#actually Carol deserved the world

[theloserarmy]

I really like the idea that the og dads kind of just combined families and finished raising all of their kids as a big extended family after the first season. It makes shipping really funny because I imagine the dads are like “how do I explain that they are cousins and definitely can’t date while also vehemently denying any ties to their dad”

[dumbbitchgalore]

Part 2: Just thinking about old man Price with an erectile dysfunction 💕

Continuation of this

Period hormones cause me to become horny by the weridest shit

Head bobbing up and down as her precum-mixed salivia dribbled down his cock, down his balls and onto the lust-stained bedsheets. He tries his hardest to not give away any signs of pleasure or satisfaction, it'll only rile her up more and cause her to do more work in fulfilling his contentment. He didn't want that. He shouldn't want that. His cherished angel shouldn't have to please him, that is not her job.

John was a man who reveled in the pleasing her and making her cum over and over again. Her cum-drunk expression was a vice he made sure to indulge in, soaking in the portrait of orgasmic gratification on her face as she is rendered speechless. Her breathy pants and soft sighs brought a salacious glimmer to his eyes. Oh his oh so perfect sweetheart.

She takes him all the way to the hilt of his soft cock, gagging slighty. She breathes through her nose to let an sliver of oxgyen to her brain, allowing her to think about how to best to make her love feel the appreciated. At the sound of her slight keck, John tries to push her head away from him. But his darling protests, moving his hand away before it can tangle into her hair and pull her off his cock. She whines. There is no way in hell John is going to stop her from doing what she wants to do and right now she wants to shower his dick with all the love in the world.

She suck his tip before letting go with a 'pop' noise.

"Please let me do this. I wanna make you feel good like how you make me feel good all the time. I want this, John." She mutter softly, nuzzling her cheek against his stupid, fat cock.

Before he can protest, she gives his head a few kitten licks. John gasps, choking back a moan that threaten to escape his mouth. Pressing soft, sweet kissess all over his limp dick, she giggles softly to herself. God, she loved this. Loved him, loved worshipping ever single part of him no matter how well it works. Her love deserves to feel good.

She moans softly as she licks and sucks the tip. She fondales with his balls enjoying how they feel in her hand. Her jaw begins to tire as she suckles his dick. Her eyes glossy, submerged with ecstacy as she looks up at him through her lashes.

John looks down at her. Fuck, she's hot. Hot and hardworking. He feels bad but knows that he can't stop his girl from persuing her ministrations so he lets her continue, no longer protesting.

He throws his head back, covering his eyes with the back of his forearm. He groans softly, singing her praise like the choir of a church caroling wholeheartedly. Shit, this feels good, too good.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He thinks to himself.

A familiar feeling returns, one that he hasn't felt in a long time. His insides coil up, threatening to snap at a moment's notice. She feels it too. His leaky cock on the tip of her tongue, salty yet sureal. She savours the taste as her work comes to fruition.

Snap.

A gutteral moan leaves his mouth as he arches his back. The unknown feel of release washing over his aching body as John's back slightly arches. She feels into too. It invades her mouth, unexpected but welcoming. She moans softly, not caring about the bitter, pungent taste. She did it, she can't believe she actually did it.

Coming down from cloud 9, John looks down at her. She still has her pretty, plump lips wrapped around his head confused as to what happened. Hell, he's surprised too.

She lets go of his cock, her mouth empty as the only thing remains is the remnants of his cum on her tongue. His still limp cock rests against his abdomen, glittering in the leftovers of his orgasm. Her eye's glimmer in wonderment as if she's opened the Pandora Box.

Panting softly, she looks up at him as she wipes her lips. She chuckles softly, giddy with excitement.

"You liar. I thought you said that I couldn't make you come."

(What the hell did I write? lol)

[boltonbritreads]

🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

[beggars-opera]

Hey, so we don't talk enough about A Christmas Carol as being at least a little bit about not continuing a cycle of abuse and neglect, both against others and yourself.

In the book little Scrooge is left languishing over the holidays in a boarding school for some never-explained reason, but it is made very clear that this is miserable and unfair, and that his father is doing this on purpose. His sister specifically comes to tell him that "father is so much kinder now than he used to be, that home's like heaven." This also reflects a bit of Dickens's own childhood when his father went into debtor's prison and little Charlie was forced to support his family working full time in a shoe-blacking factory at the age of 12 (which is also why so many of his books seem to have a moral of "hey, kids are people too and maybe we shouldn't make them work in the mines.")

Whatever family reunion happened after didn't work out, because Scrooge continues believing that no one is coming to save him and pulling himself up by his bootstraps at the detriment of all other social relationships is the only way forward. And the more he lives by that philosophy, the more miserable he gets, because obviously he pushes away anyone who has that hope that he lost. They threaten to break down the walls he's built and teach him that a big pile of money doesn't have to be the only thing that he can rely on, if he'd just let himself be vulnerable and have a relationship with people who care about him, because they're out there even if he's ignoring them.

There is a certain type of person still very much out there who thinks this way. "I've never been happy in my life, so no one else has a right to be either. I was abused in my childhood so it's only fair that everyone else suffer as well." We see this in parents who still try to use corporal punishment, and in wealthy people who ignore the social factors keeping others down and scream that everyone else is just entitled, that only those who suffer and scrape deserve happiness. And they especially hate the people like Fred who represent the past that could have been, who have maintained hope for the future, and seem to be rubbing their optimism in your face, when in reality they're just maintaining hope because it's the only way you can survive.

It's so important for Scrooge to actually see the impact this thinking has on both himself and multiple generations. Rich people have this weird hangup about this story because they think Scrooge is bad because he's rich. He's not, he's bad because he's a horrible person and a miser - he doesn't use his money to better anything, including himself. Salting the earth, everyone suffers here, including him. And he learns that he's going to die old and alone without ever having spent or enjoyed his money, and that his family feels sorry for him, and that the nameless masses of poor people out there that he decries so much are in fact living, breathing people, including tiny disabled kids who don't deserve to suffer just because you decided life isn't fair.

In the end he takes responsibility for actually uplifting the people in the next generation who are trying to make the world a better place and no longer punching down, because it doesn't have to be this way. So many people out there just give up hope because things are hard and they think trying to improve things is a pointless exercise that makes them look dumb. How dare you grow a year older and not an hour richer! How dare you marry for love! That's the only thing more ridiculous than a Merry Christmas! When in reality, there are plenty of people who would love to see them happy if they just had a chance.

It's really sad that, while the language used to describe it has changed, these problems still persist. That people feel so wronged and isolated that they spend their days ensuring everyone else will be as well. That they fail to see their fellow humans as fellow humans who are just as deserving of love and kindness and a roof over their heads. I don't care what time of year it is, we should all be lifting each other up rather than tearing each other down.

[dixons-sunshine]

👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈

I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.

Genre: Fluff, some light angst.

Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”

“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”

You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.

Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”

You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.

You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”

Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”

You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.

“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“It won't work.”

“S'gotta.”

“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.

“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.

“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”

“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”

“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”

Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”

“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.

“She's not coming back with us.”

“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.

Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.

“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.

“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.

Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”

“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.

“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”

That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.

Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.

“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”

Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”

Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.

“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”

Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.

He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.

Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.

“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.

“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”

“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”

A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.

“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”

Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.

“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”

“Because I was with the enemy?”

“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”

“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.

“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”

Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”

“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.

Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.

And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You found him like that?”

Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.

Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”

“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”

A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.

It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.

“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.

You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—

“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”

A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.

“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”

Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.

[brainddeadd]

it is a fic, i just yap first - the fic starts under the cut

reader is a friend of the Greene's but isn't actually a Greene, they took her in

warnings: typical twd violence and angst, daryl angst, fluff

I have this thought that Daryl's not very experienced at anything romantic or sexual.

Like, his mum died before that became a thing for him, his dad was abusive, Merle was abusive. He never had a good role model for this shit.

He's probably only witnessed Merle in crappy bars, high as a fucken kite and drunk, for anything like this.

He's probably heard the stories of being hella rough, rough enough for it to sound like abuse to him - why would he wanna go through that? Or put someone else through that?

He's definitely never felt true, unconditional love (maybe from his mum). Everything always comes with a price for him.

And now he lives in a world where he can't trust anyone and everything is a threat. He's got his found family and that's it.

I genuinely don't think he'd know what to do with romantic feelings.

Sexual, sure. He knows he gets hard, and he's gotta get off. Knows that sometimes someone else can help. Probably fucked a few people and hated it. It was probably Merle getting him a hooker or something, and it was definitely a shit time.

Romantic? The fuck is that? He doesn't know how to do that. How to feel that. He knows what it looks like; Maggie and Glenn. He's not sure it's something he deserves.

So when he meets you, and you're loving him so easily, he has no idea what to do.

The word's gone to shit, everyone's dead and dying, everyone's fearful and sceptical of others, and here you are, welcoming him and his found family to the farm with open arms.

You help nurse Carl back to health after he was shot. Daryl knows Rick needed that from you.

You help look for Sophia, a girl you don't know, for a woman you don't know. You join Daryl on the search, exhausted but refusing to give up.

You help take care of him after Andrea shoots him - and you may have yelled at her a bit for being so stupid (which only makes you more attractive to Daryl).

You help Carol escape when she's cornered by walkers when they take over the farm. Ushering her to Daryl, yelling that you'll be fine, taking off in a separate car.

You ask him to teach you how to use a bow and arrows, knowing it'll come in handy. He does willingly.

You take the cell closest to him in the prison, claiming it's a coincidence, but the others know it’s because you feel safest with him.

You love the baby with your whole heart, he can tell. You cradle her gently, like she's something precious and you're afraid to break her. He almost wonders if you were a mother in the previous world.

You're distraught when he goes off with Merle. Carol tells him how you cried when you found out and the sadness that filled your eyes until he returned. He hates knowing he made you that sad, the he was the cause of your tears. But the light that returns to your eyes tells Carol and Maggie how happy you are.

You show him you love him without even meaning to. It's in the way you always bring him food when he's on watch. The way you are the first to offer to join him on a run. The way you stop the others from hassling him when he wants to be alone. The way you tend to any injuries he may acquire. He can feel your love long before he knows about it.

When you hug him for the first time, his whole world stops. He's just come back from a run, he's been gone longer than he was supposed to, scared the crap out of you and the others. You don't know he's back until you spot him from a distance, getting patched up and fed by Carol, unable to hide his exhaustion. You don't stop to think, not even sure you can think. Your legs have carried you to him and your arms are around him before you can process the movements. Daryl's tense, body having gone stiff at the unexpected contact.

Flushing bright red, you move to let go of him, to hide away for eternity, but he's arms are around you, crushing you to his chest, holding you tightly, face sinking into your neck and his body relaxes. The two of you stay like that for ages, just holding each other closely.

Carol disappears, leaving you to your moment, and you hold him to your body with a hand on the back of his head. He knows then that this feeling in his chest, the one that makes him seek you out just because, is love.

[carlsangel]

DON’T BE SORRY

carl grimes x reader

(carl comforts you.)

tags: angst, fluff.

masterlist here!

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM, DEATH

You used to feel so alone, so empty. Like nothing could fill the pit in your heart where you stored the love from your family. They were everything to you, losing them made you feel endless pain that would never go away. You couldn’t cope with it all, you only felt pure affliction.

The one way you knew how to cope was something you had to hide, at least you felt that way. You didn’t know what to do without your family, you’d felt like somehow it was all your fault. Maybe you could’ve done something, be more useful and actually save them. Maybe it wasn’t helpful to take it out on yourself instead of putting the anger towards what actually killed your family, the walkers. You couldn’t help it though. You truly felt you killed your family.

It occurred to you that maybe the last thing you’d need in this world was to inflict more pain on yourself but it had somehow made you feel better, like you were getting what you deserved. You could get by a while without hurting yourself but occasionally situations would happen that reminded you of everything.

There was one time in particular that really got to you. You were tracking a deer for a while, granted tracking wasn’t your best strong suit but you thought you’d give it a shot. You followed it for hours. You successfully shot it and it ran but it didn’t get far. When you got to it, it was taken down by a swarm of walkers. It just looked too much like when the same thing happened to your family. You burst into tears and ran.

It was a common thing for this to happen but one day, someone saved you from the swarm. He came in with a couple others and they took them down for you and invited you back to their settlement. You almost wanted to say no. You didn’t want to risk caring for more people, losing them and then pay the price for that loss.

The boy who saved you was named Carl, he was your age and he quickly became your best friend, eventually your boyfriend. He managed to make you feel okay about everything. He told you how it wasn’t your fault, that you shouldn’t blame yourself for the death of your family. He was so gentle with the way he treated and loved you. There’s nothing he loved more than gently kissing around your body but you made it a point to him to not kiss your arms, you tended to pull away.

You didn’t want him to know, you were worried of what he’d think of you. He never gave you a reason to believe he’d be angry at you or anything like that but you were still nervous about it. He never wanted to pry as to why you didn’t want him kissing your arms because he respected you enough to not mention it unless you did.

You never planned on telling him, but you didn’t want him to find out either. Unfortunately, when he did find out, it wasn’t on your own terms.

“Hey wake up.” Carl pokes at you while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed (you guys had nightly sleepovers.) You pry your eyes open and look up at him, sort of giving him a mean look for waking you up. “Cranky.” He says, looking down at you with a cute little smile. “Yeah cranky. I’m so sleepy.” You sit up and yawn while he walks around the room. “We have to go check the snares my dad put out yesterday. He’s hoping for rabbits.” Carl explains, grabbing clothes from your closet and tossing them at you.

“Rabbits? For what?” You stand up slowly, stretching out your limbs. “Uhh I think Carol wants to make some stew. I dunno.” He replies briefly. You finish up changing and arm yourself with a handgun as well as a large knife. You both head out to go check the snares. The first two you checked were empty, which made sense since Rick set them out late last night in clearer areas.

When you get to the last snare, the both of you were pleased to find out that it caught a larger rabbit. You unlatch it and pack it away. “Carol’s gonna be excited. I know she’s been wanting to make stew for a while-” You were cut off by the sound of guttural screams coming from somewhere deep in the forest. There was no doubt you’d follow them to help whoever it was.

You and Carl ran through the woods, following the screams with your guns in hand. The screams get louder and louder as you approach and you pray that you’ll be able to save them. When you reach them, it was too late. The man was already on the floor, being ripped to shreds by the undead. Carl was with you, but somehow that didn’t seem to help this time. You remember your family, you couldn’t save this man just like you couldn’t save them. You run off back home, not even taking the walkers out, not waiting for Carl.

You go home in tears, you walk up the stairs not acknowledging anyone else who lived in the house because you simply couldn’t look at anyone. You change your clothes to try and distract from the pain of it all and blink your tears away. You stand for a moment trying to navigate what exactly to do next but your mind strays to one solution. You walk over to your dresser and dig to the bottom where you kept a little box. The little box where you kept razors. Every time Carl looked for clothes for you, you were worried he’d find it. He never did.

You grab the box and contemplate for a moment. Did you want to do this? It’s been a while since you last indulged but something about this time was different. You head over to the bathroom and shut the door. You breathe heavily, thinking about the man. His life ended because you didn’t run fast enough. Your mind was made up.

You sit on the edge of the tub and set the box of razors on the toilet lid. You open it and take one out, looking at it while wiping your tears away. You slide your sleeve down a little and stare at the scars from past times you’d done this before. You go for it, but are interrupted by the sound of voices downstairs. You listen for a moment before putting the blade back up to your arm. Before you know it, Carl bursts into the bathroom.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry-” He looks at you and the blade in your hands as you scramble to put it away and hide the box. “N-no I’m sorry I shouldn’t be…” Your voice trails off as you try to find the words to explain yourself. “Don’t be sorry.” He walks closer to you and kneels so he can see you better. He takes off his hat and places it on the counter. He rests his hands on your knees as he looks at you with pure love.

“Is that why you don’t like the kisses?” He lifts his hand up to wipe the tears from your face. He holds your cheek delicately and you nod into his hand. More tears roll down your face and he leans in closer to kiss them away. “They told me you were upset.” He says, referring to the Alexandrians you lived with. “It was the man, wasn’t it?” He holds your hands, gripping them tightly. You nod once more. He pulls your hand up to kiss them. “That’s not your fault. None of this is your fault okay? I promise you, I’d never lie to you.” He murmurs, kissing your hands between each sentence. You knew he was being honest, he always was. Carl never beat around the bush, but he was never brutally honest, he was always soft with you.

“Can I…?” He gestures to your arms and looks to you for approval. You look at him and hesitate but nod, sniffling a bit. He rolls your sleeve down slowly and he looks at you before leaning down to place soft kisses over your scars. Didn’t leave a single one un-kissed. He pulled the sleeve down your other arm and repeats the process. Every single scar was kissed. He always knew how to make you feel loved. He looks at you and studies your face like he’s done thousands of times before. He leans up to kiss your nose, then your forehead and then your cheek.

Carl leans forward and hugs you tightly. He sits there and tells you how much he loves you over and over.

Now, your heart feels fuller than ever.

a/n: i hope i did this well, i really like it even though i’ve never written a fic like this before. it took me a while to get out bc i really did my research for it to make it best i could. i also had a ton of school stuff to deal with. thank you anon for the request <3 my inbox is nowww empty so if you guys want plsss send some requests.

[vivalas-vega]

will you marry me? // dagger squad x reader

howdy y'all !!! this was a random idea I had well over a year ago that I never actually finished and just found when clearing out my wips and thought it would be a fun little thing to post, so please enjoy the dagger squad and what engagement ring I think they'd pick !!! I didn’t even intend for it to be a recurring thing that the proposals don’t go to plan or are silly but I guess it’s just on brand for them lmao

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

this man is all about the classics - I mean, look at his bronco... he wanted to get you something simple with a bit of a modern twist. he's also a very sentimental man. he'd play it casual all week leading up to date night but surprise you by taking you to where you had your first date, whether that's a restaurant or a bar or the beach, and after the most perfect evening he'd propose with his mom's ring. because he's bradley and incredibly thoughtful, he'd also want you to have a ring that's only yours and I think he'd surprise you with that one randomly -- maybe after celebrating the engagement in bed that night, or the next morning over breakfast. you end up wearing Carole’s ring on your right hand (sometimes putting it around a necklace of hers Bradley also gifted you when you want to keep it extra safe) and your new ring on your left.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Jake is all flash, but that doesn't mean he lacks substance. he scours your pinterest board for weeks and asks all your closest friends for their input, but at the end of the day he trusts himself to get it right because he knows you like the back of his hand. you deserve only the best, and he wants you to park your pretty butt on the beach when he's flying by and to be able to catch a glare from the rock he put on your finger. he'd either propose in the ice cream aisle at the grocery store (which surprises him as much as you) after watching you hem and haw over which flavor to get and deciding to get all three - or, he'd go all out and plan the perfect vacation to a destination that's been on your bucket list and research the most romantic spot in the whole country and really there's no in between.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd

our sweet man of few, but impactful, words. his ring choice and proposal is no different. he wants to get you something beautiful and unique, but neither one of you are known for being frivolous. he picks something modest that shows how well he knows you and how much he loves you. something about him screams christmas proposal - either at his family's snowy farm early in the morning before anyone has a chance to sweep you up in the festivities or in your shared home before heading to Mav and Penny's holiday dinner. either way, its just the two of you wrapped in your own bubble and you tease that Bob should be writing the proposals for hallmark movies because what he says is so perfect. you'd open a suspiciously wrapped gift you think is the worlds lightest pair of shoes but to your shock you find a ring, and Bob always regrets not setting up a camera to capture the priceless look on your face.

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Natasha never thought she was one for marrying until she met you, and she'd definitely get you something beautiful and intricate without sacrificing delicacy. she'd plan the perfect evening in and cook your favorite meal, but absolutely ruin your favorite cookies and while she's flustered and panicking over a sheet of what looks like coal you're just laughing and gazing at her with this dumbstruck look that translates to you're such an idiot and I'm so in love with you and when she catches it she can't help herself and it just flies out, really she nearly yells and you're just standing watching her fumble to get the ring out her pocket not realizing you'd already said yes before you even saw it.

Javy 'Coyote' Machado

Much like Jake, he wants to get you something flashy but he was drawn to this one in particular because the band reminded him of airplane wings and he liked the idea of you not only having a token of his love on your hand every day he's on deployment, but one that has a little piece of his second love too. I think he'd definitely plan a big elaborate proposal but Jake's got a big mouth and didn't know you were at the bar and asks if he popped the question, only to see horror on Javy's face and you standing right behind him so he was really forced into it but of course you said yes because it was chaotic and imperfect and everything you could ever want.

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Mickey would definitely want to get you something a little funky - neither one of you are known for being super traditional, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to have the perfect ring. true to his nature as soon as it's in his possession he's a little too excited to wait to plan something out and while you're all snuggled up watching star wars for the hundreth time he just blurts out that wants to marry you and when you look at him in shock he thinks he's ruined it and offended you by not doing it properly but once you get your wits about you all you can say is 'of course I'll marry you, you big idiot'

Reuben 'Payback' Fitch

I think Reuben leans more towards the classics as well, but with a little something extra. your relationship has always been sweet and fun and lighthearted, and your proposal is exactly the same. he takes you to the putt putt course you had your first date at and proposes in front of the windmill, and you can't keep it together long enough to say yes because he dropped the ring in the hole and even when he retrieves it your 'yes' is hard to decipher around all your laughing.

[ashtheketchum]

A new family Part 2

A/N: Here is the second part! To be honest, I don't know how long this story will last, but hey. If you like it, it's good if the story is long xD

Taglist: @clairealeehelsing

Part 1 here

Warnings: Mention of abuse and rape, mild panic attack, insults (slut, bitch)

Masterlist!

_____________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

The sun was starting to set as I set out to punch the Dixon brothers. I waited at their tents, trying to calm myself. “Which bitch is standing in front of my tent now?” I heard an aggressive voice. Although I had been a little calmer until now, the anger was boiling inside me again.

I looked angrily at the Dixon brothers, who had squirrels and a badger with them. They were probably hunting again, because that was their only job in this camp. Daryl looked at me for a moment before turning his gaze to the floor. "Are you kidding me!?" I just screamed loudly. "How can you scream at an 8 year old so that she runs screaming and crying to her mother!?" I screamed loudly again. Merle laughed briefly while Daryl tensed. Then Merle walked towards me and he threw the dead animals to the ground. He was now standing right in front of me, I could smell his bad breath as well as his sweat.

"Yar 8 year old gurl went after ma brotha! She’s probably just as much of a slut as ya!” Merle's words made me pause for a moment. So (D/N) really didn't listen to me and looked for Daryl. She had probably given him the necklace. I looked at Daryl briefly before pushing Merle away and walking towards him. I held out my hand angrily, he knew exactly what I wanted. "Give it back to me. You don’t deserve it, dirty Dixon.” I said angrily. Daryl looked at me annoyed for a moment before pulling the necklace out of his pocket and throwing it in my face.

"She wa´ ugly anyway." He hissed before ramming into me and walking away. Merle followed his little brother before I went away to cool off. (D/N) was lying in our tent, she was still sniffling and small tears were rolling down her cheeks. I sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug. "Is everything ok, honey?" I whispered quietly. "Mom… why do Merle and Daryl hate us so much…? They remind me of Dad…” Her words made me jump for a moment.

The memories of my ex-husband, her father, came back and I also felt tears in my eyes. "I don't know, honey… I don't know…" I murmured quietly. (D/N)'s father and I knew each other for a long time before we got together. We were actually an inseparable couple, but I got pregnant from him and from then on everything changed. He slept with other women while I had to go through the pregnancy alone, and when (D/N) was born, he beat me and raped me multiple times a day.

(D/N) noticed everything sometimes, especially when her father yelled at me. He wasn't any better to (D/N). He constantly yelled at her and sometimes locked her in her room without giving her anything to eat. When the world ended, we secretly packed a few things before running away. Before that, however, I opened all the doors so that the walkers ate him. I could hear his screams and they still haunt me sometimes, to this day. (D/N) fell asleep after a while while I continued to stay awake, staring into space.

Tears streamed down my face as I had my hand over my mouth so as not to wake (D/N), or anyone else. It was only after several minutes that I calmed down so that I could at least get some sleep. The next morning my eyes were still slightly swollen and reddish from my tears, but I ignored it too. Since (D/N) was used to seeing my eyes like that, she didn't ask. But Lori and Carol noticed. They asked me if everything was okay, but I assured them that I was okay.

That same day, Glenn, Tdog, Andrea, Merle and Morales were sent out to look for new supplies. At least Merle was gone now for a few days, we could just ignore Daryl. (D/N) and I sat together and read a book together. She was getting better and better and I was happy to see that she was enjoying reading. Suddenly I heard someone walking towards us and I immediately looked around. Luckily for me, it was Daryl walking towards us.

I glared at him as he slowly walked towards us. He wanted to kneel down next to (D/N), but I immediately pulled my daughter away from him. "Hey, I didn't yell at yar lil one…" Daryl just grumbled, pissed off. "That's right, Mom…" (D/N) just murmured quietly. I sensed that she wanted to get off me, so I let her. (D/N) sat back down between Daryl and me and continued reading the book.

Daryl looked at her for a moment before raising his hand. (D/N) and I immediately jumped and I pressed her against me protectively. Daryl looked at us in shock for a moment before carefully lowering his hand and gently patting (D/N)'s head. (D/N) and I immediately relaxed again, while Daryl then looked at me quietly. "I wan´ the necklace back…" He then murmured quietly.

For a moment I didn't understand what he meant by that, before I carefully pulled out the necklace from (D/N) and gave it to him. "Thank´…" He just mumbled before he got up and went into the forest. "Why is Daryl so nice, Mom?" (D/N) asked me while stroking her head. "I don't know…" I just mumbled quietly as I watched him go.

We decided not to read any further, instead we went to Dale and she watched the birds with him. I went to Carol and Jacqui's, who were cooking something to eat for tonight. The others came back that same day, but without Merle.

But another man came along. He was wearing a police uniform and looked around uncertainly. But suddenly Carl screamed loudly and he ran towards the man, just like Lori. Carl kept shouting 'Dad!', so it was immediately clear to me who this man was.

I walked uncertainly towards Tdog, who looked at Glenn, who silenced the red car and got a lecture from Dale. "Where is Merle?" I asked. Tdog just looked at me uncertainly before explaining what had happened. Merle was chained to a roof because he wanted to attack Tdog and the others. But the key fell from the handcuffs and he couldn't pick them up.

"I didn't mean to…" Tdog muttered at the end. "It's all okay… Merle is… well, Merle… the only one who won't stay calm is Daryl…" I murmured quietly. Tdog nodded very tensely before I then went to (D/N). (D/N) didn't even ask about Merle, as if she didn't even know he was there. I told her to stay close to me tomorrow because I was afraid of how Daryl would react. You never knew, especially when it came to Merle. Daryl didn't come back until the next day.

Next Chapter!!!

[jadesea33]

I read @9lives2mics post this morning and felt like it pretty much summed up my thoughts and feelings about all of this so I wasn’t going to share what I wrote yesterday. But Shalaka encouraged me to add my voice to the chorus and she’s right: if we want something to change, we need to speak up about it, so here we go.

I’m going to start with something positive: I’m happy that Carol will be confronting some of her past trauma and it’s clear that Melissa is too, based on everything she’s said during promo for the show. This has been the main focus of her comments. I believe she wants to give Carol personal closure and I respect her for that. But I’m at the point where it seems likely to me that she agreed to do the spin-off for Carol. Not Caryl. Not because she doesn’t care about Caryl but because it seems that what happens with Caryl may be beyond her control.

People say we should trust her. And I do. But people also seem to forget that she’s only one woman in a room full of men. She doesn’t get to decide everything (unfortunately, because I’d be 100% on board with THAT show). I imagine it’s more likely she gets to say what she wants for Carol but she’s not going to be able to decide the arc for Caryl on her own. Norman’s made himself wishy-washy enough about it all over the years that I honestly have no idea how he feels about romantic canon but if the showrunner doesn’t want it, it’s not going to happen. And David Zabel has said he doesn’t want it.

And trust me, I get that the source of all this is a clickbait article written by someone who apparently has proven themselves to be anti-Caryl but my feelings are based entirely on the direct quotes from Zabel. I actually didn’t read any of the article except the quotes. So unless he was grossly misquoted or was using the world’s worst deflection tactics, he does not want romantic canon for Caryl. I see no ambiguity in what he said. No room for interpretation.

And not only that, but he wants to set up a Daryl/Isabelle romance that undermines Daryl’s character and his relationship with Carol. And I just can’t tolerate that. Carol is going to cross an entire damn ocean to search for him and what? Find him experiencing “mutual interest” in a relationship that’s “more than friendship” with a manipulative nun he barely knows? Is Daryl even going to be happy Carol’s there? Is he going to show her the love and appreciation she deserves or is he going to be too busy with his “feelings” for another woman? Are we going to have to watch Carol comfort Daryl through his man pain over a forced relationship that never made sense and that took place while Carol was risking her life, battling her claustrophobia and confronting her personal trauma in order to find her “friend”? None of that is anything I have the slightest desire to watch.

I could possibly still give AMC my money without romantic canon. I could potentially watch Carol working through her trauma with the person closest to her in the world by her side if it highlighted their bond in a deep, meaningful way. But the shipbaiting is going too far for me. It disrespects the relationship that Carol and Daryl have shared for the last 14 years and it disrespects the fanbase that wants to tune in to see their bond continue it’s natural course, to see them nurture it and watch it grow.

If AMC wants someone like me to watch this show, they need to find a new showrunner, one who actually understands and respects Carol, Daryl and Caryl. Because it’s clear to me now that David Zabel doesn’t. I know filming has started on S3 but if we get a S4 and beyond, a new showrunner could still potentially clean up the mess that Zabel seems intent on creating.

Okay, if you actually read this far, thank you. And please, I know it can be hard to speak out. It causes me great anxiety to do so, especially when I know that some of my fellow Carylers will not like what I say. I fear some of the friendships I’ve formed in this fandom may be strained now because of differing opinions and that breaks my heart. But ultimately I care too deeply about these characters to remain silent when I see a great disservice being done to them. If you see that disservice too, please speak up about it. Will it make a difference? I don’t know. But we’ll never know if we don’t try. Sending love to you all. ❤️

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E01 - L'âme perdue

i have some thoughts, but before we get to it and explore the episode, i just wanna point out that the writing is what stood out for me. after seasons of mediocre writers and writing on TWD, it felt like a breath of fresh air. that ain't saying much, but it's a big improvement. also the cinematography, plsss!!

i will digress, this will be long, boring and full of spec for s2!!! read more after the jump...

the best part of it for me was Daryl. Daryl is finally using his words, keeping some things close to the vest he ain't no longer wearing, but he is actually speaking up, telling shit how he sees it, being his observant self, and not taking that religious crap bullshit they trying to feed him. he is also done with it all, and his goal is always and will always be getting back home.

"You deserve a happy ending, too." the ep starts with Judith voiceover, which is repeated in Daryl's feverish dream, and once again by Laurent. Carol isn't mentioned directly, but you can feel her presence throughout the episode. it's sort of a quiet energy that hangs in there whenever Daryl mentions he wants to get back home, he needs to use the radio, he needs to get to that possibly active port. and of course, her smiling face in his dream, with one of the last things he said to her "it's not like we are never gonna see each other again."

"witchy shit;" "dead priest and creepy kid," "you've been fucking with me," while putting his finger in Isa's face and storming out to borrow some cool weapons will always be hilarious to me, but it also felt like genuine Daryl is back. this is the Daryl we fell in love with. he is changed by his experiences, but he is still the OBSERVANT dude with the sass and zero tolerance for bullshit. i like this Daryl, so i will thank Zabel and Norman for bringing him back to us!

NOW let's get to the spec: i think the first episode tells us all we need to know about what is really set to happen, it's so in your face, you may not even notice and just assume they are talking metaphorically - i'm talking about the nuns, the nest, the kid, the whole conspiracy you shouldn't see coming.

for some reason it will probably never be clear, they think Daryl is the one, the messenger to deliver the new Messiah, and he's got an important role delivering the kid to the Nest, like he is the only one who can do it. i mean Isabelle watched Daryl fight and lose, and now she thinks he's Messiah's protector. PLEASE, bitch! maybe he is chosen simply because he is American, he made it across the Ocean, he must be special??? ok, i'll buy that.

now when Mother is dying she agrees Daryl is the one (to protect Laurent) and says "reasons are everywhere." YES, there's a reason Daryl had to come back to protect the kid, there's a reason he doesn't get on that boat to return home, too - and that reason is CAROL is coming. he cannot leave, she's coming to him, and i believe that TOGETHER they are the ones supposed to save Laurent.

WHY Carol, you ask? Daryl just may be to close to the Nest, their people to see them for who they are - some sort of cult who believes "the kid is the cure for a sick world," Mother's words. but how are they dangerous??

they literally tell you, if you're listening. the monk, possibly Losang, says the kid is special, says the kid is the NEW Messiah. Isabelle tells Daryl they need to take the kid there cause he needs safety, teaching and nurturing UNTIL he is ready. ready for what, Daryl asks. ready to be the new Messiah and lead the REVIVAL of humanity.

now Laurent said they had walker!Father Jean there because they were waiting for him to rise again. say what, kiddo? but Father can't rise again, cause he ain't special, he ain't the new Messiah. so there you go, i think the Nest, they're planning to turn Laurent and wait for him to RISE again (be the cure) with help from praying and poetry. maybe the good guys ain't so good.

and this is exactly why the kid is also valuable to Genet. perhaps she also wants to test whether the kid is special or not, knowing his history.

i can see Carol making it to France and figuring out their nefarious plans in like the first 5 mins. and that's why she needs to come to help save Laurent. that would pretty much bring their story full circle, and allow them to deal with the guilt and the trauma of not being able to safe loved ones.

[emeryhiro]

What are your thoughts about the whole bethyl thing? I personally saw it more as Daryl finding hope and light when he was in a place of deep despair - she showed him that there's still good to be seen in the world. And so it was a major loss to him personally when she died. Plus she helped him process part of his past trauma.

But I've seen Norman Reedus and Greg Nicotero say that while romance wasn't scripted, there was a taste of it in the air when it came to acting choices. I hate that idea bc she was a teenager and it makes me feel less good about Daryl. I guess I'd hope that if he started catching some feelings "he didn't understand" (as NR puts it), then he would see that they're too far apart in other ways for it to go beyond a father/daughter big brother/little sister sort of bond. What do you think?

Hey Anon!

Thank you for your questions 😊 I'm sorry it took me some time to respond. I just wanted to be careful with what I say and how I explain my opinion since the last thing I want to do is disregard or disrespect anyone else's opinions on the topic.

I agree with you. I always saw that the reason Daryl grew to care so much for Beth was because she gave him hope and didn't allow him to shut off from the world after he thought he'd lost everything and everyone that mattered to him. This ultimately made him feel like he owed her because she saved him, maybe not in the literal sense, but definitely mentally. Her persistence ultimately leads him to finding everyone again.

Only hours before having to be on the run with Beth, Rick had told Daryl about how he'd sent Carol away for killing Karen and David, and we saw how defeated that made Daryl feel. Realising that Carol had to shoulder that responsibility on her own and that he wasn't able to be there to stand up for her put him in a really bad place mentally.

This guilt was then compounded by the governor returning to the prison and killing Hershel infront of everyone, and the guilt that Daryl felt for giving up his search for Governor, which in his mind was the reason Hershel died and they lost the prison.

So all these things combined meant that Daryl felt responsible for EVERYTHING that had just happened TO EVERYONE. And no one was there to help him sholder that pain and responsibility.

Ultimetly his instincts kick in, all the walls that he'd slowly been breaking down come right back up, and he starts to go cold again just to numb himself from everything he's feeling.

And this is where Beth came in. Firstly, her innocence and optimism was the only thing stopping Daryl from completely shutting off from the world. She kept reminding him that the other's could have made it and that if they got out then odds are others must have as well. And secondly, she kept him busy, she was something that needed his protection and that gave him porpose and a reason to keep going.

After Beth gets taken, Daryl ends up with The Claimers, who he thinks are exactly the type of people he deserves to be around, because (in his mind) he can't seem to be capable of keeping and protecting anything good that comes his away, but by some miracle he's reunited with Rick, Carl and Michonne again, and this is where he realises that Beth was right, and if Rick and co have made it then it probably means others have as well.

I think this moment above was the beginning of Daryl starting to believe that he has value again. Rick's words begin to soften him again, but even after reuniting with almost everyone again, we don't actually see Daryl's guard come down until this moment below.

Every single shield/wall he'd been putting up until now is instantly shattered. He's completely exposed in this moment. His mind and body take a few seconds to register what his eyes are seeing and what his heart is feeling, and he's instantly running to Carol and into her arms without any other thought. This is the moment we can get a true reading of his feelings.

Regarding how he felt for Beth...

Yes, I think there may have been some confusion from Daryl's side about what he was feeling for Beth, just like how Norman has described it previously; he cared for Beth, she was nice to him, and that was so rare in his life that he misread the whole situation and couldn't interpret what he was actually feeling. In my opinion, there was no romantic feeling or intent on either side; they were both just navigating a new form of friendship that they'd never experienced before. And if I had to, I'd compare his relationship with Beth to his relationship with Lydia. To put it very simply, he felt responsible for protecting these young girls who, at the time, had no one else on their side, and ultimately, both girls saved him in return and looked up to him as a role model.

~~~~

Thanks again for the questions 🩵 I really hope I did this justice because my main goal is to keep my blog a positive place for everyone.

I know there are many varying opinions on this topic, but I'm glad I got the chance to share mine, and I just wanted to once again say that this is my opinion and not meant to invalidate anyone else's 🩵

[dancingtotuyo]

Kryptonite | Dave York x Reader | One Shot

Rating: EXPLICIT/Mature

Summary: Running into Dave York changes your life and unleashes a new part of yourself.

Inspired by Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down

Tags: dark!Dave York, infidelity, Germany, song fic

Warnings: infidelity, violence and descriptions of violence, death (not Dave or reader), descriptions of blood, murder, self defense, explicit smut (p in v), oral sex (both m & f receiving), heavy groping, choking, smacking/hitting in a sexual manner, knife play, power dynamics, use of “daddy” in a sexual manner (minimal), consensual sex, possible dub con, cream pie

Notes: I wrote this one for the LOML @janaispunk for Christmas 🫶, though you won’t find it filled with Christmas festivities! Huge shout out to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for listening to my ideas, reading through it, and being an overall huge encourager!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PAY EXTRA ATTENTION TO WARNINGS ON THIS ONE

Words: 7160

THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND DARK THEMES. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR THOSE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

“I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind.”

Dave York isn’t a bad guy. If one were to give him a chance, he would explain how he’s actually one of the good guys. He’s simply standing up for those who have been wronged by the fucked up system that abandoned the ones who do the dirty work. It’s all conjecture. How he rationalizes it all away. How he lets himself sleep at night, and go home to his wife and beautiful daughters. He does this for them. He isn’t a bad guy.

Yet, even he starts to see through his bullshit. He won’t admit it, but it’s getting harder to sleep at night. Tonight is one of those nights. That’s how he finds himself wandering the streets of a German city he can’t remember the name of.

The air is just verging on chilly, the breeze whipping at his typically well-kempt hair. He usually keeps to the shadows when he’s managing his side business, worried about being picked up on a camera, but it’s late now. He keeps out of the street lights, the stars shielded by the light pollution.

He inhales deeply. This time tomorrow he’ll be on a flight back to the States and slide into bed next to his wife. He’ll wake up, make lunch for the girls, and take them to school. The perfect all-American family. Dave loves them. His girls are his world. He is doing this for them. Every smile and giggle makes this all worth it. Alice and Molly deserve the world. Sometimes, he wonders if his wife knows. Carol hasn’t said anything, but sometimes he catches her just staring at him. Logic says she just loves him. How many times early on in their life together had he done the same thing? How long has it been since he looked at her with that awe?

If he’s honest, Dave doesn’t give his marriage much thought anymore. It’s something that’s just there like two planets orbiting each other but never intersecting. It’s something that’s just part of the persona of Dave York. The version of him his friends and family know. He is starting to wonder if that man still exists. He’s found himself feeling freer during his “work trips” than he does at home.

If it weren’t for his girls…

Dave can’t finish the thought as he collides with a woman in a blue dress and billowing feather boas wrapped around her neck. You.

“Oh shit!” Dave’s hands shoot out, steadying your form, one on each shoulder.

You let out a soft snort quickly covering it with a giggle. “Oh my god.” You try to sober but fail before another giggle takes over. You buzz with the carefree energy of someone a couple drinks into the evening but not wasted.

Any words forming in Dave’s head die there. Your eyes sparkle with mischief. Your smile leaves him stunned. He’s seen his fair share of women even as a married man, but never crossed the boundary of infidelity. Dave doesn’t label what is about to happen as infidelity because right now he isn’t Dave York from Arlington, Virginia, father to two and husband. Right now, he’s Dave York private gun for hire, or Patrick Smith born in Pennsylvania if you looked at his passport.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Dave’s hands don’t move from your shoulders. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Dave flashes a smile, the same one he used to pick up Carol years ago, but she’s the furthest thing from his mind right now. “I should be more aware of my surroundings. Especially with such a beautiful woman about.”

Your cheeks flush with heat. He has a sneaking suspicion that it’s not from the alcohol in your system. Dave has never been above sweet-talking to get his way during his time with the agency. “You’re American.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Dave winks. You laugh. Dave swears he could listen to that sound every day if given the chance. “But are you with anyone? It’s late. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you out here all alone.”

You tilt your head to the side, life glowing in your eyes. Whether you’re always like this or it’s all alcohol-induced, Dave doesn’t know, but he wants to find out. He needs to know.

“And I’m supposed to trust you, Mr. America.”

He chuckles, looking up at the sky for a moment before bringing his gaze back to you. He can’t stop taking you in. You feel like a breath of fresh air in his stifling life. He smiles, the first time he’s felt fully himself in possibly years. “My name is Dave.”

You glance between his hand and his face, sussing out if he is trustworthy. He seems so, comes across as genuine. He’s a bit older than you, but handsome nonetheless with big brown eyes and the sincerity of a well-raised child.

You inhale deeply, choosing to be a little wreckless for once and jump head first into something. What’s the worst that could happen? You take his hand.

“I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon.”

It’s probably a stupid choice, but Dave gives you his number. His real number. He doesn't have enough time to see you again before he leaves Germany and he isn’t ready to let this go yet. He escorts you safely to your apartment, chatting idly over the 10-minute walk and the 30 minutes you spend on the front stoop. As he goes to leave, you stand on tiptoes, pressing your lips against his. In return, he pushes you against the front door, hands roaming up your sternum. You giggle at him like a smitten schoolgirl and hand him your phone.

Dave has a second number. He could’ve given you that one. He probably should have, but he wants easier access. He risks it. Dave is not a careless man, but he leans into the easiness of it in the moment. He kisses you again before leaving, much more chastely this time. He promises to see you next time he’s in town. He tells you he does business in Germany often. It won’t be long.

His veins buzzed with electricity the whole walk back to his apartment, his body alive in a way that feels almost supernatural. As he crosses the threshold, his phone pings with a text from an unknown number. Dave knows who it is before he looks at the text.

Over the next two weeks, Dave finds himself instantly reaching for his phone with each ping. The time difference is a pain in the ass but sometimes works in Dave’s favor. Like when Carol is sound asleep and you’re wide awake across the sea.

When the call comes through from a contact that they’re ready to move in on a target in Germany, Dave almost jumps up in celebration. He’s never hit the tarmac with his bags packed so fast. He tacks on a couple extra days to visit you.

Those extra days can’t come soon enough. He always prides himself on his ability to compartmentalize. He can tune out the rest of the world, get a job done with the precision of the assassin he is, and return to life as if nothing happened, but this time, he finds himself rushing through the process, eager to get to the finish line, eager to get to you.

However, when the night of the hit comes, he slips right into Dave York The Killer, cold, heartless, robotic. The crew is smaller this trip, the target not as high profile, but still a big payout. He forces himself to stay steady, forces himself not to speed through his progressions. The team doesn’t notice a difference in him. He takes that as a good sign. The target is asleep, alone, thank god.

Dave slides the knife into the victim’s chest. He’s lying if he says he doesn’t find a particular beauty in it. The firm pressure, the slice of the knife, the crimson blood. It’s always a rush, the planning, the practice, the kill, and Dave enjoys it all. This particular hit sends an extra rush of pleasure through his veins.

He takes the train to get to you, fighting the urge to show up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. Dave York is not a patient man, but he somehow manages, pacing his hotel room still as he buzzes with the high of the night’s hit and the excitement of seeing you in the morning. You recommended meeting at a small cafe, but as Dave lays awake with the sun peeking through the curtains, he decides to surprise you at the apartment.

Dave has to force himself not to rush, which seems to be becoming a theme with him. He makes himself a cup of coffee in the hotel room and sits down drinking every drop until he can’t stand to wait any longer, leaving his hotel 30 minutes before he needs to.

Dave could’ve taken time to enjoy the city in daylight. He spends so much of his time in these destinations under the cover of darkness, missing the beauty, but he doesn't. He wants to believe he keeps to his training, keeping an eye out for someone following him and staying out of the view of cameras, but the truth is, he’s completely unaware of it all. His sole purpose is to get to you.

When your apartment building comes into view, he finally slows, aware of how early he is. Hell, he’s supposed to meet you there.

One of your curtains is open, giving him a faraway view into your apartment. Dave has fully accepted that he’s verging into creep territory, but he doesn’t care. It’s been two weeks since he’s laid eyes on you. That’s two weeks too long for him.

He holds his breath, waiting in anticipation for a glimpse of you, patience dwindling within a few minutes of waiting. The anticipation grows into anxiety. Did he come to the wrong building? That’s impossible. Dave never forgets places, even if he did, he would never forget yours. Are you home? Did you forget? He studies the window searching for any evidence of life. Has something happened to you? Oh god, has someone connected the two of you? Figured out his whole facade? He has half a mind to break down the door and go in guns blazing.

His phone pings. It’s the only thing that could break his concentration. Your name pops up, granting him instant relief.

See you in 20?

He smiles, glancing back up toward the window. You are okay. Everything is okay because Dave is a smart man. He knows how to cover his tracks, and you are a sacred treasure he wants to keep all to himself. He will hide you away, protect you from it all.

He catches the subtle flutter of the curtains. The world around him becomes nonexistent as his full attention is pulled toward the window. She moves into view, head whipping around as you search for a specific item. He smiles, all of the anxiety leaving his body.

Instead of responding via text, he hits the call button. The dial tone plays against his ear. She moves out of view, no doubt searching for her cell.

“Hello?”

A smile overtakes his face. Dave can’t remember the last time one did so effortlessly. “Look out your window, Darling.”

His voice sits low in his chest, sending shivers through your body. You pull back the curtain. Dave waves down below. “Are you stalking me now?”

“It’s not stalking if you showed me where you live.”

You bite back your smile, heat gathering in your cheeks. “We were supposed to meet there.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

“Give me two minutes.” You say and the line goes dead.

Dave watches you zip away from the window. The swinging of the curtains is the only indication you were ever there. His chest tightens as he waits. Dave York considers himself a patient man, but he checks his watch for the 5th time in two minutes.

Then your door swings open. You come barreling toward him, a smile plastered to your face. It’s contagious as Dave chuckles, spinning you around like an episode of The Bachelor. His lips are warm against your cheek. “I’ve missed you, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine as your feet plant on the ground. Dave’s warm brown eyes meet yours. “How can you miss someone you’ve hardly seen?”

“How can someone not miss you?” He laughs, fingers weaving with yours.

“You lie, Dave.”

“I could never lie to you.” He winks.

Dave holds your hand all the way to the cafe. He pays for your meal. He’s engaging, charming, making conversation, desperate to know everything he can about you. You’ve never felt such intention from another person.

After the cafe, you walk through town, hand in hand in broad daylight. The conversation continues to flow as naturally as a river. Dave is captivated. There’s no other word for it. He wants you. He never wants to leave. He thinks he may need you for survival.

You steer your steps toward your apartment. There’s a time and a place for subtlety. Today is not that. Dave picks up on it, catching the dilation of your pupils, feeling the shift between you.

But when you make it to the door, Dave plays the gentleman, asking when he can see you again. You cut him off with a kiss, tongue quickly delving into his mouth. His large hands plant solidly on your hips. You pull him inside. Dave remains respectful, but commanding. You eagerly submit to him. He stays the night.

“After all I knew it had to be something to do with you.”

Dave is losing it. One might argue that’s a bad thing. He’s not so sure as his mind is overrun with flashes of you. He’s quick to check his phone each time it dings. He knows better than to assign you a specific tone, but he wants to, even knows which one he would choose.

His team is building quite the reputation in the gun for hire business. They’re turning down jobs, having to play the cautious game of balancing their time between murder and families. They can’t arouse suspicions. They take turns staying stateside, sending in different crews depending on the job and need. Dave accepts every job within a quick train ride of you. He goes on each one. Sometimes it’s just him. Those are the easiest. He doesn’t even need to tell the team. It makes it easy to slip in, add more red to his ledger, and run to you with his hands dripping, metaphorically of course.

He can never stay more than the weekend, usually no more than a night, but you take every moment. He’s a drug you crave, an addiction you can’t kick. In fact, you don’t want to. It doesn’t matter if you never get more than a stolen night here and there, you’ll take whatever you can get running your hands over his toned muscles, tracing the scars littered over his body, some new and red, some old and faded.

It gives him an air of danger that sends a rush through you each time, like there’s darkness embedded in each scar and it seeps into you. The feeling should unnerve you. It doesn’t.

You want to ask, but you bite your tongue. They seem almost glaring compared to the person you know. Dave is sweet and gentle. The most violence you’ve seen in him is the intense fly hunt you went on last weekend as it buzzed intently around the two of you on the couch. You wonder about the stories behind each nonetheless. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

He leaves again. He always does with the promise of returning soon. He can’t give you a date. He never can. His phone rings as he walks out the door. You catch the flash of a couple on his screen and a woman’s name drops from his lips. He doesn’t know you see it. Carol.

“But still your secrets I will keep”

You’re drenched. Sweat gathers across your naked skin. Dave thrusts into your dripping pussy, cock soaked in your juices. Your moans marry together, echoing off the walls of your apartment at 2 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon.

You called out of work when he appeared on your doorstep without a warning. He seemed broody, crashing his lips onto yours with more force than you were used to, setting your body ablaze in a new way.

Dave’s hips snap into yours with greater force than usual, his grip a little tighter, but it doesn’t hurt. Not how you expect it to. You like it, this rough side, the way his large hand pins both your arms to the mattress. “You’re taking me so good, Darling. Like a good little girl.”

His words strike a chord within you. Your walls tighten around him. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers run through your sopping folds, flicking at your clit with skill and precision. Your back arches. You feel like you need to crawl out of your skin. “I’m almost there.”

“I know, baby.” He keeps pace, pushing you closer and closer.

The invisible line snaps as waves of pleasure roll over your body. Dave keeps going, so close to his own release. He’s relentless, prolonging your own orgasm.

“I want to finish inside you. Fill you up like a dirty little whore.” Your cunt clenches around him. You’re not sure why his words affect you the way they do, but you love it. He moans. “Please, Darling.”

“Yes,” You hiss, feeling as if your orgasm has started over. “Please, fill me up.”

“Fuck!” Dave thrusts into you. Once. Twice. And then he buries himself into you, filling you with every drop he has.

Once the high settles to a mild thrum and you’ve cleaned up, you sit on the bed, fresh sheets below you, watching Dave as he gathers his things off your dresser. The sex was different this time, good, mind altering.

Dave has yet to put a shirt on. There’s a scar along his back that disappears beneath the waistband on his jeans. You’ve seen it before. You know all his scars, and you’re gathering his secrets too.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” Dave says, back still turned to you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he turns to you, with worried eyes. You saw a piece of him today that no one has seen before. Of that, you have no doubt.

“No, I liked it.” A small smirk quirks your lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to trying some new things.” Heat pools in your belly again. That same darkness flashes in Dave’s eyes. You want to pull it out and learn it.

He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

He pulls on his shirt, turning his phone back on. Your heart drops, popping the bubble. “You can’t stay.”

Dave sighs. You catch the guilt hanging off of him. “I’m sorry, Darling.”

“It’s okay…”

Dave bites his lip. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I-”

“I know you’re married.” It rolls off your lips without a second thought. You’re not sure where it comes from.

Dave’s face pales, tongue going dry as sandpaper. “Darling-”

“And I don’t care.”

The color fills his face again as he steps over to you. “How do you know?”

You shrug, laying back on the bed. “She called you when you were leaving last time. I did my research, Dave York.”

Dave isn’t sure what to think. In his line of work, it’s scary to know you found him on the internet. It’s a safety issue. If something ever happened to Molly and Alice… but he’s trusted you with much more than anyone else.

“You mean it? You don’t care?” He searches your eyes for any doubt, but finds none.

“You’re the one traveling across the ocean to see me. I also think you’re not just ‘working for the government’.”

There’s a deep growl low in his throat. He oozes evil like your favorite book to movie villain, sending shivers through your body. He cups your neck, using force to pull your lips to his. It’s hot and needy like he didn’t just spend the afternoon buried inside of you. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth, fighting with yours. He grabs your ass kneading it in his palms.

Then, he pulls away, voice gravely in your ear. “One of these days I’m going to tell you every single evil thing I’ve done, and you’re going to like it.”

You gasp, toes curling. He keeps eye contact with you, searching for any sign that you might reject him for it. You don’t ask. You don’t scoff. You believe him. You’ve seen the slivers of evil before, felt them. You’re beginning to wonder if they’ve seeped into you too.

Then he’s gone, disappearing like a ghost.

“I picked you up and put you back on solid ground.”

Adrenaline pumps through your veins. Your heart pounds in your ear. You can’t tell much in the dark, except there’s a man in your apartment, clad in black, and it’s not Dave.

You clutch the kitchen knife to your chest, thankful for Dave’s obsession with keeping things sharp. His boots are steady on your hardwood floors, leaving you to wonder if you’re safe huddled in the corner, or if you should sneak up behind him. Dave taught you to attack only if you are sure you can land a debilitating blow by surprise. You’re not a trained fighter. You’re not an assassin. You’re pretty sure Dave is.

Then, you see your chance. A small opportunity where you know you’ll be hidden in the darkness, not exposed by the open window. You know which floor boards to avoid.

You expect it to go by in a blur, but your mind feels clear. The exposed point on his neck calls to you like a beacon. The artery. He’ll bleed out before he knows what’s happening. Dave’s voice echoes in your head.

Your knife sinks into his neck, slicing skin and tissue like it’s softened butter. You pull the knife out, it drips with crimson blood. He tumbles forward, your lamp shattering into a million tiny pieces as he falls forward.

“You bitch!” He manages to his feet, blood spurting out of his neck. He tries to cover it with his hand, but he’s already losing color in his face. He stumbles toward you. You easily step out of his path, sinking the knife into his chest cavity. It’s more difficult, but you know when you hit his lung.

You watch him fall to the floor, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon as he coughs and sputters. He’s trying to speak, but can’t. You cock your head to the side, watching it happen, watching the life drain from his eyes, listening to his final breaths. You did that. You took down a man bigger than yourself with two quick blows, without hesitation.

You can feel the thick, red blood dripping off your fingers, soaking into your clothes.Your chest heaves. The knife clatters to the floor. You turn your hands over. You should want this off of you, scratching at the skin to remove it. Instead, you just stare in awe.

Dave appears, heart racing as he takes in the scene. He was gone for only a few hours. A quick job in a neighboring town. “Darling?”

You don’t respond, still inspecting your coated hands. He puts a hand on your shoulder, desperate to know that you’re okay. You jump, eyes blow wide.

“What happened?”

“I don't know. I woke up and he was here… I just- I did what you taught me.”

Your eyes focus on him. He’s in weird clothes- tactical gear. He probably killed someone tonight too.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes snap back down to your hands. Are you okay? You don’t remember getting hit or knocked over, just the steel blade sinking into flesh over and over and over.

“Darling, look at me!” His hand wraps around your neck and your back hits the wall.

Your eyes snap to him. Your heavy breaths mingle together in the deafening silence that coats your apartment. His eyes are dark. Darker than you ever remember seeing them. You think, maybe, there’s a hint of cruelty floating in them.

“You’re okay.” His eyes scan over you to assure himself as well. He reminds himself that blood is not yours.

Your eyes drift back toward the body. The body that used to house a person with a life and family and-

“Look at me.” Dave’s voice is commanding, forcing obedience. The other side of him is coming out. This is not the Dave you know. It’s the one you’ve caught glimpses of. The one he told you about. This Dave is a monster. A monster you should run from.

“You did nothing wrong. He would’ve killed you.” His hand presses into your neck again. “You did the right thing.”

You thought this moment would break you, losing your Dave, but this Dave is yours too. You thought the monster would scare you. It’s everything you’ve ever stood against, but you want the monster.

A thrill shoots through you, unlocking a deep urge. The world should be blurry, hazing like the TV shows when someone experiences a trauma, but it’s buzzing around you instead. Your senses feel heightened.

Dave says your name. You look up at him. Time stands still. He knows you know. It’s a question of if you will accept it. You shouldn’t. You’re too good for him. He shouldn’t tarnish you, but he catches that look. It’s everything he feels after a kill. The adrenaline rush, the buzz of life through your veins. Maybe he didn’t tarnish you. Maybe he unlocked something in you. Your bloodied hands tangle in his thick hair as he surges forward lips colliding with yours.

This is wrong, so wrong. Another man’s blood is literally on your hands as they tangle in Dave’s hair. You should be disgusted with yourself. This is wicked. You’ve run from the wickedness your entire life. Now you feel like you should have embraced it. He bites your lip, so hard there’s a metallic taste in your mouth. It only spurs you on. A familiar ache grows in your core. Your teeth nash against his, meeting each of his tortuous movements.

His hand squeezes your neck just enough to make your head go dizzy. You should hate this. You should despise this, but your cunt clenches again. “You like that don’t you?”

He loosens his hold, the blood rushing back quickly. It’s a new rush, crashing over the edges of your heightened senses. You feel as if every nerve ending in your body is on fire and you never want it to stop.

His rough voice presses to your ear as he caresses your exposed neck reminding you how fragile your own life is. “The little slut likes when I get rough.”

You whimper at his words, your underwear growing wetter with each passing second. His knee presses between your thigh, granting some tension to your aching core. You move your hips against it. “Not so fast, Darling.” He tightens his grip on your neck, pressing you further against the wall. “You think just because you killed him you’re in charge now?”

Another whimper falls from your lips. An involuntary tear seascapes the corner of your eyes, beginning its descent. Dave’s eyes flicker to it, head cocking to the side. His eyes look different- wild verging on insane. You should be scared, but it’s still Dave. You trust him. Then his tongue is against your cheek, wiping it away with a long, slow swipe. Your nipples pearl under your thin nightshirt.

He whispers in your ear. “I'm in charge. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“Good.”

He produces a knife out of thin air. It’s one you’ve seen before. He’s sharpened it at your kitchen counter. He brushes the tip along your collarbone. Your eyes track its every movement. It’s not enough to cut you, but enough that you can feel how sharp it is. Your heart thuds harder, but your hips move against his knee of their own accord.

He clicks his tongue, forcing the knife down in a single swift movement. You cry out, expecting to feel pain, only to find your chest exposed and your nightshirt torn down the middle. He hand gropes your breast, squeezing it like a stress ball. A gasp falls from your lips as his finger runs over your nipple.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

By your neck, he leads you in front of him to the bathroom. He kicks the door shut, pressing you against it. He produces the knife again, running it through your pajama shorts. The scraps fall to the floor, leaving you in the delicate lace pair of underwear you wore in anticipation of Dave’s arrival.

His tongue clicks appreciatively. The tip of the knife traces over the lace. You whimper, eyes falling closed. He falls to his knees.

“So pretty.” Dave presses his mouth to your clothes cunt. He works his tongue over the thin fabric, pulling it between his teeth. It’s just enough to tease and not enough to provide relief.

“Dave.” It comes out so hoarse you don’t recognize your own voice.

He grins up at you, pulling the knife through your underwear with a rehearsed flick of his wrist. They join your shorts on the floor. You’re bared to him while Dave is fully clothed.

You catch the blood in his hair, splattered on his clothes. It’s drying on your skin now. You know you should be repulsed by it, but the thought of what you did still makes you buzz to life.

“Stay right there.” He eases to his feet. “I mean it. Don’t move.”

He turns on the shower, pushing the hot water all the way. As steam starts to fill the room, Dave removes his clothing item by item. He’s not making a show of it per se, but he is commanding, concise. He pulls another knife from his belt and sets it on the counter. Your breath catches and he makes eye contact. A whisper of a smirk plays on his lips. “Standing so still for me, darling.” You squeeze your legs together, feeling the familiar squelching between your vaginal lips.

You eye the knife a moment longer, biting your lip. Something about it calls out your name. You’re not sure if you should grab it and find the nearest person to plunge it into or if you want Dave to use it with you, on you.

Dave catches the glimmer in your eyes as you eye it. A newfound excitement tugs in his belly. A whole new world is opening before him. One where he doesn’t have to hide all this shit from you, one where you might enjoy it too. You’re not shutting down after killing that man, his body cooling on your living room floor. You liked it. He likes it.

He kicks off his boots and socks. His pants follow. Your eyes travel over his body. The scars make sense now. You still don’t know what Dave does, but you know it’s bad. There’s a small band across his ankle that houses another knife. You should hate him for all of this, kick him to the curb. Instead, your cunt is soaking, and you’re not sure you’ve ever wanted him more.

He chuckles as you eye the knife on his ankle. It’s the only thing he wears other than his briefs now. His dick bulges, usually pulling your attention, put you can’t pull your eyes away from the knife.

Pulling off his underwear, Dave comes back over to you, pressing his body against yours. His teeth scrape over the veins of your neck and he bites down on your earlobe as his hand tangles in your hair.

You release a soft yell. You barely recognize the man in front of you, but it doesn’t matter.

He grips your thigh, hiking it over his hip, running his dick through your sopping cunt.

“You like my knives, Darling?”

You nod as pleasure plays like a movie across your body.

He gips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Use your words.”

“Yes.” It barely comes out.

His brows raise in amusement. “Would you like me to use them?”

“You won’t hurt me.” You say it as a statement.

Flashes of his softer side show before he clamps them down. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes.” It’s almost a yell.

Without hesitation, he grabs the knife off the vanity, pressing it to your neck. “On your knees.”

You obey coming face to face with his hard cock. The knife stays against your delicate flesh.

“You know what to do, baby.”

Again, you obey, taking it into your mouth. The knife is cool against your neck, the only reminder it’s still there. You don’t know how it never pierces your flesh either by dumb luck or expert skill.

Dave’s hips thrust forward, almost triggering your gag reflex. Tears fall from your eyes. Curses sputter from Dave’s lips as he uses your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You breathe from your nose, forcing yourself to nod.

“Shit!” Dave curses, pulling out of your mouth. “I’m going to paint that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your cunt clenches as a small moan tumbles from your lips. He chuckles, hand closing around your neck once more as he ushers you into the shower.

The water is hot, burning against your skin as if it might melt your skin off. Dave holds you under the water. Your breath catches as your body screams out. The water beneath you runs red as the blood washes from your skin.

Your back hits the cool tile wall granting relief from the scalding water. He lathers soap over the parts of your body still stained red, fingers occasionally brushing under your breasts, tweaking nipples.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. Even covered in blood.”

You whimper again, senses overloaded from the trauma, the rush, the teasing. “Dave, please.”

“Please what? You have to use your words, Doll.”

Your walls constrict again, desperate to be around something. Your arms and legs are heavy with need. He’s never used that term with you before. It should be degrading. It is, but it sets another wave of pleasure. You wonder if it’s possible to orgasm virtually untouched. If it is, you’re close.

“Fuck me.”

His tongue clicks as he floats around yours, almost taunting you. He grabs your boob, hard enough it should hurt. It does a little, but pleasure overrides the pain.

“Ask nicely, Doll.”

His finger trails over your collarbone traveling between your breasts and down across your hip. Your thighs squeeze. His palm slips around as he grabs the back of your thigh, kneading it.

“I said.” His words come out like a punch. Concise. Almost sharp. “Ask. Nicely.” He pushes your thigh over his waist, forcing your supportive leg to your tiptoes.

You feel his cock near your entrance, brushing your pussy lips. You moan, hips bucking. He pushes against your neck, running your head into the tiles behind you. “You little slut. You think you can just take it.”

You gasp. “Please.”

“What do you want?”

“I want your cock inside me, Daddy.” It tumbles out of your lips before your brain catches up.

He thrusts his cock into you, sheathing himself fully, hitting the deepest parts of you. Then he’s gone, making you feel empty but only for a second until he enters you again. His hand squeezes tighter around your neck. You come for air as he continuously splits you apart thrust by thrust, pulling out almost fully each time.

Your moans are loud, drowned out by the steaming shower. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes. Dave pays you little mind, shows little care as he continues with a brutality you’ve never encountered, a brutality that only makes you soak his cock. He doesn’t slow. You don’t want him to. He never touches your clit, but you're propelling forward, chasing that high in a way you never have.

The pitch of your voice steps up. The spasm starts in your stomach traveling down to your core as you flutter around Dave’s cock. Your supporting leg shakes. Still, he never eases up, working you through your orgasm.

It hits you like a punch to the gut, a scream piercing the air. Your scream. Dave doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stutter. He keeps pace, chasing his own release.

With each thrust, you yell. You hear the squelching of your sopping cunt against his dick over the roar of the shower. His continuous movements extend your release until he finally buries himself inside you, coating your pussy with his cum. “Such a perfect little doll for me.”

You let out a final whimper as he pulls around, dropping your leg. Your knees buckle. You barely keep yourself upright, legs tingling and shaking.

Dave kisses your cheek. The softness causes a sense of whiplash. He glances over your body, making sure the blood is cleared from your skin and hair. He rinses the blood from his hair as your brain slowly returns to the world. You expect to be exhausted, and you are, but there’s still that low buzz deep within your body.

You killed a man. You took a life. You should feel bad. There’s a fucking body in your living room, but all you can think about is the rush. You liked it. Watching Dave, you wonder if he feels the same way. There’s no doubt to you that he’s taken lives before. You wonder if he knows how many.

The water stops. Dave dries you off with the soft bath towel. He helps you into his soft white t-shirt and tucks you into bed.

“I need to make a call.” He kisses your head and shuts himself in your bathroom. You hear him on the phone, but his words are muffled by the door.

You lay on your back, sheets cool against your hot skin. Staring at the ceiling, you can still feel the blood dripping from your hands, hear the piercing of the knife. You heart rate picks up. What would it be like to do that again? Would you feel the same rush of adrenaline? Would it feel better?

Dave comes out, tossing his cell on the nightstand and sliding under the covers. His hand covers yours.

“What about…?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

You don’t ask. He probably knows people. His fingers drift over your cheeks and jaw. They skim lower, following the same path down your neck as your arteries. They feel cool against your skin, drawing patterns where you anticipate bruises tomorrow.

“Did I hurt you?”

He’s almost back to the Dave you know, soft and kind, but you still catch the edges of his dark side. He’s more of a blend now. You think you might be getting the real, true Dave now.

“No,” you shake your head. There was pain. You’ll be sore tomorrow, sport a few scrapes and bruises, but it doesn’t feel like he hurt you.

Dave kisses your forehead, fingers tracing your collarbone now. A question forms in your head, gnawing at the corners of your brain.

“Dave?”

“Hmmm?” He sees distracted, entranced as he follows his hand over your skin, skimming the tops of your breasts. Your nipples tighten making you curl your toes with a familiar tug of desire. How are you ready to go again after that?

“What if I liked it?”

His eyebrow quirks. “The sex?” he pinches your hardened nipple making you gasp.

“All of it?”

His palm stops. The pitch of his voice deepens. “All of it?”

You bite your lip, nodding.

“Use your words, Doll.” He cups your breath, teasing your nipple more. His breath is hot in your ear. “Tell me what you like.”

“I-” Can you really say this out loud? Will it blacken your soul? Or is it already charred and damned.

“Tell me.” He smacks your chest like a parent might smack their child’s hand away from an electrical outlet.

Your pussy clenches as you squeeze your legs together. He smacks your other breast in the same manner. You gasp, practically yelling out your answer. “Killing him.”

The air stands still. For a second, you expect a look of disgust to cross Dave’s face. Instead, a smirk grows. “You liked that?”

You nod, not able to say anything else. Dave climbs on top of you, kicking away the covers. He pushes his hand up your sternum, kneading your breast before running it back down. He repeats the motion, rotating between the two. Moans grow in your chest. He bites your earlobe.

“Did you like the way the knife slid into him?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dave growls in your ear.

“Yes, Daddy,” you repeat between moans. Your sopping hole drips onto the sheets below you. Dave’s motions steadily grow in intensity.

“Did my doll like the way her body felt alive? Like you absorbed that bastard's energy.”

Tears drop from your eyes. You want him again. You need him again. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Does my doll want to do it again?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You practically scream. You should be ashamed of the answer. You should be ashamed that there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in your being.

“Fuck,” Dave says, shoving your legs apart. He pushes his cock inside you again. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure you will.”

Dave moves inside you. It’s not as violent, not as torturous as earlier, but it’s just as satisfying. The promise of more ignites a fire inside of you.

Dave takes you to the brink, pushing you until you pass out from exhaustion, spent, used, and sated.

“I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might.”

When you wake up the next morning, the body is gone. The lamp you broke is replaced and a new area rug is delicately placed in your apartment. Not a speck or splatter of blood can be found anywhere. Dave stands in the kitchen gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He cooks eggs on the stovetop and a steaming cup of coffee sits on the counter.

You wrap your arms around him. He hums. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, heart beating against your palm. “I like the rug.”

“Me too.”

“Kryptonite”

[frangipanilove]

The off-season is slow so…

…here’s some wild unfounded speculation. Actually I shouldn’t even call this “speculation”, it’s just random tidbits that could potentially deserve to be speculated over, if we lived in a world where causation equals correlation. We don’t, so take this with a huge grain of salt, and think of it as more head-canon bordering on fan fiction than anything else. Hey, the fandom has been quiet, ok? I’m having theorizing withdrawals.

What if Carol and Daryl use the Knot Alone boat to return to the US via the Canary Islands, which I’ve talked about here. The etymology of the word “canary” reveals a connection to the Latin word for dog “canis”, which means there Sirius symbolism at play, and as we’ve established before, there were some weird coordinates from FTWD that were supposed to lead to a repeater station in Georgia, when in reality they pointed to a stretch of the Atlantic Ocean outside the Canary Islands (which are Spanish territory and excellent starting points for transatlantic crossings).

And we’ve already discussed the various ways in which the name “Knot Alone” could be relevant for TD, see post here.

Or not, lol, this is really just a super weak connection and this is mainly me just grasping at straws to justify writing a post about something, anything at all. Sorry not sorry😄

At least we can all enjoy these stunning season 3 spoiler pics ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[curioushabitforarivergod]

💛💚💖 I'm curious 🤭

Ask game: unpopular opinion edition <3

hii tysm for the ask! another chance to spread my hateful words and thoughts! (also a senpai notice me moment ngl 😳🤭)

💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

in all honesty, i will back most ships but the one i cannot is drarry. like i get it, theres all this fun evidence but who tf cares. its kind of bland, especially after falling down into the depths tomarrymort and i actually despise 8th year fics which seem to make up a huge portion of it. drarry fans can be very very insufferable (speaking as a former drarry shipper) and i could not stand to be in the same room as more than a few at any one time

also wolfstar. i cant believe i nearly forgot how much i despise it. remus and sirius are not good for each other, and everyone seems so obsessed over it. plus anytime i try to read a marauders fic its just there which puts me off a lot of that part of the fandom in general. i cant stand it even if its a side pairing — the mischaracterisation, the blatant suppression of sirius' personality, changing him into the uwu boy and remus into the badass one (atyd, my op). they definitely were not together before harry's 3rd year and even then i dont think they were actually together. i lowkey hate remus too. hes kind of mid

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

my fave character is harry and the movies did a world of damage to him. they made him boring and flat and so now everyone thinks hes like that. hes not — hes so clever and hes vicious and hes such a complicated person dealing with so much shit. and often ppl make his abuse worse, but thats not the point. neglect and starvation are also abuse, it doesn't have to be overtly physical. it downplays over forms of abuse (i myself have an emotionally abusive relationship w my mother). i hate when people make harry weak in the face of all this — he is so strong and amazing

💖: What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?

that wolfstar didnt love each other lmao. i honestly dont know what counts as an unpopular opinion. mainly, i think at kings cross when harry dies, it should have been lily to greet him — dumbledore is obviously death and he was the wrong choice to represent the narrative closure. or if not lily, at least someone like sirius. also the characterisation of death in fics; death should be a woman! or at least not portrayed as a man all the time. im just obsessed with that idea. you get it in art/writing sometimes (e.g. Death by Janis Rozentāls (1897) / "There is something female about being dead," Joyce Carol Oates) and it makes me feral.

more unpopular opinons: i dont think regulus was a good guy, i think peter deserved better from everyone around him and the fandom, voldemort was never exorcised as a child and hes far more interesting than parts of the fandom think, the marauders were really bad bullies and SA'd snape but theyre also allowed to grow up — the two arent mutually exclusive, none of the characters are particularly good and none of them fully evil either (nuance ffs), remus is a coward and i hate him a lot

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Falling Sky (Dave York)

Dave York Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Prev

Warning: mention of attempted murder, mention of murder, threatening murder.

Summary: Pt4 of Isn't My Affair Anymore. Everything that could wrong for Dave, does. Inspired by- Red's - Falling Sky

Dave was not his usual calm and collative self this morning; constantly checking both his phone and wristwatch almost every second as went through his normal morning routine in helping get the girls ready for school, anxiously awaiting a notification that the job had been successful. All that soon shifted once Carol entered the kitchen with the person, he least expected.

"Honey... the front doorbell is broken. Your old army buddy was at the backdoor for almost five-minutes..."

"Actually, I was his team leader... seven years", McCall comments broadly smiling at a dumbstruck Dave.

Now it falls all around me Did I think I could run away? Now it's coming to find me This world that I deserve Now it burns across this shattered earth I lift my eyes to fire

*

Carol and the girls had left Dave and Robert alone in the kitchen to talk and it didn't long for it all went to hell.

"I took this off the guy who tried to kill me yesterday", Robert explains, placing a cell phone on the table. "Just like you said... 'cleaning up'. Everybody's looking into the Brussels hit, nobody's safe. You, your family... nobody."

"It's military encryption", he remarks when Dave reaches out for the phone. "You should take it to the office, run the numbers... check the names against the passenger manifest in and out of Brussels on the day surrounding the flight."

As a speechless Dave, scans through it. "Whoever we're looking for may call to that phone...", Robert states matter-of-factly as he points to it.

"I'm on it. I'm on it", Dave anxiously obliges, placing it inside his blazer pocket. Taking a quick look at the kitchen entrance, then down at his wristwatch. Robert watches all this with a broad smirk, taking out his own phone then.

Silently, Robert makes a call, placing it on loudspeaker and immediately, Dave's phone begins to ring. With pursed lips, Dave silently avoids eye contact with him whilst it continued to ring. Finally looking up at Robert with a death stare then.

"Tell me I'm wrong Dave...", Robert stares at him disappointedly. "You gonna answer it?", he presses when Dave refuse to respond to neither his question nor the ringing phone.

"What happen, Dave?", Robert asks.

Finally, removing the phone from his pants pocket, Dave slowly waves it in the air and points it at him. "You died...", he gives a short sarcastic chuckle, throwing the phone onto the table in defeat.

Under a falling sky Hopeless, there's nowhere to hide The terror is real this time Under a falling sky I'm under, I'm under a falling sky There you are, so far away Did you think I was fighting you? I only wanted to carry you so far away from here The nightmare bleeds, the poison seeps I hear you call, you're screaming, screaming

*

After revealing all to Robert, Dave and he left the house, making their way across the street to the vehicle stationed on the corner. Resnik, Ari and Kovac exits it as the two nears and Dave silently signals for them to standdown.

"Gentlemen...", he greets them, and they return it.

"Looks pretty good for a dead guy", Resnik remarks with a grin as Dave anxiously stands on the sideline, finally speaking up then.

"We all want you to know that this is nothing personal."

"What you do, what you become... is not my concern", Robert remarks. "The world is full of so-called men like you, when in a perfect world... everything we do, comes with a price. But this ain't a perfect world. People do bad things, if you lucky you get a chance to... set it right."

Dave stares deep in thought at Robert's words as he continues, "but most of the time, it goes unpunished. This ain't one of those times... The mistake you make was you killed by friend, so I'm gonna kill each and every one of you." He makes a point of staring each of them dead in the eye, "and the only disappointment in it for me... is I only get to do it once."

Under a falling sky Hopeless, there's nowhere to hide The terror is real this time Under a falling sky I'm under, I'm under a falling sky

My fate it rains, it rains like cinder The cadent drums, the war it comes Growing thunder, terror, wonder Falling, falling, it's falling

*

"Does he know everything?", Resnik enquires once Robert had left with Dave's family.

"Basically", Dave grunts in response as stared down the empty street.

"Does he know about-", Resnik gets cut-off by Dave.

"No, he doesn't know about her being part of the team and I plan on keeping it that way."

"We should still warn her though", Resnik presses.

"Don't need to", Dave states. "She's already on high alert and went into hiding. Put in leave from work immediately after Susan's memorial, went to her house and it was empty."

"What?", a confused Resnik stares open-mouthed at him. "How did she know?"

"She doesn't know about McCall", Dave grunts out, confusing Resnik even more.

"Then why?"

Bracing his hands on his hips, Dave's drops his head with a heavy sigh. "She figured out about Susan instantly when she saw my face at the memorial. Also figured out that I realized, she figured it out and bailed immediately."

Sucking his lower lip inward, Dave squints back up at the empty street, "she thinks I'm going to kill her. That's why she's running."

"Were you going to...?", a now pale Resnik stares at him.

"No. Never...", Dave scoffs in disbelief at his question. "How could Resnik even ask him that? How could you even believe he would do that to you...?"

Resnik exhales a heavy sigh of relief and Dave just side-eyes him. "We should at least try to get in touch with her, warn her about what's happening", Resnik pushes.

"No!", Dave growls out, grabbing hold of Resnik's jacket. "As long as she believes I'm out to kill her, the safer she is." Letting go of Resnik and pressing the heal of palms into his eyes for second in frustration, Dave finally glares at all three of them. "McCall can never find out about her involvement with the team...", he warns them. "Are we clear about that?"

All three nod in silent agreement. "We have to prepare", Dave states, "we have to kill him before he kills us."

Dave remained outside long after the others had left, staring in a daze at the still empty street whilst be battle the inner turmoil brewing inside him.

"No matter what happens, McCall can never find out about you. You were never a part of this, he created this mess, and he was going to fix it. Even if he couldn't save himself, then at least he could save you."

Under a falling sky The terror is real this time It's over now, it's over Now

The terror is real I'm under, I'm under a falling sky

Under a falling sky I'm falling, I'm falling The terror is real this time I'm falling, I'm falling Under a falling sky I'm falling, I'm falling I'm under. 

NXT