#ayce is cooking 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

[dixonsstinkysock]

It’s Temporary

AN: This was going to be a random blurb but I’m too into this and he’s such a dork. Guys don’t tell anyone but I kinda wanna write smut, I’m not going to because I’m scared but y’know.

(Heavily inspired by a bot on C.AI, pretty sure the user is @/zetali_09 so if you see this i love you.)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of an apartment blowing up….suggestive???

Set during Season 1, before the timeskip…

The cold, Upper city, night air chilled you to the core. The dark streets only illuminated by the few street lights scattered here and there. You wrap your cloak around you a little tighter as you made your way to the meeting spot. Making a sharp turn down a dark alleyway, you narrowly miss a couple of enforcers doing their nightly rounds.

Leaning against the cool, damp, brick wall. Enjoying the noises of the city, letting time pass by as you wait for your companion. Around a half an hour later, you hear heavy footsteps and the soft click of the high-cost, well made shoes echoing throughout the alley. You recognized those steps, he saved up for a long time to purchase those shoes, no way could you forget them. You open your eyes, turning towards the culprit of the noise. “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna rot out here.” You smiled at the shadowed man, stepping into the moonlight.

“Sorry, had a few things to finish up with my work. Left later than I expected…”

You walk up to him, trapping him into one if your famous bear hugs. An unfamiliar scent wafts from him, its sweet…it’s expensive. Definitely not his signature cologne smell—no, something different. You both stay there for a moment, enjoying the new company. Everything seems to fade away when your with him, it’s like he’s the cure to your disease.

“Been a while since we last talked—“

“Yeah, I…” You pull back, looking Jayce in the eyes. “I’m sorry. There’s been alot going on.”

His hands come up to your face, gently caressing it. He’s always gentle with you, a contrast from the rough, dangerous streets you grew up in.

“Hey…What’s going on?” His voice is soft and smooth, with the occasional voice crack, it’s not fair. His looks already make him desirable, but hearing him talk to you with that tone? Drooling.

“It’s my siblings, they’ve been getting into more and more trouble.” You fully pull away from him, turning towards the lit up entrance of the alleyway. “It’s like Vi doesn’t even realize how bad things can really get.”

“Hey—“ He takes a step foward, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you to him. “I’m here. I’m here to help—with anything. We’ll figure this out okay?”

A bittersweet smile graces your lips, you close your hand over his placed on your shoulder.

“You don’t know the Undercity, Jayce. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me on this one…”

The two of you stood there, unspeaking. You can practically hear the gears burning inside Jayce’s head. You can almost smell the smoke coming from them, It’s obvious he’s thinking of ways to try and help you and your family. After a moment, you rest your head onto his chest, defeated, and looking for comfort.

“I can’t let you risk you life for this. You have too much ahead of you.”

You feel his arms wrap around you, bringing you closer. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent.

“There is nothing ahead of me without you.” You lock your arms around him, holding back a few tears. Jayce feels you taking fast, deep breaths, attempting to keep your composure. It’s all been alot, apparently your kid siblings were being nosy—blew up some guys apartment. Now every enforcer in Piltover is searching for them. You take a deep breath, leaning up straight to face him again.

“I won’t let you risk your life for me…risk your future—”

“I’m not some idiot throwing himself into danger for fun! I’m protecting someone I love.”

That. That catches you off guard. Yes, you two have been messing around every other night, cuddling after, speaking soft sweet words to each other…but love? He didn’t really love you did he? You’re from the Undercity. The scum of the scum. He’s from the top, he’s perfect. No way he actually means this…does he?

“I’m choosing to do this because I care about you, I care about your family. You aren’t alone in this, no matter how much you think you are.”

Time stops for what feels like hours, you gaze into his eyes, trying to find some kind of sign to tell you he isn’t being true. You can’t. His caramel eyes look gold from the street lights, determined and dead set on aiding you. You let your head fall onto his chest again, giving him your unspoken permission to help with your situation.

“I just realized I didn’t ask about how you’ve been.”

His arms tighten around your body, gently rocking you both back and forth. “Ha…” Jayce lets out a breathy chuckle, preparing himself to recount the most recent and life changing events. “It’s been different…Some guys blew up my apartment.”

You freeze. There’s no way they did that. It can’t be the same apartment right? How many apartments blow up in Piltover? Oh my god. My siblings blew up his fucking apartment. “Uh…” You can’t even form a sentence, still shocked at the new information. What are you going to tell him—

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah—are you okay? You’re fucking apartment blew up!” You pull back from him, facing him again. Your hands find their place on his waist, trying to ground yourself after what you were just told.

“My back’s still a little sore but I’m fine.”

“How much did you lose?” His mood darkened, eyes darting to the ground. “Alot.” You take a deep breath, This shouldn’t have happened. He is a good man, maybe a little crazy sometimes but—good. This whole thing is a mess. Jayce doesn’t know your sisters are the ones who blew up his apartment, you can’t go and get onto them for this because they don’t know you’re with him. You’re stuck, with no one to go to, maybe Vander but…he’d get upset that you’re up here with a topsider. Just so happens, he’s the same topsider your sisters were targeting.

This is fucking stupid.

After giving him your apologies, you realize it’s getting light. You should start heading back home, hopefully without Vander noticing you were gone.

“Jayce, It’s getting early. I gotta start heading back…”

“So soon..?” He smiles, he’s clearly up to something as he brings his hands up to your jaw. The sun is slowly rising, changing the sky into beautiful hues of orange and blue.

“Have to get back before Vander wakes up, I do not wanna hear that lecture.”

“Do you have to? Maybe you could…stay with me?”

“Stay…Topside. With you.”

“Yeah, I mean we could spend the day together. Go and do something…” He takes your hands into his own, engulfing them. You take a moment to think about his request. It’d be fun spending time with him, you’d be able to really enjoy his company. Not waiting for something or someone to come out of the shadows, trying to rob you or worse.

“Okay…What did you have in mind?” A smug look slowly plagues his face as he takes your hands into his, leading you out of the alley and in the direction of his temporary home.

“Trust me?”

You grip his hands tighter, letting him lure you into whatever devious plan he’s set up.

“Maybe…”

Two shadows danced against the stone road, slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher into the sky. One by one, doors open, carriages roll by, and the occasional stray kid runs in front of you two. None of that matters, not when his callused, warm hands are handling you so gently. When he looks at you like you’re his world…like he can’t live without you.

It definitely doesn’t matter when he pulls you into his hotel, hands roaming each others clothed figures as he closes the door behind you.

Guys…Part 2?? What y’all think 😈

[dixonsstinkysock]

ACT TWO SPOILERS! Jayce Talis x Reader _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

“Jayce?”

He froze, a voice he thought he’d never hear again spoke. This couldn’t have been a worse time. His usual neatly-kempt hair was unruly, down to his cheeks. His clean-shaven face now covered by the bushy brown beard. Jayce turned in the direction of the voice, he’d been waiting for this moment, to see you again.

“Y/N?”

His emotions shown through his face, fluctuating into surprise, confusion and…horror. You were like them. Viktor had done something to you. Your once vibrant, lively eyes now replaced by the lifeless, shimmering power of the Hexcore. Many pieces of the iridescent metal scattered your forehead, another mark showing you’ve been “saved”.

“Jayce…I thought I would never see you again.” A spiritless chuckle left your mouth—a contrast from the usual boisterous laughter. You step foward, your hand settling on his bicep and squeezing. Jayce slowly backs away from you, his face frozen and in shock from your appearance. Your other hand finds its place on his right bicep, holding him in place and stopping him from moving any farther.

“Jayce, Viktor is waiting for you. If you wish to see him, I must take your weapon.”

“I—I have to go.”

He yanks himself away from your hold, now back to the small steps backwards. As he turns and sprints away, he crashes into multiple tents and stalls, as if he’s fighting something—or someone.

The child that let him towards Viktor’s hiding place finally let go of Jayce’s hand. Now pointing inside of the huge dome area. He already knows where Viktor is, this isn’t the first time but he still hesitates. The child walks back to his previous spot before Jayce almost obliterated him.

“Forgive me.”

In all of the universes he had been in, this is the first he has seen you like this. Jayce wants to look back, he wants to see you one last time, for he knows what happens to the people Viktor “save” once he dies. He doesn’t look back—he can’t. He won’t remember you like this…he won’t fail. Not this time, he’ll succeed, for you.

He understands now.

[dixonsstinkysock]

Just read every single Jayce Talis fanfic. Someone has to write more. Just look at this face… 😈

[dixonsstinkysock]

Charmed.

summary - it’s was always john, you should’ve known.

pairing - john shelby x reader x past! tommy shelby

warnings - mentions of cheating

notes - I’m obsessed with john shelby what.

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

prompt list 💚

49. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

60. “I never meant to hurt you.”

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

“I never meant to hurt you. You were right, I need you”

You scoffed, slightly shaking your head and looking into the water below.

“You made me look a fool, Thomas. Sitting around, waiting for you, and you’re out fucking the new barmaid.”

“It—…It meant nothing. I know my decision now, it’s you.”

“Don’t feed me that bullshit, Tom. Go be happy with that bloody barmaid of yours.”

——————————

It had been a few months since your last conversation with the infamous Thomas Shelby. Of course you’d seen him around since then but you always denied his requests to speak or avoided him in general. You were still close with the rest of the Shelby family, being childhood friends with Arthur, Tommy, John, and Ada, it was hard to miss him. No way would you cut the rest of the Shelby siblings off just because their brother was a twat.

Ada, your best friend, had been bugging you to go out for a while now. “Getting back out there” as she put it, already wanting to find a new suitor for you. You honestly had no interest or intention to start anything new so soon, turning down anyone who dared to go after Tommy Shelby’s girl—ex girl.

After realizing you really weren’t planning on going with anyone tonight, Ada decided to drop it and just enjoy your company. The both of you getting shit-faced and somehow ending up dancing on tables. It was a miracle neither one of you fell. Eventually, Polly cut you and Ada off, having John escort..well, carry you to your flat. You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, a cup of water, and a bucket next to your bed. Bless him.

——————————

“Did you know?”

“I knew he took some type of interest into her but, well, you know Tom…”

“Right…” You turn to leave

“Y’know I would’ve told you if I knew. You didn’t deserve that, Tommy, he’s—“

“I know, Arthur…Save me a bottle of that whiskey tonight, yeah?” He nods, looking at you with pity and watching you leave the Garrison, still heartbroken.

——————————

The room temp water felt like heaven. Dreading getting up to get more you hear someone knocking on your front door. At first, you plan to ignore it, getting up this early with a hangover should be illegal and you aren’t going to do it. John Shelby’s never done anything legal so…

“Oi! (Y/N)!” You groan, turning around in your bed, shoving your head under your pillow.

“Time to get up, (Y/N)! I need you!”

Realizing he won’t leave until he sees you, you throw the covers off, getting out of bed and heading towards your bedroom window. Opening the window, you peer outside not realizing you’re only in your undergarments.

“What do you need, John?!”

“Nothing! Hoped it’d get you up faster!”

“Fuck you, John Shelby!”

He lets out a laugh, taking your house key from its hiding place and letting himself inside.

——————————

“Big day…”

John stands infront of his bedroom mirror, messing and fixing every tiny little thing on his uniform. Avoiding looking at you in the mirror, afraid of what will happen if he does. “Yeah.”You take another step in, softly letting the door click behind you.

“I uh…I wanted to speak to you alone before you left. I—I did the same with Arthur and Tommy so…” Your left hand twisting the rings on your fingers out of nervousness. “I want you to promise me, John.”

He stills just for a moment, hands still holding onto his collar. “Promise? Promise what?”

“That you’ll come back…T-to Martha…to Polly, Ada, Finn, your kids…Me.” His hands drop from his coat, falling to his sides. You step towards his bed, carefully picking up his cap and moving towards him. “You’ve got alot of people counting on you, John.”

You adjust his cap on his head until you deem it perfect, as perfect as it can be. Your hands cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, giving him a smile. “I’m already ready for you boys to come home.” Letting out a small laugh, you blink away the tears as best you can. You don’t need to cry infront of him.

Silence blankets the room as you stare into each other’s eyes, time passing as you both get lost in eachother. This wasn’t right. You’re with his brother, Tommy, and he’s with Martha, happy with kids. “You better come back to m-us, John Shelby—” You are cut off as his lips collide with yours. His hands find the back of your head and waist as he nips at your lower lip.

Your hands find his chest, pushing him away. “John—I-Don’t.” You turn, leaving his room and heading back downstairs to the rest of the Shelby’s.

——————————

John said he had something planned tonight. Something that he needed the whole family together for. So, here you are, walking into the Garrison in one of your best black dresses.

Surprisingly, the place is empty. The Garrison is only empty when it’s Shelby business or Blinder business. Maybe you should just go home, especially if they’re having a family meeting. You go to grab your coat from the rack you just put it on, coming in when—

Crash

“Fockin’ ‘ell!”

“John?”

Peeking through the snug door you see John, a whiskey bottle and a floor full of glass. “John, are you okay?” He spins in your direction, the shattered cup crunching under his shoes. “Yeah, Yeah, just bloody fookin’ clumsy.”

“Where is everyone?” You set your purse down on the seat, carefully stepping around the shards. “Oh—uh, They couldn’t make it, y’know everyone’s busy these days.” You get down on your knees, picking up the larger shards of glass that John hadn’t reached yet. “Thought I’d…tell you first. Y’know since…no one else is here.” He brings in a broom and dust pan from outside, sweeping up the smaller shards.

You grab another glass from behind the counter, making your way back towards the snug. John pours you both a drink, him downing his as soon as he puts the whiskey bottle down, immediately pouring another. “Must be pretty big news…”

“Listen, (Y/N), I’m gonna be a blunt with you here—no beating ‘round the bush…no more.” He pours another.

“Alright…I’m ready.”

“I want to marry you.”

…

…

“What?” He lets out a breath, downing his drink again and slamming the glass down. “You heard me. I want to marry you.” Now it’s your turn to get another drink.

“John…You don’t want to marry me. You’re grieving—“

He scoffs throwing his hat down on the table, his right leg bouncing like crazy. “If you don’t want to, tell me now so I can start to move on.” A silence falls over you two, John’s courage slowly slipping. You set your glass down, leaning back into your seat. “It—It’s not that I don’t want to, I just…” You take a deep breath, thinking about what to say next.

“There’s more than just getting married, John. What would your family say, what would Tommy say—“

“Who gives a fuck what Tommy says?! He should’ve never let you go like that.”

Another silence but this time it’s not as tense, almost as if you’ve decided. Have you decided? Of course you’ve always felt something with John but there’s so many consequences to this. Would you be happy? Would his family think of you as being a whore? Jumping around, brother to brother…

“Tommy’s always taken what’s mine. I think it’s time I take something of his, ey?”

YOU GUYS CAN DECIDE HOW THIS ENDS!! ARE YOU GONNA MARRY HIM OR WHAT???? (say yes)

C U L8TER 💚

word count: 1276

[dixonsstinkysock]

Blurb #1

"I love you..."

He stills, breath hot and heavy on your face. His hands grip the sheets near your head tighter than before. It takes him a few minutes to meet your eyes, afraid of what he would find. "Give it ten minutes, Love" He smirks "It'll go away-"

"No, John-" Your hands move from his bare chest to his head, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look back up at you. The candles filling the room with a soft warm light, his eyes glimmering, like something out of those romance books you read. "I mean it...l love you."

'Yeah?"

"Yeah."

just a silly little idea…might turn it into something…might not idk…

[dixonsstinkysock]

agape.

summary - everyone needs a safe space, you just so happen to be one for arthur.

pairing - arthur shelby x fem!reader

warnings - TW: mentions of fighting, blood, injuries, mentions of war, mentions of PTSD.

notes - first peaky blinders fic…give me your criticisms please 🙏🏽

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

Seeing Arthur stagger into the betting shop covered in blood was an occasional thing. It usually meant he had another one of his episodes, caused by Tommy, as usual. Of course, he’s had them without the influence of his younger brother but he always tried to stop it. Visiting his doctor as regularly as he could, taking his prescriptions down to the very second on time, he’s even started opening up to you a little more. He’s a good man…but Tommy doesn’t need a good man, he needs a man who will do all the dirty work for him, so that precious face of his stays intact.

You’ve been close friends with The Shelby’s for years, Tommy even longer. But, he has his flaws, as does everyone. You don’t agree with the ways he treats his family sometimes, even going as far as to finally stand up to him after he scolded Finn over something small and dumb.

None of that matters now, what’s important is to get Arthur clean and stable, mentally. The first time you let him be—to his request— he ended up going on another rampage, almost attacking you in the midst. You’ve learned since then he is not as mentally there as he pretends to be. Just as he walks into his office, you finish counting the money from the recent races winnings, putting them into the lockbox and bringing them to Tommy’s office. Luckily for you he is still out, so you are able to slip in and out quickly, putting the lockbox in the safe.

Retracing your steps and now knocking on Arthur’s office door, you wait until he give you the okay to come in. He sounds exhausted, obviously in pain.

“Arthur?” He’s slouched over his desk, head in hands, gripping his hair. Blood and sweat drips down his nose and onto his desk, his breathing heavy and laboured. You slowly make your way over to his desk, not making any sudden movements in case he’s stuck in his head again. Thinking of the war, all the young boys and older men he’s killed, the families he’s left without fathers or brothers or husbands.

Now standing next to him, you gently put a hand on his shoulder, repeating his name again, to try and bring him back to the present. He glances at you, attempting a small smile but failing. “Let’s go to my house and get you cleaned up” He shakes his head and stands “No…I’ve still got stuff to do for Tommy, paperwork…”

You grab his arm, not enough to startle him but enough to make him stop his pacing.

“You let me deal with Tommy, alright?” Arthur gives in after a moment, the exhaustion finally starting to settle in as he follows you to your house. It’s the closest to the betting shop and free of any other Shelby’s lurking around. You unlock the door and let Arthur step inside first, heading towards your living room and throwing himself down on your couch.

Grabbing a large bowl—one you usually use for things like this—and filling it up with warm water, you bring it over to the living room table, snatching up a rag from your laundry room on the way. Setting the bowl and rag down, you sit across from Arthur. Gently grasping his jaw with one hand while the other brings the soaked, warm, tattered rag to his face.

“Did…did you want to talk about it?”

…

You rinse the rag off, bringing it to his face again and gently wiping the blood away.

“You don’t have to, but when you want to I’m here…”

…

After wiping his face you bring the rag down to his neck, wiping off the blood there, he finally speaks.

“I can still see them…” his voice barely above a whisper “I still see their faces…”

…you don’t dare say anything, not wanting to break the bubble of this sensitive moment.

“I’ve done things…no human should have done.”

You put the rag back into the bowl, the warm water now cold with a pink tint. “You were serving your country, Arthur. It was for your family—your people.”

“I’m not the same man I was, (Y/N). I’m dangerous…”

“Everyone is dangerous, Arthur. I don’t mind breaking down a few walls to get to you again.”

His eyes meet yours for the first time tonight, slowly getting their spark back. He brushes back a strand of hair from your face. “You’re too good to me, love. You deserve better.” You grab the hand cupping your jaw, covering it with both of your hands.

“You’re the best I could’ve asked for, Arthur.”

Thank you for reading lovelies! C U L8TER! 💚

word count: 779

[dixonsstinkysock]

I was born to tell stories.

summary - you’ve had enough, it’s time your father opens his eyes…or atleast try to see things from your perspective. What will it take?

pairing - john shelby x eldestdaughter!reader

warnings - mention of sickness and death

notes - I want him but at the same time I want him to be my father…idk yall. I don’t know anything about sickness so don’t @ me

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

Today was like the rest of them, if you didn’t fall asleep for a good three hours you would’ve never known it was the next day. They all seem to melt together. Taking care of four young children was no easy feat for a 17 year old, especially with them being your siblings. It’s like the bastards have some personal vendetta against you, except Katie. Like you she had to grow up as well, taking care of the other three if you were sick.

You’re 18th is coming up soon and you feel closer to 30 with the way you run the house. Your father is almost never seen, coming in at the later hours and leaving at the ass crack of dawn, before everyone else. You understand why he does what he does but sometimes you wish he would just stay and take care of all of you—or at least check in on how you’re doing—for one day.

Enough sulking. You have children to bathe, dress, and feed. Getting dressed and throwing your hair up, you make your way downstairs. Luckily no one else is up yet which gives you some alone time while making breakfast.

Eggs and…bread. Again. You’ll have to make a trip to the market soon, hopefully catch Dad sooner rather than later as well, your money stash is running low. Speaking of running low, there’s only enough for the younger four, you’ll have to eat their leftovers again. Either that or call your Great Aunt Polly…No way. You’ll be fine for a day, just stay up a bit later than usual, ask your Dad for some coin. One by one your siblings started making their way downstairs, sitting at their usual seat at the dining table and eating breakfast.

“It’s not much…I’ll have to make a trip to the market tomorrow. Is there anything special you all want?” You ask as you sit down with them, taking this chance to relax before everyone starts to get rowdy.

“Can we come with you this time?” The youngest of the five siblings ask, completely disregarding their fork and eating the eggs with their hands. “Uh…I don’t think so, not this time. You’ll have to stay with Aunt Polly”

“Can you buy an apple?”

“Can we get a cake this time?!”

“It better be Chocolate cake—“

“Ew! No way, Vanilla cake!”

Blocking out their arguments has gotten easier and easier recently, maybe because they bicker so much you have endless practice.

As the day passed and the moon rised, all the children were fed and in bed. Aunt Pol cooked dinner for you all earlier, not unusual but she only cooked if she felt in the mood…or guilty. Laying on the couch in the living room, you open your book and continue where you left off, needing to catch your father before you went to sleep tonight.

——————————

The soft click of the front door opening is heard throughout the first floor. Your father stepping in softly as to avoid waking anyone up.

“Dad?” You sit up from the couch, your book discarded as you stared into the fire, wondering how much longer this will go on. “Y/N? What are you still doing up, hm?” John says as he hangs his hat and coat by the front door, making his way into the living room where you were still sat. The small fire heating up the room, a contrast to the cold air nipping at your nose just outside these four walls. “I told you don’t bother waiting up for me—“

“I needed too…” You cut him off “I need to make a trip to the market and I don’t have enough money.”

He takes a coin pouch from his suit pocket, tossing it to you as he sits in his chair. “I’ll be gone early again tomorrow, a few more things for your Uncle Tom and then I’ll be free, alright?” He grabs the whiskey bottle from beside the chair, a clean glass waiting for him as well, a routine you’ve started knowing he likes to drink down here when he comes home. “Right…” a comforting and at the same time uncomfortable silence blankets the room. It’s nice being in the company of your father but should you say anything? Start a conversation or leave him be? He’s probably exhausted, he barely sleeps anymore—at home at least.

You get lucky when your dad comes home empty handed, baby-wise. With whores left and right you are surprised you don’t have more siblings to take care of. Your dad has been in a real relationship with only two women—your mother, and your siblings mother, Martha.

Martha was sweet. She took care of you like her own, especially after your uncles and father left for war. It was rough then, worse when Martha fell ill. She was the only mother you’d known, your own passing while in labor with you. It destroyed you, the day your father came home was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry, made it feel like the world stopped. If Dad’s crying then it must all be over.

Eventually you all moved on, it was hell, taking over all the duties and responsibilities in the home at the young age of 15. Aunt Polly and Ada were always busy with the betting shop, something you were too young to work in, which automatically made you the “housewife”.

“When are you gonna come home, Dad?”

“What do you mean? I’m home now, aren’t I?” He sits up in his chair, taking a drink of amber liquid swirling around in the crystal glass. “I—I mean you’re never home anymore. We never see you—“

“You know why I’m not home, I’m working for Tommy.” You move the blanket off of you that you covered yourself with earlier, fully sitting up. All he does is work. You didn’t understand it, why have so many children if you didn’t even want them? “It’s not fair, Dad, I miss you…we all miss you.” He sighs, his hand resting on the table next to him.

“Life isn’t fair, angel.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and standing from the couch. “That bullshit! You just don’t want to deal with us. Did you even want us from the first place?”

“Watch your language and you know I’m busy. I can’t be here to coddle you all, all the fookin’ time, Grow up!”

“Grow up?! Fuck you! I’ve done nothing but grow up.”

“Oi! Don’t speak to me that way, I’m still your bloody father—“ He stands from his chair, glass still in his hand, now meeting your voice level. “I didn’t ask for this! I can’t just leave whenever I want and enjoy my life—I had no choice!”

“You should be grateful! The only reason why you’re able to take care of your siblings is because I’m out there everyday busting my arse to keep this roof over our heads. To keep everyone alive!” You roll your eyes, deciding its best to just shut your mouth and let him have his way. You love your father but he can be one whiny cunt sometimes. He sits back down a few minutes after you do, the conversation obviously over. It feels like hours before he finally moves again.

John taking the last sip of his whiskey, stands, holding his hand out for you to grab. His hand is rough, something to be expected after doing dangerous work all day everyday. He leads you up to your room, sitting on the edge of your bed as you slip under your blankets. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, he presses a soft kiss against your forehead. “Been a while since I’ve tucked you into bed…you’re all grown up now.”

“Yeah..It’d be a lie to say I don’t miss it.”

“Hey…” His hand comes up to brush your hair back, settling next to you on the bed “I promise you won’t have to do this much longer, I’ll find you a mother—“

You sigh, looking away from him “Dad, I’ve told you. I don’t need a new mum.” You sit up “I’ve taken care of me and my siblings since Martha passed…we’ll be fine.”

“…Right, well, We should get some rest, yeah?” He stands, bidding you goodnight as he closes your bedroom door behind him, heading towards his own room.

——————————

It’s been about 5 weeks since you had that little chat with your dad, not having seen him since. The exhaustion and stress is catching up with you again, leaving you sick and bed bound. Only able to get to the restroom every once in a while. As usual when you’re sick Katie has to take over your jobs, bathing, dressing, and feeding the children. Aunt Polly has been bringing the kids to school and dropping them off at home. Your father no where to be seen around the house.

Sometimes you wonder if he knows anything about you falling sick. It’s been getting worse and coming more often recently, but he’s never said anything about it. Then again he hasn’t been around to say anything about it.

Tonight, Aunt Pol has the kids spending the night with her, finally letting you rest in silence and peace knowing they are taken care of. This bed feels disgusting and you need a change of scenery. You muster up the strength to bring yourself downstairs, laying on the couch infront of the fire. Warmth slowly covers your body as your eyes droop closed. You didn’t even hear the front door open and close.

Unlike you, Your father is having a good time, at the Garrison with your uncles and two whores hanging off him. The whiskey now sliding down his throat easily, the burn long gone. Alarms were set off in the three older brothers heads as their youngest brother bursts in the snug. Trying to catch his breath as he relays the message his aunt sent to them. “John—…Aunt Polly…(Y/N)—..needs you.”

“Calm down, Finn. Take a breather, yeah?” The eldest of the four pats the seat next to him as Tommy dismisses the girls, them leaving the snug. “Now tell us, what did Pol want?”

“(Y/N) has a bad fever, Aunt Pol is with her now—says it’s only getting worse and to come get John and a doctor.”

——————————

“Same thing Martha had…” Polly states as she wrings out the wet cloth, bringing it to your head. Everyone is gathered around you, Ada back at Polly’s keeping an eye on the kids. “…What?” Your father speaks up, not sure if he heard his Aunt right.

“I recognized these symptoms from somewhere. Martha had them, right before she passed.”

John lets out a deep breath, putting his head into his hands. The doctor left a while ago, not able to give a cure, only a “She’ll be lucky if she makes it through the night”. Maybe this is the punishment John was expecting. He always knew someone would punish him and his brothers for their actions. Their gambling, fighting, killing. Never did he think would they come after his baby, his first born.

“And there’s nothing we can do—“ Arthur puts a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “John…”

John shrugs it off, standing from his seat. “No—No. There’s got to be something, Pol…What about all that fookin’ gypsy magic you talk of, ey? Or is that just a bunch of shit too?!”

——————————

How can someone’s health deteriorate that quick, that bad? It’s been a week. John remembers it like yesterday. Every little sound, every smell, it all haunts him. He knew he was a bad man, maybe he deserved this. John hadn’t moved from the couch, the same couch you were sat on during your last argument with him. It replays in his head, day and night. That was the last time you two had really spent any time together.

He’s stalling. John is supposed to be gathering some of your things for your funeral, Tommy should be here any moment now. He needs to step up. He needs to become a father—to find a mother for his children. What about that Lizzie Stark?

“I’ve bit the hand of god, now he won’t feed me either.”

I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I get all my quotes from pinterest…teehee…

C U L8TER 💚

word count: 2057

[dixonsstinkysock]

Hey… 😊👋🏽 1/13/25 first writing of the year…

“Good Morning, Daryl!” You wave at the archer from your garden a little down the street, covered in dirt head to toe. You’d gotten lucky recently, finding some of your favorite fruit seeds on a run, after putting it off for weeks on end you decided it was time to get the hard part over with. Putting them in the ground..🙄

Getting nothing but a short wave and twitch of lip from him you get back to work, figuring either he’ll work up the courage to come talk to you now or you’ll see him later.

“Wow. That was the most boring interaction I’ve seen in a while—and trust me I’ve seen a ton.”

Carol walks up from behind Daryl, where the hell she came from who knows, but she always pops up unexpectedly. “What?” Daryl turns to look at her, believing that short interaction was the best part of his day. “Don’t ‘What’ me, you know what I’m talking about.”

He scoffs, looking back at you, secretly hoping you won’t notice his obvious staring. “I dunno’ what you mean..”

“Ha! Sure…I don’t understand why you just won’t talk to her. She’s not going to bite your head off!” Daryl shakes his head and looks down at his feet. “No..”

“Okay, If you won’t, I will. Hey, (Y/N)!” Carol shouts and waves you over as Daryl snaps his head towards her, silently screaming at her to shut up. You look up again, not minding a distraction from all of your hard work. Standing, you make your way over to the two, wiping your hands as best you can on the old rag Daryl found you some days ago. He said he already had one and thought you could use it, Daryl code for I’ve secretly been stalking you and noticed you don’t have anything to clean your hands with after all that sweaty hard work you do in your garden, planting stuff and…like…sweating. (guys im getting off track im sorry)

“Hey guys!” You stick the now dirty rag in your back jeans pocket, greeting them. “It’s nice to see you, Carol, feels like we never see each other anymore” You and her half hug considering you are covered in dirt.

“I know..We should have some girl time soon—uh speaking of spending time together, I heard that a certain someone found a favorite movie of yours.” She glances at Daryl, expectantly, wanting him to say something.

“Uh—yeah, yeah, I kinda js grabbed something y’know..” He looks down at his feet again and clears his throat.

“Anyways…I was thinking, why don’t I take the kids for tonight? Jude’s been wanting to help me bake something and you two can spend some time together!” Carol nudges Daryl with her hip, suggesting something.

“Oh! Well, I’m free! As long as it’s okay with you, Daryl, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah—no, it’s okay, I’m down..” He’s “down”? what the hell is wrong with him?? why would he say that—

“Perfect! Well, I have to get back to the kitchen, I have things…cooking. Bye!” Carol walks off, leaving you and Daryl in this awkward conversation. “So uh…I’ll see you tonight? Around 7?”

He nods, biting his bottom lip. “Mhm..I’ll see you later.”

You smile “Okay…Well, shouldn’t keep those seeds waiting…ha…” You start to slowly walk backwards toward your garden.

“Right—yeah, I’ll see you later.” He turns, slowly walking away and turning a corner, going back to his place to make it look “nice”.

yeah whatever that place is a dump idc. okay guys uh the end.

I haven’t written in a YEAR give me some slack 🤕

love u see u later 😫😫😫

[dixonsstinkysock]

Random thought (maybe a potential oneshot) but I keep thinking of Daryl having this nice family, Wife, kids, all that. They’ve got a nice house on the outside, everyone is safe and happy. THENNNN, Daryl is out one day, going community to community, helping here and there when they come across their “enemies” (?) at that point in time and one of the lower ranks of the other side is just like “I’d keep a closer eye on your family if I was you.” and Daryl freaks out on them whatever. THENNNN AGAINNNN, Daryl isn’t supposed to go back home for another couple of days but it getting super nervous about what the guy said and so he brings Aaron and Carol back with him to his home and guess what. His entire house is aflame and there is no trace of his family EXCEPT. His young daughter who managed to escape the burning house just to get bit and turn. Uhh yeah so she walks (?) towards Daryl obviously wanting to kill him and he collapes with Aaron holding him back and Carol putting down his daughter.

…

Yeah that was my idea. Okay bye 💚

[dixonsstinkysock]

HES BIT.

summary - you aren’t going out alone.

pairing - daryl dixon x reader

warnings -TW: mentions of SUICIDE!! Swearing, Violence, Descriptions of Infected bite marks.

notes - this is super old (my arcane era) enjoy lovelies

main masterlist | daryl dixon masterlist

Those freaky, walker skin–covered people were one step ahead of you this time. It’s like they knew your exact plan, they cornered you, separated the group. God knows where everyone else is…Where Daryl is. You saw him get out of the horde–Thank God–now you just have to remember what direction he went in. It’s getting later into the night, you’ve been searching for a good 3 hours and still no sign of everybody. Going home is not an option, not at this time of night and not without Daryl. You can just hope you don’t run into the “Whisperers” again. God…they are so creepy.

It’s getting late, the adrenaline is wearing off and the exhaustion is setting in. For now, you focus on finding somewhere to safely spend the rest of the night, it’s no good sleeping out in the open. Finally, you come across a charming little cottage, it’s got a few holes in the roof and the windows are smashed and boarded up but it’s…cute? It’s better than nothing, looks reinforced–also abandoned–which is good. You still don’t drop your guard, it’s the apocalypse–everything’s abandoned. Nothing can be heard coming from the cabin, only the sounds of the spring wind rustling the leaves. Checking around the perimeter, nothing is found except some old tools in the backyard and 2 gravesites next to them. Only one of them was covered back up, it was a couple. You could assume the man killed his wife and then himself–perfectly falling into the grave next to her after he filled her grave with dirt.

Sometimes you think about who would die first, you or Daryl. Daryl’s always been smart, he’s survived more than you ever have–you would definitely be first. Another gust of wind, you shiver, trying to warm yourself up by rubbing your hands together. Without question, it’s time to get inside, who knows who’s watching you.

As soon as you reach the front door there’s a shuffling noise inside, you freeze, listening for it again. It never comes so you take your chances, pulling out your knife and bracing for an attack.

As soon as the door fully opens you come face to face with a crossbow–a familiar crossbow.

“Daryl…” You found him. What are the chances you both come across the same cabin, miles away from home, and at the same time. Like–one in a thousand, a sign someone up there doesn’t always have it out for you. He lowers his crossbow and pulls you into a tight hug, almost crushing your bones. It doesn’t matter though, you always loved his rare hugs. He’s very sweaty…and his skin is warm, too warm. You pull back to look at him, his gorgeous blue eyes, the scar that goes from above his brow to a little under his eye, his brown goatee that is turning into an alluring white. 

“You okay?” He nods, pulling away from you to shut the cottage door, setting a chair in front of it to keep anyone else from coming in. “What ‘bout  you? No bites..?” He asks as he goes to sit by his pack, a perfect view of the front door. 

“No bites…You?” 

…Silence.

At first you think he didn’t hear you, so you repeat yourself, a bit louder this time.

“Daryl, did you hear me? Did you get bit?” 

…again, Silence. He turns to you, looking you in the eyes and still not answering. Everything slowly starts to come together in your mind, his temperature, him pouring sweat even though it’s 30 degrees outside, the dark bags under his eyes…He got bit. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, the panic is slowly infecting your brain, making you run through every possible scenario of how this could’ve happened. Did it even happen? He hasn’t confirmed nor denied the question…Maybe he did and you just couldn’t hear him, you were a bit shaken up still, were you? It had been three hours since you and your group got attacked. Anything from then would’ve worn off by now.

“Show me.” The words barely come out of your mouth, your body and mind plagued by the rising anxiety from not getting an answer to a very crucial question these days. He slowly lifts the bottom of his shirt, a human bite right above his right hip, red with dark purple and green veins running up his side. Seeing it makes it all real, maybe..maybe it isn’t though–maybe it’s makeup or…or–fuck. The only thing you can feel now is the warm tears rolling down your face, informing you that you’re crying.

What’s ironic is that you were so sure you would go first, you wish you went first, this is horrible–you hate this feeling. He drops his shirt, covering the bite and sitting down by his pack. 

“Can..Can we cut it out?” He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Cut it out? I’d die from blood loss…I’m screwed either way,”

“Daryl, what if we–”

“No. It’s too late…” He dismisses you, any hope he had already diminished as he came to peace with this. No fucking way he’s just going to leave you in this shitty world, alone. He looks down, sitting in silence, waiting for you to process all of it. You move around quietly and quickly, making sure the doors and windows are secure–that nothing could get in…or out. After checking and clearing everything you sit next to Daryl, preparing for what you are about to say.

“How did you want to do this?”  He doesn’t answer for a moment, thinking over his choices.

“I don’t wanna turn…” He looks at you, tears blurring his vision. It was very rare to see Daryl cry, and when you did–it was bad. You gently grab his arm, trying to provide some comfort in this sensitive time. Your plan is already set in stone, he can’t change it, and you definitely won’t.

“Alright…Well, we’ve got a few options. One: We can sit here, spending our last moments together, I can shoot us after you…y’know or… Two: You turn and I’ll let you bite me. We can be together when I come back.”

“Wha’ do you mean “Shoot us”...You ain’t dyin’ here.”  

You unholster your gun, checking how many bullets you have left. Two bullets, it’s perfect. Laying the gun on your lap–safety on– just so you don’t miss your chance. 

“I ain’t leaving you here either. It’s death, or we both turn– your choice.”

For a moment he looks devastated. The thought of throwing away your life for him, well not many people have done that. Especially not the ones he used to love. Daryl felt helpless, he had no choice, he’s going to die in this stupid looking cabin with the love of his life and she was coming with him.

word count: 1,150

miss my baby 💔💔💔

C U L8TER! 💚

[dixonsstinkysock]

Whistle in the Dark

AN: Forgive me if some things are wrong, I haven’t seen S1 in a hot minute. I’m working on pt.2 for “It’s Temporary”, but I’m going through a jayvik withdrawal so give me some time, please. It’s actually so bad, if anyone has any suggestions on how to deal with this please tell me 😭. It’s crazy we’ll never see these characters again unless they get short cameos in the spinoffs. Anyways,, onto the story :(( This is how I cope.

Edit: it’s currently 4/11/25 and I’m going through my drafts. I’m never going to finish this so….take it as it is💚

Jayce Talis. Some geek scientist who’s apartment blew up from his own experiments—which were illegal by the way. You personally don’t think he should’ve been let out so soon but…this is how the council worked. The accused are put on a pedestal infront of witnesses and the council themselves. Right in the center area of the table, the blinds are shut and the spotlight puts the pressure onto them.

Many crumble from the stress, which is sometimes funny to watch. This specific case however…boringggg. It was pretty obvious with what you should do, Mr. Talis needed to be locked up and investigated for illegally experimenting with dangerous objects.

But noooooo, he’s special. As soon as Mel Medarda caught wind of his case, she was intrigued. Gods know what she’s planning.

Jayce’s apology being stated strongly throughout the room snaps you out of your daydreaming. He stands tall, voice firm, but he’s nervous. It’s obvious, although his breathing’s calm and his head is down, his right thumb rubs back and forth on that strange bracelet he has. You’ve seen it before, during the galas the Kiramman’s have hosted—anywhere you’ve seen him. He always has that bracelet thing on.

Before you know it, one by one, each council member raises their hand. Unfortunately for you, you haven’t paid much attention to him speaking or anyone else’s argument. The other members look at you, expectantly.

You not having raised your hand to vote was not an everyday thing. As much as you would love to disagree with whatever they said, since you weren’t paying attention you don’t have any argument. Finally, you decide to squish everyone’s excitement and raise your hand as well, hearing the accused and his mother let out a deep breath.

You were able to catch him leaving the council room, matching his speed with grace. “Excuse me, Mr. Talis-” He spins around to face you, his mother’s hand resting on his back. “May I help you, Councilor L/N?”

His hands are clasped together in front of him again, thumb back to rubbing that blue stone centered on his wrist. You greet his mother, exchanging names and pleasantries. “Here is not a good place for my planned chat, too many…ears.” You glance around. “Meet me at my estate tomorrow? around noon?”

Jayce glances at his mother, his expression confused while hers, slightly excited.

“Uh—Of-Of course!” He clears his throat “Of course, I will be there.”

You smile, patting him on his arm. “Great, I will see you then.” You turn to his mother, clasping her hands in yours. “It was wonderful meeting you Ms. Talis.”

“And you as well, Councilor (L/N).” Jayce’s mother smiles kindly at you and returns the hand hold. You turn from them, making your way towards the nearest exit and stepping out.

[dixonsstinkysock]

Does anyone think Daryl had his license? Like he can drive obviously, butttt did he have his license? He had that blue-ish green truck but was that even his?

If he did, who took him to get it and who paid for it??? In my country (America) a minor cannot get their license without a parent/guardian signature—maybe he wasn’t even a minor if he got it. Daryl didn’t have a stable job pre-apocalypse that I know of, and most likely didn’t have the money to spend on a license…not saying he was shit broke but he had to pay for food and (possibly) Merle stole his money for drugs… (I believe this)

I have too much free time 😭

Headcannon— Merle taught him how to drive and Daryl just never got his license.

[dixonsstinkysock]

dance with me.

summary - it’s a chaotic good, she looked like a girl you’d sacrifice yourself for.

pairing - finn shelby x reader

warnings - none

notes - season 4? he is actually the cutest patootie ive ever seen. i just realized finn looks bald in the photo and its killing me. JOHN ISNT DEAD I REFUSE.

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

The smell of alcohol and cigarettes that filled the air paired with the adrenaline of dancing with Esme was electrifying. It felt like you were on top of the world, that no one could touch you, it was surreal.

Little did you know, Finn felt the same way you did. He didn’t need the adrenaline of dancing or a buzz from multiple whiskey’s, one after another. He just needed to see you. Having you in his line of sight made him feel surreal, made the world feel brighter.

You’ve known Esme since you were a child, you were at her wedding with John, you were there for all of her children’s birth’s. You only visited every now and then and didn’t meet Finn until a few months ago. You were getting older and Esme thought it was stupid you only came by a few times a year, if she was lucky, so you and her agreed to start meeting up together weekly. Sometimes you two would go out for a walk, other times you both would stay at her home and entertain the children, have tea.

That’s how you and Finn met. Esme invited you over for a family dinner at Her and John’s place. You and Finn were reluctantly sat at the kid’s table with the rest of the children, dodging green beans and spoonful’s of mashed potatoes. Eventually you two gave in and started a food fight between the entire family, having to clean the entire kitchen by yourselves after.

Months later you both have gotten closer, you’ve moved in with Esme and John to help out with the kids…and see Finn, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them.

Finn thinks about the first time he saw you constantly. You looked heavenly, as you usually do, but seeing you for the first time felt different. He almost believed in God for a minute, that he sent him an angel. Yeah, his brother’s teased him the rest of the night, saying he was practically drooling. Just like they’re doing now.

“Oi, Finn, close that mouth of yours, brother. You look like a damn dog!”

Finn’s gaze remained on you, only glancing away for a second when he heard his eldest brother speak. John rests an arm on Finn’s shoulders, leaning back against his seat. “I’m surprised you two aren’t together yet.” That gets Finn’s attention “What? What are you talking about?” John smirks and sips on his drink “You and (Y/N) aren’t as sneaky as you think…”

Before Finn could follow up with the conversation your voice was heard, making him forget about the little remark John made. Out of breath and laughing, you and Esme continue to spin each other around.

“Finn! Come join us!” He’s a little taken aback that you’re asking him to dance with you, even though it’s not just you, it’s you and Esme but still. You wanted him to dance with you. Your hand grabbing his arm brought him back to the present, dragging him to the middle of the Garrison. Tables and chairs long moved to the side to make room for everyone.

As soon as Finn steps into dancing with you the song is slowed down, the performer’s Tommy’s hired for tonight taking a break from the fast-paced music.

“Oh…well, not the dance I thought we’d be doing but any dance is a good dance, right?” Wrapping your arms around his neck, relaxing into him as he wraps his around your waist. Now that the adrenaline is gone, you realized you needed this break…and maybe another drink.

“John and Esme know.”

You whip your head up to look at Finn. “What?!” He’s looks down at you, away from where John and Esme were now slow dancing, just like you two.

“John mentioned it right before you pulled me over here. Said we weren’t as sneaky as we thought…” You let your head fall on his chest, Finn hearing a small thump—and feeling it. You two continue to sway to the music, letting the world fade away as you get lost in the soft melody. It wasn’t until Finn nudged you did you realize the music had stopped, other couple’s sitting back down or grabbing another drink, the chatter once again growing louder.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Trying to prove to Finn he was completely wrong was not an easy feat. You have been debating about which gender was better, obviously you were on the woman’s side and he was on the men’s. “Just because you males can “cum and go” without any repercussions doesn’t mean you’re better!” Finn looks at you with a stunned look on his face.

“That’s not what I said!”

“Sounded like it…” You kick another rock in your way, it jumping around until it disappears in the grass. “All I said was that from a general standpoint—…men are viewed to be above…a…nevermind.” You spin your head around, almost breaking your neck to look at him.

“Say it.”

“…No. I love women, is what I meant.”

…

“I’ll believe you for now…but women are still superior. It’s exhausting watching kids all day, cooking and cleaning and don’t even get me started on if a lady has to work on top of all that!”

word count: 882

This was kinda a short one…do not fear I have longer fics coming!!! Finn is such a sweetheart I love him,,

C U L8TER! 💚

[dixonsstinkysock]

In God’s hands.

A/N: I had this dream about Daryl being kidnapped and perceived as jesus…like being hung up on the cross and everything, very strange. He was trying to convince them he wasn’t who they thought he was—idek don’t ask. Gave me this idea, also paired with all the Ethel Cain I’ve been listening to…

“These crosses all over my body

Remind me of who I used to be

Give myself up to him in offering

Let him make a woman out of me”

This wasn’t the first time Daryl had fell asleep standing but…this hurt more. Hushed whispers—prayers could be heard in the large church. A community. Hundreds on men, women, even children were gathered on their knees. Praying, maybe even begging, for forgiveness of their sins. Not even barely coming to, a burning, throbbing sensation flowing through Daryl’s hands, arms, legs and feet. His eyes were dry, throat dryer, sweating bullets with the pounding headache from the crown of thorns piercing his head.

Daryl didn’t cry often, only for the sweetest or most dreadful moments. Glenn’s death, His marriage, the birth of his first son, the death of his first son…

All of a few tears he could muster, the burning sensation in his eyes growing. He could barely see, but he could hear. Screams of men, women, and children were haunting, reminding him of his boy’s death. How his mother wailed, how she couldn’t let go of his small body. He wasn’t small…no, he just turned seventeen. He looked small to Daryl, so tiny and frail…

Daryl could hear the women’s prayers, begging to be forgiven—begging for their children to be saved from this cruel world.

“I'm just a child, but I'm not above violence

My mama raised me better than that

When the preacher talks, that man demands his silence

And daddy said, "Shoot first, then run and don't look back"”

Daryl didn’t have the best childhood, his mother burnt her and their house to the ground when he was only five, Merle left a little after that to get away from their abusive father, Daryl could only dream he would’ve took him with him. Unfortunately, he was stuck with his drunk old man, teaching him how to sneak around, how to defend himself, how to run away. He cried for his mommy when it first started, for Merle…he didn’t understand.

The town’s pastor would visit everyone every saturday before church on sunday. He tended to spend more time at Daryl’s trailer than anyone else, he could feel the tense air when he had only knocked on the front door. A young boy with no mother, no brother, and a shady father barely coherent most days.

Everyone knew the Dixons business. Hard not to when the town has barely over 20 people. The preacher tried to help Daryl from a distance, well…more like recruit. He would tell him that God would fix everything, that he would heal the broken and lead the lost. Buncha’ bullshit is what Daryl thought. God never stopped the fists coming down on him night and day, God never stopped the leather belt from breaking the skin on his back, God never stopped his own father from almost killing him. He did, he was the one who ran away, he was the one who hid, not God.

“So take me down to the river

And bathe me clean

Put me on the back of your white horse to ride

All the way to the chapel, let you wash all over me”

It felt like hours until Daryl awoke again, now breathing easier and pain in his body subsiding briefly. The sound of horse hooves stepping against the ground were what was first heard, then a short low whistle. Some type of signal?

Everything felt soft, and warm, a contrast to the cold and hard surface he was previously on. He felt clean, not caked in dirt, mud or blood anymore. The gentle breeze blows the brunette wavy hair from his face, calming him as he unwillingly falls out of consciousness again.

“I've killed before and I'll kill again

Take the noose off, wrap it tight around my hand

They say, "Heaven hath no fury like a woman scorned"

And baby, Hell don't scare me, I've been times before”

Now clothed and fed, recovering in the small, cluttered room, he could do nothing but stare at the ceiling. Waiting…

Every now and then someone would come in to keep him company, to talk and show they meant no harm, gain a strong bond between each other. They needed it if they were all going to survive.

She was new—not new to the group but this was her first time coming to see him. Her name was (Y/N), she was strong, held herself well. You have to in this world, the dead was walking now, it was their world, all the living could do was try to make it out alive.

After their first meeting, she started to bring some of his meals, their talks lasting until after dark—or at least that’s what she said. Their hideout was underground, no windows, no easy ways in…or out. Daryl wasn’t clear to start walking again so he was stuck in this bed. All of their chats slowly melt together, not seeing the light of day seemed to have a large impact on Daryl. But, her most recent visit stuck with him, something about what she said…

“Still can’t wrap my head around what’s happened…I mean, they saw me as their sign? That after everything, their God would come save them now…” Daryl slightly adjusted the pillow behind him, sitting up and eating was about the only movement he could get nowadays.

“I ain’t no savior, I’ve killed before…that sure as hell wasn’t holy.”

“You might not be free from all sins but who is? You kill to survive, that doesn’t make you a bad man. It makes you a survivor.” She smirks “At least you aren’t afraid to be banished to the depths of hell” She says, obviously mocking the cult’s words.

He softly chucked with her, “Yeah…Hell don’t scare me, I’ve already been.”

“So take me down to the river

And bathe me clean

Put me on the back of your white horse to ride

All the way to the chapel, let you wash all over me”

“I’ll try to make this as comfortable as possible for you” (Y/N) takes Daryl’s arm into hers, gently but firmly helping him down from the white, shire horse.

“Thanks but…let’s just get this over with.”

The sun’s reflection off the lake gave him a little bit of privacy as she delicately scrubbed his old and worn body. Daryl had finally been given the clear to start walkimg again, the injuries in his feet now healed a considerable amount.

The warm water felt like heaven paired with the light scrubbing of the torn rag. Daryl looked down at her body, now noticing many deep scars littering her chest and arms.

“They uh…they got ahold of me once. The cult…same ones who got you.”

“These crosses all over my body

Remind me of who I used to be

And Christ, forgive these bones I've been hiding

Oh, and the bones I'm about to leave, yeah”

Daryl now stands at the head of their table, a map infront of him. Going over the plan again, he heard her footsteps getting closer and closer. “You should be resting.” She steps next to him, brushing the stray hair from his face and leaning against his shoulder.

“Just wanted to go over the plan again…”

“Don’t be nervous, Daryl. We’ll get you home, I promise.”

He sighs, now looking at her, her hair was pulled back, eyes and skin shone softly from the glow of the candlelight. “Come with me…”

“I wish I could, but I have people here, people I need to protect.”

“They could come with us—we have communities—we live.

“We can’t leave. Not while that cult is still roaming—ruining everything they touch. What happens if they grow stronger? Recruit more people and come after you again?” She takes a few steps away, rubbing her temples and taking a deep breath.

“We have to stop them, now—here.”

Daryl doesn’t say anymore, he just looks at her, preparing for what’s about to come tomorrow.

“And take me down to the river

And bathe me clean, yeah

Put me on the back of your white horse to ride

All the way to the chapel, let you wash all over me, yeah”

Daryl could still remember the feeling of her hands, her body against his. Her hands trailing down his back then were a different feeling from when she was only washing him. Slowly, taking the time to map out all of what he considered “imperfections”.

It felt like a lifetime since she passed trying to get him home. Daryl now sits alone by her makeshift grave, and small cross with her weapon and name. All that was left of her, that and his memories.

Ended kinda freaky but oh well

Hope you all enjoyed! Love you, c u l8ter! 🫶🏽

[dixonsstinkysock]

Orphic.

summary - “Find what you love and let it kill you.”—Charles Bukowski

pairing - john shelby x reader, distant! john shelby x esme

warnings - AU!!! suggestive thingys…curses. idk.

notes - I was listening to Televangelism by Ethel Cain so…yeah (also I don’t know much about Romani witchcraft or witchcraft in general and google…didn’t help much so I’m using what I know. So sorry if its horribly wrong😭)

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

“Look at you…My monster come to find me.”

A sharp and loud clicking sound was like clockwork, every five minutes it would come back. John begged Tommy to have someone look at the car and all he got back was a “I’ll get to it, John.” Moments like this are when he slightly loathes his elder brother. Talking to Tommy, when he has no interest in what you’re saying, was like running into a stone wall, gets you nowhere. Usually the clicking wouldn’t bother John as much since he’s not normally driving for long, but this time, hearing that bloody noise for 3 hours would drive anyone crazy.

His kids were running circles around him and Esme, his Aunt suggesting a getaway together. In the woods, away from civilization—anyone, for only a few short days. At first, the third Shelby brother was hesitant to be that far away from his children for that long but was eventually broken down and taken to pack some of their things. It’s been nice so far. Away from his kids, the business…Tommy. Don’t get him wrong—his family is everything to him but everyone needs a break.

His bladder seemed to think the same, pulling the car over to the side of the dirt road he gets out, doing his business on one of the thin trees nearby.

Zipping up his grey striped trousers, he turns and spots a moderate-sized lake. The crystal blue water almost see through to the bottom, small schools of fish could be seen swimming by. He steps closer…the body of water entrancing as he reaches the edge. The sun was just setting, the soft waves harboring the sun’s warmth as it neared closer to the end of the day.

John was sure he turned the car off—so why was he still hearing that fucking clicking sound. It sounded closer this time, almost like it was coming from the lake? He couldn’t see anything and there was no one around…maybe he’s just tired. He had been driving for a good while. Turning back towards the car he sees something from the corner of his eye.

A woman.

A lone woman…bathing in the lake…in the middle of nowhere. John knew he should’ve averted his eyes but there was something about her, something pulling him in, away from reality. The way she moved—in sync with the water, slow and unpredictable. He blinks. The mysterious woman stills, her chest down blanketed by the deep blue water. He can only see her backside, wondering if she stilled in fear or if she knows he’s watching.

“John!”

The water is cold, coming up to his knees, soaking his shoes and pants. The dark-haired man spins around, away from the lady in the lake, now facing his wife, Esme. “Yeah?” The short brunette makes her way towards her husband, father of her children “What are you doing in there?” She laughs a bit as he walks out of the water and wraps her arms around his neck. “Thought I’d lost you down here…you’ve been a while.” Gently grabbing her waist he smiles “Got distracted, there was a—“ He turns to point at the girl in the water but theres nothing there. Not anymore.

“A what?” She says as she peeks over his shoulder “Nothing…Might just be seeing things.” The couple heads back to their car, hand in hand. Finally reaching the little cottage the Shelby family recently purchased for things like this. After unpacking their things for the next couple days and settling down for the afternoon John’s mind can’t help but go back to that lake. Back to the mysterious lady in the wilds. It was strange how she just disappeared into thin air like she did…maybe she was never there in the first place.

Seemed…like magic. Now, John himself never believed in any sorts of witchcraft or magic like his Aunt Polly or Esme did. He always thought it was a bunch of shit and if the odds were in your favor—luck.

His mind finally starts to clear when he feels his wife press soft, wet kisses from his jaw down to his chest. Might as well make the most of this trip right? By “making the most of it” he just means fucking all day everyday. No time like the present.

——————————

You felt his eyes on you. You heard the hitch of his breath as he spotted you. He doesn’t know you’ve been waiting for him, waiting for him to find you. He was so close…but he had to bring her. Of course it was to be expected, she’s his wife but still, a girl can hope.

You know he won’t forget you. You know he’ll find you again, soon…sooner than he thinks.

“If it’s meant to be, then it will be.”

——————————

John can’t seem to shut his eyes, not for a lack of trying but he feels like he’s being split in half. Like something is tearing him apart that he’s left behind. Maybe he just misses his kids, being so far away from them and not having easy access to them makes him a little nervous—it feels like more than that though…The lady in the lake appears every now and then, John wonders what happened to her.

He’s getting restless, lying wide awake in the soft velvet blankets, next to his wife who has succumbed to a deep sleep. He stands, slowly, searching for his discarded clothes as quietly as he can. Might as well go for a smoke.

The cool night air sent shivers down his spine as he exhaled the thick smoke. John wasn’t used to the quiet—not like this. No screaming children, No gunshots or bombs…just the rustling leaves and soft moonlight. At least he thought so.

“Hello?!”

He turns to the cottage door expecting to see Esme up and calling for him.

��She’s not. So, who was?

“Help!”

He heard it again, confirming he wasn’t just hearing things. His Aunt Polly would tan his hide if she knew what he was doing now, following random voices through the woods, calling for help. Or maybe not—he got lucky thats for sure, no witches or curses tonight. Only some poor girl trapped under her beast of a horse.

“Oh Thank Goodness! I hoped luck was in my favor tonight…” She takes a breath of relief, hopeful she’ll make it home tonight.

“You alright, Love?” John asks as he makes his way toward her, assessing the damage as much as he could without moving anything yet. “Yes, well, besides my stuck leg, obviously.”

“I’m John” He moves to the backside of the horse to find a good angle, one of which he can safely get this poor lady up and out from under this beast. “I’m (Y/N), I would say it’s nice to meet you but, there’s better circumstances.” You let out a breathy chuckle leaning back on your hands, preparing to pull yourself out as he lifts your horse up.

Dropping your horse a short way back by down to the ground he turns fully to you, gently grabbing your ankle to see the damage done. “It doesn’t look broken but then again—I’m no Doctor.” You hiss as his hands move your ankle the slightest bit.

“I won’t get very far on it that’s for sure…I’ll have to camp out here tonight.” John sets your ankle back down. “How far away is where you’re heading?”

“Not too far, a little ways up the road. At least, I think so. There’s a small cottage around here that I use for a landmark so, wherever that is.”

“Yeah, I know where that’s at, just came from there.” He stands, stretching out his legs. “I’ve got a car. I can drive you home.” You head snaps to him from your rummaging in your bag.

“Oh—I couldn’t let you do that, Sir, you’ve done more than enough.”

“Please, it’s no hassle, Love. I’m not gonna leave a lady out here with a shit ankle.”

You and John made it to his car, him carrying you on his back, piggyback style. Him leaving a note on the kitchen counter for his wife in case he didn’t make it back before she woke up. The car ride was silent for the most part, a short conversation here and there, John didn’t even realize that the usual clicking from the car was non existent. He felt whole again, not being torn into half.

There was a sense of familiarity between you two. Like you’ve known each other for years. It was comforting, especially since you just got into a car with a complete—well—mostly complete stranger. John told you about his wife, his kids, himself…That’s the only part you really tuned in for. He was a fascinating man with a deep personality. He had a passion for his family and his business. He was strong, different…alluring. In the short time you’d met him, you’d fallen for his charm. He wasn’t going anywhere.

In exchange you told him about yourself, your family, what you did for work. Before you knew it, you had reached home and it was time to part from your savior. John pulled up your driveway and as close as he could to your door, turning the car off and sitting back. “Well, this is it.” You look at him “Thank you for everything, again. I’m in your debt-”

“Ah—It was nothin’ , Love, don’t fuss over it.”

“Alright…Well, Thank you again, Mr. Shelby.”

Saying goodnight and shaking hands, you two parted ways. Him heading back to his sleeping wife while you watch him drive off from your window.

You’ve always had a good memory.

——————————

John spoke with you once more after he rescued you from your horse that night. It was exactly a month after his and Esme’s little getaway. Exactly a month since he spoke to you, he couldn’t get you out of his head. Everytime he closed his eyes your face flashed into his mind, seeped into his dreams. Almost like you were haunting him, he hoped everything was okay on your end, contemplating going to visit you one day.

This was ridiculous. He didn’t know you, all he did was pick up some dead horse and drive you home—

“Oi! John!”

The brunette jolts out of his thoughts, completely forgetting he was in public, at the Garrison. Searching for where the obnoxious, thick-accented voice came from, his eldest brother comes into view.

“Arthur…” John says in a whisper, uncharacteristically, he’s not all there. Not tonight anyhow, everything feels different—feels bleak…grey…boring. On a normal night John would be enjoying his evening with a new whore for the week and as many glasses of whiskey he can keep down.

Arthur and Finn, who came from thin air, sit down in the snug with John. Sharing a drink…or six, a knock on the door brings them back to earth. A girl in a green silk gown peeks in, opening the door wider once she’s seen John. It was the girl that was stuck under her horse, here, in the Garrison…looking for someone.

“Pardon me but I was told I could find John Shelby in here.”

Arthur gestures for her to come in, shutting the door behind her. “Come in, Love…” You smile at John, grabbing the money out of your purse and setting it infront of him on the table. “I want you to have this—and I won’t take it back—you’ve been good to me…more than I deserved anyhow.”

The three brothers are silent as you walk out before John could respond or stop you, leaving the Garrison entirely. Arthur, as usual, is the first to speak out.

“What the fuck was that?”

——————————

It warm in John Shelby’s home, too warm. He felt fucking crazy, these ‘hallucinations’ he’s been having have been the worst. It’s gotten worse over time, everywhere he looks he sees her, sees you. Everytime he blinks or tries to sleep he sees you. John hasn’t slept in weeks, that paired with the constant work Tommy has been putting on him hasn’t helped. He can’t keep going on like this, something has to stop—to end. John finally manned up and spoke to his Aunt Pol about his ‘symptoms’. How his skin would itch when he was too far from home, how his mind was plagued with the mysterious women, how as soon as he took her to bed that night everything seemed to melt away. John’s had relations before, he’s got six kids for christsake, but this wasn’t normal. At first he thought maybe he finally caught something—it was bound to happen eventually.

His Aunt thought differently, ‘you’ve been cursed’ she said. Although he never believed in any of that gypsy voodoo shes always talking about, he was starting to think differently this time. What’s happening to him isn’t normal and maybe he’s losing his mind by letting her do this to his house but…better safe than sorry.

After Polly does all of her praying and protective spells as she called it, everyone gathers in John and Esme’s living room. No one was aloud to leave once they entered, not for a few days at least. Who knows who else the supposed curse is after.

“Alright, Pol, We’re all here. You’ve done your silly chants and shit—“

“It’s not silly, Arthur, this is important” Polly cuts him off “Your brother has been cursed. This is nothing to joke about.”

Arthur sits down next to John who is visibly stressed,

“Right…Right, nothing to joke about, also nothing to worry about John-boy. Your house has been protected by the great god and your aunt’s magics” Arthur cackles as he hands John the bottled whiskey.

“That’s enough, Arthur, leave John alone.”

Tommy walks in behind him, taking a seat across from his brothers and sitting next to Polly. She stands, “I think us women ought to get started on dinner, hm?” She subtly gives a look to the 4 other ladies in the room, hoping they’ll catch the hint. Of course, not everyone does— “I’m not cooking for them!—“

“Ada. Please come help us in the kitchen, just tonight dear..” The short-haired woman sighs, standing from her place on the floor with Karl and heads to the kitchen with the rest of the women. “John, why don’t you head upstairs and get some rest. Clear your mind, yeah?” John nods, almost in a trance as he stands from the couch making his way towards the staircase and his room when—

ping!

Everyone freezes, on edge, wondering where the noise came from. “…Y-you all heard that right? I’m…I’m not fookin’ crazy…”

No one moves yet, all afraid something might pop off with one step. Finn is the first one to take a step, startled by something in the corner of his eye. He slowly walks towards the kitchen window and peels open the curtain, the beige fabric catching on his fingers.

“Aunt Pol?…There’s someone out there.”

Polly is the next to move, quickly and carefully standing next to Finn. Pulling him away from the window and taking a look herself. “Looks like the lady we talked to at the Garrison, you think she needs help?”

“Hush!”

Silence blankets the room, the only sounds heard are the fire crackling and John’s heavy breathing. Somehow he was able to make his way to the back door, his hand on the handle and his eyes stuck outside the back window. Tommy can assume what he planned or is planning on doing and puts a hand out. “John…”

“Come over here, let go of the handle, brother..”

Tommy’s soft calm voice breaks John out of his trance for a moment, turning back to look at his older brother. “She’s everywhere, Tom.”

“What do you mean, John?”

“I mean she’s fookin’ everywhere!” His hand gripping the door handle tighter now “She follows me, Tommy, in my brain! She haunts my dreams!”

“Just…let go and come here—“

“Johnny!”

The brunette whips his head around, facing the back doors window again. He couldn’t believe his ears, there’s no way this is real. Martha, his beloved Martha, the mother of his eldest four children, was there. Standing in the fields behind his house. Just as beautiful as the day he left her. She wasn’t alone.

Locked arms with you, standing out in that field, dressing blowing in the wind. You two looked peaceful, like you were happy. He wanted that.

“Martha…” John’s hand starts to turn the handle, his eyes glued onto his late wife.

Tommy and Arthur lunged for him but were pushed back and onto the ground by their younger brother. Him making his way outside. “John!” Esme is after him next, stepping over her two brothers in law when she’s stopped by Arthur, miraculously catching her before she stepped out of the door. “No! Let me go—What’s wrong with him?!”

He thought he was there, that he reached her. In a blink of an eye she was gone, there was only you left. The air was cold, nipping at his nose. It was all he could feel, that, his heart shattering and his mind slipping. His pupils dialate to the size of marbles when he meets your eyes, the beautiful blue now lost to the endless black.

You had a hold of him now. He wasn’t going anywhere.

It was intoxicating. The smell of your perfume, the fabric of your dress brushing against his clothed legs, your fingers tangling in his hair. John felt whole again, how he felt when Martha was around, how he felt after the birth of his first daughter. Maybe Martha is where you are from. That would explain why he feels like this, he’s so close…so, so close but still so far.

The truth is she isn’t here. Not with him, not with you and not where ever you came from. But there’s no pain, no bombs, no guns, no dying men left and right, no screaming children or fear. It’s just you. It’s all you and he’s okay with that as long as he gets to see her again.

His family feels differently as they watch him slit his own throat and fall to his knees in front of you. His body disappears when as your dress enveloped him, like he was never there at all.

“I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.” - Sylvia Plaith

word count: 3,076 (I could’ve sworn this was longer but whatever)

Guys I’m so sorry that ending was kinda shitty 😭 I’m half asleep but I wanted to get this finished so bad. I tend to announce things and then lose motivation and scrap it…anyways I hoped you enjoyed some of it

C U L8TER! 💚

[dixonsstinkysock]

Happy New Years, Everyone!!! New Year’s resolution? Drop the unloyal 🫶🏽