and Beth playing “Be good” on the piano. Jacob "It's beautiful"
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Emily "Thank you" repeating the thank you note. (In the background while Emily says thank you, we hear someone shout ooohhhh repeating the oh moment)
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Emily laughs and says "what if you'd said no" which i think is a play on Daryl saying nothing to Beth when she asks "Don't you think that's beautiful?" Emily "Do you have some notes for the song?" A play on the thank you note. Jacob says he doesn't have any notes, repeating Daryl telling Beth she doesn't have to leave the thank you note.
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Emily "Okay GOOD, because it's already mixed and mastered. Another mention of good.
Jacob ends the short clip with another reminder of the good theme by saying "The good thing is..." and it ends there abruptly, just like Beth and Daryl's story ending on the good people theme abruptly. This whole clip is a playful version of Beth and Daryl's main plot points from Alone.
Considering Emily posted about her ballet teacher saying she was getting stronger. I really find it odd that Emily doesn't actually dance in this video, she is just in the background.
I mean... she was apparently taking Ballet lessons and then does a ballet themed video clip-that would be a perfect opportunity to show some moves in. But it seems the Ballet theme video actually serves a different purpose-to tells us beforehand that the music box ballerina is about to start dancing again... 
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Hopefully you can all see the connections here, and it's provided you with some much needed hope that Beth the music box ballerina is about to dance again soon. 
I do want to give a shout out to Emily Kinney Info on Instagram who is amazing at archiving all Emily's posts and provided me with some Instagram stories, clips and photos, which would have been lost in time.
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thatfanficstuff · 5 years ago
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Fair Trade - The Walking Dead
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Pairing: Rick x Ex-Reader 
Warnings: Canon typical stuff and worse language than normal cuz Negan
A/N: this was supposed to be a Rick x reader. It turned into you being a badass and Negan flirting. Enjoy!
***
You were on watch but instead of guarding the outside of the walls, your gaze trailed Rick and Michonne as they walked down the street. They were all smiles and hand-holding and God it still hurt. There was a time that was you. When it was you tucking Judith in at night and trying to convince Carl he could be a kid on occasion without the world falling apart.
Then you’d gotten separated shortly after Terminus. The irony of living through all that other shit together and losing one another after the worst of it. Rick assumed you were dead. Rightfully so you guessed, but you’d never quit looking for him. As it turned out, it wasn’t him you found. It was Daryl.
He’d been on a run and you were just trying to survive. You’d never been so happy to have a crossbow pointed at your face. There was a small piece of you that always wondered if they’d known you were alive and just left you but his reaction assured you that wasn’t the case. Daryl had immediately lowered his weapon and wrapped an arm around you to pull you to him. He was near tears as he kissed your head. “We thought you were dead. That the walkers got you.”
You pulled away from him with a smile. “I’m not that easy to kill, Daryl.”
He huffed a laugh. “Thank fuck for that.”
“How is everyone?” You might have said everyone but you really meant Rick and Daryl knew it.
“Rick’s just fine, Y/N. He’s going to be thrilled to see you. We got us a place now. A good place. Come home with me?” He sounded uncertain as if you’d maybe found another life without them.
You grinned. “Yes, please.” You’d been on your own since you’d lost them. Your heart too tender to find another group only to lose them too. And you’d never lost hope you’d find your family again.
Daryl chewed on his thumb and kept glancing at you while he drove. He was nervous but you had no idea why.
“All right. What’s up with you?” you finally asked.
“Nothing. Just…” He sighed. “Look, it’s just been awhile okay? I mean, we all thought you were dead so you can’t get mad if things aren’t the way they were.”
You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat. “He’s with someone else.” It was a fear you had with everyday that passed but tried not to think about too much. You’d promised each other forever so he’d choose you, right?
Daryl glanced at you again and cringed. “Don’t look like that, Y/N. He grieved. We all did, but him the longest. It was relief when he moved on instead of fading away like we all feared.”
You turned your attention to the window as hot tears ran down your cheeks. “Of course, it was, Daryl. It’s fine. No worries. It will be nice to be home even if it’s not like I remember it.”
And it was. Even if it did break your heart to see Rick and Michonne together. It was a little cliché if you did say so yourself. Your boyfriend and your best friend seeking comfort in one another. To be fair, they’d offered to split up but you’d turned them down. They weren’t offering because Rick was so madly in love with you he wanted you back. No, it was just guilt, plain and simple. You gave them your blessing and moved in with Daryl. And if you cried so hard that first night that he’d heard you and crawled into bed with you to hold you while you wept, well the two of you kept that to yourselves.
You tore your eyes from the happy couple and turned your attention back to the road. Daryl was gone now and you were more alone than ever. He’d been taken by that asshole Negan. Thus far you’d avoided meeting the leader of the Saviors. You spent a lot of time on runs or hunting and always managed to be gone when he came for his supplies. As movement in the distance caught your eye, you got the feeling your luck might have just run out.
“Rick,” you called, knowing he was still close enough to hear. Less than a minute later, he was by your side. You handed him your binoculars and stepped back.
“Shit. He’s early.” He lowered the glasses and the muscle in his jaw twitched. His gaze flicked to you. “Did you get the supplies we needed?”
You nodded once. “I put the extra in your basement. We keep stashing the way we have been, we’ll have a pretty good back up.”
He put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “Good.” And then he was gone.
You shifted your rifle from your shoulder to your hands. You weren’t going to shoot anyone, but it made you feel better, kind of like a high caliber security blanket. The gates were open by the time Negan and his men arrived. There was no reason to piss him off any more than necessary. Once they were inside, the gates were secured behind them. Your gaze darted between the area outside the wall and the meeting going on between Negan and Rick.
You ran your tongue along your teeth as you took in the man that had everyone so scared. A couple of the women had mentioned his looks but damn. You wondered how many times he’d used that panty melting smile you caught a glimpse of to get exactly what he wanted. A low moan caught your attention and your head snapped back to the outside. Grabbing the binoculars, you scanned the tree line. A fucking horde. Just what you needed when the devil himself was inside your walls. They were still far enough away that they could turn. You tried to do a quick count but there were simply too many.
“Shit, shit, shit.”  You hopped off the wall and ran straight for Daryl’s bike. Negan hollered as you ran by and you were aware of several weapons pointed in your direction. You slid to a stop to give him a quick once over. “You can yell at me and ask me whatever you want in a bit. Right now, I have a horde to distract.”
When he continued to study you with those dark eyes and the weapons stayed trained on you, you shifted your weight. “Make up your mind, cowboy. Either I go now or we fight a horde at the gate.”
“Simon.” That was all Negan said, but it was enough to send another man scrambling up the wall.
“She’s telling the truth,” he called down a moment later.
Negan licked his lips. “And you think you can stop them?”
“I know I can.”
He held your gaze a moment more before nodding once. “You can go. If you run, someone dies.”
You rolled your eyes as you ran to the bike. Your rifle was settled across your back and you grabbed an airhorn from the saddle bag. You fired up the bike and headed for the gate knowing it would be open by the time you got there. At least it better be or this was going to be a short trip.
Sure enough, there was a gap just wide enough for you to ride through. You stopped a short distance from the horde and swallowed as you looked them over again. Damn, there was a lot of them. You could only hope enough followed you to make this worth it. Sucking in a deep breath, you blasted the air horn. As the horde immediately shifted in your direction you smiled. “Here we go.”
You took off on the bike trying your best to maintain that happy medium of close enough they kept following and far enough ahead they wouldn’t actually catch you. Occasionally you’d blow the horn to make sure you kept their attention. You knew roughly the direction they needed to go to keep from going straight to another community so you steered them that way. Everything was going according to plan and you were just about ready to ditch the horde when it all went to shit. To be fair you should have been expecting it. Your life tended to do that at the most inopportune moments.
Your attention was on the horde behind you when you were hit from the side. You dumped the bike. Skin and blood colored the grass as you slid along pinned under the bike. Shoving the metal off, you pushed yourself to your feet and pulled out your knife. The walker that had taken you out lumbered in your direction. From the looks of a half-severed limb, the crash hadn’t left it unscathed either. You stepped back and nearly howled as pain flared up your leg. Shit. You couldn’t outrun them and you certainly couldn’t kill them all. You needed to find another alternative.
The only thing around other than you and the dead was trees. Looked like you were climbing. It took more effort than it normally would have but you finally made it into the tree. You did your best to assess the damage from the crash but it wasn’t easily done in your current position. Near as you could figure nothing was broken but you were torn up and hurting.
Once the majority of the horde passed, you climbed down, grunting when you put weight on your leg. You used your knife to take out a couple of stragglers that got between you and the bike. To your relief the engine turned on the first try. You turned around to head back to Alexandria. The ride wasn’t doing shit for your pain level but you needed to get back and the sooner the better. The gate slid open as you approached and you pulled in and parked.
A short distance away, Negan had five members of your group on their knees in front of him. He turned to watch you dismount. “Well, look who came back.”
“You’re an impatient fuck, aren’t you?” you asked with a gesture at your friends.
His lips twitched and he motioned for everyone to stand. He sauntered over to you, baseball bat on his shoulder. “You have one colossal sized set of balls for a woman. How is it you and I have never met?”
“Not around much. I’m usually hunting or doing supply runs.”
He nodded and ran his tongue over his bottom lips as he looked you over again. His smile fell away as he noticed the injuries you’d tried to keep turned from him. Never let your enemy see your weakness and all that. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Dumped the bike. It’s fine.”
“It’s not the bike I asked about, sweetheart. Anything broken?” He just continued to close the distance between you as he talked.
“Why do you care?” There was no venom in your words, you were just genuinely curious.
“Well, you’re not much use to me if you’re damaged goods, are you?” And there was that grin again. As if your knees weren’t already weak enough.
“What do you mean she’s of use to you?” Rick finally spoke up. It was the first thing anyone other than Negan had said since your return.
“Well, Rick the dick, I intend to take her with me when we leave. You got a problem with that?”
“Yeah, I got a problem with that. You can’t just take one of our people. That wasn’t part of our deal.”
The change in Negan’s demeanor was immediate and severe and he turned to Rick with a growl. “Our deal is whatever the fuck I say it is.”
“All right, boys. You’re both pretty.”
Negan turned to face you, his brow arched. He was not amused at having been interrupted. You held up your hands in a placating gesture. “I’m the best shot they have and do a good portion of their runs. Rick’s just worried about what will happen when I leave. That’s all.”
He ran his tongue over his lip again as if he knew precisely how it made your belly flutter. He kept his gaze on you as he talked to Rick. “That true, Ricky. Are you worried about losing…Well, fuck, sweetheart, I don’t even know your name.”
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Are you worried about losing Y/N here in particular?”
Rick cleared his throat. “Yeah. None of us want to see Y/N go anywhere.”
You couldn’t help but hope there was a deeper meaning hidden in Rick’s words. Of course, you’d been completely serious when you said you were the best shot in the ranks. It was just as likely he was lamenting the loss of your aim.
“Alright then, I’ll give her a choice. She can stay or she can come with me. No consequences. So what’ll it be, sweetheart?” Negan’s grin was cocky but there was a genuine curiosity burning in his eyes. He wanted to see what you’d do.
“Then she stays,” Rick answered.
“It’s her choice, not yours. Try to interfere again and you and Lucille will be having a little chat.” Again, Negan didn’t even turn to look at the man he was addressing. Apparently, he found you entirely too interesting to turn his attention elsewhere.
You tilted your head as you looked him over. You weren’t fooling yourself here. You knew this man was brutal, ruthless and cruel. You also knew that he took care of those that were loyal to him and he didn’t tolerate mistreatment of women by his men. Maybe you could get Daryl out if you went. Maybe you couldn’t. Either way you wouldn’t have to smile as your heart broke over and over again every single day.
“Three months.”
“Excuse me?” Negan asked, clearly confused.
“I go with you, you give them three months before you come back. Give them time to get back on their feet without me.”
He laughed. “You can’t be that fucking important, sweetheart.”
“Daryl and I were a team. We kept this shit locked down. You’ve got him too so it seems only fair.”
“Whoever said I was fair?”
You took a limping step toward him and his attention shifted to your leg with a frown. “I go with you of my own free will. You get a Marine with the best aim within a hundred miles. I get some pain meds and they get three months to build up a supply before you take half of it.”
His gaze narrowed. “One month.”
“Two,” you countered and hoped like fuck he’d take it. You wanted to get off your damn feet and you didn’t rightly care if it was here or in a truck on the way to Negan’s community.
He grinned again. “Your girl here just bought you two months, folks. You better make good use of it.”
You nodded. “I got some shit to get together.”
“You don’t look like you’re in any shape to be doing much of anything.” He turned and glanced around until his gaze fell on Carol. “Get her stuff together and bring it out.”
Your friend looked at you and went to do as instructed after a nod from you.
Negan’s attention shifted to Rick. “You. Get her some pain medication.” He glanced at you. “Need anything else?”
“Alcohol and bandages would probably be a good idea.”
“You heard the lady,” Negan said and Rick frowned.
“She ain’t part of our group anymore, she ain’t using our supplies,” he grumbled.
God, what was he, two years old? “Oh, fuck you, Rick. Daryl and I got most of those supplies in there. I’ll use whatever the fuck I want.” You hobbled past all of them in the direction of the clinic.
“Easy there,” Negan said and placed a hand on your arm. “You’re going to hurt yourself worse stomping around like that.” He swept you up in his arms before you even realized he was doing it. His long strides at up the ground and you were at the clinic in no time. He sat you down at the door and you dug the keys out of your pocket to unlock the door.
You flipped on the light and moved straight to the cabinets that held the supplies you needed. “Thanks for the help.”
He made a sound of acknowledgment but didn’t say anything as you sat everything you needed on the counter. You gestured to the tall cabinet beside him. “There’s a change of clothes in there. Will you grab them for me?”
He handed over the sweats and t-shirt. They were kind of universal clothes. Whoever needed them used them, but they were yours now. “Let me help.”
You looked at him in surprise then shrugged. It would be a hell of a lot easier if you didn’t have to do it yourself. You sat in a chair to take off your boots. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask whatever you want. Whether I answer or not is another matter.”
That answer didn’t surprise you in the least. “Why the interest? I’m nothing special.”
When you had difficulty getting your jeans off without pain, he helped. You expected a smart remark or a quick feel but he stayed completely professional. Once you were up on the table, he wet down a wash cloth and came back. “Eyes closed.”
You studied him a second longer before doing as he said. Immediately he began to wipe the dirt from your face. You tensed when he found a cut or scrape but he was surprisingly gentle.
“I’ll admit to being intrigued when you hopped off that wall. And I damn near came in my pants when you blew out the gate to face down the horde. Anyone that says you aren’t special is a damn fool, sweetheart.” He moved his attentions from your face to your leg and you opened your eyes. “I watched them when you came back. Watched their reactions. They don’t deserve you. Don’t appreciate you the way they should.”
“And you’re going to give me that appreciation I deserve?” you asked as he finished bandaging your leg.
His fingers traced a path from your ankle to your thigh and you shivered. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”
1K notes · View notes
walkerwords · 4 years ago
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“Half A Man” Daryl Dixon x F!Reader
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GIF CREDIT: http://gph.is/2yFFwpT
Request: from @thanossexual​ Hi can I request "Half A Man" by Dean Lewis songfic Shane x Reader (but if you don't feel like writing for Shane, I'd be totally satisfied with reading a Daryl x Reader)! Thank you goddess ❤️
Word Count: 3033
Warning: None
Song I Wrote To: “Half A Man” by Dean Lewis
Note: Sorry for the delay on this one! I hope I did this justice! Thank you for the request!
----------
I was wrong to say I loved her
I was wrong to think I'm right
But when I told her it was over
My darling I had lied
The thick woods of Virginia were like navigating a labyrinth.
With all the overgrowth, the once familiar woods were starting to look like a whole other world. You had gotten used to trekking through the deep woods, but when you were distracted, it was never easy. The Walkers were also not ideal, especially this far from the roads that lead to each community. 
When you had left your lonely home in Alexandria that morning, you hadn’t told anyone where you were going. However, the look on Rosita’s face as she watched you exit the gate from her spot on watch, told you she knew exactly where your head was at. 
I've been running from my demons
Afraid to look behind
It had been two years since Rick had sacrificed himself on the bridge. It had also been two years since Daryl Dixon left to be alone in the woods in hopes of finding his brother. You had been supportive at first and you still were, but every time you woke up alone in the bed the two of you once shared, your heart ached.
I've been running from myself
Afraid of what I'd find
You had met Daryl the day he and his brother had entered the camp at the quarry. You were best friends with Glenn and had followed him after the world had turned for the worse. Glenn was wary of the Dixons, but you had got on with them almost immediately, dodging Merle’s annoying comments with a laugh and connecting with the quieter brother whenever you got the chance.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to grow closer and by the time the group had found the Greene farm, you and Daryl were nearly inseparable. The romantic relationship didn’t start until after you had reunited after the horrors of Terminus and from then on, you made a promise to him that no matter where you were, you would always find each other. 
But how am I supposed to love you
When I don't love who I am?
And how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man?
Then, the war with the Saviors had happened and Daryl had been taken. It was obvious to everyone in your family that he was pulling away. You understood and you didn’t. You hadn’t been the one locked in the Sanctuary and tortured. You did, however, understand what it felt like to lose a brother. When Negan had brutally murdered Glenn in front of you as you tried to keep Maggie from collapsing, it felt as if someone had torn out your heart. 
Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning
So let go of my hand
Oh, how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man?
It became clear to you after everything that had happened with the Saviors and then with Rick, that you and Daryl were never going to be the way you once were. However, that didn’t make you stop loving him. He lived in your mind and no matter what you were doing or who you were with, you were always thinking about the man you loved. Which is how you found yourself stumbling over roots and rocks to find him in his wooded getaway.
And now I'm stuck in this hotel room
By cold neon light
You made it to the river as Carol had suggested and followed it down. It didn’t take long to hear the groans of Walkers which you had anticipated. Following the sounds of death, you finally found them as they were tangled in some sort of wired contraption. It also didn’t take you long to recognize it as Daryl’s work.
He had been the one to teach you and the rest of the group about how to make the larger snares for the Walkers. They worked perfectly for when you were all on the road after Terminus and before Alexandria. You dispatched the rotting creatures quickly, your knife sliding into their skulls with ease. You pulled the corpses from their traps and made sure the snares were reset before continuing on. 
I've been waiting for an answer
But it don't come tonight
A cold breeze rustled the trees causing you to shiver slightly. It would be winter soon and you couldn’t stop thinking about him all alone out here in the snow. Hell, you didn’t even like the thought of Negan alone in the cold cell either. You had been guilty over the past couple of years giving him extra blankets and such without Michonne’s knowledge. You figured Gabriel knew it was you, but he had never said anything. It wasn’t until last year that Judith started helping you. Regardless of what he had done, you didn’t wish the man to freeze to death. 
After walking for a bit longer, you finally smelled the burning of wood, a familiar scent after all these years. You could see his makeshift camp from your spot in the trees. When he had left initially you knew he was running from his demons by living out here, but you had never expected for it to go on this long. 
Stepping out of the tree line, you were met with the tip of a crossbow bolt. You stared wide eyed at it as you tried to keep your breathing steady.
“(Y/N)?” Daryl gasped as he quickly lowered his bow. “Dammit, I could’ve killed ya!”
“Yeah, let’s not do that,” you said, blinking quickly. He tossed his weapon down and turned away from you. You drank in the sight of him. He was still Daryl, but his hair was longer, mangy, and he had a few new scars on his face and hands. Your hands ached to reach out and push his hair off his face to see those beautiful blue eyes of his, but you remained where you were. “Daryl,” you began, but he shook his head. 
“Go away,” he muttered.
“No,” you countered, stepping further into his camp. “I’ve given you space, Daryl, but I am done avoiding this.” 
“Leave! Go back to Alexandria,” he snapped, kicking out at a stack of firewood. He was still keeping his back turned to you. 
“Dammit Daryl!” you swore going over to him. “Would you just look at me please?” It took him a second, but eventually he turned and faced you. After another moment, he finally looked at you, his eyes finding yours. “Aren’t you even a bit happy to see me?” you asked. 
Daryl sighed and shook the hair from his face. “Of course, I am,” he said quietly, “but I can’t do this right now.” 
“Right,” you said. “I thought you were done pushin’ people away.”
“I thought I was too,” Daryl admitted. You could still see the hurt in his eyes, almost as if Rick was haunting him through and through.
“It’s been two years,” you whispered. “Please, Daryl, come home.” Daryl shook his head as he pushed away from you. Keeping your distance, you watched as he paced, his boots digging into the soft earth. 
“I can’t face ‘em,” he said. “I can’t face...her.” He looked at you with sadness and you knew who he meant. 
“Michonne doesn’t blame you,” you promised. 
“I blame myself! I shouldn’t have let him go lead that horde by himself! I ain’t meant to be here. It should’ve been me by his side,” Daryl said and you ignored the pang in your chest.
“What about Judith, huh? Or RJ?” you tried. 
“Don’t,” he warned, pointing his finger at you, but you didn’t back down. 
“They look up to. Judith, especially, and then you go and disappear on her after she’s lost her father? And what about Aaron? Or hell, have you even been to see Carol?” you hadn’t realized you were yelling until he had flinched at the volume. You quickly stopped and controlled yourself. “I know you go to Hilltop for supplies.” The last time you had visited and Enid had mentioned Daryl, you were hurt, but had tried to brush it off the best you could. 
“Ya don’t get it,” he said. 
“Then explain it to me,” you pleaded, “because I can’t keep waking up every mornin’ and wonderin’ where you are or if you’re even still alive.”
And every bottle I had stolen
Lay shattered on the floor
What's broken can't be whole, anymore
“I’m broken, (Y/N),” he said with a shrug.
“That’s bullshit,” you countered quickly. 
“Is it?” he asked, stepping closer to you. 
“Fractured,” you reminded him, “but never broken. Don’t you remember that?” He paused as the memory flew across his mind. It was something you had said to him after the day at the farm when Sophia had come out of Herschel’s barn. Daryl had said that Carol had broken, but you assured him that she wasn’t. She was fractured, but she was never broken. It was something that you both continued to say throughout your time together. Especially after Merle and Beth died. At one point, it had offered him comfort and you only hoped that it did now. 
“You remember my sister?” you continued. He looked away from you, but you pushed on. “She saved us when those Walkers overwhelmed the prison. She died protecting Beth and Carl and you helped me through it then and every loss afterwards. Why won’t you let me help you? Why won’t you let me in anymore?”
But how am I supposed to love you
When I don't love who I am
“I’m not the same, I ain’t right,” he said. 
“People change, Daryl. You don’t think I get that? I’m not the same person I was five years ago let alone when all of this shit started. It took me a while to adjust to the new normal and fight for the future, but you helped me to do it. Not my sister, you. You are my person.” Daryl was shaking his head again. 
And how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man
“I don’t wanna drag ya down,” he said. You slowly reached out to take his hand and when he didn’t pull away, you gripped it in yours. 
“Who says that’ll happen? I know my limits, Daryl,” you told him. “You can’t tell me you’re happy out here,” you said softly.
“Of course not!” he yelled and snatched his hand back. Your palm stung from the absence of his touch. “Dammit, (Y/N)! I hate it, but this my life. Ya think I don’t feel bad about what I did to ya? Leavin’ ya like that? Yer always in my head woman!” 
Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning
So let go of my hand
Oh, how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man?
His declaration shot through you and all you wanted to do was take him in your arms, but there was still that solid wall between the two of you. One that you weren’t sure how to break through. “Daryl,” you tried, but he kept going. 
“Everywhere I go, I’m lookin’ for ya. No matter what I’m doin’. Ya wanna know why I go to Hilltop? I go because Jesus told me he looks out for ya! Ya say yer always wonderin’ if I’m still alive? Well so am I.” 
“Then come home,” you said again. 
“I can’t,” he said with pleading eyes, begging you to understand. “I ain’t...whole without him.” Daryl fell to his knees and you joined him on the ground as he hung his head.
You didn’t know what to say. You never wanted him to feel like this. Rick Grimes was the one person who never turned his back on Daryl. Probably the first person to ever treat him as an equal in his life. Even before the two of you were together, you knew that you would never have the bond the two brothers had. It was something too special to replicate. “I can’t fix myself,” he said. “How am I suppose to love ya?”
“There’s nothing to fix,” you told him, carefully. “It was never hard for us, Daryl. Don’t you remember when you went lookin’ for Beth? That was the first time you kissed me as we said goodbye. You told me that there was no guarantee we’d see each other again, but I knew you would come back. Then after Negan took you,” his eyes fell closed at the memory, “I knew you’d come back to me then too. That is how much faith I have in us. You can leave me for a decade and I will still love you.”
And no one can ever hurt me
Like I've hurt myself
“Don’t ya get it?” he asked, but his tone was much softer now. “How can I give ya all of me when I ain’t even myself anymore? It’s all too much pain,” he laughed bitterly. “And now? Nobody else can hurt me when I’ve screwed myself up.” 
“Not true,” you disagreed, “You’re hurtin’ yourself, D.” You reached up and take his face in your hands. He visibly relaxed at your touch and you nearly cried as he leaned into your palms. You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his as the tears flowed from your eyes. 
'Cause I'm made out of stone
And I'm beyond help
Don't give your heart to me
“Please,” he whispered, “please don’t love me.”
“I do,” you said through your tears.
“No.”
“I never stopped, Daryl Dixon.” He pulled back from you, taking your wrists and removing your hands from his face. 
“Everyone around me dies,” he said. “Merle, Beth, Glenn, Carl! Now Rick! Who’s next? Judith? Aaron? You?”
“None of it was your fault, Daryl,” you said.
“It is, I shoulda done more,” he said. His hair fell into his face and you reached out to smooth it away. 
“You’re not God, Daryl. You’re just one man. A man that I, and many others, love. Why can’t you see that?” Daryl shook his head, trying to lean away, but you placed your hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. 
But how am I supposed to love you
When I don't love who I am?
And how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man?
“I’m not enough for ya.” 
“That is not up for you to decide,” you said plainly. 
“(Y/N)...”
“No, just listen to me. I don’t blame you for anything. Beth was not your fault; Merle was not your fault; and Rick was definitely not your fault. What he did, he did to protect all of us. To make sure that Carl’s dream was fulfilled. Rick wanted us to be a new kind of world and so he did what he had to make sure we could still be that, that we could build something special. I don’t know what he would think if he saw how separated we all are now, but I do know that he wouldn’t want you to be out here alone chasing ghosts.
“On our first night in Alexandria, do you know what he said to me?” Daryl shook his head. “Rick told me that he would do anything to make sure you saw a happy ending. I am not about to let him down, are you?” A tear flowed down his cheek and you caught it with your thumb. “You’re not lost, Daryl, and I am not leaving here until you get that through that thick skull of yours.” 
Daryl broke down in front of you then, keeling over. You caught him as he leaned into you. His arms snaked around you and you held him. “I miss him so much,” he whispered and your heart broke at the words. Holding him tighter, you ran your hands down his back, trying to rub some warmth back into his soul. 
The fire crackled next to you as Daryl Dixon lay in your arms. When you had decided to go looking for him that morning, you had never imagined that this is the man you would find. “I miss him too,” you whispered. Daryl clutched at your back and you were reminded of the last time you had hugged him like this. It was when you were reunited at Hilltop after he had escaped the Sanctuary. You missed holding him like this and you never wanted to let go. 
'Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning
So let go of my hand
“I haven’t found his body,” Daryl said. 
“I know and I am not saying we give up, but God, I need you,” you admitted. Daryl sat up at your words and hope entered his eyes. 
“It ain’t gonna be easy,” he said and then trailed his hand up your neck, holding it gently. 
“I know,” you said, your own hand covering his. 
“I can’t face Michonne,” he said again. 
“We’ll talk to her together,” you promised. Daryl let out a breath and then leaned in to kiss you. Your lips met his and you melted. It was the best hello you could have ever asked for. “I love you,” you said as you broke the kiss. 
“I love you too. Never stopped and never will.”
 “No matter what, Daryl, if you think you’re a sinkin’ ship, then honey, I ain’t ever letting go of your hand.” Daryl swiped at his own tears as he pulled you back into another kiss. You knew that the two of you had a long road ahead of you, but you were willing to take every step as long as he was by your side. Even if he thought he was only half the man he once was, to you, he was the only thing that made you feel whole. 
So let go of my hand
And how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man?
TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @yes-sir-hotchner​
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teddy06writes · 4 years ago
Text
Out of Their Grasp
requested by this anon: “hey hey I was wondering if you could do dream x George x reader fantasy/royal au (bc I just read "for his hand" and I love it so much!!) where reader and dream go to battle but only dream returns from it. and he has to tell George that reader died. the more angst the better😝💅”
and also this one: “will there be a part 2 of For His Hand? It’s so good, i loved it!”
{Technically you don’t have to read part one but I would recommend it because this one takes place in the same universe}
Dream x George x reader
trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, major character death, aGnSt
premise: war breaks out near the borders of the SMP, you and Dream are sent ahead of the royal party to the front lines in an attempt to stop any further battles until a peace can be reached when disaster strikes, leaving your partners to deal with the repercussions. 
{dude I’m like manically laughing right now}
(y/n/n)- your nickname
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“It was just skirmishes, here and there for the last few weeks,” Sam gestured to a few spots near the northern boarder on the map spread out across the table, before pointing to another in the center of the rest, “But then, yesterday there was a huge attack on the villages, and our military bases in this valley.” 
You glanced around the room, from person to person, gauging there reactions. 
George had visibly stiffened in his seat, and behind him Dream seemed equal tense. 
“Have we taken any measures to fight back?” Sapnap asked impatiently. 
“How bad are the damages?” George asked, ignoring him. 
Eret looked down at the report they’d been given, “There seems to have been more pillaging than raiding, they were breaking into peoples house, causing general destruction and looting, when our forces attempted to stop them they began to fight. All in all 30 of ours were killed and there was an estimated 10,000 in damages.” 
George frowned, as Niki spoke up, “We should pay the people reparation's and help them with any reconstruction that needs to be done.”
Many people nodded, but next to you Sapnap was still unhappy, “Are we doing anything about the invaders? We cannot just sit here and allow them to attack the people!” 
“Pushing, pushing.” You muttered. 
The king looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Callahan, the scribe, “Attempt to negotiate a peace. I don’t want anymore bloodshed to curse this land.” 
The man beside you groaned, and you were quick to elbow him in the side and Sam ended the meeting and everyone began to file out of the room, hissing, “I don’t know how they do things where you’re from but that is no way to behave in an advisory meeting. Next time you pull that shit you won’t be allowed back to one.” 
-You had taken the new coming warrior on as a sort of apprentice after he’d first arrived at the palace, and it was clear the change of pace wasn’t something he was ready for- 
“They can’t just stand by! The King is a fool if he thinks a peace can be reached like this!” 
You glared at him. “The King is no fool.” 
“You only say that out of obligation.” Sapnap fired back. 
You recoiled, burned, before crossing your arms and starting out of the room, “You may be a trained mercenary but you haven’t the faintest idea as to how to hold yourself among this crowd. It will be the death of you.” 
He followed you back toward your office, listening as you continued, “King George is a good and just man, to say that he is a fool is to say the sun is square. He has wiped this kingdom clean of many years of bloodshed. 
“The Kings advisors, and cabinet are kind, respectable people, you must remember to hold your tongue  unless spoken too, and never say anything brash as you have done now, lest you make a greater fool of yourself.” 
He huffed, “If I must stay silent in those meetings than how can I get my point across? Sending a messege to the enemy through force may be the only way!”
“Now you sound like Tommy, just as foolhardy and headstrong as the child,” You pushed the door to your office open, “I’m sure that Technoblade agrees with you, though he knows better than to speak freely.” 
“If he agrees with me than perhaps it’s the right move.” 
You turned to look at him quizzically, finally saying, “A wise king does not seek out war, no matter what his knights advise.” 
Sapnap turned, “Then the lot of them are fools.” 
“I have told you once to never disrespect the king, I suggest you don’t do it again. This land has seen it’s share of unjust rulers, be thankful you have not come here under worse authority.” 
~~ That night, when the palace grew quiet, and the sky dark, you found yourself back in Dream’s quarters, an overtired, overstressed George having wedged himself between you two and refusing to move. 
You sighed as Dream ran a hand through your sleeping partners hair, “He’s anxious.” 
“I mean, can you blame him? War may be on the horizon.” Dream murmured. 
“I meant even now- in the time of sleep. I think Sapnap is just adding fuel to the fire.” 
Dream sighed, “If he has another outburst like that-” 
“He’ll be cast out,” You nodded, “I know. He just needs to be willing to learn the way things go around here. In time he will learn.” 
Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, “Fucking hotshot.” 
“I think you’d like him, if you were able to spend more time with him.” You smiled. 
“Well someone had to go snatch him up as an apprentice!” 
“Well it was him or Ranboo, and Ranboo is far too- forgetful, for this sort of thing. I’d’ve had Tubbo but he and Tommy are a package set an you took ‘em.”
“What about Purpled?” 
You rolled your eyes, “He started an apprenticeship with Punz ages ago.” 
“SHHhhhhhhh, ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” George muttered, burying his face in your shoulder. 
In the darkness of the chamber you could barley make out Dream’s eyes sparkling as he took your hand, “Course love, course.” 
~~
As the weeks continued the damages on the northern boarder only seemed to grow, the new invaders claiming three of the villages there own. 
There was yet another large attack on the town that had been damaged the first time, this time a direct threat left etched on the walls, ‘You have made my people suffer, and now yours shall feel the same’
“Militia, both local and our own soldiers have taken it upon themselves to fight back, almost a hundred lived lost to each side.” The silence in the room grew deafening as Sam finished reading his report, not even Sapnap daring to speak. 
“Your Majesty?” Bad hazarded, “What is our next course of action?” 
George frowned, glancing around the room, “Peace is still the priority. Maybe- maybe we call a ceasefire, I could meet with there ruler-” 
“No,” Dream interrupted, drawing all eyes to him, “It would be too dangerous. How do we know they can be trusted to lay down there arms?” 
George shot him a look, “How do we know that we haven’t done anything to provoke them? Whatever we have done wrong we need to fix it. If we can work something out then people will be spared on both sides.” 
“Shall we arrange for a ceasefire?” Eret asked. 
The King nodded as Wilbur spoke up, “We could set up a meeting place, on neutral ground, possibly similar to the holy lands, so there would be no worry of a security breech.”
Dream seemed to relax at this, and then eyes were turned to you and Sapnap, representing the royal guard, “We can, but even so we should stay vigilant, perhaps send a group ahead with the runners to see too it.” You said, noting the gratitude on Dream’s face, as well as the slight annoyance on George’s. 
“Well I see no one better to attend to the King’s safety than you,” Bad said, “You shall go with the party, and Technoblade with you, Sapnap can remain here to take over your day to day duties.” 
The man in question quietly shot you a pleading look, at which you sighed, “With all do respect I think Sapnap could be better severing to the crown if he joined the running party.”
Bad glanced around to the others, looking for any objections before shrugging, “We can find someone else to do the work. So that’ll be you, Technoblade, Sapnap, and we can send the usual scouting party, and Sam shall go with again.” 
~~ The next morning found you suiting up and heading out to the stables to tack up your horse. Techno was already down there, idly chatting with Phil as he readied Carl for the journey, and out in the courtyard you could see Sapnap talking to two men. 
“Good morning, (y/n)!” Phil chirped, waving your direction. 
“Morning Phil.” You moved down the row, reaching out and letting Beckerson nuzzle into your palm. 
After getting your horse cared for and saddled, the rest of the party had headed out of the stables as your partners entered.
George took your hand, “Don’t start any more trouble.” 
“Sounds like your talking to Dream not me.” You chuckled. 
“Hey!” Dream protested. 
“I’m not wrong!” You teased. 
George rolled his eyes, quickly pulling you in for a kiss, “Make things good for me to be out there.” 
“Stay out of trouble.” Dream advised, pulling you away from George to kiss you himself. 
“You underestimate me.” You smirked, grabbing Bekerson’s reigns. 
Dream rolled his eyes as you started to lead the horse out of the stable, calling, “And stay safe!” 
“I’ll see you in five days!” You chuckled, heading out of the stables and quickly mounting your horse, kicking at his sides to catch up with the others.
~~ The last three days had been spent anxiously waiting, and now the journey to the norther board was coming to a close. 
Dream rode alongside the carriage, eyes following the strange trail of smoke on the horizon; something was wrong, he could feel it. 
The quiet, almost calm of the morning was slowly being cut through by a growing noise, and then finally shattered as one of the runners sent ahead to signal their arrival came crashing through the trees looking panicked. 
“What’s going on?” Punz asked.
“They attacked! They broke the ceasefire!” 
Dream’s brain surged with panic as he turned to where George and his advisors were starting to climb out of the carriage asking why they had stopped, “Turn around! It isn’t safe here! Go! Punz! Tommy! Ponk! Get them out of here!” 
Before he could even stop to see if they were following his orders he was rushing forward down the road, urging Spirit to go faster as the road widened into the village. 
Dream was met with nothing but chaos, the royal insignia’s on the tents set up in the field were aflame, and the clashing of swords filled his ears as the royal army and the few commoners who could fought back against the pillaging people. 
 “About time you showed up!” Sapnap yelled from halfway across the field, “We could use some fucking help!” 
“No shit!” Dream yelled back, dismounting and unsheathing his sword. 
Almost immediately another person came barley towards him, throwing him into combat. 
He cut his way across the field, taking down people here and there, still searching the carnage for you. 
Eventually he made it to where Sapnap had just disarmed and knocked out another opponent, “Where are they?” 
His eyes danced around the wreckage, “Could be anywhere, saw ‘em trying to get the townspeople out of the way.” 
Dream cursed, running off the direction of the village, calling you name. 
The fighting continued, the addition of the extra royal guardsmen helping turn the tide of the battle, though Dream still couldn’t locate you on the battle field.
As the remaining invaders began to retreat, and the royal troops beginning to recoop be demanded, “Has anyone seen (y/n)?!”
“Last I saw they were on the ridge sir.” Someone said.
Dream nodded, quickly turning to head the direction they had pointed as they all went back to collecting the villagers from there hiding places.
The little valley seemed all too quiet as Dream climbed toward the ridge, the sounds of another skirmish erupting into the air.
Taking off at a sprint he made it up the hill to find you locked in combat with another warrior.
You panted, throwing up you shield to block another strike from his axe before shoving forward and swing your sword at his spear wielding hand.
He wasn’t excepting this, and the spear clatter out of his hand, the shock on his face giving you enough momentum to keep pushing forward, throwing attack after attack at the man as he edged backward.
You had just managed to shove him to the ground when a cry broke your attention.
“(Y/N)!!”
You turned to see Dream, smiling, words starting to form on your lips as a spear suddenly drove through your chest.
“NO!!!!!” Dream shrieked, charging forward and quickly slashing at the mans throat before turning to where you had fallen in the grass.
“T-that one was your fault.” You mumbled as he did his best to pull your shaking body into his arms.
“I know,” tears flooded his eyes, “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get help.”
You did your best to smile through your fear, “What would George say if he saw you here cuddling me without him? Huh?”
“(Y/n)....”
“Bad time for a joke I guess,” you shaky voice was disrupted by a painful cough wracking your body, “Never really planned on being ran through with a spear this morning.”
Dream had resolved to muteness, watching you life slip away and out of his grasp with a murmured, “I’m sorry.”
~~
“Your highness, news of the boarder war has returned.”
George looked up as Wilbur ushered a scarily calm Technoblade and an all too quiet Dream into the room, “What is it? Where’s (y/n)?”
“Their gone,” Dream sounded all too hollow, “Th- they aren’t coming back.”
George froze and Techno sighed, “I think I’m gonna leave you alone to sort this out. C’mon Wilbur.”
The doors closed slowly behind them as Dream moved closer to the throne, quietly pulling a distraught George into his arms.
“Th- they died in my arms. I- I couldn’t stop it.”
George wipped at silent tears, “We’re going to make them pay.”
A funeral was planned and attended, everyone leaving the King and his Knight space to breath as they remained standing by the grave.
“Tomorrow.” George said with finality, “Tomorrow we make them pay.”
Dream nodded, looking down at the copy of the note that had been sent to the enemy:
‘Holy water cannot stop me now, a thours and armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown, see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down’
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halloweennut · 4 years ago
Text
Break Up Blues
this has been sitting on my drive since August and I only just finished it. Oops. Anyway, post finale, Jitterbug leaving the Hotel and Big Mama. 
Breaking up with Big Mama and leaving the Nexxus Hotel had been one of the hardest things in Jitterbug’s life. But she had been done with the lies, the manipulation, the disregard for life...the fact that Big Mama was still in love with Lou Jitsu and the fact she was so alright with endangering so many lives. Jitterbug sang her last song and left, glaring at Big Mama as she did. It wasn’t until she was halfway downtown did she see the hotel crash. Her gut sank...but she knew everyone she was friends with would be okay. At least...Jitterbug hoped. Repo fortunately hadn’t been caught in the orb, being out of the city on a job, and was there when she knocked on the door to his trailer.  
“Have any room for a fly?” she asked. It was then and only then that tears sprung to her eyes, and Repo was quick to pull her in. 
“Aw fancywings, what happened?” he asked, carefully pushing her down onto a chair. “Who do I have to repo?” 
She told him everything, and made Repo promise not to do anything yet, not unless Big Mama tried anything. 
“At the very least,” Repo said. “You’re staying here until you’re back on your wings, got it? Once you’re all better, you can look into getting a job in the Hidden City or something.”
Jitterbug roughly wiped her cheek and faintly smiled. “Thank you, Repo.”
“Don’t mention. And don’t worry about rent, fancywings,” Repo said, reaching over for the phone receiver. “I own the place and I’m running off grid. City ain’t getting my money. You good with Italian? I don’t have enough groceries for two.”
“That’s perfect.” 
-
Two weeks later, there was another knock at Repo’s door. Repo rolled his eyes, and placed the shop paperwork down and walked over, opening the door. “This is private property and the shop’s closed. Beat it.”
“Rude!” Hypno said. The rest of their little league was with him. 
“Oh shit, sorry guys,” Repo said. “Uh, come in I guess?”
“Thanks mate,” Meatsweats replied, entering with the others. “I suppose you’re wondering why we’re here.”
“Well, yeah,” Repo shrugged. “You guys don’t exactly come over for tea and crumpets.”
“Considering the events a few weeks ago, we all decided that perhaps we should all get together more often,” Hypno explained. “You know, brotherly companionship, not knowing when we may be forced to fight death sports, that all.”
“Exactly!” Warren said. Repo hadn’t even noticed him, despite him being on Hypno’s shoulder. “Hypno almost died!”
“So did I!” 
“So did my brother!” 
Warren only shrugged. “I’m more concerned with him.”
“So what? You guys just came over to hang out in my house?” Repo asked. “If you haven’t noticed, it's a little cramped. And where’s Todd?”
“Todd wasn’t available,” Hypno replied. “And no, we actually were thinking something along the lines of-”
“Guys night!” Ben and Carl exclaimed, snapping their claws for emphasis. 
“And by guys night, we go out, raise some cain,” Meatsweats continued. “Eat, drink, be merry, steal and maim!”
“Come’on, Repo! What do you say?” Hypno asked. Repo shook his head.
“I don’t normally do that brand of skullduggery,” he replied. “Besides, I have a guest over, and I ain’t about to leave her alone.”
“Her?” Meatsweats raised a brow. “I hope we weren’t interrupting anything.”
“What?!” Repo sputtered. “No! She’s in a rough spot right now, and I’m doing her a solid.”
“Who are you even friends with besides us?” Warren asked incredulously. The answer came in the form of Jitterbug appearing, wordlessly walking by them to the fridge. She looked like hell in oversized pajamas and a pair of large headphones as she grabbed a carton of ice cream from the freezer, and high kicked the door closed before disappearing again. “Was that-”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t she in a relationship with the spider woman who kidnapped my Hypno and the rest of these people?”
“Was,” Repo explained. “Broke up with Big Mama because of everything and quit the Hotel. Y’know, before it got demolished.”
“Damn. At least she has good taste in ice cream,” Meatsweats nodded, much to the glare of everyone in the room. “What? It is sad about the situation, but she has taste that I can respect.” 
“She’s barely left the trailer save for that, other than job hunting in the mystic city,” Repo replied. “But the whole thing was a personal blow.” 
“Poor bug,” Ben said. 
“Why don’t we take her along with us?” Hypno said. “Gives all of us a night on the town, avoids the skullduggery you don’t usually do, and gets her to have some fun.” 
Repo considered it. It would be nice to take a break, and Jitterbug definitely needed a night out. “Sure, why not. But only minor, minor crime. ‘Ey Jitters!”
Jitterbug peeked out from the bedroom she had gone into, eyes going wide at the sight of everyone she had just avoided. “Oh! Yes?”
“Come’on fancywings, we’re all going for a night on the town,” Repo said. 
“I don’t know, Repo,” she looked unsure of herself. “I’m not sure-”
Jitterbug yelped as her hands were grabbed, pulling her out into the main room. “Hey! Don’t tug a girl around!”
“Sorry love, but we insist you join us all,” Meatsweats said. “Besides, you’ll class this little party up.” 
“It’ll be fun! We’ll paint the town red and all that,” Hypno encouraged, pulling a ring from his jacket and extending it. He held it over her head and dropped it. As it fell to the floor, Jitterbug found herself dolled up in one of her nicer dresses for going out, hair neat and make-up in order.  “What do you say? You’re already dressed for it.”
“No pressure, Jitterbug,” Repo said. “But it might be more fun than eating ice cream and calling romantic leads liars.” 
“Well...I am dressed for it. Hell, why not!” Jitterbug smiled. There was a group cheer as the group walked in the night, ready to take on the town. 
“So where first? High speed chase downtown? Breaking and entering? Maybe getting into that glitzy place uptown?” The Shell Brothers listed in tandem.
“Le Chateau Mure?” Meatsweats said. “Impossible. It takes months in advance to get in, and we don’t all have cloaking brooches.” 
“Oh, they’re mutant and yokai friendly,” Jitterbug said nonchalantly. “Big Mama and I...we used to go a lot.” 
“Then maybe we should-” Repo started, but Jitterbug continued.
“But they do know my face, and I doubt they would know about the breakup…,” Jitterbug said with a smirk. “This can be my severance package from the Hotel.”
“Oh that’s devilish,” Hypno said. “Let’s do it.” 
Jitterbug was right of course - the maitre d’ recognized her and showed the group to one of the nicest tables amongst the high standing yokai. It was by far the swankiest place Repo had been in besides the former Hotel Nexxus. A waiter dropped off a complimentary bottle of champagne, and Meatsweats took over pouring glasses for them. “Cheers everyone!”
“Cheers!”
Jitterbug sipped her glass, leaning back into the plush velvet of her seat, laughing along as her cohort for the night told stories and caught up on everything they’d miss since they all had last been together. It felt...normal after a few weeks of absolute chaos, and Jitterbug loved it. The champagne was refilled and an extra bottle - or two, or three - were stolen from the bar on their way out, heading towards another hotspot for the group. They walked or drove through New York, passing their pilfered bottles around save for the Meatsweats - alcohol didn’t have much effect on him anymore, and he was the one driving. With each new stop and block driven, Jitterbug felt herself grow lighter. 
“Are all your nights out like this?” she laughed at one point after a run-in with the turtles. They narrowly avoided a brawl with a promise to do something lowkey for a bit. 
“This is the first one,” Warren said. “So I think it’s a pretty good idea of how the rest will be, especially if you can get us into the Mur.”
“I think that might be the last time,” Jitterbug replied. “They’ll all find out soon enough about me and...her, so unless they hire me, I don’t think I’ll be able to get us back in.”
“There are worse places to work,” Hypno said, taking the last champagne bottle from the Shell Brothers. “Besides, that place has ambiance, and far better suited for your talents than the Hotel!”
“You’ve seen my shows?”
“A few, but Repo told us about them,” he replied. “Said you have a very nice voice and are good at dancing. You were being wasted working for that spider.”
“I suppose…,” Jitterbug said softly. 
“Speaking of singing, and since we have to be lowkey,” Ben started to say.
“Why not karaoke? They have a few joints around here and Long Island!” Carl finished. 
“We’re sticking to Manhattan,” Meatsweats said. “I am not wasting my time on the L.I.E.. And I agree to that!”
“You, karaoke?” Repo said. “That sounds a bit wild.”
“I’ll have you know I can sing! Back in my culinary school days, I was in an underground punk band and I was lead!” the former chef bragged. “Now we definitely must go, if only to show you all up!” 
The cashier at the karaoke bar barely batted an eye at them, only taking their payment and handing them the room key. “Bar and kitchen menu are next to the door, bathrooms down the hall.”
“Ah, New York, what a town,” Repo shrugged as they settled in their room. “No one really gives a shit, huh?”
“I cried in Port Authority once,” Carl said. “Literally no one looked at me.” 
“I stepped over a dead rat without blinking,” Warren added. “You know, back when I had legs.”
“I’m a giant pig who runs a food truck,” Meatsweats added, scrolling through the song list. “No doubt, most people in the city have seen weirder.”
“I know I have,” Jitterbug replied. “So Meatsweats, what song are you singing for us this evening?”
“Just wait and see,” he said, pressing a number into the keypad and hitting enter. A loud guitar riff began blaring from the monitor. “Watch and learn.” 
-
By the end of the night, not only had they all learned that Meatsweats could sing, but Jitterbug felt the lightest she had in a very long time. 
           "We have to do this again," Jitterbug happily proclaimed. "I haven't had this much fun in forever!"
           "Agreed," Hypno replied. "Next month sound good everyone?"
            There was a cheer around the van in agreement, even from Repo. Truthfully, he had only been part way into the festivities. He was more concerned about Jitterbug and how she fared. She wasn't a villain like they were, and leaving the Hotel had hurt her more than she let on. But yet, this was the most he had seen her be herself in weeks. A little night of mischief and minor crime and karaoke. 
"And you were worried they would be too much," Jitterbug laughed once they got home. "That was nice."
"Eh, they're an okay lot," Repo smirked. "I don't know about you, but I'm hitting the sack, fancywings. See ya' in the morning."
"Heh, night Bugboy." 
The next morning, Jitterbug was surprised to see two messages on her phone. One from Warren about doing brunch at some point as “us bug mutants have to stick together and all that” which she happily responded with a “yes.” The other was a voicemail from Le Chateau Mure: they had recently, as in the past twelve hours, discovered her real situation with the Hotel Nexxus and Big Mama. But instead of forcing the bill at her, there was instead a job offer for their lounge. 
She had never been so quick to say yes. Her first night singing a few days later had her little mutated cohort in the front row seats on a legitimate claim. She felt her brightest under their lights, happily singing and dancing with a few band members, some of which had followed her once they heard the news. Jitterbug felt herself for the first time in a long time. Not Anais, not the Jitterbug of the Hotel Nexxus on Big Mama’s arm and payroll, just Jitterbug. And she was happy. 
It didn’t take long for Big Mama to hear about Jitterbug’s new venue, and once she had healed enough to walk in on her own feet, secured her reservation. Not her usual table at Mur, no, but one in the back, out of sight from the stage and other patrons. No one was to serve her or offer her anything at the table until Jitterbug had finished her set. As soon as she bowed, all glitter, gold and song, Big Mama slipped away from the table. The bouncers parted from her with a glare, and she wove her way backstage until she came to Jitterbug’s dressing room. 
There was no pause in her hand as she knocked, once again hearing the bug’s voice ring out an allowance for entry. Big Mama opened the door as Jitterbug turned with a grin, and time paused for a moment. Jitterbug stood, her arms crossing over her middle. “I see you’re better now.”
“I see you have a new stagelly,” Big Mama replied. “You certainly owned it.” 
“That’s my job.” 
Silence fell. 
“Why are you here, Big Mama? Going to buy the place and start terrorizing New York for money?”
“Pfft, please. We both saw how that turned out,” Big Mama scoffed. “I lost my hotel and was hospitalized. Not to mention-”
“Not to mention Lou Jitsu almost got killed because of it,” 
“Bugaboo-”
Jitterbug held up a hand to stop her. “I’m not your bugaboo anymore. I can deal with you still having feelings for Lou. Hell, if you had spoken to me about it, I would have been fine with it. It’s Lou Jitsu. I had a crush on him and I barely swing that way. But it was the fact that you hid that from me. Hid how you treated him. How we never officially made anything...official, for us. And then everything that you did to the city…”
She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I can’t do that. Not anymore. I prefer this life now. Don’t get me wrong. I had fun. You gave me a start fresh out of my mutation. But that’s over now.”
“Then I suppose I have really nothing to discuss,” Big Mama replied. 
“I suppose not,” Jitterbug agreed. “I’m...I’m glad you’re better. I hope you enjoyed the show.”
She received no response. Big Mama had left as quickly as she came. Jitterbug decided that it was for the best not to draw anything out further. And yet, she still wore the silver dress she had received, all that time ago after her first show, glittering and proud, for the next set of the night.
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imagineteller1 · 5 years ago
Text
Horror Night
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Warnings: language, gore.
Pairings: Daryl x reader x Negan.
My heart felt heavy on my chest. I choked in every breath I took. I watched, what used to be Abraham, crushed in the floor. Everything was ringing. The tears blinding my vision.
Negan talked but I didn't pay attention, I couldn't. He was in front of Rosita, trying to get her to see the bloody bat of the man she loved. In a second, Daryl took a swing at Negan.
"Daryl! No!" I screamed and ran towards him, my hands extended in an attempt to grab him. Before I could reach him, some of Negan's men were already holding me down as well as Daryl.
"No!" Negan yelled pointing his bat at Daryl. "That- oh," he chuckled. "That is a no no. The whole thing, not one bit of that shit flies here." He now kneeled in front of me. His rough hand was pulling on my chin to look up at him. "Brave little thing here, eh?"
I pulled my face away from his grasp. He stood back up. A blonde man held Daryl's crossbow at his face.
"You want me to kill him? Right here?"
"No!" I screamed. Trashing my body in the men's grip, I kicked around.
"Hey! Hey, what part of staying quiet do you not get?" Negan turned to me with his bat.
"Please, please, don't kill him. I'm begging you." I sobbed and I felt like I couldn't breath. My breath was stuck in my throat. I felt like I was having a panic attack. When I started shaking more violently I knew I was. My limbs felt as if they weren't there. I felt heavy but at the same time lite.
I heard Negan say something and then Daryl was thrown back in line. He approached me and kneeled back down. I tried to push the men away but they just gripped tighter. "I c-an't brea-th." I stuttered.
"What did you say again, darlin'"
"I-I can't br-eath." He signalled his men and I was dropped. My palms were on the ground as I tried to calm down. My chest heaved violently as I gasped for air. I felt like I was drowning.
"Holy fucking shit, she is having an attack." He joked.
New tears reamed down my face and fell to the dirt. This could be it. I looked at Daryl. He was looking at me, I saw a tear flow down his cheek. He tried to walked towards me but he was pushed down.
I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Deep breaths. I could feel the oxygen make its way to my lungs. I heard Daryl's voice telling me to calm down like he had done countless of time, but in difference, he wasn't holding me this time.
After what felt like hours I opened my eyes and felt like I could breathe again.
"Still with us, doll?" Negan asked jokingly. "Both of you are so impulsive, not surprised you two are fucking." He took my face in his hand forcefully.
I glared up at him and he chuckled. "Get her back in line." Like that I was thrown in my back and dragged to where I had been kneeling before.
"Anyway... that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people, first one's free. Then what did I say, I said I would shut that shit down." He had a maniac smile on his face. "No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important." Short silence. "I need you to know me. So, back to it."
In a second Negan's bat connected with Glenn's head. I blinked a few times. Not being able to believe this was really happening. We had just lost two of the strongest men of our group in a couple of minutes. I looked at Maggie and saw her sobbing.
I looked back at Glenn. You could see his skull and one of his eyes was bulging out of its socket.
My heart was beating out of my chest and I could hear every beat thumping.
"Buddy, you still there?" Negan asked mockingly. He muttered something and then exclaimed. "You are trying to speak! But you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out. This is as gross as shit."
"Maggie I-I'll find yo-u." Glenn finally was able to mutter out.
"Oh, hell." Negan spoke. His voice was calm and serious. Like he actually felt sorry. "I can see this is hard, amiga. I am sorry. I truly am. But, I did say..." a smile now played in his lips. "No exceptions." He swinged at Glenn again. I jumped back in place.
No, no, no.
"You bunch of pussies... I'm just getting started. Lucille is thirsty." He kept hitting and hitting. There was nothing left to hit yet he kept swinging his bat. After he got tired he stepped away and joked. "She is a vampire bat."
The only sound was Negan's boot and our cries.
"What? Was the joke that bad?"
Rick looked up from his spot with a trembling yet determined look in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill you."
"What? I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up." Negan mocked.
"Not today... not tomorrow... but I'm gonna kill you."
"Jesus," Negan scoffed. "Simon, what did he have? Knife?"
"He had a hatchet."
"Hatchet?" He smiled.
"An axe."
Negan laughed. "Simon, is my right hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without 'em. A whole pile of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing. Oh, or did I-" he made a clock sound with his tongue.
Rick remained silent. Negan sighed. "Sure, yeah. Give me his axe."
Who I believed was Simon, stepped up with axe in hand and gave it to Negan. He stood up and grabbed Rick by the shoulder. "We'll be right back, maybe Rick will be with me. If not, well we can just turn these people's inside out. I mean, the ones that are left."
With that he shut the trailer's door closed and drove away.
I looked at Daryl. He was shaking. His gunshot wound could get infected with all the trauma his body was going through right now. I went to stand up but was held in place.
"I'm not gonna do anything. You have all of our weapons, what could I do?" I tried to reason with the men.
"You stay on your knees, bitch. Unless you want to end up like your friends over there." He signalled to the bodies that laid on the floor. With a thud I sat back in the ground, pulling my legs to my chest.
--
Hours had passed and the sun had come up when the trailer came back. No one came out for a couple of minutes. The air was full of tension as we hoped to see Rick still alive. When the door finally opened, Rick was pushed to the ground and Negan came out, he dragged Rick back to us.
"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. You even know what that little trip was about?"
Rick remained silence.
"Speak when you're spoken to."
"Okay... okay."
"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way... like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work." He paced around and then kneeled next to Rick. "So... do I give you another chance?"
"Yeah. Yes. Yes."
Patting Rick's shoulder he stood up. "Okay." He chuckled. "All right. And here it is- the grand prize game. What you do now will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads.”
Guns cocked from behind us.
"Good. Now... level with their noses, so if you have to fire..." he imitates an explosion. "It'll be a real mess."
Silence.
"Kid." He said looking at Carl. "Right here." He pointed to the ground beside Rick. Carl was frozen in place. "Kid... now." Carl took slow steps. Negan took of his belt. "You a southpaw?"
"Am I a what?"
"You a lefty?"
"No."
"Good." He smiled as he took Carl's arm and tied the belt around it, cutting the circulation. "That hurt?"
"No."
"Should. It's supposed to." He finished tying the belt. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings." He took Carl's hat off.
Carl did as told. "Simon, you got a pen?"
"Yeah." He threw it at Negan. He took of the cap with his teeth and kneeled next to Carl.
"Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it across the forearm." We all watched in horror as Negan drew a line in Carl's arm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."
"Please. Please. Please don't. Please don't." Rick begged.
"Me?" Negan chuckled. "I ain't doing shit." He stood up. "Ah. Rick, I want you to take your axe... cut of your son's left arm off, right on that line. Now I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die... and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."
"You- you don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." Michonne spoke.
"You understand. Yeah. I'm not sure Rick does." He advertido his attention back to Rick. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice- nothing messy, clean, forty five degrees- give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Rick this needs to happen now- chop, chop- or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."
"Please, we all understand. Rick understands. We all work for you, stop this. You don't need to prove a point because you already did." I tried. This was my family. I wasn't gonna stay quiet and not try anything. My arms pointed at the fallen bodies.
I felt a gun press against the back of my head.
"It can- it can- it can be me." Rick stuttered out. "It can be me. Y-you can do it to me. I c- I can go with- with you."
"No. This is the only way. Rick... pick up the axe." Rick didn't move. "Not making a decision is a big decision." Negan's voice raised. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing." He still didn't move. "Oh, my god." He groaned. "Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting."
"Three!"
"Please." Rick cried out. "Please. It can be me. Please!"
"Two!" He kneeled next to Rick.
"Please, don't do-" Rick sobbed and I looked away.
"This is it."
Rick screamed. I shut my eyes closed. Tears running down my cheeks.
"One!"
"Dad... just do it. Just do it." I heard Carl whisper.
I looked back at the scene.
Rick held the axe high, preparing to cut his son's arm.
"Rick." Negan stopped him. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick nodded hastily. "Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan's voice beamed making everyone jump. "You answer to me. You provide for me."
"Provide for you." Rick answered shakily.
"You belong to me, right?!"
"Right." Rick breathed heavy.
"Right. That... is the look I wanted to see." He stood up and took the axe. "We did it... all of us, together... even the dead ones on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." He sighed. "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake... that you get it now... that you understand how this work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you... that is over now." He chuckled.
There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Ah, Dwight... load him up." He signalled to Daryl who struggled in, who I suppose was Dwight's, arms.
"What are you gonna do to him?" I asked. Trying to sound as strong as I could. Negan turned to me.
"How could I forget about you?" He took long yet calming strides towards me. "You, darlin', are coming with me too."
"Why?" I sounded more panicked than I wanted to.
"Because..." he smiled. "You've got a mouth on you and I really, really like it. Keeps me on my feet. I have a proposal for you..." he waited for my name.
"Lucia."
He smiled and licked his lips. "You hear that, Lucille? They sound similar... okay, Lucia. I have this proposal for you. You come with me, be one of my wives, and I, won't kill another one of your group, for your blabbing mouth. How does that sound, hm?"
Shock was written all over my face. "It's your choice, Lucia. Either you come with me or... I kill another one of your friends. So, what will it be?" He passed his finger along my jawline. I looked at the truck where Daryl was in.
Maybe, if I went with him I could find a way to help Daryl escape. I looked around the group. I wasn't gonna let anyone else die, much less because of my fault.
"Okay." I said. Turning off all my emotions.
"Great." He smiled. "You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together." He licked his lips while scanning my body. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Simon, put her in my truck. I still have some words to say to our new pal Rick."
As Simon grabbed my arm and led me to a truck I looked back and saw Rick watching me. I gave him a slight nod with my head, telling him I had a plan.
I wrote this a some time ago but hadn’t posted it here. Requests are open ❤️
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prettyboyspenceee · 5 years ago
Text
Almost
Request: “Hey! I was wondering if you could write an angsty Reid x reader where they are dating and both are in the BAU. Reader and him are evacuating people from a building with the bomb in it and the second Spencer gets to a safe place from the building, it blows up with the reader supposedly in it. basically very angsty but with a happy end where she survives and they reunite after the explosion 🙏🏻❤️” - @barbarachern​
A/N: YESS. I am loving this concept so I am so excited to write it. I hope you like my interpretation! If this flops, Mr. Scratch wrote it. I also want to thank you guys on all the love for Like Teenagers! Thank you! I used the season 7 finale as inspiration for this. I was rewatching that episode yesterday and I couldn’t resist using it. I also tweaked it a bit, I hope you still like it!
Description: The Reader and Spencer both work at the BAU and it’s always a stressful time when the entire team is out in the field. When the bomb squad doesn’t account for one last bomb, things go terribly wrong. 
Character Appearances: Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Emily Prentiss
OC’s: Captain Seymour, The Joseph Brothers 
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, if I did, Reid would be HAPPY. 
Remember, writing is never perfect!
Warnings: angst (ish)
Female Reader! x Spencer Reid
(Y/N) - Your Name 
(Y/L/N) - Your Last Name
Word Count: 1,381
Posted: September 30th, 2019
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--- 
As soon as you and Spencer got to work you were already out the door again with the rest of the team. The bullpen was filled with Homeland Security, field agents, Metro PD, and just about any law enforcement personnel you could think of. 
“Reid, (Y/L/N), head to the SUVs, we have hostages and multiple bombs at the GreenValley Family Center.” Hotch quickly debriefed you on what was going on as you and the rest of the team rushed downstairs. 
“How did the Unsubs past security?” JJ asked
“They posed as maintenance workers, it gave them easy access inside,” Hotch replied 
You and Spencer shared a look. You both knew something about the day was off, but you couldn’t figure out why. 
--- 
When the team got to the museum you began to figure out your strategy with the bomb squad.
“Captain Seymour, I’m Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid, what can you tell us about what is going on inside?” 
“Not much. 911 calls reported that there was a shot that rang out through the museum, after that, no one could reach them.” He replied with a grim look. You nodded in response and walked back to your team. 
You and Spencer told the team what you learned, “We need to open a line of communication. (Y/L/N), you’re going to take the lead on this while the rest of the team comes up with a plan. Rossi will be here to guide you,” Hotch directed the attention of the team to you. 
You took a deep breath and wrung your hands together. You could see the worry in Spencer’s eyes as you nodded, “Okay. Tell Garcia to forward everything you guys find.” 
As Spencer and the rest of the team left to their respective positions he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. To say the least, he was worried for you. You were his light in the darkness, he thought he would never find someone like that after Maeve. When Spencer found you, he knew that you were his soulmate. 
He knew was that something was different about this case, he just couldn’t figure out what.
--- 
The phone rang twice before someone picked it up on the other end, “Hello? Who is this?” a gruff voice answered the phone. 
“Hello. My name is Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you can call me (Y/N). Whom am I speaking with?” 
“Carl Edgar Joseph. You’re speaking with Carl Edgar Joseph.” You looked up at Rossi quickly, he sent the name to Garcia. You were confused, he had given up his identity too quickly. 
“Alright, Carl. I’m here to help you, I can get you out of this. I just need you to let the hostages go. Send the women and children out first.” 
He scoffed, “Why should I do that?” 
You paused for a minute, “(Y/L/N), his younger brother, Raegan, was shot. Someone inside shot him. Use that as leverage.” You nodded as Rossi fed you the information. 
“Carl, I know Raegan is hurt. I can get him the help he needs but only if you give me what I need.” 
You heard him breathing over the phone and then a deep sigh, “There are 4 bombs. One for each door except for the front. I’ll let them all out,” You heard him take another deep breath, “Help Raegan.” 
You saw Hotch signal to SWAT, the Bomb Squad and your own team to move in. All of the hostages were accounted for as well as the Unsubs. All the bombs Joseph told you about were accounted for and disabled. As the rest of the team evacuated the last of the hostages you did a final sweep of the building. You noticed that as you got further in the building your coms began to turn to static. You weren’t worried though, something about the static calmed you. You took your earpiece out and looked to your left and you paused, you were alone with a ticking clock attached to explosives and no way to contact your team.
---
As Derek brought out Carl Joseph, Spencer noticed something was off about him. Joseph locked eyes with Spencer, he smirked, “One more!” he said, his eyes gleamed with malice and ice. 
Derek watched as Spencer approached Carl, “One more what?” 
He grinned, “One more bomb,” and suddenly everything made sense to Spencer. Carl was a classic narcissist. He shot his brother and played (Y/N). He needed the attention, he needed the recognition, he had been planning this for weeks, maybe months, “Everyone will know my name. You’ll never forget it, Carl Edgar Joseph, the man who killed the Princess of the BAU.” 
Penelope, JJ, Emily, Derek, Rossi, and Hotch all stopped in their tracks. Only they called (Y/N), Princess, it was an inside joke regarding her Halloween costume from one year. It was clear that Carl was watching them. He carefully executed his plan to make sure that is was (Y/N) to open a line of communication, he made sure that she was going to be the last one out. He knew that killing a federal agent that held the team together would get the most recognition. (Y/N) was his endgame. 
Derek pushed Carl into the arms of a Metro PD officer and the rest of the team quickly turned to the family center. A large boom echoed across the streets of Washington D.C. JJ, Emily, Derek, and Hotch rushed to Spencer pulling him back from the explosion. 
“LET ME GO” Spencer yelled. The rest of the team struggled to pull the young doctor back from the flames as they watched the burning building helplessly.
--- 
You knew you didn’t have a lot of time. 30 seconds was on the clock and there was no way you could run back to the front of the building. You couldn’t die, not like this. You hadn't told the team you loved them today, you hadn't said "I love you" to Spencer yet. There were still things for you to do. 
You racked your brain for a solution, but then you remembered the blueprints. 300 feet to your right was an exit that led to the back of the safe zone where the team was. You had a chance. You sprinted to the exit and as soon as you stepped out the door, you were thrown by the blast. 
---
As soon as the flames died down Spencer broke through the hold of his colleagues, "Spencer! You can't just go running in there, we don't have eyes in there!" JJ yelled.
"Like hell, I can't. JJ, what if it was Will? I love (Y/N), I can't lose her, " He saw Emily begin to open her mouth, "Spare me the lecture, Emily. I'm going in." He turned away from his team making his way to the building. 
--- 
“Spence! Stop!” You called out. You were clutching your ribs and you felt some blood trickling down your face, but you were alive. You saw Spencer swivel around and sprint to you.
The rest of the team watched as Spencer pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, “Oh my god, you’re okay. You’re alive,” He whispered in your ear. 
“Spence, you’re hurting me.” Your words were muffled by his Kevlar vest but he let you go. 
He looked at you with tear-filled eyes, “You’re alive. You almost died,” he repeated. 
“Of course I’m alive, Spence. The keyword there was almost, I wasn’t going to die without telling you I loved you.” 
He grinned, “I love you too, (Y/N).” He pressed a hard kiss against your lips, never wanting to let you go. 
The team watched as the couple reunited. They were broken apart by a loud whistle, “Alright lovebirds. Let’s get this Princess to the hospital.” Derek said with a smirk. 
The team let out a collective laugh, all relieved that you were safe and sound. The ambulance made an exception and allowed the team to ride in the back with you, they couldn’t help but smile at the faint whispers of ‘I love you’s” and forehead kisses.
You and Spencer were soulmates. There was no doubt about it.
--- 
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