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monstersflashlight · 6 days ago

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Patreon Commission for anon

Request: Twin aliens with four arms x fem reader. For the most part full creative freedom for the story. There are just two things to have: breeding kink and within the alien community mates has been a myth but after spending time with reader and in a moment a danger their eyes turn completely one color and they realize reader is their mate. Feel free to add anything else that you want.

A/N: For easier reading and simpler writing, I named the two alien twins. Enjoy!

Two aliens, eight hands

Alien (Xyph) and Alien (Juni) x fem!reader || breeding, soulmates, oral sex, double penetration, dirty talk (lowkey), sharing is caring

You expected a lot of things working on a spaceship, but definitely not wanting to bang two twins. But good goddess if they aren’t the most amazing aliens you’d ever seen. Big and blue, four arms, tall as a tree and with skin so shiny they looked like porcelain. But for some reason, instead of making them weird, it only made them hotter. You had been carrying the biggest crush on them both since you arrived, and by the way they acted towards you… maybe it wasn’t as one-sided as you thought.

They’ve saved you. You were about to die, the big alien about to squeeze you until you were nothing but mashed human in their stomach… But they saved you. Your two amazing and fucking hot as hell coworkers. You are ready to fall to your knees and tell them how fucking grateful you are, how amazing they were and maybe even profess your undying love for them.

Maybe they weren’t into sharing, but as far as you have read, it was normal in their species to share partners…

But before you can say anything about it, you look up and let out a high pitched screech. “Why are your eyes like that?” Juni’s eyes are completely green. Solid moss green.

“Like what?” Juni asks, alarmed.

Xyph stares at him like he just grew a second head. “Your eyes are solid…” The amazement in his voice was almost palpable. You look between them with enough confusion to bury multiple bodies.

“What?” Juni turned to look at his brother, just in time to see that his eyes were also a solid color. Deep ocean blue. Freaky, but hot. “Yours, too, brother!” He exclaims it as if it’s something to be happy about, as if it’s the best news he’s ever received. What the fuck...

“I thought it was a myth…” Xyph lets out in a whisper, looking at you with enough heat to warm your entire body inside and out.

“What was a myth?” You cut them, confused by their sudden change of subject. You can feel their eyes in your body, checking out every inch of it, and making your blood boil in a horny way. Why were they so fucking handsome and looking at you like they wanted to eat you for fuck’s sake.

“We… I…” Xyph tries, but his voice stutters, looking at his brother for help.

“You are our mate,” he says it as if that’s supposed to mean something to you, but when you look at them with the same level of confusion, Juni chuckles. “I guess that means nothing to you. Okay, so…”

And then they tell you about how mates were supposed to be a myth. How there thought it wasn’t even possible that you existed. They felt the attraction to you stronger than they ever felt, but they were unsure humans could feel it back. They told you about the legends of mates being perfect for each other, about how you were supposed to be their forever partner… And you tried to remain calm and not climb them like trees.

“Okay,” you say when they finish explaining. They look at you with surprise again, and you have to contain a giggle.

“You… You need to understand that this is not a one time thing. We are talking about eternity. Your lifespan will be matched with ours. You will live a very long time with us. You will be our mate, our perfect match, for hundreds of human years.” Xyph sounds like he’s trying to convince you about something, but you are done. You want them, you have always wanted them, and knowing that you are their mate only adds to that desire, to that boiling need inside you.

“Okay…” You repeat, slowly this time. “So now what?” You really, really hope that the next step involves naked aliens and dicks pounding into your holes.

“We should claim you,” he confirms your suspicions. Your pussy is already tingly, and the confirmation that they are going to claim you only make it harder for you to focus. Your clothes feel too tight, your pussy too needy, you need to get naked and there should be two dicks inside of you. Any hole is a goal right now.

“Okay,” you tell them for the third time. You need to get naked ASAP. “Get naked,” you almost order.

Juni gasps as Xyph opens his eyes as much as possible. “Okay? You want that? You want… You want to be with us? With both of us?” Their faces are so confused you can’t hold back your laugh.

“Dude, have you seen you? You are hella hot, and there’s TWO OF YOU! Who would say no to that?” They look at you with equal smirks, but then you realize it almost feels like you only want them for their body, and add: “Also… I might be a bit in love with you two…” You confess, looking to the floor, shy all of sudden.

They don’t give you enough time to react, launching at you and claiming your mouth in turns until you don’t know who you are kissing. Not that you care, you are too focused on the way their forked tongue feels inside your mouth, the way their soft alien lips feel almost slippery against your human ones. It’s the best kiss (kisses?) you’ve ever had, and you can get enough. You pull at their hair, grab their necks and maybe even accidentally scratch some throats as you alternate your kisses, giving them enough attention. There’s hands everywhere, eight of them playing with you, touching you everywhere, and you can’t stop moaning.

You are so focused on kissing that you don’t realize they have torn your clothes off and got naked themselves. The second you pull away to breathe and look at their naked bodies in all their glory, your pussy gushes, and you are almost sure you are dripping down your legs. But again, you don’t care, because there’s too amazing alien dicks in front of you, and you have too available hands…

When you close your hands around their shafts, they groan in unison, making you moan in response, the symphony of your passion driving you into a frenzy of heat.

“Please…,” you whisper, not fully knowing who or what you are asking. But they do. They know perfectly well how to share you…

You find yourself on your back, Juni between your legs and Xyph kneeling next to your head. Some of their hands are on their own dicks, the rest exploring and teasing your body until you are breathless and needy. They are teasing your pussy and mouth with the tip. You shiver, opening your mouth to beg again.

But as soon as your mouth is open, Xyph is pushing his tip inside. You moan around him, his salty taste making you crave more, sucking him down as you help him jerk the part of his shaft that you can’t fit in your mouth. He moans and groans over you, whispering sweet nothings as if he’s chanting some kind of plea. He looks ethereal with his head thrown back in ecstasy… And you can’t get enough. You swallow around him, humming around his shaft and making him scream.

You pull back to tease him, but Juni chooses that moment to push his dick into your pussy. You scream his name, looking down in time to see him rub your clit with his thumb as he pushes and pushes until he’s so deep you can feel him in your chest. His hands are grabbing your butt and his free one is on your hip. It’s exhilarating and better than any dick you’ve ever tried (including the dildo of his species you bought).

Juni starts a slow pace, and you take Xyph back into your mouth, working your tongue around his tip until he’s whimpering your name, and Juni is going faster, harder… You moan around the dick in your mouth, and that only makes Juni go harder.

“I’m going to fill you so much you are going to be leaking my come for days, darling.” Juni tells you, your eyes rolling back into your head, the dick in your mouth twitching at the words. “Would you like that? Do you want to be so full of my come you can feel me for days shooting deep inside?” You moan, unable to respond as Juni pounds into you harder, faster.

Your brain short circuits, your whole body feeling electrified as Xyph pinches one of your nipples and pushes further into your throat. Two of his hands are holding your head, but the other two are playing with your nipples until your pussy is gushing around Juni.

Juni lets out a series of curses and you he finds the exact point where your brain short circuits and your body is sent into oblivion when the first orgasm washes over your body. Moaning around the dick in your mouth as Xyph pulls back until only the tip is resting against your tongue and your pussy is fluttering around Juni’s length. He moans your name, and you feel the first shot of come inside of you. It feels divine.

He pulls back and so does Xyph, moving until they are shoulder to shoulder and staring down at your tired form. “Your pussy looks so good all stretched and leaking my come… I think I’m going to keep you like that forever.” Juni’s words make you whimper, and you try to close your legs, but they keep them open, a finger (you don’t know who’s) pushes some of the leaking come back inside, and you moan again.

“Don’t be greedy, brother… It’s my turn,” Xyph says it in a tone that makes your whole body tremble, low and gruff and exactly like you feel sex should sound like.

You whimper when he slips his wet dick inside your stretched hole, starting a punishing pace that makes you chant his name. Juni helps himself to your boobs, kissing and sucking, marking you until they feel tender and your pussy is squeezing spasmodically around Xyph’s dick.

“I’m going to breed you so deep everyone who smells you will know who you belong to.” His words are enough to send you over the edge again. And Xyph is not far behind, pushing himself as far as he can go and releasing inside of you until you feel so full there might be a bulge in your lower abdomen. But you can’t look, your eyes can barely stay open, your body completely spent.

“Sleep now, mate… We’ll protect you,” Juni whispers, kissing your forehead.

But then Xyph adds: “We’ll fill you again when you wake up.” You chuckle at his words, but it sounds barely like a huff, too tired and spent to even laugh. With his promise, you slip into the dream-world, pussy full and heart content.

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cultofdixon · 7 months ago

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Day One to the Rest of our Lives

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Part 1 • Before The Outbreak - The Farm • The nurse next door always had a soft spot for the Dixons as they were her family. It took the end of the world and an almost near death experience to get the youngest Dixon to make a move • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Scars / Injuries / Blood Loss / Emergency Surgery / Abuse / Drug & Alcohol Consumption / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Before The Outbreak

“Merle you’re a fucking dumbass” Daryl groans trying to help walk a drunk and injured Merle up the stairs to their apartment.

“That bitch deserved it!” Merle shouted only to be shushed because of the time of night it was and most of the neighbors hated him.

Except, surprisingly, Y/N. Their next door neighbor that is rarely home or seen because her other home seems to be the hospital she works as a nurse at. One of the times their paths crossed was when Y/N went to the bar Merle frequents at and got blasted after a long day but still managed to give Merle stitches when he decided the bar window was nice to go through.

When the brothers reached the top of the steps, Daryl instantly noticed Y/N sitting on the floor propped up against her door. Merle squinted to see why his brother stopped.

“Y/N WAKE UP” Merle shouted causing Y/N to flinch awake and for Daryl to groan letting go of his brother making him fall onto the floor. “Bitch…”

Y/N blinked a few times to get the sleepiness out of her eyes as she gave a confused look to Merle’s still body on the floor. She was about to ask questions but decided not to and accept the extended hand coming from Daryl.

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Besides drunk, what else you wanna know?”

“Nothing” Y/N laughed a bit, bending down to grab her backpack to get her keys out. “He needs stitches?”

“Just an ice pack, I think imma let him hang there” Daryl crosses his arms looking at his now passed out brother watching Y/N walk over to him and rolling him on his side. “What’s that for?”

“In case he throws up. I’m gonna grab a blanket so he won’t be too uncomfortable out here” Y/N returns to her door unlocking it. “I know he may have ruined it but you want a beer?”

“More so a smoke than a drink” Daryl rubs the back of his neck giving a concerned look to his brother that Y/N noticed once she was halfway through the door.

After dropping off her stuff and taking her coat off, Y/N stepped out gesturing for Daryl to follow her lead in picking up Merle. Her by his legs and him by his arms. Eventually Merle got settled on her couch still on his side and with a trash can beside his head.

“We could’ve—-“

“Nah too many extra steps to get him back in your apartment. Besides, I’m a trained professional in case other shit happens” Y/N went over to her window as she spoke, opening it up enough for her to climb through with Daryl following shortly after.

One would think anyone wouldn’t want anything to do with the Dixon brothers mainly because Merle puts trash onto their name. But Y/N likes their company, Daryl’s mainly, because it keeps her sane and human. Working in a hospital so much to the point one is accused of “living there,” anyone would want normalcy.

It’s an added bonus finding themselves sat in the fire escape, sharing a cigarette from the pack that Y/N hides in the empty plant pot that the previous owners left at her apartment.

“I had to take a decontamination shower at the end of my shift because of the vomit and blood from that singular patient”

“Sounds awful” Daryl frowns, watching Y/N smoke for a moment as he kept his gaze on how tense she was for a while before finally relaxing after exhaling the smoke. Her eyes were exhausted just as the rest of her, but they told so much more that he worried for. “Ever thought of taking a break? Vacation more like”

“With all the hours I’ve got saved, I could. But I’ve been in the hospital for so long that I wouldn’t know what I’d even do”

“Uh…well you like Merle and I, you can join us for our hunting trip” Daryl put that up in the air, looking her curious expression. “It’ll be next month”

“I haven’t gone hunting since my old man was still around…” Y/N put out the last of her cigarette thinking about the option. “You sure Merle would be cool with it?”

He didn’t think that would work. Daryl shrugs as he looked back into the apartment where Merle laid on the couch snoring loudly. “The worse to happen is Merle would hit on yea for most of it”

“I’ve dealt with worse, trust me…a lot worse”

“So…?”

“I’d be happy to. As long as I get a ride from work. I wanna work as much as I can before taking a few days off”

“We can pick yea up from work. Merle will be on his bike and I’ll be taking the truck”

“Works for me, I’ll give you my stuff the day before” Y/N smiles and that quickly faded along with Daryl’s when both heard the eldest Dixon vomit his stomach out. “Yup. Love his company too”

During The Hunting Trip (and the start of the outbreak)

“You wear anything other than the scrubs?”

“Sundresses, but I wasn’t going to pack one of those for a hunting trip Merle” Y/N rolled her eyes, quickly stopping when she heard something. Merle quickly but stealthily followed the noise.

It felt unreal, how quick something can escalate from standing in the open waiting for either Dixon to come back from the noises they’ve heard…to falling back in shock to the undead stepping closer.

The closer it got, the more Y/N let the shock take over that when she reached for her knife…the sicko fell on her. But thankfully with a bolt in its skull. Y/N couldn’t register what had just happened until Merle kicked the corpse off of her body making her lock eyes with the equally shocked Daryl across from her.

“You alright girlie?” Merle asks, not waiting another second as he grabbed her upper arm pulling her up on her feet. “Come on speak! Are yea bit?”

“No I’m…uh what the fuck?!” Y/N shouted once it hit her letting Merle check her arms and neck before shoving him back. “Is this what that fucking radio broadcast was about?”

“Makes sense right about now. But the fact that one is out here…people makin’ camp and bringing those who’ve been infected out here with them”

“Fuck. The hospitals must be flooded with patients with symptoms before it reaches this stage.” The worry on her face only drew an annoyed one out of Merle and an equally concerned expression from Daryl but not for the strangers. “I have to go back, see if I can help or something!” Y/N stated as she started to make her way toward the truck.

“Doll, that won’t be a smart decision” Merle planted his hands on his hips continuing the annoyed look on his face until it turned to confusion when his brother quickly caught up with her.

“You can’t go back”

“I have to! I took an oath” Y/N scrambled a bit, putting her hunting rifle in the bed of the truck dropping her pack on the floor to grab a clean scrub top. “I didn’t spend years in school to not save people’s lives——“

“Y/N, if this shit spread. The hospital ain’t safe and I can’t lose you”

His words caused her to freeze in her place before turning toward him with a much softer expression compared to her worry filled one.

“W-We can’t lose you…okay? If they didn’t figure the virus out, I don’t know what you could do”

“I wish I could do something…” Y/N felt the burning sensation of tears building in her eyes forcing her to look away.

Daryl stood for a moment wanting to pull her into his arms, but both were startled by Merle’s crazed excitement when he found something off the corpses body.

They’ll have to get used to this…new life

The Quarry

“Does it still hurt?” Y/N frowns gently dabbing the cut on Carol’s cheek with a wet rag. She pulled the rag away to wet it more with water from her canteen. “Is he really helping Shane? Or waiting for you back at your tent”

“Knowing Ed, he’s waiting back at the tent. I’m just…thankful Sophia wasn’t there” Carol frowns, flinching when Y/N went back to cleaning up the blood giving her apologies for the suddenness. “You understand…don’t you?”

“I don’t get what you mean…”

“You know…being with them at the start of all this…I doubt they were good company” Carol scoffs when they both heard Merle shouting like usual at Shane. If they weren’t labeled “typical rednecks” when they first joined this group, then they would’ve seen it was Shane’s fault for what Merle was yelling at him for.

“You’ve got them wrong.” Y/N scoffed to her words, looking over at them in what looks to be an argument. Watching Daryl try to de-escalate the situation from how intense Merle decided to make it. “Me wrong too…I’ve known them for years. I was their neighbor and while Merle did have his moments, they were both still nice to me. Hell…even there for me when I needed it” she frowns looking back to her bag to take out a bandage for Carol’s cheek and once it was placed, she stood to her feet. “Give them the benefit of the doubt instead of judging right away…”

With that she took her leave toward her tent that was next to the Dixons which were a camp away from camp because a few shared private concerns making them isolate. Y/N wasn’t about to leave them even if Merle did make the comment when they first joined this group.

“She’s more like them” is what he said

“Stupid fuckin’ pig” Merle scoffs returning to their little campsite taking a seat beside Y/N who was just as annoyed as he was but more on the melancholy side of things while his was filled with rage.

Concern only washed over Daryl when he noticed her expression but he didn’t even get a second to say anything before Merle went off.

“Y’know I bet yea that motherfucker only wants me to go on that trip just so something bad can happen and I end up a sicko”

“Wait, what trip?” Y/N quickly turned to Daryl knowing he will give a better explanation of everything while Merle only focused on what mattered to him.

“Shane, the fucking moron that tells us not to hunt at a certain hour so he could do who knows what in the woods—-wants me to join the girlies, the Chinese kid, and the other two to go into Atlanta for supplies”

“Well, he’s Korean first of all…”

“Doll like I give a fu—-CK” Merle shouted when Y/N elbowed him in the side. “They using me as a goddamn escort nobody gonna give a fuck if I meet my maker out there”

“We do” Y/N gestured to Daryl and herself. “Merle, you’re more of muscle along a few of the others from the main group. You sure he didn’t ask for yea to make sure the others are safe?”

“That’s exactly how he put it, Merle is just dramatic” Daryl sets his crossbow down beside him once he sat on the ground with them. “They’ll die without us”

“As much as people can adapt, Daryl has a point here. Shane will only lose game if he went shooting his shotgun at deers and squirrels” Y/N leaned back on her hands. “Hell, the squirrels will explode if he shot at them. They’ll need the both of y’all to bring back a lot of game to survive. Besides, you know Atlanta better than most. You can survive a few herds”

“You both are a bunch of bitches” Merle wasn’t serious when he stated such at least when it’s directed to those two, but he still didn’t like the idea of leaving with these people to Atlanta.

That when they returned with someone who wasn’t Merle, Y/N knew they were about to meet a whole world of hurt.

“Fuck no”

“Y/N—-“

“I could never get Daryl to calm down” They both know that was a lie, Y/N is honestly the only person that could calm him down. But what they both can agree on is they don’t know how he will react to the news.

“Bullshit. You’re gonna have to try somethin’ so he doesn’t fucking kill the man”

“But isn’t that what you wanted?” Y/N watched the color leave Shane’s face. “For this Rick guy to remain dead so you can lay your pipe in a place you shouldn’t be laying it”

His fists clench at either side of him trying his hardest not to strike, but Y/N had enough of keeping that shit to herself. She didn’t care for what happened next…for the most part

When Daryl returned to the camp in search for Merle, ignoring everyone’s questions while he came up empty on finding his brother within the camp. But the annoyance only grew when he couldn’t find his—-Y/N.

“Where’s—-“

“We left Merle. Well, I did.” Rick stated noticing the concern on Daryl’s face which led him to believe there was more to it and he instantly turned to Shane. All the man ever does was shrug but it quickly turned to pulling the youngest Dixon off his “brother”

His presence would normally bring joy in any mood she was in, but given the situation and what happened prior to Daryl finding out about his brother? Y/N was miserable and hiding something.

“You hear what those fucking sons of bitches did?! Leaving Merle chained up to a goddamn roof!” Daryl shouted, quickly stopping when he noticed Y/N flinch to his words. “Sorry—-Fuck, I’m just—-“

“Mad. Rightfully, mad” Y/N rasped, squeezing her eyes shut while she pressed her wet bandana to her cheek. “That Rick guy said he was going to go back to get his dumbass even after putting him up there.”

Daryl didn’t say anything right away as he steps around her to get a look at her front watching her duck her head. “Lori wasn’t too happy about it”

“Figured” Y/N frowns continuing to look at the ground watching his shadow grow bigger practically covering her and indicating he was knelt in front of her. Daryl gently removed what she was using as a rag to see what happened. “It’s superficial. Not like I’d have anything to do stitches anyway…you need to get Merle back”

He didn’t say a word all he did was nod while reaching for her pack to take out those butterfly bandages she has.

“Can I—-“

“Yeah”

The youngest Dixon didn’t push her on what happened, all they talked about after he saw was the plan to get Merle’s ass back to the camp. Even if it meant she couldn’t come with which infuriated her.

But that didn’t matter. The feeling useless part passed quickly when their camp was being washed through with a herd. Y/N always had her axe beside her and didn’t hesitate to start taking out sickos while most of the women protected their children. The only thing she’d want to protect wasn’t there. She didn’t need to worry too much.

Carol let out a scream when one got too close that lead Y/N to quickly swing her axe into its skull watching her quickly get away following Lori. Y/N pulled the axe out and didn’t know of the walker creeping up behind her until a gun shot both killed the walker and almost burst her ear drum. But she quickly turned toward who fired and saw Daryl, both having a relieved look that turned into focused quickly to finish off the walkers.

Once all the dead and undead were mourn or taken care of…the plan was to go to the CDC in hopes for something to help Jim when it was revealed he was bitten. But on the way, they stopped and left him as per his request.

The CDC

Y/N of course sat with Daryl in his truck with Merle’s bike strapped in the bed of it. Neither of them talked for most of the ride given they were worried, angry, and a bit upset…but not at each other. Daryl knows Y/N has her reasons for not telling him how the cut on her cheek happened but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. She on the other hand was infuriated and struggling to keep the tears at bay. Being a nurse and feeling useless was getting to her. That bastard leaving Merle was getting to her. That stupid bitch Shane was getting to her.

“You think Merle is fine?” Y/N questions while she watches the scenery go by the woods slowly disappearing. “What kind of son of a bitch cuts his own hand off? Doubt he even knows how to properly stop the bleeding…burning it isn’t the right way”

“Merle is a roach. He’ll turn up…eventually” Daryl frowns gripping onto the wheel tight as he continued to follow the RV. The truck ran over a walker causing it to jump and for Daryl to instantly force his arm in front of Y/N as she held onto it out of anxious habit with bumps.

“Never going to get used to that…maybe we should’ve just ditched the truck and taken the bike”

Daryl took note of that

When they got to the CDC, right away one assumed that it was empty and barren. Honestly who could blame the scientists for running from this mess? The government already decided more destructive solutions that didn’t work. But when the doors opened, everyone was on edge. Thankful, but on edge. Y/N was given the hunting shotgun Daryl he had back at camp to pair with the axe strapped to her back under her pack. She raised it instantly along with the others when the doctor stepped out to greet the survivors.

Dr. Jenner was his name and he happily let them in giving them the facility for the night. He of course had them get tested for anything which had Y/N feeling nostalgic and given her background, he asked for her help in a few ways before everyone decided to enjoy the luxuries that the place gave.

Booze. Booze was the start along with food.

Y/N only drank with Daryl and Merle, so she didn’t feel comfortable drinking as much as the others were during the dinner the doctor made for them. She kept an eye on Daryl given he was drinking til he couldn’t see straight anymore, he needed it after the Merle nonsense.

But every time he looked over at her, he smiled. In a way it was to make sure she was still there but there was so much more.

When the group started to turn in for the night, everyone stayed with who they were close with. But given how much Glenn drank, Rick and Shane suggested he’d stick with Y/N and Daryl. Mainly Y/N for she has the training in case he aspirated. Which nothing a good “having him sleep on his side” wouldn’t fix.

Daryl stumbles into the room squinting at the sight of Y/N helping Glenn lay down on his side before moving to the couch which would be her bed for the night. She made Glenn’s bed out of the back cushions of the other couch knowing Daryl was going to rip them off anyway. He came to the apartment drunk once and she’d let him crash, he did exactly that before passing out.

“Did you shower? In your state?”

“Nah. Got lost” Daryl scanned around the room quickly switching the light off.

Before Daryl even thought about going to the other couch and sleeping off the effects alcohol has on the body, he brought himself to sit on the floor leaning up against Y/N’s couch. He flinched slightly when she brought her hand to his forehead before easing into the smallest touch.

“Just the alcohol. No fever”

“Just checking” She said in a hushed tone before laying back on the couch keeping her eye on him watching his brows furrow contemplating on saying something or not. “You should get some sleep, bubs”

He felt the heat rise instantly in his face as he decided the couch was no longer an option and laid down right where he was. Y/N watched him get comfortable on the floor before grabbing a couch cushion and giving it to him to use as a pillow.

The night progressed and Daryl laid awake for the most part, thinking staying conscious would subside the feeling of liquor and the strange but familiar one lingering in his chest.

Just when most thought the next morning would be peaceful after some breakfast and much needed pain killers…it was revealed what the clock was on the wall. It was a countdown for total power loss and the last of it to destroy the CDC in a fiery explosion.

Leave or Die

Who would’ve thought that would be a hard decision to make while most panicked around her and once Jenner finally opened the doors for them. She froze in place and felt the tightness in her chest grow.

When Daryl watched the door open he immediately turned to his side half expecting her to be with him. But soon realized she stood by the panels with the doctor and those debating to stay or know for fact. He stood there waiting. Waiting for any sign.

Even if it was Y/N simply turning around to look at him with tears in her eyes. Daryl then acted without a thought by sprinting toward her and instantly picking her up before booking it for the main lobby of the CDC. Where the commotion involving a grenade was being conducted.

“Duck!” The sheriff yelled as everyone did exactly what he said, Daryl shielding Y/N when he crouched feeling her shift out of his arms but her arms remained around his neck holding him close.

They parted when the grenade explosion dissipated, but Daryl didn’t hesitate for a second to usher her out of the building before getting himself out.

The explosion of the CDC rattled the earth and those especially barely escaping it.

“Everybody alright?” Rick asks everyone getting a few yeses and more of annoyed groans after being shaken. “We have to get out of here. Before the herd comes”

“Help me get the bike off” Daryl gestured for Glenn to help as he went to do so. Y/N instantly bringing herself to the bed of the truck grabbing their gear before they took the bike off.

“Rick, siphon the gas from the truck and fill up your cars. Should hold us up for a while or at least until we find more cars”

As they were quick to scramble and move some of the gear from the truck to the RV, Y/N was about to move into one of the cars when Daryl gripped her shoulder gently.

“Ride with me, yeah?”

“I uhm. It’s been a while, Daryl…”

“Alright…Uhm. Don’t sit with Shane, least do that for me” The look he gave her when he said that, only told her that he knew. He knew who gave her that wound on her cheek.

Y/N instantly nods and goes to join Andrea, Glenn, and Dale in the RV while Daryl got situated on his bike leading the way back to the freeway. Hopefully they can find shelter elsewhere.

The Farm

“You and Daryl seem…close. Is there like more to that?” Glenn thought maybe since there wasn’t many in the RV, and especially Daryl, that he could ask things like that.

Y/N being more open to answer after spending more time with these people. “We’re close, but if you’re insinuating what I think you are then no…”

“Is that what you want?” Andrea cuts in, looking directly at Y/N from her spot in the passengers seat. “You want something more don’t you?”

“I-…Well, why would I if the other party doesn’t seem interested” Y/N stated, only for Dale to scoff with a laugh after. “What?”

“You would have to be blind as a bat to not notice how much that man cares for you. If you really wanna know? Try and talk to Shane. About anything.” Dale gave her a look through the rear view mirror before stopping in the freeway when his RV started to make noise. “Damn thing breaking on me at the wrong time”

When the RV stopped, everyone stopped.

Daryl brought his bike to the banks of the freeway watching the RV from his spot seeing Dale get out first along with Glenn. He was about to go in to check on—-

“Hey, this’ll be the perfect time to fuel up on some gas. Even check some of the cars for anything that will be useful.” Rick interrupted his thoughts, Daryl nodded to his words watching him go ahead of him before taking a quick glance at the RV finding Y/N stepping out with a look he couldn’t fully read.

“Hey, Y/N can you take a look at these meds I found?” Lori caught her attention instantly and the second she approached him, Daryl went ahead to investigate some of cars himself.

Then things turned for the worse and a herd started to come through the cars. Most hid underneath the closest car they were near and Dale got stuck on top of the RV…but the worst to happen was the cries of Sophia had attracted some of the walkers. Leading her to run away and the sheriff quickly went after her.

‘Sophia’ Carol whisper shouted as they couldn’t entirely leave when the herd was passing, they only started to get out of hiding and took out the stragglers.

Y/N quickly pulled herself out from under the car watching Carol quickly get out with Lori trying to stop her. She wanted so badly to chase after her daughter and the walkers but Rick’s got it. He’s going to save her…

“You didn’t find her?” Carol couldn’t hold back the sobs anymore, Lori laid a comforting hand on her back.

“They’ll find her or at least try their hardest” Y/N tells Carol with concern littered in her voice even if she only wanted the first part. “There’s still plenty of people in the world even after it ended. She could’ve ran into somebody that will help her get back to you…” she gave a sad smile before turning to Daryl watching him straighten up.

“We’ll find her. We’ll keep lookin’”

This is a mother’s worst nightmare Y/N thought as she organized the trunk of their findings before being pulled away to help T-Dog in terms of his injury.

Rick and Shane left a while ago with Carl to go search for Sophia which left the others splitting into searching themselves and staying at the RV. Y/N being with the RV group given she wanted to keep an eye on T-Dog’s injury but some part of her was screaming internally over this whole situation.

Sophia hid because Rick instructed her to do so but she ran. You would run if your life was about to be in the hand of walkers…

Now Rick, Shane, and Carl disappeared. What could’ve possible gone wrong?

“Are you okay?” Y/N frowns watching Andrea come into the trailer with a bit of annoyed but equally anxious look on her face.

“Yeah, but someone took Lori. Knew Carl and her name so we are gonna go to the place they are at” Andrea sat across from her at the little table noticing Y/N pinching her arm which some spots started to bruise.

As Andrea reached across the table to take her hand to get her to stop, ultimately holding it so she wouldn’t continue. Daryl flew the door open instantly locking eyes with Y/N before stepping away to get on his bike while Glenn and Dale flooded in.

The second the RV arrived on the farm, Rick ran out of the house toward it. He gently pushed Glenn and Andrea out of the way to get Y/N taking her hand dragging her toward the house.

“Where’s the fi—-“

“Carl’s been shot. The man of the house is a vet and is doing his best. Could use another set of—-“

“I’ve got it” Y/N didn’t need to hear more to understand the just of it. She was going to be told everything by Hershel, the head of the house, anyway.

Once Shane came with the right medical supplies, Hershel was relieved to have someone with full medical training to help him fix Carl’s injuries. But that didn’t stop him from discussing certain matters.

“If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Is it about this?” Y/N gave him a confused look keeping hold of the retractor while Patricia continuously squeezed the ambu bag that Shane managed to snag for Carl.

“No…these people you’re with…you trust their judgement?”

“Yeah, a little bit. I’m still trying to get used to the fact that one of them left my—-my best friend’s brother on a roof” Y/N picked up a piece of gauze to dab at the blood that spilled. “He wa—is a racist sexist son of a bitch so. Who could blame him”

Patricia fought back a laugh as Hershel rolled his eyes but was going to take her word for the first part. He can give some trust in these people.

“Listen, Hershel. I may have not been with these people for long…but they are good people. They mean well at the end of the day even with their flaws.” Y/N finished her thought before helping him finish with the closing.

After the operation, Y/N stepped out into the kitchen where Patricia instructed her to wash her hands in the sink. As she was doing so, Lori instantly went to her and without any words she gave her a smile and let Hershel explain how everything went smoothly.

Y/N stepped out realizing how late it was and how everyone set up their tents already. Part of her wished she still had her apartment and could simply crash without having to set anything up. But when she was about to head toward the RV to get her things, she noticed her tent set up and close to his.

Sweet… Y/N felt the twitch of a smile before entering her tent and laying on the floor for a moment.

Laying on the ground in a tent after a successful surgery was very different compared to laying on the kitchen floor with a half empty bag of chips and a bottle of Merlot. Felt nicer and worse in some way.

“Y/N?” Daryl whispers, just in case she was still asleep but when she opened the tent flap he relaxed a bit from the awkward feeling. “The kid alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll probably need another transfusion but we won’t know until he improves” Y/N sat in the way of the flap giving Daryl an unreadable look and all he wanted to know mostly was if she was alright after what she had to do. But decided to focus on different matters. “Did you need something, Dar?”

“Uh. No I just…I’m gonna look for Sophia in the mornin’. Wanna let yea know”

“Thank you…be safe and back before nightfall”

“I promise, sunshine” He gave a small nod shortly leaving after, letting Y/N get some sleep even when once the tent flap closed she felt the heat consume her face when he called her that.

But that small happiness faded when her anxiety started to eat at her the more the sunlight faded in the next day.

“You need to stop pacing. You’ve done laundry, you checked Carl’s incision site, you gave Maggie and Glenn a list of drugs to look for on their run, amongst other small tasks. Creating a ditch in the dirt just from pacing back and forth is only going to wear your shoes out and not make Daryl come back any fast” Andrea told Y/N while she got up on top of the RV to take watch.

“She’s got a point. You’re wearing yourself out over possibly nothing” Dale said while handing his rifle up to Andrea expecting her not having to use it. “He’s looking for signs of Sophia or her overall and will be back. He told you that much”

“Least you know what his intentions are. Most partners don’t realize their significant other is cheating on them because they beat around the bush when asked “where have you been”” Rick stepped out of the RV saying such which in response was a confused expression from Y/N. “He is your boyfriend is he not?”

“No! We aren’t together at all…”

“Hm. Odd”

“How so?”

“I had to pull off a very angry drunk Daryl off of Shane the night we spent at the CDC. Threatened to kill him if he ever laid a hand on yea again” Rick shrugged. “That’s when I thought y’all were somethin’ more.”

Andrea laughed at the situation, earning an annoyed groan from Y/N as she turned to Dale about to question if he knew about that incident when her friend’s tone shifted.

“WALKER” Andrea shouted rising from the lawn chair. “Walker!”

“Just the one?” Rick question without a confirmation on the number but he couldn’t focus on that anymore when Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog started to make their way over to said walker. “Hold up. Hershel wants to handle the walkers”

“We’ve got it” Shane assured continuing on his way while Andrea had the brilliant idea that she can take out the walker with the rifle she has and the sun in her eyes.

Dale kept trying to tell her not to take the shot. Maybe because they were heading their way toward the “walker” and she couldn’t accidentally hit the living.

But she did that. To the walker that was actually an injured Daryl.

When he dropped, the ounce of joy Andrea felt immediately faded when all three by the RV heard the shouts of no!

Y/N quickly made her way over to the shouting and noticed the limp hunter in between Rick and Shane that she started to feel that itchy feeling that came with anger. She gripped the tank top she was in, quickly turning around and heading straight for her tent to get her scrub top before making it to the house the second Hershel was informed.

Regardless of the minor protests of having her patch Daryl up, even from the man himself, Y/N was persistent and pissed.

When the adrenaline wore off, Daryl passed out but thankfully his wounds were taken care of and he was left alone. Not entirely though. Y/N sat on the window bench watching the rise and fall of his chest every now and then. But for the most part she kept her focus on her hands and how much blood stained her skin. Especially her nails.

Just the thought and fact of it being his blood resulted in her curling up on herself and sobbing ever so softly.

The time Carol came in and told him how grateful she was that he still went out of his way to go search for Sophia, Daryl noticed Y/N’s sleeping form in the window but especially the redness slightly above her cheeks.

“She’s been here the whole time. She does a good stitch job from what Hershel says” Carol whispers with a small laugh at the end of her sentence. “Get some rest, Dixon”

Y/N woke to the sound of struggling and a few curses. Daryl thought he could go unnoticed given their group was asleep in their tents and so was the family that owned the house but the light sleeper that was his—Y/N woke up.

“Stop starin’ and give me a hand”

“You deserve to rest in a bed, Daryl…” Y/N frowns getting up from her spot and approaching him but before he could protest, she helped him stand to his feet. “Least let me help you to your tent”

Daryl nodded, letting Y/N wrap one of his arms around her shoulders before getting out of the house. She made him take it slow and practically at her pace given it was what she wanted him to go at.

The silence was killing him that when they finally reached his tent and Y/N was about to part from him, he gently grabbed her wrist pulling her back.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You haven’t talked. Not a long walk but still. You just…haven’t”

Y/N stared at him. Stared into those deep blue eyes that bore into her soul for an answer which only let the damn break loose.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” The wobble in her voice shook him in his core. “Seeing you…in the state that you were in…yeah, you made it…but a little over and you wouldn’t be here and I would’ve lost you” she felt a few tears slip, pulling herself away enough so that she could hold his hand. “You mean…so much to me, Daryl Dixon.”

The staring from said Dixon only continued and that couldn’t help the thought of crossing a line to flood Y/N’s mind. But before she could even think to pull away and head to her tent, Daryl pulled her in and pressed his lips firmly against hers…

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #I said 3 parts but there might be one or two more #longest request but yeah

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fairysluna · 2 years ago

Text

the reward.

You come back home after two weeks, and with the victory in your shoulders. Cregan, who was still recovering from his wounds, is esger to thank you for what you've done.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

TAGS/TW — smut (clit play, praise, cunninglus, humping, public sex), cursing, mentions of murder, blood. If something is missing pls let me know!

AUTHOR’S NOTE — this is based on this ask (thx anon, ily). Just so you know, reader gave birth to Elion four weeks before this happened. I didn't proof read it, so if there's any mistakes I'm sorry.

WORD COUNT — 3.2k.

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

When the big wooden doors were opened, all eyes fell on the two silhouettes that walked inside the main hall in the castle of Winterfell. Cregan stood up from his chair almost immediately, his eyes widening with surprise at the sight, and feeling the relief calming down his senses after he finally proved you were not dead.

Two weeks have passed since the last time he heard about you; two weeks in which he was losing his mind for not being able to get up from the bed and go to search for you. Your letters had ceased suddenly and unexpectedly, creating worry not only on your husband but also in the castle. And yet there you were; your hair was covered in ashes and dirt, your face having traces of dried blood and sweat. You were wearing armor which covered your chest, leather pants shaping your legs, the scabbard on your hips was dripping with blood coming from the blade of your sword. By your side, the stern and serious frame of your beloved brother Aemond was standing in the same conditions as you.

But everyone’s eyes were fixed on the giant’s head hanging from your hand. You walked inside the room with pride, your chin up as everyone bowed for you. Your husband was taken aback, for there was too much information in front of him at that moment, it was such a bizarre scene.

Cregan took a sharp breath as he stared at you once you stood in front of him, only a big, long table separating your bodies. The giant’s head was dropped by your hand on top of it, and the man looked down at you with a weird glance on his face. He analyzed your whole shape, from head to toe; from your messy battle braids to your ash-covered shoes. Cregan caught himself feeling some kind of unexplainable sensation of lust in his veins; and you were the only one who was capable of recognizing it.

“My dear husband,” you started, and all the whispers shut down almost immediately. “I’ve brought you a gift. I’m not certain whether this was the one who harmed you, but take it as a symbol… no one hurts those who I love.”

He looked to the head, then at your brother, and lastly at you. He took a deep breath, as if he was about to utter some words, but Lord Karstark opened his mouth.

“Princess,” he said, shock reflected in his voice, “what- how were you able to-?”

“My husband gifted me a fine Valyrian blade a few years ago,” you explained, looking right in the eye of the tall man to whom you call your lover. “Giants are above the size of a regular man, which is what makes them easy to behead from a dragon's back. I couldn't kill them all, but I killed enough to make them yield.”

“They yielded?” Cregan finally spoke, to which you nod.

“Yes, my lord, they did,” the mere pronunciation of those two words almost sent Cregan to outer space. Your voice sounded so deep and seductive without even trying. The man was almost drooling because of you. “They returned beyond the wall as they promised to never cross it again. Those who dared to defy our terms died by the flames of Aegarax, which worked as a warning to let them know what would happen if they disobeyed.”

“We had a few losses, my lord” Aemond interrupted in the conversation, and still Cregan was unable to take his eyes off of you. “They were brave men, killed in battle by those savages. Allow me to present them with honor with a feast in celebration for our victory. It is also well deserved for those who survive.”

“Let it be done, brother,” Cregan said. "We might as well celebrate your bravery, and your efforts for bringing my wife safely back to my arms."

“Ser Aron, please put the giant's head on display for the people to see. It is a sign of peace now,” you ordered.

“Of course, princess,” he bowed swiftly before getting close enough to the head to pick it up and walking with it out of the Hall.

“My lord, if I may, I would like to go and spend some time with my nephews and niece before tonight’s celebration,” Aemond asked, using that polite and courteous tone that was so typical of him.

Cregan nodded, “of course, brother,” he said.

Aemond walked to your way and left a soft kiss on your forehead before squeezing your shoulder and leaving the hall towards the nursery room where you children were. The silence ruled over the room as everyone was expecting for either you or Cregan to speak further into the matter, but all they received was the comfortable silence you and your husband shared as your hazes would refuse to look away. The lack of each other’s presence these last weeks had clearly made a big impact in your lives, for there was an invisible magnet that was pulling you both closer and closer to each other. Your bodies craved each other's touch in a way that would even make you look desperate.

“We won the war, my lord husband,” you said, a slight smirk crossing your lips as you noticed his jaw clenched. “Mayhaps we should celebrate, don’t you think?”

Your eyes gazed upon his face, begging and pleading for something you knew only him could provide you. The nights in the camp were cold and lonely, making you long for your husband’s warmth. Your breathing trembled at the mere thought of his big hands roaming around your body in order to touch those places that he knew so well.

“Everyone,” Cregan raised his voice in order to be heard by all the people present in the room. His low tone echoed around the room. “Leave, now.”

The lords, knights and soldiers were soon walking towards the exit doors as Cregan walked around the table and reached your side. Your smaller frame looked so fragile in front of him even when your body was covered with that hard material which had some scratches in it. Cregan looked up and down to your state, and he inevitably bit his lip as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you closer to him. A small gasp left you, starting to feel his breathing against your skin. Soon you find yourself being a prisoner of his arms, for they surrounded your body and held you tight against his broad chest.

“The children have been missing you terribly,” he whispered, so close to your lips that you were able to feel his breath against them.

You gave a quick peak to your surroundings just when the door was closed and the last man left the room. Your gaze fell upon your husband’s face once again and a little smile appeared on your face. Your hands went to his broad chest as his started to go down your body until reaching your arse.

You were dirty, sweaty, a complete mess, and yet Cregan thought that you had never looked more desirable.

“Only them?” You asked, teasingly playing with the laces of his coat until it fell down surrounding his shoes.

“No,” he shook his hand, pulling you closer and making you feel his hardness through the fabric of his pants. You sighed, eyes already getting blurry with the aching lust between your legs. “I was scared… frightened.” His lips brushing against your jaw. “I thought I had lost you, I forced myself to heal faster only to go and look for you, my love.”

“No need, I’m already here…” You replied. Your eyes would not dare to leave his as your hand reached his growing erection. “I’m here, and I will never leave you again-”

You were barely able to finish the sentence before his delicious lips trapped yours in a lustful kiss that took your breath away. The missed touch had your heart jumping in your chest with excitement, love and lust. His hands grabbed your checks in order to keep your face close enough to devour your mouth with hunger and desire. He was craving for you as much as you were for him.

"Seeing you like this," he murmurs between kisses, his fingers going to the laces that were holding your pants. "I'm so fucking lucky to call you mine. My wife, my love, my princess."

"I did it all for you," you confessed in a whine, pulling his hair strong enough to make him moan. You pulled away as your fist was holding his locks with a bit of roughness that he loved to see in you. "I would make this entire world burn just for you."

His eyes sparkled with devotion as he softened his grip around your face. His gray eyes staring at yours with a glow you were already used to seeing on him whenever he laid eyes on you. The shadow of a tender smile appeared on his face before he leaned to kiss you again. It was softer, more delicate, leaving part of the lust of your bodies behind just to have a more intimate moment. His tongue entered your mouth elegantly, twirling against yours while you sighed and closed your eyes. The warmth within your chest gave you a feeling of comfort that you had not felt since you left Winterfell; gods, you missed him so much.

When he pulled away, he stared down at you. His thumb caressing your cheeks, wiping the dried blood out of your beautiful face. He could not help but smile, all of this was for him. You did it all for him. His heart would only beat faster on the realization of you unleashing the dragon inside you just for his protection.

There was something about that wild and dangerous side of you that made Cregan drool like a hungry puppy.

"I love you," he said, and you smiled.

"I love you," you replied.

But then the lust in his eyes returned, and you knew the soft moment had vanished. His hands went to your hips as he turned you around and bent you over the table. You chuckled softly at his action, feeling how he would rub himself against you as if he was trying to find some relief. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against his chest.

"My little dragon," he murmured against your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. A soft moan was heard from you. "Fuck- I missed those pretty sounds so much."

You felt how he suddenly stepped back, and it was impossible for you to retain the loud gasp that escaped from your lips once Cregan pulled your pants down, dragging your small clothes with it. The coldness of the air caused shivers in your spine, especially after you noticed him kneeling behind you and his big hands spreading your arse cheeks. His thumbs exploring and touching your folds as he could only growl at the sight, your cunt was already dripping, glistening with your arousal.

Cregan leaned, close enough to brush his nose against your labia, teasing as he smelled your sweet scent and his mouth waters. That sweet, so delicious smell had been missed by him, and he could not wait to let himself drink from you until his lips felt sore. At that point, your legs were shaking with the anticipation of his mouth devouring as if you were his last meal.

"You've been such a good little wife, my princess," he whispered, his hot breath reaching your moist folds and making you whine. "Taking revenge for your husband, and bringing victory to our home."

His thumb started to tease your needy clit, proving small touches that were far from being enough to cause the much needed sensation of relief. You bit your lip, sighing with frustration. Your hips moving backwards as you desperately tried to reach a more intense touch, but Cregan would make you wait.

"So, so good…" he muttered, dropping light kisses in the flesh of your ass, "I'm gonna give my wife the reward she deserves, how about that?"

"Oh, fuck, please, my love," you breathed heavily, closing your eyes as the despair only grew within you. "I need you so much."

"Shh… I should be the one begging," Cregan replied.

You felt the fingertips of his thumbs spreading your labia before his tongue lapped at your sensitive folds. A moan, much louder than the ones before, was heard, and your eyes immediately went close at the delicious feeling of his tongue licking all your slick. He was eating you like a hungry man, after being deprived of you for so long he was despairingly trying to make it worth the wait. He had missed your taste, your smell, the way you would clench around his tongue, and how prettily your moans would sound.

The sound of his tongue against your wetness as he drank from you was beyond obscene. A mixture of his spit and your slick would slip down your thighs, making it messier and filthier that it already is. Your nails were digging on the wood of the ancient table beneath you, and your whimpers were getting louder.

His nose was teasing your entrance, causing the pleasure to become almost unbearable. With the birth of your third child and the weeks you spent apart, you had not been exposed to this kind of pleasure for a really long time, and you almost forgot how good it felt when your dutiful husband took care of you.

Once his tongue left your clit and started to go to your clenching hole, his fingers went to your swollen pearl, indulging the pleasure and making you see stars. You were a mumbling mess, not caring about keeping it quiet because you knew how much your husband loved to hear you, and you loved to make him know how good he was making you feel.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm getting so close, love," you rapidly said, breathy words leaving your throat as you moaned. "Your tongue feels so fucking good- oh, fuck! just like that…"

Your words seemed to only fuel his desire, for his eagerness only increased. He shook his head from side to side, his tongue never leaving your folds. You were able to feel the tightness in your lower belly as your legs started to shake. His whole face buried in you in order to give you the pleasure that you needed and deserved.

With a squeal, you felt your juices oozing out of you and falling into Cregan's tongue. You were able to hear him moan, his heavy breathing against your cunt as he was eagerly trying to get all your release inside his mouth.

Your body fell on top of the table, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to regularize your unsteady breathing. Cregan stood up, caressing the exposed flesh of your thighs as he leaned over your frame to kiss your cheek.

"We have the best cooks in the North, and yet their dishes will never be as delicious as your sweet cunt, my love," you both shared a breathy laugh after his words, your cheeks inevitably getting reddish and warm. "Come here."

His arms lift you up without issue, so effortlessly as always. He shifted your position until you were facing him, sitting on the table and with your legs surrounding his hips. His nose brushed against yours, and your hands went to his pants. He immediately stopped you.

"We can't," he said, "the Maester said we need to wait at least three fortnights."

"I can please you in other ways too, you know that," you reminded him.

"No, I just wanted to thank you-"

"And I want to thank you too," you interrupted him, removing his hand and keeping untying the laces of his pants until you removed them, freeing his shaft from the tightness of the fabric. "For all that you've done for us…"

"My love-"

"Be quiet," you silenced him. Your legs pushed him closer to you until his cock was pressed against your pearl. You both moaned at the feeling. "You know what to do now… please, don't make me beg."

"You little, needy thing…" he muttered before starting to move his hips. His mouth dropped open at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his length, it felt so warm and good. "Fuck, my love, I can't wait to be inside you once again." He confessed.

You smirked, "yeah?"

"Oh, Gods, yes…" his face was buried on the crook of your neck as your hand went to his cock to press it against your core. "As soon as you heal I'll fuck another babe inside you. Would you like that?"

"Y-yes," you nodded, your eyes looking directly at him as he sped his movements. "I can't- fuck… I

I can't wait to feel you inside me again. Filling me up so- oh, fuck, so good."

Cregan moaned at your words, getting harsher with his movements. His sack hitting against your slick, as he kept rubbing himself against you, growing desperate to spill himself on you. Your lips soon met on a needy kiss that silenced all the obscene sounds that were coming out of your mouths. It was messy, but none of you care, already drunk in the pleasure.

He pulled away at the same time that a whine left his lips. He grabbed his shaft and started to swiftly stroke it as he kept rubbing the tip on your clit. You came again, moaning his name before he coated your folds with thick drops of his pearly seed. His head fell backwards, his eyes rolling with pleasure as he hissed and groaned. You held your weight with your forearms as you looked at the mess he did on you.

Cregan soon held you tight, hiding his face on your neck once again. You chuckled softly, tiredly, caressing his hair and kissing whatever part of him you could reach.

"Don't ever leave me," he begged, "I can't do this without you."

"I won't, I promise," you replied in a whisper, smiling so bright.

He reached for your lips once again, kissing you gently and lovingly. It was brief, but as soon as he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours, enjoying the closeness of your bodies.

"But now I need to go and see my babies," you said, kissing his lips one last time before pulling back.

"Let me help you to clean you up," he quickly moved around, pulling his pants up to start looking for something that could work.

He found a clean cloak and went towards you. You let him help you, seeing how careful and delicate he always was with you. You smiled at him, and once he was ready, he made you stand up and lifted your pants. Next thing he did was throwing the cloak he used with you to the fire in the fireplace.

He grabbed your hand and walked with you towards the exit door, but before you were able to cross it, he stopped you to kiss you once more.

"I love you," he said again.

You bit your lip, hiding the enormous smile on yojr face.

"I love you."

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1

CREGAN TAG LIST — @satansdarlin @aelora-a @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

#cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x targ!reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x targaryen!reader #cregan x targ!wife #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #hotd #house stark #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd smut

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jeonscatalyst · 1 month ago

Note

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DEiN7irRg-h/?igsh=MzRrbzI1NGthc2V1

Tom and Zendaya are so adorable❤. I wonder what it's like to have this kind of connection with someone, wish I could experience just once in my life.

Anyway there's a comment on the post that says "they are always so in sync. This is me and my sister" and someone replies that she and her brother and sister-in-law are the same. And it just made me think about all those anons who love coming onto people's blogs to tell them how they are wrong to think there's something romantic between Jimin and JK because "I do what they do with my brother/My sister and I always behave the same way."

Tomdaya are engaged to be married and there are strangers who compare the way they are with each other to how they are with their blood-related family..

This is what I've been trying to say since 2018; that a certain type of dynamic or bond or whatever you wanna call it can exist in many different types of relationships. Just because you watch Jimin and Jungkook and see some aspects in their relationship that remind you of the relationship you share with your sibling or friend, it still does NOT cancel out the possibility of Jimin and Jungkook being more than friends (and vice versa, of course). Friends, siblings, cousins, parents & their children, and LOVERS can ALL be in sync with one another, share the same unique sense of humour, always be lost in their own little world and finish each other's sentences. It's not only exclusive to one type of relationship.

I always find those anons so stupid and frustrating. And it's not only them, unfortunately. To this day you'll still find "this is like me and my brother, shippers are so weird for forcing a sexual/romantic relationship on these boys" comments under Jikook videos. Like okay you are siblings and you do that, but that doesn't mean it's the same for all other people who do it as well. Life doesn't work like that.

You could be right about them only being just like brothers (we don't know) but people should really stop try and stop judging the world based on their own personal lived experiences and thinking just because one thing is true for them that it's definitely a Universal truth.

Nope.

All of this anon! All of this!!!!

This is something I’ve said countless times. Relationships don’t follow a single, set dynamic. Some couples have a “best friend” energy, while others might even give off “sibling energy” depending on the day..and both are completely valid.

I find it amusing when people try to assign specific qualities to certain types of relationships, as if those traits are exclusive to particular relationships. For example, arguing that two people must be in a romantic relationship because they’re “soft” with each other, or dismissing others as not being romantic simply because they play fight or roughhouse, is far too simplistic.

If you’re viewing relationships in such a narrow, rigid way, it likely points to a lack of experience or maturity in understanding how human connections actually work. Relationships are nuanced, varied, and deeply personal…they rarely fit neatly into predefined boxes.

A single relationship can embody multiple dynamics that come to light at different times. Couples aren’t confined to always being soft and tender with each other, just as siblings aren’t limited to roughhousing or being playfully mischievous. These behaviors can exist in any type of relationship, regardless of its nature. Relationships are fluid and multifaceted, and it’s those variations that make them so rich and authentic. If some people still refuse to understand this, then I don’t know what else to say.

In many ways, I blame romance movies, novels, and the way the media has portrayed certain types of relationships for so long. A lot of people haven’t had the chance to witness or experience the wide range of dynamics that real relationships involve, so they latch onto these idealized versions and genuinely believe that’s how life and love are supposed to work.

This is why people are so quick to dismiss relationships as “less ideal” when they’re confronted with the complexity and nuance of reality. They’ve been conditioned to expect picture-perfect romances filled with softness and fluff, without any room for the challenges, growth, or tough love that real relationships often require.

It’s honestly a bit sad when you think about it. That narrow view not only limits their understanding of life and love but also prevents them from appreciating the depth and beauty of relationships that don’t fit the fantasy mold.

#jikook #relationships discourse

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princessozera · 11 months ago

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so, random thought, there's a good chance the demon bros inadvertently harmed mc in some capacity just because human and demon limits are so vastly different, and the main human any have had contact with is Solomon, whose humanity is somewhat debatable. mc might act like they're invincible, but they are human in the end, and human durability is largely that we can keep going after almost any injury, not that we don't get injured

like Lucifer strings them up as he would his brothers, forgetting (assume he's really tired or stressed or whatever) that doing so puts a lot of pressure on the body and can cause actual damage instead of just being annoying like it is to his brothers. depending on how exactly he ties them up it'd change the effects but it's never gonna be great for them

Mammon running away from shenanigans with them and he tugs on their hand a bit too hard and fast to get them safely around a corner and dislocates their shoulder in the process because force = mass x speed and Mammon is a speedy boy. or he's running from Lucifer and slams into them at top speed, and if they can't protect their head from the wall/floor you know Mams is freaking out because mc is all out of it and there's so much blood and he doesn't care how Lucifer punishes him as long as he makes sure mc is alright

otaku Levi with his nonexistent sleep schedule doesn't realise just how badly sleep deprivation affects humans. paranoia, weakened immune system, depersonalisation, all the way to sleep deprivation psychosis. you go 96 hours or 4 days without sleep and lemme tell you, you ain't properly attached to reality anymore. been there, done that, would not recommend. there were bugs crawling all over my arms and legs and shadow people whispering. fucking sucked, and I was constantly shaking so I kept dropping stuff

if anyone knows about human durability, at least in theory, it's Satan, but the avatar of wrath can be emotionally charged. he really didn't mean to hurt them, but he was trying so hard not to lose it that day and as he led mc out of his room so they wouldn't be caught in the inevitable explosion, his deadly sharp claws nicked their skin. the wounds were mostly superficial— hurt like a bitch but no major arteries were damaged— but there was quite a lot of blood and Satan felt sick in a way he never had before. humans scar easily, a useful trait to close open wounds quickly, but Satan hates that he was the cause of those raised lines

Asmo is probably best at remembering since he hangs out with Solomon and has had human lovers before, but he is mostly around Solomon who cannot die. so he doesn't always remember what is and isn't toxic for humans, especially since a lot of poisons are used in medicines at lower doses and a lot of things we need to live are poisonous if we consume enough. it'd only take one slip up to put mc in hospital, and of course they don't blame him but he begs Satan to teach him as much as he can so it never happens again

you know Beel would try his best to remember, and he'd feel horribly guilty if he ever hurt mc, but he's big and strong even by demon standards and can eat anything that isn't Solomon's cooking. there's a few ways this one could go— sharing food with them that's toxic to humans, hugging them a bit too hard, mc giving him their food and going hungry, they work out together and they get hurt... take your pick

and Belphie knows all too well how fragile mc is, so he's very careful with his demonic strength around them. he already killed them once with barely any effort. but one day he wakes up from napping with mc to find he held them too hard and they're bruising. maybe his arm curled around their neck as it bloomed black and blue once again. Belphie doesn't nap with them for a while after that

! ANON! 💕💕💕💕

I don't know how you sniped me from across the highway but whump/injuries are exactly my cup of obsession and I've thought about this forever- i just never really had enough to make a full post. I LOVE your ideas and I hope you dont mind me bouncing some of my own off them;

----

Lucifer and his funny little habit of hanging his brothers 💕 Say he takes pity on MC, makes sure they're right side up, nothing around the neck and only tied beneath the arms and around the legs. Plans to take them down in 5 minutes, really it was meant to be the pet equivalent of air jail. But a call here, difficulties there and 5 minutes turn to 10 and then it slips to 15. It's so little time, absolutely nothing compared to the nights he's left Mammon up over the banister.

So why are there screams in the hall? Why are Asmo, Mammon and Levi on the phone with Solomon, Barbatos, and Simeon respectively? He doesn't understand why they don't immediatley drop MC down, only catching the tail end of Solomon explaing something called "suspension trauma" to Asmo. When they do get MC down, even from a distance he can see the color is almost completely gone from their face, while their legs are a few shades darker. He watches Satan mouth out the count for MC's pulse, quick and staggering. When MC wakes, they can't seem to take a proper breath- gasping, clutching their chest, tearing up and confused. There isn't much more any of them can do, other than stand back and hand MC over to Barbatos and Solomon.

----

In a movie, it would be considered slapstick comedy, the way that Mammon skid around a corner full speed, carpet pulling under his feet , hip checking the wall as he ran away from Lucifer. In a movie it would be hilarious they way him and MC crashed, sending them literally flying back, head bouncing off the wall, swirls in their eyes and stars dancing around their head. In a movie they would only need to shake it off and get up to yell at him, with Lucifer standing back and watching in smug satisfaction.

But there wasn't anything funny about this, MC slumped in his arms, blood turning his tshirt into a darker shade of black, making it tacky and stick onto his skin. They're awake, sort of? But their pupils aren't the same size, and the speech is slurred. There's a truce as Lucifer heals MC, and they get them to a proper doctor.

Mammon gets better at ducking and weaving around MC, it even helps him evade Lucifer better. But MC doesn't escape the dislocated shoulders, and unwanted popping of their knuckles when Mammon holds their hand too hard. Neither had known that after the first dislocation, its a lot easier to dislocate your should again. It's never intentional, but it always hurts- MC tries to breathe through it if there is an urgency, but Mammon catches the way they pointedly look away, trying to blink the tears away, and knows that he's- once again- failed to keep MC out of harm.

---------

Levi being MC's energy drink dealer. He doesnt know why they dont but their own, but he has plenty so he ultimately doesnt mind sharing. They're not attached at the hip so he doesnt see how little sleep MC is getting, a single can carrying them through 2 whole days. They know its time to 1-up again when their heart stops sounding like helicopter blades.

He finds them on the floor of their room, rubbing their arms raw with the hard bristle brush Asmo uses to buff his horns, babbling incoherently to themselves.

-----

With Satan the physical is NEVER intentional, as much as he used to rage in the early days of the fall, the thought of hurting MC didn't sit well with him. But tiny nicks are so easy to cause when even his regular nails are sharper than a humans'. If MC can keep their reactions subtle, it wont be until Satan is laying in their lap that he notices the "freckles" on their arms don't quite lay flat.

When you're used to fast reflexes, you don't think twice about slamming a door in someone's face. Someone (MC) who was too close and now has a broken, bloody nose. Now whenever the snore in their sleep, or their nose whistles when they laugh too hard, Satan remembers opening the door to MC doubled over, blood leaking from between their fingers as they tried to put pressure on the bridge of their nose.

-------

Dosage and concentration.

Asmo is vaugely familiar with these terms- SPF strength, alcohol proofing, acidity in his skin care. He's had so many spa nights with Solomon that he doesn't think twice about sharing his skin care routine with MC as well. Powders, gels, creams, exfoliants. Some a bit too harsh, MC's skin turns warm and flush, so he thinks their skin is sensitive. He'd ask for help caring for his wings and horns. MC goes in with their bare hands to get a good scrub, attributing the burn to the rough edges and upturned edges of Asmo's horns. It feels like icyhot, so it must be working. When they're done, Asmo tries to take the rest of the cream off their hands to apply to his hands, but they both scream as a visible layer of skin from MC starts peeling off as well. The acid having fulling numbed and killed off most of the senses in MC's hand, had started to deteriorate the skin, and its by some small blessing that MC hadnt already applied it to their face. It takes a panicked called to Solomon to get the feeling back into MC's hands, but it still takes weeks for the skin to grow back on to their hands. The pain of bandages on raw muscle is excruciating, and Asmo sticks to them like glue, fully taking the blame for their condition.

-----

Beel and Belphie have another trauma to share as twins- nearly killing MC in their sleep! Beel doesnt understand how heavy an unconcious body can be, and being as large as he is, this becomes a problem the first time him and MC share a bed. He falls asleep with an arm draped over them, but exhaustion from practice has him rolling on to them. Even if not entirely covering them, the weight on their chest makes it hard to breathe and MC soon drops nicities and is trying their damnest to get him off or at least wake him up. Its a panicked use of the pacts to call another brother that saves them, and Beel cant sleep for the rest of the night.

Belphie doesn't have as many night terrors these days, but they can still get bad. Usually sleeping with MC can keep these dreams at bay, but on nights that they dont, he wakes up to find MC tossed onto the floor or squeezed between him and the wall. On the worsts of these nights, he woke up to MC screaming, having wrapped a hand and tail so tightly around their arm that it shattered in 2 places.

(Can I also offer a beel and belphie alternative: MC wanting to match Beel's stamina/ gym workout time and getting muscle deterioration. Belphie wanting a sleeping partner so he messes up their sleeping cycles, 10+ hrs asleep, accidentally depriving them of light, water, and food, causing a depressive episode)

#ozera talks back #anon i am proposing #obey me shall we date #long post

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alejandro-ask · 1 month ago

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hiya major, a lil rookie here

wanted to ask if you know the name of this one lieutenant I've been trying to name? during training they looked very scary and sometimes deranged, but they use little emojis on their blogs too I think. I forgot their name lol. And I think they have this pet wombat too, because I see it often with with that certain lieutenant too

they're in the 141, and maybe you're not the right person to ask, but I have nobody else to turn to so yeah

thanks, mj , you da best :)

— rookie boy anon (hehe)

Hola, little rookie! I always love when you show up around here.

Sorry, I don’t remember exactly who is this exact lieutenant are... hay tantos del 141 que aparecen aquí that it’s hard to keep track. Pero déjame decirte sobre los que gusto

First, there’s Lieutenant Judas @judas-askblog . He’s a chill guy, súper tranquilo, and if I’m not wrong, he’s got some pets too. Bien buena persona.

Then there’s Spirit, or Donna @justradiospirit. She’s a Navy lieutenant, not from the 141, pero she’s really cool. No sé mucho de ella, but definitely someone you’d want to have around.

Sgt. Reaper @sgt-reaper is next. He’s more serious, ¿sabes? A bit less frequent por aquí because he’s always super busy. High demand, workaholic, pero es muy confiable and gets the job done.

Now, Treble Trouble @callsign-trebletrouble. She’s not officially from the 141, pero tiene un trabajo increíble. She’s contracted to help with surveillance and intelligence for high-risk ops. A real badass, y siempre está aquí. She’s súper nice, really funny, and honestly, she makes me laugh so hard I cry. Love her.

Then we have Jeanz, or Whisper @jeanzoriley-cod. ¡Dios mío, esta mujer es increíble! She’s amazing at what she does and honestly the best. She’s got some romantic stuff going on if you like gossip (with Rudy jajajajaj) . But let me tell you, she’s terrifying when she needs to be—so good at sneaking up on people that you’d be dead before you even knew she was there. She also LOVES to drink, so if you want to get on her good side, bring the good stuff. (prupru:(pru pru: she also writes fanfictions that make me gliggle and sway my feet, curl my hair when i read, is really so good is just ksjsjghudahguewgb) "

Private 141, or Bunny, or Ari @ask-private-141. She’s a private who also does medic work. Súper cute, really active, and so fun to interact with. Neta, I adore her.

And then there’s Sunshine Medic @ask-sunshine-medic. What can I say? She’s amazing. Really fun, super cool, and just a ray of sunshine. We always have so much fun together. She’s from the 141 too, and honestly, she’s one of my favorite people here, heard she's scaring on the field and really experiente, but never got to see it.

Finally, my brother in everything but blood, my right hand, @las-almas-border-patrol. ¡Este sí es el mero mero! This is the guy I’d die for, kill for, stalk for, kidnap for, and maybe even do drugs for. Be nice to him, ¿okay? He’s always here, loves to hang out, and seriously, give him all the love you can. ( pru pru: plus, Teebs IS SUCH A NICE PERSON, MAN GIVE THEM LOVE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE)

So, rookie, any chance the person estás procurando és one of these legends? Let me know, porque todos ellos son pura calidad. (Hey! prupru here, i wanted to give this ask a little bit more attention, because im really happy and proud that i can Rp and share annon, and in character with these amazing people, those are only the ones im more close with, but there are SO MUCH MORE is amazing i would like to especially thank @ghost-askblog for re-starting this trend, i followed them ever since day 3 and in only 2 weeks this rpg comunity IS SO HUGE and so funny, i love you all i did not mention it because is kinda obvious but all the non oc characters (besides Teebs, because i HAD to mention them, 80% of my rp is with them, lol thank you all very much and if you would like to share an rp i would love to know who is this person you talked about and about you too! sorry for the LOOOOOOOONG text, took me my two lunch breaks (1 from school and the other in my 8 hour shift TwT)

#alejandro vargas cod #ask blog #call of duty #alejandro vargas #alejandro ask #asks open #cod rp #anon ask #send asks #ask game #i love those blogs so much #sorry if is long #too long #did not read it #sorry TwT if is weird #<3

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year ago

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Helloo !! ^^ Its me again ahaha 🙈

Feeling you with the number of RQs ! (': i have a lot of unfinished ones too, and I FEEL SO JORRIVLE FOR SENDING ONE in knowing that💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭, but this has been in the forefront of my mind 😵‍💫. Please don't feel pressured to respond! 🫣 I won't blame you if you'd rather not to ☺️🙌//

...

Yandere Outlaw, having abducted reader, not at all having had anticipated the strength of their connections.

While reader isn't necessarily strong themselves, they have a strong family, a line of uncles and brothers that are feared across the West for their brutality, their violence, and most notably, their loyalty. This is especially jarring given that reader is the youngest in the family, so of course they would be overprotective over them, as weren't they just the baby of the family, their sweet lil pumpkin?

It's why they are second only to Outlaw himself in terms of criminality, notorious instead, however for how they are willing to kill for blood feud, and to wreak havoc in a bid to avenge anyone that crossed the path of their family member(s).

Now picture this: having heard of reader's abduction, to describe their reaction as fury, rage, even wrath, would all be an understatement. They would be getting together, coordinating a plan, and intending to shoot the damn bastard dead, as scum like him should pay for messing with the wrooong criminals.

Now this brings me to my question: what would Outlaw's reaction be to waking up one day to see not a trace of their darling, their hostage rescued by their cowboy brothers and uncles? (Or something more creative than this,, ^^"" ", i doubt that theyd leave him with lungs and eyes, let alone ALIVE after locating his whereabouts and saving their sweet lil pumpkin, thw baby of the family. My imagination can only take me so far an idk 😓💔)

Would Outlaw go after each individual member of the family down, on a furious witch-hunt in a bid to rescue their darling? After all, Outlaw has been on countless raids riding solo with nothing aside from a horse and his trusty shotgun, became infamous for being the West's deadliest gunslinger, has eliminated the wealthiest businessmen and robbed them of all their money, and made a career out of being a criminal.

Or would he accept defeat? This is clearly not a family to mess with, and it was a miracle that they hadn't put his beheaded head on a stake and set it on fire, condemnimg his corpse. He'd have to be a fool to risk this, wouldn't he? Was reader, his darling, really worth that risk?

Would love to hear your thoughts ! ☺️💞

ALSO SORRU FOE THE REALLY LONG ASKS I FEEL SO BAD BC I GDT CARRIED AWAY JDJSJAJAJASSS 😭😭🙏 PLS FORGIVR ME AAAAAAARRHEHSS

My sweet Anon, we simply must find a name for you ! Your ideas cannot go without an identity to which we can attribute their creation ^^. Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful mind with us <3 !

♡ This occurrence is very in-character for the Outlaw to encounter; albeit never on such an intimate level.

♡ He’s made enemies out of every criminal in the West – namely for resigning them to a life imprisoned while making off with his loot, gifting them a sentence he’d have served himself were he not so adept at the skill of escapism. In the early days when he first started working with other criminals, at least; he’d never make such a mistake now.

♡ You see, the Outlaw is the very definition of work smarter, not harder. So while he may seem as if he’s given up his pursual of you by hanging back, letting you go back to your family and re-integrate with civilised life, he’s tracking you. Watching you. Anticipating your every move.

♡ He’ll find you – eventually – but he won’t swoop in to retrieve you at the first opportunity; he knows that this will simply incur another rescue effort and his imminent execution.

♡ He’ll start to pick off the male authority figures in your family, starting with the weakest (however large and imposing they may be).

♡ He knows that, without the leader, the pack will scatter, meaning that there will still be some of your family he missed during his executions – members who could still come looking for you upon discovering your kidnapping (again).

♡ Sure, picking off the weakest ones will put the strongest on-edge, but it keeps them packed together – around you – right where he wants them.

♡ The Outlaw knows of the Reader’s family’s reputation. He’s even met them during the occasional heist; opportunists by trade in their willingness to jump upon the corpse of the Outlaw’s victories as soon as his back is turned. But he also knows none are as keen and accurate a marksman as he, and he uses this to his advantage.

♡ While the Outlaw specialises in short-range firearms, he is more than capable with long-distance ones, too. And, once he lures your protectors away from you, he’ll ensure their execution is swift and unforeseen. He’ll perch atop a sturdy tree branch and steady himself, bringing the head of whoever fell for his diversion into the sights of a Whitworth he dusted off and brought from home.

♡ The minute he knows you’re all alone – that your uncles and brothers and cousins are too busy painting the town red with their bodies to stow you away – is when he’ll swoop in, plucking you out of bed and slinging you over his shoulder as he had all those months ago during your first meeting, winding you as he throws you atop his horse and bolting off into the horizon.

♡ So, to put it simply, Anon: yes. To the Outlaw, you are absolutely worth the effort.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

#sweet as an angel #yandere #original yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere outlaw #yandere outlaw x reader #yandere writing #yandere blog #tw yandere

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reverieblondie · 8 months ago

Text

Dark Prince Rolan AU: Prologue

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: Violence, Pinning, and Smut. warnings will be more detailed as the story progresses.

A/N: I am so excited to be getting this story started! This will be my first long fic I have made for Rolan and I am super excited to share it! I want to give a huge shout out to my dear Sweet Anon! They have been such a big support on helping me so much with this story with helping me with ideas and plot and proofreading and helping with revisions. They are amazing! I hope you all become as obsessed with this story as we are!

Word count: 1,501

Chapter 1 -> The Union

Zevlor's lungs ache as he runs through the grand tapestried walls of the castle. Rolan's command was clear: Storm through the palace, gather every noble you can find and herd them into the throne room where Rolan waits.

As Zevlor rushes past his fellow brothers and sisters in arms, he feels that slight flicker of hope, hope for justice, that all they have fought for and lost will have been worth it. Passing by each companion, he sees that though they have the upper hand in the fight, they have not yet won. Waldemar's guards desperately try to cut them down, but the tieflings are desperate, too. Though, unlike the guards, the tieflings' desperation had long since boiled into a rage, one just as powerful as any sense of duty, and it continues fueling them all to fight back. This isn't just them taking a castle; this is them taking back their lives.

Zevlor skidded past Karlach as she cut down two guards in a scream. The fire within her calmed but was still burning as she swung down her axe. To the right, Larkessa provides defense for Alfria, and though the sound of her strumming could hardly be heard over the ensuing combat, the magic that resonated from each plucked cord was still felt as it bolstered and reverberated through her allies. Zevlor's burning eyes swept around the battle, on the lookout for any stranglers or escapees but spying none. A shrill cry of a scream catches his attention as he sees Tilses being overrun by two guards. With a smite and a swing of his long sword, their blood is spilled to the polished marble, staining it the blood red of Waldemar's flag. With a quick healing touch, Zevlor has her back on her feet, but gratitude will have to wait until this war ends: "Commander, we have swept the castle. All nobles are in the throne room. Rolan is waiting for you there."

The old paladin touches her shoulder and nods, "We are almost there. Just stay alive." With that, Zevlor took off again towards the throne room. The previous ache in his lungs dulled as the adrenaline cast a second wind over his body.

Towards the throne room, bodies line the floors, and the feeling of the Weave vibrates through as the air grows denser and more prevalent the closer he gets. At the doors of the closed throne room, Zevlor hears the harsh voices of the pinned-up nobles, cursing or promising anything to any soul that might listen. Their words fall on deaf ears as Cal and Rolan stand surrounded by the slain and the unconscious. When the two younger men noticed Zevlor, Cal smiled while Rolan kept his stern gaze.

"Tilses says all the nobles we could find within the walls are in the throne room. So, what is the next step of your plan?"

Rolan hums as he looks down at his hands, making Zevlor's brow furrow. He had been told to get them here, but now he detects hesitation from Rolan. It's short-lived, however, and the wizard looks up to his younger brother with a new look of determination in his eyes.

"Cal, I want you to go find Lia. I will meet up with you two when this is over."

Cal tried to protest but was quickly cut off, "Just do as I say, Cal. Please."

With a nod and a quick embrace, Cal is running down the blood-stained hall.

Zevlor and Rolan watched him leave, and once he was out of view, Rolan turned toward the paladin, "Zevlor, I need you to guard this door. I need you to ensure nobody, friend or foe, enters this room until I exit."

Zevlor is taken by surprise for a moment, but he is all too compelled to give a nod. Rolan let out a quick sigh, placing a hand on Zevlor's armored shoulder before the young wizard turns away, lifting his head high as he approaches the doors.

"What are you going to do?"

Rolan turns his head, eyes serious and simmering with righteous fury. "What I must."

With a sharp gesture of his hands, Rolan loosed a spell, blasting through the heavy doors as if they were paper and allowing the wizard entry. Zevlor caught the sight of the shaken nobles for only a moment before another harsh gesture from Rolan summoned a thick wall of scorching flame, barricading the entrance and obscuring all beyond the threshold from sight.

Zevlor readied himself, his blade still unsheathed, when the first two armored guards approached, their weapons drawn, and demanded entry. Lifting his sword, the paladin refused; thus, the battle for the throne room ensued.

Zevlor parried and ducked as the two guards tried to overwhelm him, sending silent thanks to Dammon for the armor that now shielded him from their blades. The paladin became aware of more approaching footsteps before allies and enemies rounded the corner as both sides became aware of where their leaders were.

Tilses was the first to make it to her Commander's side, dispatching a third guard who had been advancing on the older tiefling, and soon the other two lay dead at the Hellriders' feet. Moments later, Zevlor sent her back down the hall, carrying Rolan's orders to the others while guard captains rallied what remained of their own men to reach the throne room at any cost.

The two sides continued to clash, and the air continued to grow thick with the metallic scent of blood. Karlach tipped over the long tables intermittently lined against the walls, creating makeshift barricades for the archers and marksmen like Lakrissa to use as cover; the objects previously on display crashed to the floor and were trampled underfoot as the hellfire warrior then turned her focus back to their foes. As more guards attempted to force their way down the hall, Alfira dashed from cover to cover, dragging wounded allies behind the heavy wood to heal them before they charged back into the fray. Whatever foes slipped through this gauntlet would have to contend with Zevlor. They never reached him unharmed, but the attack to breach the castle had been brutal; the battle throughout the palace had been long, and the paladin knew that, sooner or later, one side would eventually have to buckle under that strain.

Another pair of guards began to close in on Zevlor. He didn't give them the chance to gain the upper hand, driving his blade through one's armored shoulder before ducking to the side as the other attempted to charge him. From his peripherals, Zevlor caught sight of the second guard attempting to whirl back around to flank him. Without thinking and in one fluid motion, the paladin wrenched his sword free as he turned and kicked the charging guard into the roaring blaze at the threshold. The man's final agonized scream was brief as metal melted onto blistering skin, leaving nothing but a mass of charred flesh and slag.

Both men stood there for a moment, stunned by the brutality of the flames. Zevlor almost doesn't move aside in time when the remaining guard manages to tear his eyes away from the blaze. The guard's swing was clumsy, the wound on his arm having weakened the grip on his own sword—two things the paladin capitalized on. Guard and weapon clattered to the floor, and Zevlor quickly knocked the blade away from the man's reach with a boot. Before either could decide their next move, a new sound joined the din of battle, and his stomach dropped.

Screams. Panicked, pained, and utterly desperate screams from beyond the wall of flame began to swell and drown out everything. This time, it seemed as if the whole battle had halted, with friend and foe alike standing frozen as they heard the ensuing hell.

Zevlor's only source of comfort at that moment was the sight of the wall of flame, knowing that if it still remained, then that had to mean the same for its caster. Surely, it had to mean that Rolan still lived. It had to. The screams grew shrill and ragged, spilling from the throne room and echoing throughout the hall. Louder and louder, reaching a harrowing peak, until... silence.

Seconds later, the roaring wall of flame flickered, dimmed, and slowly began to disappear.

Once the flames had dissipated, Zevlor released the breath that he hadn't realized had been trapped in his chest. His eyes widened at the sight of Rolan standing completely unharmed in the middle of the throne room—alone.

The sound of shuddering breaths came from the wounded guard at Zevlor's feet, "The- The nobles... The King.. What- What did you do?". The man trembled, eyes unblinking and mortified.

"What your king swore to do," Rolan answered, head held high as he lifted a hand, revealing the gold and jeweled crown of the king dangling irreverently from the wizard's clawed fingers. "Purge the monsters from Waldemar.”

Sweet Anon A/N: Thank you to Reverieblondie for allowing me to help with this awesome story, up to including trusting me to help with the plot (and for being a good sport about me more or less plopping a whole fight scene into the prologue because I got excited after I read how she wrote Zelvor wrecking two guards).

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rogue-durin-16 · 1 month ago

Text

PAST PROTOCOL

Request: hey beautiful you…could we maybe have more Nixon then? what about at the attack on Foy, reader gets hurt and Lewis has to be held back because he is panicking and furious about Dike letting this happen?

Summary: Things can get complicated when decade-long feelings meet restrictive protocols due to gaps in military ranks.

Pairing: Lewis Nixon x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Requested by: anon

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, blood, depictions of period-typical violence (it's literally ww2)

A/N: Didn't put much thought into this one but I think it turned out alright. Again, never thought writing for Nixon would be entertaining but here we are. Another George Luz request coming right away btw. They're keeping me busy while I find the strength to keep organizing the Liebgott multipart without spiraling. Enjoy <3

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The night was dark, quiet enough that the occasional murmur of voices seemed to carry through the entire company. I could feel the weight of what Lipton and I had come to say pressing down on me, but it was too late to turn back now.

My First Sergeant paced before me, an uncharacteristic cigarette hanging from his lips. He didn't like this one bit.

"Lip," Winters greeted exiting the improvised Battalion Headquarters, his voice measured as usual despite the shakingly low temperatures . "Y/n/n?"

Lipton and I shared a resigned look before I addressed the confused officer. "Sir."

"What in Pete's name are you doing here?"

"It's... Part of the reason why we're here, Sir." The West Virginian man replied before I could. 'Let me do the talking, alright?' Lip had requested on our way.

Winters gave us a steady yet somewhat weary nod and prompted us to follow him into the tent where he and Nixon were huddled over maps, the low lantern light casting long shadows on their faces.

Nixon had to do a double check when I trailed behind Lip. He raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of us with a hint of suspicion but not saying a word.

"So," Winters sat down, expectant, hands around a mug of steaming coffee. "what is it? How are the men?"

“Sir, the men are ready.” Lipton said, his tone steady, though his jaw was clenched. "I'll be leading Second Platoon tomorrow. It's the most affected out of the three and I figured it'd be best for me to take care of them." Winters gave him a nod as a form of agreement, and his eyes couldn't help but land on me for an instant. "I have full confidence in the men, Sir."

Here we go.

"On the other hand, I have no confidence in our CO, Sir." Winters’ expression shifted—just a flicker of surprise in his otherwise steady gaze. "He's an empty uniform. He's been taking... very questionable decisions." Lip's gaze flickered to me. "I think tomorrow he's gonna get a lot of Easy men killed, Sir."

He dropped it as heavy as it came, and one would think that would have everyone's attention on him, but Nixon was unabashedly focused on me.

I knew he wouldn't like me being there. It only meant trouble —trouble he could not solve, and that ate at him from the inside.

Nix and I had practically grown up together, our families being close since we were born. The older we got, the more we gravitated towards each other, an unspoken connection pulling us in. Sadly, war came and, to our mothers' dismay, we both enlisted.

Nixon, became an officer while I had to climb from down below —something I wasn't used to, but I had never backed down from a challenge. We wouldn't have imagined he would be assigned to my company. That made things way too complicated.

Which is why he drastically distanced himself from me; for both our sakes. It was difficult enough as it was, I couldn't have an officer favoring me and he couldn't engage in issues just because they involved me.

"I'm gonna address the elephant in the room. What’s she doing here?" Nixon asked, tilting his head with a scrutinizing look.

Lipton hesitated, choosing his words carefully, but I could sense that he was unsure of how much to say. "She'll be leading First Platoon tomorrow, Sir."

"She what?" Nixon jumped from his spot, brows almost meeting his hairline.

"You're not in this?" Winters' shocked whisper was directed exclusively to his friend.

"Do I look like I'm in this to you?" The brunet man spat more bitter than he should have. "Where is this coming from? Who's idea was it?"

"Permission to speak frankly, Sir?" I said, directing my question to Winters instead.

"Permission granted." He had become accustomed to it; Nixon and I using him as a bridge.

I drew a deep breath, and for a second, I questioned if this was a mistake. But the words had already lined up in my mind, and I knew I couldn’t hold back. "I’m a Staff Sergeant. I clearly shouldn't be leading a platoon," I said, keeping my voice even. "Just like Lieutenant Dike shouldn’t be leading Easy Company, Sir. He's as qualified to do so as I am."

Silence fell, thick and heavy in the small space. They both knew I had never spoken ill of any officer or fellow soldier, no matter what I had seen myself dragged into. That's how bad it had gotten.

Nixon’s mouth opened, but for a moment, he seemed unsure of what to say. "You’re saying Dike’s incapable."

"Yes, Sir," I replied, my voice softer but no less certain. "Respectfully, Sir, he’s going to get people killed if he’s in charge out there. We’ve all seen it. And the men—" I glanced at Lipton, who gave a tight nod of encouragement. "They don’t trust him."

Winters exchanged a long look with Lipton, and I could see the gravity of the situation weighing on him. But as much as he might have wanted to do something, it wasn't their choice, and we were stuck with it.

We were about to be halfheartedly dismissed when Nixon exhaled a low, frustrated sigh. "So what do you want us to do about it? We’re as boxed in here as you are," he said, though the irritation in his tone was directed somewhere far beyond us.

'don't ask me for help' he wished to say instead. The four of us knew the moment I stepped into the CP, the problem in his eyes would be less about the company and more about me.

A part of me thought Lipton wanted this to happen; perhaps he hoped Nixon would put more pressure up on Regiment if I was dragged into it.

"We know, Sir." Lipton replied, carefully redirecting the officer's attention to him. "But as First Sergeant, I figured it was my duty to let you know what we think."

"The orders are clear." Winters finally spoke, his words steady but carrying a hint of resignation. "Dike is to lead."

Lipton’s shoulders sagged a little, and I felt the weight of what I’d feared all along settle heavily in my chest.

"Understood, Sir." Lip said, his voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, I almost regretted speaking up, but there was no turning back.

Lipton and I turned to leave, but Nixon’s voice stopped me as I stepped outside.

"Y/n."

I looked back, meeting his gaze. For a second, it seemed he wanted to say something else, something that wasn’t bound by ranks or regulations. He wouldn't do that, though.

"Stay safe tomorrow."

I limited myself to respond with the short sentence I had struggled so much to internalize when it came to Nixon. "Yes, Sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the cold, gray light just before dawn, the trees cast long shadows over the gathered soldiers. A tense quiet filled the air, broken only by the low murmurs of the men making last checks on their gear and formations. Winters was crouched a few feet away with Dike, going over the plan, his voice steady and insistent, doing his best to guide him through every step. Our Lieutenant's gaze drifted across the field toward Foy, and I couldn't help but wonder if Winters was getting any word into him.

With Martin's help, I stood a little apart with the men of First Platoon, running through their positions, double-checking who would be where, and making sure each of them understood. They all knew I shouldn't be leading, but tried their best to help me out.

Lipton who did the same as me with Second Platoon not too far away from us, caught my eye with a quick nod, offering some small assurance. But before I could fully return the gesture, Nixon appeared, slipping through the trees toward me.

"Sergeant." he took a look around us and gestured me to step aside with him.

"Captain." My curt response was choked by the formalities I no longer felt like indulging.

"Who exactly decided you’d be leading First Platoon into Foy?"

Oh, he was mad.

"Lieutenant Dike, Sir." his jaw clenched at the mention of the commanding officer. I knew what Lew would have said to me. But Captain Nixon surely wasn't able to cuss out my superior.

"Why was that?"

I barely held back a huff. "He gave no explanation, Sir, just pointed at me and moved on."

He pressed his lips into a line, clearly unsatisfied. "So you didn't do anything to bring this to yourself?"

"No, Captain." My gloved fingers tightened around my rifle's strap. "I just happened to be nearby."

"That's pretty hard to believe." There was a tinge of poison in his words. 'I don't buy it', he meant.

"Sir, with all due respect," I took a step towards him, shortening the distance between us. "Believe whatever you want. It's none of my business."

He held my gaze, conveying that annoyingly protective instinct I seemed to trigger in him since we were teens. "You're not qualified to do this."

"Frankly, Captain, if you have a problem," without thinking twice, I raised my pointer finger at Dike, sat still in the same position Winters had left him in. "go have a word with Lieutenant Dike. I'm clearly not qualified for this either."

That was it, I thought to myself when I turned heel. That was the last conversation I would have with Lew.

Maybe he thought the same, because I had barely lifted my foot off the mud when his hand found my elbow and tugged on it.

His eyes were softer now, brows knitted with worry. "Did he even ask if you wanted the job?"

"No, Sir." With a sigh, he glanced away, and while he tried to find the words, I continued speaking. "I didn't wanna be put in this position, but I'm gonna do my best to make it right." It wasn't the reassurance he needed, but I couldn't offer anything else when I had that horrible feeling in the back of my mind.

He saw straight through me, as always.

Nixon’s voice lowered as he dangerously closed the distance between us. "What happens when he gets himself in over his head?" I couldn't even open my mouth before he hissed "First platoon is leading in, what happens when you have to shoulder the whole attack?"

"What's the point of this goddamn conversation, Lew?" It slipped. It was quiet but it slipped. "It's... It's an order. I'm just doing as I'm told."

Nixon swallowed the lump in his throat but it had triggered a tenderness out of him I didn't expect. "You're right, I'm sorry. I just— this is madness." I muttered a soft 'I know'. "Y/n, I tried. I tried to get him transferred. Dick and I-" He discontent grunt escaped him. "He's untouchable and it's gonna cost us dear. And you're getting dragged into it, I swear to God, this son of a—"

"Alright, stop." The back of my hand stealthily brushed his, killing the words at the tip of his tongue. "I’ll figure something out."

Before return the hold I previously had on my gear, Nixon's cold digits trapped mine for an instant, giving them a squeeze. "Look, just... watch out down there, okay?" Nixon ran a hand through his hair. He was past the point of being tired. "Don't make me write to your mother."

'don't get killed'.

"Yes, Sir."

I held his gaze for a moment, something tight and unspoken settling between us.

As if on cue to break the spell we shouldn't be under, Martin called my name. It was time. With an apologetic look, I stepped back in my Platoon's direction.

"Stay sharp, Sergeant." Another plea, just like the night before.

I managed a small, grim smile. "Always do."

Martin sidled up beside me, raising a brow as he watched Nixon walk away to reach Sink. "The hell was all that about?"

I shrugged, adjusting my helmet before spinning to face him. "Just… Nixon being Nixon." Martin gave me a weary up-and-down that I swiftly shook off. "Let's do this, yeah?"

He nodded, clapping my back and prompting me to join the platoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We didn't even make it to town before what everyone feared happened.

We had made it through D-Day, Carentan and Holland, but when Lip, Luz and I exchanged exasperated looks crouched behind hay bales, it was clear as day we all thought that was it for us.

After a lot of outraged yelling on our parts to try and get anything out of Dike, the Lieutenant did what no one expected. He gave an order.

"First Platoon will surround Foy!" Dike’s voice might have been a quiver, but it was a direct command nonetheless.

It hit like a punch to the gut.

"Are you f—" My voice caught in my throat as I looked back toward him, trying to read any sense in his face. "Sir, you want First Platoon alone to surround and attack the town?!"

"Sir, they're gonna be exposed!" I had never heard so much anger in Lipton's voice, but it there was a time, it was now.

"We will provide c-covering fire!" Dike's shellshock face snapped to me. "Move it, Y/l/n! N-now!"

I didn’t have a choice. I ran back to my platoon bullets ricocheting around me. I kept my head down while I signaled Martin to take the men forward. With every nerve on fire, we pushed out the best we could until we were spread too thin around the town.

It was chaos all around while I tried my best to lead a platoon I shouldn't have been assigned in the first place.

Then it happened.

A sharp, hot pain ripped through my side. My legs buckled, the ground rushing up to meet me as I went down hard.

NIXON'S P. O. V.

I watched through binoculars the disaster unfold, my heart hammering violently with every wrong move, every stop, every scream from Dick.

I saw Dike’s shaky gestures and heard the garbled command over the radio, muffled by George's frantic plead for his CO to take the phone.

The binoculars dropped over my chest when I snapped my head at the higher ups from Regiment overlooking the scene almost unbothered at the sight of their best Company getting massacred.

Dick was too busy trying to get Dike on the radio, so I took it upon myself to not so kindly go off at XO's a few steps away from me.

I wasn't too far when the radio crackled with Lipton’s voice. All we got was 'Y/n' and 'hit'.

"She’s down!" Luz’s voice cut in, strained and tense, making my blood run cold. "Y/n’s down! First platoon is stranded!"

My chest seized, panic clawing up my throat when my trembling hands lifted the binoculars back to my eyes. Fate seemed to play a cruel joke and made me direct my view straight at Y/n, lying on the ground with a crimson pool of blood under her middle, propagating on the pristine white snow.

I barely registered Winters' furious call for Speirs; I was too busy grabbing my rifle —the same rifle I had never shot. My mind was a blur as my feet attempted to carry me to the battlefield.

Winters yanked me back by my arm and I shoved him off, only for Colonel Sink to step forward and block my path. I believe he was shouting something about ranks, but all I could hear was Luz's message ringing in my head.

There were numerous times in this godforsaken war in which I had felt useless and overpowered, but never to this level.

Nothing compared to the helpless feeling of having to watch the girl I had grown up with —the one I had so badly tried to protect— shot down in the middle of a frontline; caught in the crossfire without anyone able to help her while she bled to death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

The aid station was full of activity as medics moved between beds, their voices a murmur of steady instructions. I had been drifting in and out of consciousness since they had brought me in.

I wasn’t fully sure, but chances were Speirs had been the one who got me out of Foy. I could still hear the echo of his barked orders, steady and focused, right before someone's hands had snatched my body from the chaos and onto a stretcher.

The sting of antiseptic seared my side, snapping me back to the present. A nurse leaned over me, quietly murmuring something I didn’t quite catch as she tended to my bandages. I forced myself to stay still, swallowing back a hiss of pain, when suddenly, through the thin canvas walls of the tent, a familiar voice rang out.

It was Nixon, and from the sound of it, he was furious.

"—no, I don’t give a damn if that’s not procedure. This never should have happened!" I could almost see him out there, pacing back and forth. "Dike’s a goddamn disaster. How many times did we say he’d freeze under fire?" There was a pause, then the slam of a fist against something solid—a crate, maybe. "We got soldiers down in there because he panicked. Is this what you needed to take Easy off his hands?"

My chest tightened, and I tried to sit up, ignoring the ache in my side. The nurse gave me a sharp look, pressing a hand to my shoulder, but I strained to listen.

"Do NOT tell me I'm outta line again, Lieutenant." A scoff. "You all knew he wasn’t fit for this," Nixon’s tantrum continued. "We all did. And now she’s in there, and I'm out here, waiting to see if she makes it out while I listen to this dumbfuckery!" He forced himself to continue, voice rougher. "This isn't— you're not pushing another replacement officer into the company."

There was another pause, and I could hear someone else murmuring low responses, as if trying to calm him down. But Nixon wasn’t having any of it.

"I don't give a damn! He's not gonna command Easy." Another murmur, another humorless laugh. "Oh yeah? I’ll go straight to Sink myself if I have to." The tent flap shifted, and finally caught a glimpse of him. No helmet, no gear. Just his winter uniform and that disheveled look he sported. God, he was handsome. "You're dismissed."

His arm hit the canvas with a grunted curse, and his confident steps came to a halt when he spotted my sitting form.

Resolved, he made a beeline to my stretcher, dismissing the nurse on his way.

"Captain Nixon—"

"Fuck that." My eyes widened ever so slightly at his harsh pitch. "I told you to be safe."

"Sir—"

"Don't call me that, Y/n/n." Oh. "I'm not in the mood to play on this bullshit." His complaint barely made sense to me, but I figured it had something to do with the trail of stitches on my abdomen and the fact that he had to witness it. "I told you to be safe." He repeated, this time with more intent.

"Are you really gonna scold me after getting fucking shot, Lew?" The act was down among us, but I just hoped no one could get me court-martialled for it. "Keep treating me like a kid, see where that takes you."

"I know you're not a kid."

"Then why do you keep acting like this?" I did my best no to raise my voice at him; the situation was a bit too reminiscing of the argument we held after he found out I had enlisted.

He had that same look on his face and that same paternalistic tinge, as if it was up to him what I could and couldn't do. This time he looked less anxious and more exhausted, though.

"You're doing it again." I warned him, but it only seemed to bother him even more.

"I'm doing it again because you keep doing this!"

"What's 'this'?" I spat, attempting to sit up only for his palms to hold me back onto the makeshift bed. "You hate seeing me try and hold my ground on my own?"

"I hate seeing you get hurt!" He was past the point of caring; if it wasn't obvious by the feelings-fueled shouts, the way he kneeled by my side did the trick. "Y/n/n." He shut his eyes, exhaling to collect himself. "I promised your mother I would take care of you, alright? How do I explain this without her forbidding me to step a foot on you house ever again?"

"You shouldn't have promised her anything." I limited myself to respond, although my reply was way less hostile and more understanding. I knew my mother would have dragged him into something of the like, but that was a burden he shouldn't have been carrying. "This is war, Lew."

"I had to." In those saddened dark irises, I saw a reflection of the boy who, scared, used to stand up for me in every situation. The kid that didn't fight unless cornered; the one that would always do anything to keep my reckless self safe.

I denied with furrowed eyebrows. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. I've always done that." He was trying to convey something through his retort, but when he saw it didn't seem to reach me, he gave up. "You don't know how much you mean to me. And God knows I wish it wasn't like that because you can be so annoyingly stupid."

Lew got one thing right from the beginning of this ranks shitshow— I was his problem. I had always been. And he had learned the hard way he couldn't keep saving me.

"I had to see you bleed to death and no one let me do anything about it." There was the scolding tone again, only that this time desperation and guilt engulfed it, and I couldn't help but feel bad. "Do you understand how that felt?" It was nothing more than a whisper.

"Do you think I wanted this to happen?" I matched his tone with a pleading gaze. "I followed orders, Lew. Why would I wanna get shot?" He casted his eyes down. "And why would I wanna put you through that?"

His hands rested on the side of the stretcher and I wondered for a second if, aside from being past ranks and formalities, we were also past protocol.

Fuck the protocol, I thought to myself before placing my palm atop his.

"I hate this, Lew."

His hand turned to intertwin his fingers with mine. A quiet silence briefly reigned our little corner of the aid station while we gazed at each other like starcrossed lovers from our books would.

"You're a good soldier, Y/n/n." It was an odd compliment coming from him. Maybe it wasn't a compliment at all.

I feared it would be something else; a goodbye, perhaps.

He swallowed, eyes darting everywhere before finding mine again. "You're getting back to the States in the next ship." Before I could open my mouth, he added, "It's not my doing."

Nixon expected me to clap back.

Maybe three years ago I would have.

"You're staying." It wasn't a question, but he answered nevertheless.

"The job's not done."

Only then it occurred to me why he was there.

"You've come to say goodbye?"

"We're moving out in a couple of hours." His hand escaped my own. So did his eyes. "I hate this too, Y/n/n."

My palms came to cover my face with a shaky sigh, the back of the head sinking into the poor excuse of a pillow.

"If you get yourself killed, Lew, I swear to God." My voice broke slightly. Whether it was due to the exhaustion or the fear of losing him, I couldn't tell.

"You'll come back to kill me?" He finished, making me peek through my fingers at his form, half turned away from me.

"Yeah."

"Consider recovering first, alright?" He attempted to joke, although the situation was too somber to make it land.

"I'm serious." I warned, uncovering my face to look at him —properly look at him— one last time.

"I know."

He wanted to say more, I saw it in the gleam of his eyes and the way his lips parted ever so subtly.

He didn't. He couldn't, not even when we were past formalities. It was too... Improper? Heavy?

It was too much.

So instead he rose to his feet, his digits fumbling a little to find my own and give them a tight squeeze, his attention roaming the tent to check if someone was watching.

"I'll see you back home." His voice was low yet clear, holding intent. 'I'm gonna come back to you', he tried to get across.

"Don't take too long." I responded, hoping he could read the plea in my visage.

This time it was me who let go of his hand, a silent allowance on my part for him to walk away, which he halfheartedly did, sparing me one last glance from the aid station entrance before disappearing behind the tarp.

"Jesus Christ..." I muttered under my breath, shutting my eyes to stop the tears from spilling. "You better come back."

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targtowerxstark · 1 month ago

Text

A Northern promise

Cregan Stark X Targtower Reader

Requested by Anon💌. Thank you so much for the requests. Requests are open!!

summary: The princess has to travel north to propose a marriage pact but finds Cregan is away at war. At castle black Cregan and his men are fighting hard to slay the wildings but all hope seems lost, until they hear a dauntingly loud roar in the distance….

In the dimly lit council chambers, the air was thick with tension as the princess sat among her family, and other members of the kings council, their expressions grave and determined. They discussed strategies to bolster their support for the impending war, voices rising and falling as ideas were exchanged.

Finally, an idea was settled upon: sending the princess to the North to engage Lord Stark in political discourse. The notion of a marriage pact was floated, a potential alliance that could strengthen their position and secure vital support against their enemies.

"We need to secure Lord Stark's support," her mother declared, her voice steady but laced with tension. "A marriage pact could solidify our alliance."

As she listened, the weight of the responsibility settled on her shoulders, knowing that her journey could alter the course of their fate.

The princess felt a flutter of apprehension in her stomach. The idea of marrying a man she barely knew was daunting, yet she understood the gravity of their situation.

"Mother, do you truly believe this is the best course of action?" she asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in her voice.

Her mother nodded, her expression resolute. "It’s not just about you, my dear. It’s about the future of our house. The North is strong, and their loyalty could turn the tide in our favor."

Her brother Aemond chimed in

“Although i long for you to stay in the capital sweet sister, mother is right. The Norths population is almost as big as the other six kingdoms put together, it is powerful and we need to secure an alliance with them, although mother i do think it is unbefitting of a Targaryen princess to be marrying some dog rather than someone who shares her blood, like myself.

Your mother quickly replied. “Aemond you mustn’t degrade the lords of the kingdoms like such, and as for marriages we shall need you to secure alliances to further strengthen your brothers claim to the throne, I will hear no more of the matter.”

As the council debated the logistics, y/n’s mind raced. Could she charm Lord Stark and persuade him to join their cause? What would it mean to leave her home and step into a world so different from her own? She took a deep breath, knowing that her duty was clear and she has no choice.

"If it is for the good of our house, I will go," she finally said, her voice firm despite the uncertainty swirling within her. The decision was made, and she felt the weight of her family's hopes resting on her shoulders.

As the princess made her way to the dragon pit, the cool evening air wrapped around her, a stark contrast to the warmth of the council chambers. With each step, she could feel the weight of her choice pressing down on her, but the thought of soaring through the skies on her dragon filled her with a sense of purpose. The massive stone structure loomed ahead, its entrance adorned with intricate carvings of dragons, a reminder of her family's legacy. Upon entering, the familiar scent of warm stone and the faint sound of her dragon’s low rumble greeted her. She approached her dragon, a magnificent creature with shimmering emerald scales that glinted in the dim light. Climbing onto its back, she felt a rush of exhilaration as the dragon unfurled its wings, stretching them wide. With a powerful leap, they took to the skies, the ground falling away beneath them.

As they flew northward, the wind whipped through her hair, and she closed her eyes for a moment, embracing the freedom and the daunting journey ahead, determined to secure the alliance that could change everything. The green fields below her quickly turned white with heavy snows and the sights of animals and children below became scarce as it is only a dead man’s wish to be out in this cold.

As the princess dismounted her dragon, her boots thudded softly against the frost-kissed ground of Winterfell. The castle loomed before her, its ancient stones weathered by time, a stark contrast to the smooth, polished walls of her own home. She took a moment to absorb her surroundings—tall, rugged trees stood sentinel around the fortress, their branches heavy with snow, and the air was crisp, carrying a hint of woodsmoke from the hearths within.

Approaching the gates, she felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. Just then, a maester clad in thick furs stepped forward, his expression solemn.

"My Princess,it is an honour to greet you, I am the maester of Winterfell, what brings you here?" he inquired, his voice deep and cold.

"I must speak with Lord Stark on behalf of my father, the king. I am a royal guest why has Lord Stark not received me himself"

she replied trying to hide that she felt insulted. A person of her status should be received by the Lord of the castle not an old man.

The master shook his head, his brow furrowing.

"I am sorry princess, I’m afraid he is away at the Wall, fighting against the wildlings. They’ve breached the defenses and are through castle black. The battle will be a long one and i don’t believe Lord Stark will return with even half the men he travelled there with, Winter is coming Princess and it will be as cold and fierce as ever."

A chill ran down her spine at the thought of such danger. As she glanced around, she noticed the northern people bustling about, their faces hardened by the cold and their expressions serious. They moved with a sense of purpose, their attire practical and sturdy, unlike the more ornate garments of the south. She couldn’t help but admire their resilience; they seemed shaped by the harshness of their land, and she felt a pang of respect for their strength.

As she stood at the gates of Winterfell, she realized that while the north was daunting, it also held a raw beauty and a fierce spirit that was unlike anything she had known back home but this will soon be her home should everything go in her favour. The challenges ahead would be great, but perhaps, just perhaps, she could learn from these people and their unwavering resolve.

“Castle Black you say?” she replied

“yes princess, I do believe you will be waiting a moon or so before our Lord returns, I shall have the guest quarters prepared immediately.” he explained

A mischievous look came over her face. Y/n is an impatient woman, she grew up in the red keep you would expect as much from a Targaryen princess. She wanted to talk with Cregan Stark and she wanted to do it now. “Your Lord will be back to you sooner than you think, I shall not be staying I am needed North of here but thank you for your kindness.”

And with that the princess retuned to her dragon and mounted it, taking off into the skies. If she wanted a Northern Man she would have to show she is for the North and will do anything to protect it. If one thing was known it is that Starks value loyalty and she will prove just how loyal she is willing to be in exchange for what she wants.

As she travelled north of winterfell the air became colder and the sound of clashing steel and the cries of men echoed through the air as she rode closer to the battlefield, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. The sight that greeted her was one of chaos; men fought valiantly, their faces smeared with dirt and blood, the ground beneath them soaked in the remnants of a desperate struggle. Cregan stood at the forefront, a formidable figure, his dark hair matted with sweat and grime, his expression a mask of fierce resolve, and ice, the ancestral sword was visible even from the skies.

The battle was certainly not going in the Norths favour, for every man of Lord starks there must’ve been 20 wildings y/n thought.

Just as despair began to creep into the hearts of the Northmen, a distant roar broke through the din of battle—a sound unlike any other, powerful and commanding.

"What in the gods' names was that?" one of the lords exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Cregan's expression shifted, a spark of hope igniting within him. "It could be our salvation," he murmured, turning to his men. "If it is what I think it is, we may yet turn the tide."

With a shared glance, the men knew the significance of that roar. It was a call to arms, a promise of aid. As the sound grew closer, the ground trembled beneath them, and the enemy faltered, confusion washing over their ranks.

"Get ready!" Cregan commanded, rallying his men. "We fight for our homes! We fight for the North!"

As the roar crescendoed into a thunderous presence, a massive figure emerged from the shadows—an enormous dragon, its scales glimmering like emeralds in the fading light with y/n on its back guiding it through the skies her silver hair shining all the way from the sky. The battlefield fell silent, the sight of the creature and the princess was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

"By the gods!" one of the lords gasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cregan's eyes widened, a grin breaking through his stoic demeanor. "It seems the South has sent a princess to aid us. We shall not fall this day!"

“A Southern princess in the North? The men back home won’t believe this, she won’t know what to do once she sees this battle up close my lord” one of the men began, this caused a domino affect of other men shouting and laughing amongst themselves while continuing to fight.

“I hear they have maids waiting by their side to wipe their arse when they use their chamber pot”

“Stuck up their own arse is all they are, the lot of them”

“Now Lads, One of them very Southerners is here in the North to aid us in this battle before we speak anymore we shall give her a chance to prove herself and show us what southerners are really made of”

the men erupted in laughter as they jested but they could not deny the presence of the princess has provided a new sense of hope when all seemed lost.

With renewed vigor, the Northmen surged forward, bolstered by the arrival of the dragon and the fierce determination of their lord by their side and their princess above them in the sky. Y/n felt the thrill of battle surge through her veins, her heart racing with the realization that this moment would forever change the course of her life—and perhaps the fate of the realm itself.

As the clash of steel echoed across the snowy battlefield, Cregan Stark stood resolute among his men, the air thick with the scent of smoke and the cries of war. Above them, the princess soared on her dragon. With a fierce roar, the dragon arched its neck, and the sky seemed to darken as it unleashed a torrent of fire, a brilliant stream of orange and gold that cascaded down upon the wildlings below. The flames engulfed the enemy, illuminating the stark landscape and sending a wave of heat that contrasted sharply with the biting cold. Cregan watched in awe as the dragon's fire danced through the air, consuming the wildling horde, their battle cries turning to screams as chaos erupted around them. The sight of the dragon, a symbol of power and hope, filled him with renewed strength. He rallied his men, urging them forward, knowing that with the princess and her dragon fighting by their side, victory was within reach. The wildlings faltered, their ranks breaking under the combined might of the Northmen and the dragon's fiery wrath.

Together, they fought, a united front against the chaos, and in that crucible of war, a bond began to form—one forged in the fires of battle and the promise of a shared future.

With the princesses arrival the battle was over quickly. The wildings were slayed and those who survived fled.

As the smoke cleared and the last echoes of battle faded, Cregan Stark stood at the edge of the battlefield, his armor still glinting in the pale sunlight. He felt a mix of exhaustion and elation, but his heart quickened as he spotted the princess dismounting her dragon nearby. Her presence was striking, the way she carried herself with a blend of grace and strength, her hair catching the light like spun gold.

Y/n dismounted her dragon and remained by its side, feeling slightly awkward on the battlefield she felt safe with her dragon. Lord Stark saw her by the beast and contemplated his next move. He owed the lives of his men to the princess and she was owed thanks but to approach her with such a large beast beside her would be a death wish.

Yet Lord Stark understood what was required of a man in his position so he cautiously made his way over to the princess.

"Princess," he said, bowing slightly, his voice steady despite the flutter in his chest. "Your bravery in battle was unmatched. We owe you our victory."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I must admit, it was thrilling to watch you lead your men. You have the spirit of a true Stark."

Cregan chuckled, feeling the weight of her gaze. "And you, a true dragon rider. I suppose we make quite the team."

"Indeed," she replied, a playful glint in her eye. "Though I think my dragon might have done most of my heavy lifting."

He stepped closer, the air between them charged with unspoken attraction. "Perhaps, but it was your courage that inspired us all. I am grateful for your aid."

The princess tilted her head, her smile softening. "Gratitude is a fine thing, Lord Stark, but it seems we are both bound by duty. A Stark and a princess... such alliances are often in favour of all those involved."

Cregan nodded, understanding the weight of their titles. "True, but perhaps we can find moments of levity amidst our responsibilities Princess."

"Moments of levity?”she teased, her laughter light and infectious. "You mean to say I should bring my dragon to every meeting Lord Stark?"

"Only if you promise to keep it from roasting my bannermen," he replied, his grin widening.

They both spoke in a formal manner as their status required but their age was prevalent as they exchanged playful banter, both felt the undeniable connection, aware of the path their lives were set upon. Yet, in that moment, amidst the remnants of war, they found solace in each other's company, a flicker of hope amidst the expectations of their worlds.

Later on as the sounds of laughter and celebration echoed through the clearing, the atmosphere was alive with the spirit of victory. The men of Winterfell raised their swords, toasting to their triumph on the battlefield. The princess, however, found herself drawn away from the revelry, tending to her dragon. She meticulously cleaned the ash off the creature's scales, her mind wandering as she worked.

Glancing up, she noticed Lord Stark leaning against a nearby tree, his sword glinting in the sunlight as he cleaned it with careful precision. There was an air of calm about him that intrigued her, a stark contrast to the chaos of the festivities. Taking a deep breath, she decided to approach him, her heart racing with anticipation.

“Lord Stark,” she greeted, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. “May I join you?”

He looked up, his expression shifting from concentration to surprise. “Princess,” he replied, bowing slightly. “Of course, I would be honored.”

As she stepped closer, she felt the weight of the moment. “I wanted to speak with you about something important,” she began, her tone serious yet inviting. “I’ve been sent to the North to propose a marriage pact between us. on behalf of the crown.”

His brow raised slightly, a mixture of curiosity and caution in his gaze. “A marriage pact? That is a significant proposal, my lady. May I ask what your thoughts are on the matter”

“I think it is a clever alliance Lord Stark. It would strengthen my brothers claim to the throne should my father ever change his heir and it would do the North good to have a dragon protecting it”

“I believe you have taken me up wrong princess, forgive me princess but I want to know what you think of the alliance, not what your parents have told you to believe, is this what you want?” Lord Starks heart began to race, he needed to know her thoughts on the matter, it would slightly hurt him to believe she wants no part in the alliance only she is being forced to accept.

She hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “When I saw you on the battlefield, taking charge and leading your men with such strength, I realized you would make a good husband and an excellent father. You are able to take charge and that’s a good trait in w man. The stories I’ve heard about you are impressive,your swordsmanship and your honour but it was your presence in that moment that truly convinced me.”

He studied her for a moment, the tension between them palpable. “Before I answer your proposal, I would like to know your thoughts when the small council first suggested this idea. Were you in favor of it, or was it merely a duty you felt obliged to consider Princess ?”

Her gaze dropped for a moment as she reflected. “To be honest, I was unsure. The idea of a marriage pact felt like a political maneuver at first. But after seeing you, I realized there is more to you than just a title. You have a heart that leads you, and that is what I want in a partner.”

Lord Stark’s lips curled into a faint smile, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. “You speak with such conviction. It’s refreshing. I have heard tales of your beauty and kindness, and they don’t do you justice my lady. I would feel honoured to take your hand in marriage and it seems we both are in favour of this alliance.”

“Indeed,” she replied, her heart swelling with hope. “I believe we could forge a future together, one built on mutual respect and understanding.”

After a moment of contemplation, he finally spoke. “Then I will accept your proposal. Who would I be to deny such an offer? I am but a lord, and you are a princess. I should be the one impressing you, not the other way around.”

She chuckled softly, the playful banter easing the formality of their conversation. “You underestimate the power of kindness, Lord Stark. Perhaps you should consider a more personal approach to impress me.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what might that be?”

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Perhaps a kind act, something that shows your character beyond the battlefield.”

He nodded, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Very well. I will think of a worthy act to prove my intentions. But until then, I ask that you forget about the pact, just for a moment. Allow me the chance to show you who I am beyond titles and expectations.”

“Agreed,” she replied, a smile breaking across her face. “But I will hold you to that promise, Lord Stark.”

As they exchanged playful glances, he took a step back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I shall begin my quest for your favor by ensuring the next feast is one to remember. I will have the finest meats and wines brought forth, and I will personally ensure that every guest is entertained.”

“Now that is a noble endeavor,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with delight. “But it will take more than a feast to win my heart.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I will find a way to impress you, Princess. Just you wait.”

As they continued to banter, the warmth of their connection grew, the initial formality giving way to a budding friendship.

Later on as the princess was admiring castle black she found Lord Stark stood in her view, he had a bouquet of wild northern flowers cradled gently in his hands, he felt the weight of the moment. The vibrant colors of the blooms contrasted sharply with the darkening sky, a reminder of the beauty that could exist even in the harshest of landscapes. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he approached the princess.

“Princess,” he began, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. She turned to him, her eyes wide with curiosity. “I have collected these for you.” He extended the bouquet, the delicate petals brushing against her fingers as she accepted it.

“They are beautiful,” she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “But what is this for, my lord?” she said with a slight smirk on her face knowing what was coming next.

With a mixture of determination and vulnerability, Lord Stark stepped closer, the air between them charged with unspoken feelings. “I wish to ask you something of great importance,” he said, his heart pounding in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

The princess blinked, her expression shifting from surprise to contemplation. The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world around them faded away

As the words lingered between them, the princess's breath caught in her throat. She looked deeply into Lord Stark's eyes, searching for sincerity, for the truth behind his bold proposal. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of hope and uncertainty.

In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade into a gentle silence, the rustling leaves and distant sounds of the castle becoming mere whispers. Lord Stark took a cautious step closer, drawn by an invisible force. His heart raced as he reached up, brushing a stray hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. She stared back at him, noticing the small stains of blood he had on his face and then those eyes, those deep grey eyes, she couldn’t look away. She was captivated by him.

“y/n,” he whispered, using her name for the first time, a name that felt like a promise.

“Cregan”

With a soft smile, she leaned in, closing the distance between them. The warmth of her presence enveloped him, and in that instant, he knew he could not wait any longer. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his in a tender kiss, a sweet mingling of hope and longing.

Time stood still as they shared that moment, the wildflowers forgotten in the background, blooming in harmony with the blossoming feelings between them. It was a kiss that spoke of new beginnings, of promises yet to be fulfilled, and the unbreakable bond that was forming in the heart of the North.

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onegayastronaut · 7 days ago

Text

A Dance in Shadows and Light

Requested by anon: Can I please get an imagine where the reader is the twin sister of Damon Salvatore (but is not close to either of her brothers) and she moves to New Orleans as she is close to Elijah Mikaelson. Somehow her and Freya and Keelin start to fall for one another and it’s so obvious to everyone else. So the others get tired of this and ends up getting them together. Just fluffy and angsty please? (I feel like they would be the perfect girlfriends)

Words: 1454

Moving to New Orleans wasn’t a decision you made lightly. Mystic Falls had never felt like home, not truly. Damon and Stefan were brothers in blood but strangers in heart, and their chaos had always overshadowed any semblance of peace. You’d spent years on the sidelines, watching their battles, their romances, and their destruction. It had been suffocating.

Elijah, however, was different. He had always seen you for who you were, not as an extension of your family or a pawn in someone else’s game. His poised demeanor and unyielding loyalty drew you to him, and when he invited you to New Orleans, it felt like the first step toward finding yourself.

The French Quarter was alive with magic, music, and mystery. But the true highlight of your arrival was meeting Freya and Keelin. Freya strength and resilience were magnetic, and Keelin’s sharp wit and compassion made her impossible to ignore. The three of you clicked almost instantly, a quiet understanding forming between you.

“You’ve settled in nicely,” Freya said, her voice warm as she handed you a glass of wine. You sat together on the balcony of the Mikaelson compound, the city’s vibrant energy buzzing below.

“I’m trying,” you replied, taking a sip. “Though it’s a bit surreal. No constant chaos, no family drama every second of the day.”

Freya chuckled. “Give it time. There’s always something brewing here.”

Keelin joined you then, a mischievous grin on her face. “She’s not wrong. But at least the company’s good.”

You smiled, the warmth in your chest growing as you looked between them. They had a way of making you feel seen, even when you tried to hide behind walls built over decades of neglect and pain.

Weeks turned into months, and your bond with Freya and Keelin deepened. You spent your days exploring the city and your nights sharing secrets under the stars. But as much as you cherished their friendship, an undeniable tension simmered beneath the surface.

Freya’s lingering glances, Keelin’s playful touches—they made your heart race in ways you couldn’t ignore. You found yourself caught between the two of them, unsure of how to navigate the growing feelings you harbored for both.

Elijah noticed first. “You’re distracted,” he said one evening as you sat in the library. His piercing gaze left no room for denial.

“I’m fine,” you lied, focusing on the book in your lap.

“It wouldn’t happen to involve Freya and Keelin, would it?”

Your head snapped up, heat rising to your cheeks. “What are you talking about?”

Elijah smirked. “It’s obvious to everyone but you three. The way you look at them, the way they look at you… It’s only a matter of time.”

The inevitable came during a rare evening when the Mikaelson compound was eerily quiet. Freya, Keelin, and you were sprawled on the couch, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Alright, I can’t take it anymore,” Keelin said, sitting up abruptly. “What are we doing here?”

Freya raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“This!” Keelin gestured between the three of you. “The tension, the stolen glances, the… everything. Are we just going to pretend nothing’s happening?”

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. “I…”

Freya’s gaze softened as she looked at you. “Is that how you feel?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I care about both of you so much, but I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

Keelin’s expression softened, her voice gentle. “You wouldn’t. We wouldn’t let that happen.”

Freya reached for your hand, her touch steady and reassuring. “We’ll figure this out together. If that’s what you want.”

You looked between them, the weight of your feelings crashing over you. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe. From that moment, everything shifted. The three of you navigated the complexities of your relationship with open hearts and cautious steps. There were moments of doubt, of fear, but they were always overshadowed by the love and understanding you shared.

Freya’s quiet strength grounded you, her presence a constant source of comfort. Keelin’s fiery spirit brought you to life, her laughter a melody you never tired of hearing. Together, they helped you find parts of yourself you’d long forgotten.

Even Elijah, ever the stoic observer, couldn’t hide his approval. “You’ve found something rare,” he told you one evening. “Hold onto it.”

Life in New Orleans wasn’t without its challenges. The city had a way of dredging up the past, and yours came back to haunt you in the form of a letter from Damon.

“He wants you to come back,” Freya said, reading the tension on your face as you stared at the envelope.

“I don’t think I can,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not after everything.”

Keelin placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t owe him anything. This is your life now.”

“But he’s still my brother,” you said, torn between the love you’d once felt for your family and the peace you’d found here.

Freya’s voice was firm. “Whatever you decide, we’ll be here. You’re not alone anymore.”

Their support gave you the strength to face the ghosts of your past without losing sight of your future. As the months passed, you found a rhythm with Freya and Keelin. The three of you balanced your lives together with the demands of the supernatural world around you. Freya’s work with magic, Keelin’s responsibilities as a doctor, and your own journey of self-discovery intertwined seamlessly.

One evening, as the three of you lay under the stars on the compound’s rooftop, Keelin spoke softly. “Do you ever think about what brought us here?”

“All the time,” Freya said, her voice thoughtful. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How the most unexpected things can change everything.”

You smiled, reaching for their hands. “I’m just glad we found each other.”

Freya squeezed your hand gently. “So am I.”

The courtyard of the Mikaelson compound was alive with laughter and music. Klaus’s sarcastic remarks, Elijah’s rare smile, and Rebekah’s playful teasing filled the air as the family celebrated another fleeting moment of peace.

You stood between Freya and Keelin, their hands intertwined with yours. The future was uncertain, as it always was, but for the first time, you felt ready to face it. Because you weren’t alone anymore.

And yet, the stillness didn’t last. New Orleans was as much a creature of conflict as it was of beauty. One evening, a storm brewed not in the skies but within the compound walls. Klaus stormed in, his fury palpable. “There’s a threat in the city—witches conspiring to overthrow our sanctuary.”

Freya’s gaze hardened. “Witches, or those controlled by something darker?”

Keelin touched your arm, her silent support steadying you. “Stay close. Things are about to get complicated.”

Over the weeks that followed, your world became a whirl of danger and strategy. Freya was often secluded in her magical sanctum, pouring over ancient texts. Keelin worked tirelessly, both in her clinic and as part of the team defending against the looming threat. And you? You found yourself drawn into the chaos, finding strength in protecting the city and the people who had become your family.

Late one night, as exhaustion weighed heavily on you, Freya emerged from her work. “I think I’ve found a way,” she said, her voice tinged with determination. “But it will require all of us.”

Keelin appeared, concern etched on her face. “Freya, you’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“I’ll rest when it’s done,” Freya replied, but her eyes softened as she looked at both of you. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

The battle was fierce, the air thick with magic and tension. Together, you fought to protect what you’d built. And when it was over, as the first rays of dawn broke through the city’s mist, you stood hand in hand, your bond stronger than ever.

In the quiet that followed, as you sat in the courtyard with Freya and Keelin, you realized that this was more than just a relationship. It was a partnership forged in fire and love, unbreakable and enduring.

“I love you both,” you said, the words spilling out in the soft light of morning.

Freya smiled, her hand brushing against yours. “And we love you.”

Keelin leaned in, her voice playful but earnest. “Forever and always, right?”

You laughed, tears of relief and joy streaming down your face. “Forever and always.”

New Orleans, with all its chaos and beauty, had become your home. Not because of the city itself, but because of the people who made it whole. And as you looked at Freya and Keelin, you knew you’d found your place in the world.

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