#way down we go

[xiaq]

I may not ever get over this absolutely gorgeous bind that @poppypressbindery created of Way Down We Go. The attention to detail is confounding and really emphasizes that bookbinding is an art; this bind in particular is a masterpiece. And the way it was wrapped/delivered?? Absurdly pretty. The stickers and bookmarks? Unnecessarily kind. The fact that folks like Tyler exist who love fic so much that they create beautiful physical versions of them (and then offer to send copies to the writer! For free!) is just so cool. I love fandom.

[daintyjksits]

One of my TOP drarry fics ever, just SO domestic and hurt/comfort with TONS of fluff. I had to make many different covers for this one. Way Down We Go by @xiaq on AO3 has my HEART!! fanart in the first one by @juiche

[pkcivhq]

inspired by this song

[beccawise7]

I hope you never settle for less than you deserve.

Have a fabulous night!

~beccawise7💜🖤

[p-taryn-dactyl]

maybe for way down we go somehow agatha manipulates everyone/the evidence so it looks like she's innocent/falsely accused or reader has to hide her bc she doesn't want aggie to go back to jail idk I'm sorry lol i just love reading your work

way down we go: the aftermath (ii)

a/n: ok confess did you read my mind? but really, i’m so glad you sent this in bc i was wondering if the ideas i had were bad😭 but great minds think alike and so now here’s part 2 hehehe (also thank you anon! i’m so happy you enjoy my work!) edit: dear god i am so embarrassed by what i have written here but also i hope some of y'all like it?? oh god imma go climb in a hole christ maybe i should go back to church idk word count: 1.6k warning(s): first part of this fic is smut, or what i consider smut (ok idk why it's harder for me to write spicy shit on this blog when ive written it so many other times) the rest is back to normal production of murder, crime and debauchery; like a second or two of angst; im making so much of this shit up plz don't come for me

Once she started, it felt like she would never stop. 

You didn’t want her to. 

Your hands grasped Agatha’s neck and shoulders, trembling as she brought crashing waves of pleasure over you. With eyes screwed shut, your head leaned back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. But your wife wouldn’t allow you to rest. With the hand not pumping into you, she grasped your chin, forcing you to look at her as you pried your eyes open.

“Look at me,” her voice commanded softly as the heel of her hand pressed into your clit, drawing a surprised whimper from your lips as her pace became slow and languid, “I want to see what I do to you, what only I do to you.”

At her words, there was a question radiating in her eyes, along with a sudden hardness that took your remaining breath away. You tightened your grip on your wife, following her instructions and looking deep into her eyes. 

“There was no one else, there’s always been no one else. Only you.” 

Agatha nodded slightly, increasing her pace once more and looking proud of herself as your face twisted with pleasure. 

“Only me.”

Agatha added a finger, continuously brushing your bundle of nerves with the heel of her hand, relishing in your moans and how you wrapped your arms even tighter around her neck, bringing a hand to tangle in her hair and bring her into a crashing kiss. A battle for dominance was quickly lost as her tongue parted your lips, devouring you. You felt your mind grow hazy from pleasure, the hot coil in your abdomen threatening to snap. 

The ring of your phone interrupted everything. 

You felt it buzz in your backpocket, vibrating against the wall behind you. 

Agatha didn’t like your attention being taken away. 

She shifted, removing her fingers from you, much to your chagrin. You only had a moment to process before you were moved. In a blur, you now sat in the very chair Agatha once sat, your legs propped over her shoulders, your phone in her hand as she handed it to you. You furrowed your brow in confusion as you watched it ring, Agatha’s eyes never leaving yours. 

“Answer it, we can’t have anyone worrying for you.” There was something in Agatha’s tone that you couldn’t decipher but you couldn’t go against what she told you to do. You put your phone to your ear, hitting the answer button. Darcy’s panicked ramblings flooded out, barely giving you time to answer any of her questions. 

“Did you see the news? Y/N, this is crazy. Do you think she escaped? Oh god with our luck she was behind it all! Where are you right now? Do you need company? Girl I can be over to your place so fast-”

You were quickly distracted from your best friend as you felt Agatha’s hands tighten on your thighs, pulling your pants and underwear down with her teeth. She only took a second to take in the sight in front of her, your glistening folds, wet from the pleasure she gave you. Then she dove straight in. You could barely contain your surprised squeal, slapping your free hand over your mouth. 

She was relentless, fingers parting your folds as her mouth covered your entire core, tongue going straight to your clit. It was like she was doing everything to get you to fall apart before her and you were oh so close.

"...Y/N, are you ok?"

It was like Darcy was speaking to you underwater, your focus purely on how your wife's head moved between your legs. Swallowing back a moan as Agatha's tongue flattened and lapped harshly at your folds, you gave your friend an answer.

"Yeah...I'm, I'm just shaken. Can I call you la-later?"

You could practically feel Darcy's hesitation through the phone but the second she agreed you hit the hang up button. Throwing your phone onto the floor somewhere, your hands tangled in Agatha's hair, encouraging her. You felt her smirking before she removed a hand from your thigh to slip two fingers into you, almost immediately finding that electric spot within you. Paired with her lips and tongue staying firmly suctioned onto your clit, you felt your orgasm crash into you and over you. Your mind and body felt seperated as you caught your breath, Agatha peeling herself away from you, coming up to kiss your forehead. She nuzzled you with her nose for a moment, the soft action sending you into a light sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The weeks that followed Agatha's return were nothing less than stressful. Constantly looking over your shoulder as you walked into your home, unplugging every and any device that could connect to internet, and ordering food but having them deliver to your neighbor finally made you snap one day at the lab.

You knew how to do it, you knew how to collect evidence, how to manipulate it wasn't exactly hard.

The issue was Darcy.

While she was a great friend, constantly checking in on you, making sure you were okay with your supposed serial killer ex-wife being on the run, she was the greatest obstacle in your goal.

One night, while the two of you had dinner, you mentioned this to Agatha, angry at yourself for being untruthfull to your friend.

"Well, I could always," Agatha made a gesture with her knife jokingly, smirking to herself as she cut into the steak. It was like all the air left the room, the reminder of what your wife was hitting you like a truck. At your silence, Agatha looked up, her eyes widening at your expression. With a shaking hand, you pointed at your wife and shook your head.

"No, no, you don't-" your voice broke as everything swirled around in your mind, "You don't joke about that. Definitely not about Darcy."

Agatha opened her mouth to respond but you found yourself not wanting to hear her voice. Some petty, evil, part of you called from the dark part of your mind to call the police. Turn Agatha in once more and remove the weight from your shoulders.

You ignored that thought, instead pushing your chair away from the table before Agatha could speak and walking to the bedroom, calling over your shoulder.

"I'm going to bed, I need to think."

You got into your pajamas, going through your nightly routine with a lump in your throat, like your flight or fight was being triggered. It took a while for you to notice that Agatha had yet to come to bed, the time well into the night. Making your way into the living room, you took some steadying breaths. While your reaction was valid, maybe you should've stayed to listen to what she had to say. When you crossed the threshold into the living room, you saw that Agatha had gotten some spare blankets out of a closest, making bed on the couch. She too was awake and smiled at you hesitantly when she noticed you standing in the walkway.

"I didn't know if you would appreciate my company tonight." Her voice was soft, almost as if she was trying to be careful. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

"I always appreciate your company, I didn't appreciate the comment you made."

Agatha nodded, slowly getting up from the couch to come stand in front of you, holding her hands up as if she wanted to hold you.

"It's too early for jokes, I understand."

At a peculiarly pointed glare, Agatha quickly added on,

"And Darcy is off limits, of course. I would never, I mean- she's safe, totally safe."

Some part of you wanted to laugh at your flustered serial killer wife but you simply held out a hand, pulling her back to your bedroom, your plan and anxiety of tomorrow swirling in your head.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd never been more grateful for a robbery before. Since you specialized in murder or special victim cases, you were able to stay behind in the lab while Darcy and Jimmy went to case the gas station and talk to the poor teen who was at the register. You reviewed the two key pieces of evidence that were used to hammer the final nail in Agatha's coffin. A strand of hair and the blood profile. Anything else was circumstancial or based on a loose psychological profile.

The hair was easy enough to make doubtful as it wasn't a reliable source by itself. The follicle of the strand wasn't even attatched, meaning the only use this had was to be compared with a strand of Agatha's hair taken during the trial process.

One click and the hair was digitally gone.

The blood, however, was the tricky part. It was a 94% match to your wife, meaning it could either be her or a relative. You felt your stomach drop when you realized this could be the evidence that ruins everythings.

Until you noticed something.

In your report, in the other forensic report, and in the court transcript, it said the other blood profile was heavily mixed into the victims. You did a cross reference between Agatha's supposed blood and the victims, the result showing that one couldn't be distinguished from the other. Agatha's blood was triggered as the closest possible match of the two blood profiles, even though realistically the computer should've said the evidence was inconclusive.

An excuse formed in your head.

You, and your team, were so focused on catching the serial killer that had been terrorizing the town, you had overlooked key inconsistencies, instead focusing on the one true suspect you'd had on the case.

One click. The blood was deemed inconclusive.

One click, the case was reopened.

One click, all evidence of Agatha being guilty was erased.

One click, no one would know it was you who had manipulated the system.

One click.

Agatha was officially innocent.

a/n: was this ok? lie to me and say yes, wait no don't do that I'll get happy then remember you're lying and then ill be sad. on another note, r is officially a criminal whoo. i do have something planned for this series but can y'all tell me if you genuinely like this series? many thanks 🙏

[praizeice]

Peak shi.

[shakirachyanne]

Song: way down we go- kaleo

Show: Good Omens

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: The war was over. Or at least that’s what the papers said. They’d been saying it, for months, as if people needed reminding. Maybe they did. *** In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.

Author: @xiaq

[justhewayouare7]

[nebulablakemurphy]

Way Down We Go (Part 1)

Daryl x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Daryl follow a dead end that leads them to wash up on the shores of France. While their daughter takes an impromptu trip to the big city, in hopes of saving her childhood friend.

Word comes in the evening, Maggie was raided. They took all the grain, supplies and Hershel.

“What do you mean they took him?” Carol says, keeping her voice down, so that her granddaughter doesn’t catch wind.

“Exactly what I said, Carol. They scaled our walls and took my son.” Maggie hisses, through gritted teeth. She hasn’t slept in days, hardly in the mood for small talk. Dog comes trotting down the stairs to say hello. “Where’s Y/N?” That’s why she’s here.

“She and Daryl had a lead, wasn’t supposed to be this long of a run but…”

“How long’ve they been gone?”

“Two weeks,” Carol admits, “going on three.”

Maggie nods, “you’re here with Sophie?”

“Sophie’s here with Sophie.” The girl in question, waltzes into the room. Scaring the living shit out of both the older women. “I’m eighteen now, no more babysitters.”

“What about Dog?” Carol arches a brow. “If we’re going on a recon mission, we need a dog sitter.”

“What kind of recon mission?” Sophie wonders. Is it my parents?

“Hershel was taken,” Maggie informs her. “I have a map, I’m gonna follow it. Stop for backup along the way.”

“I’m in.” Sophie waves a hand. “Let me run Dog over to Judith and grab my guns.”

Carol presses her lips together to conceal her grin. Her granddaughter is a piece of work, but she couldn’t be more proud.

————————————————————————

“I’m pregnant.”

Two little words changed Daryl’s life forever.

“Ya sure?” That’s all he can think to say at a time like this.

“Yeah.”

“We keepin’ it?”

“Would that be ok?” Y/N asks, wringing her hands.

“I’ll be here.” Daryl nods.

He wasn’t the type of person to fantasize about meeting someone, getting married or having kids; white picket fence didn’t seem like the life for him. He never believed in love, not really. The only kind he’d seen was violent, loud; a screaming match, a lash from a belt. Then suddenly love was real, and he was in it. With a girl who might’ve been more afraid to admit it than he was.

Y/N grew up watching her father beat the ever loving shit out of her mom, for the smallest of things. Sometimes, the things he was angry about had nothing to do with her. But Ed always found a way to justify it. Carol had Y/N fresh out of high school, she didn’t really have a choice but to stay with him. At least that’s what she thought back then. One daughter turned into two and she was stuck.

In a lot of ways, the whole apocalypse thing saved Carol. Saved her from who she was and who she was going to be if she didn’t get out.

“They say if you grow up with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house.” Y/N tells Daryl one night, out of the blue.

Daryl grunts, around a mouthful of food. “Let me know when ya find ‘em, I’ll kill ‘em.”

And that was it. Y/N let him in. Let him close. Daryl let her know him in a way no one else did, or ever would. She traced his scars, with careful fingertips. But her scars were harder to navigate, no telling when Daryl might skid across one he couldn’t see, buried deep beneath the surface of her heart.

Eventually he learned what was safe and what was off limits. The subjects she would broach with gritted teeth and tears in her eyes. Love scared her, terrified her even; but it was real and she was in it.

The second that little girl was in their arms, the world shifted. Anything and everything revolved around her.

“Daryl?” Y/N whispers, as not to wake him if he’s sleeping. It’s her watch and technically nothing has happened.

“Hmm?” His chest rumbles beneath her head.

“I think we need to keep moving.” She leans up slightly to stare down at him, on his back with one arm tucked under his head, in their makeshift bed.

“Sum’ happen?” He blinks at her.

“No, but something feels off.”

“Ya mean how they never got a straight answer ta nothin’, an’ more interested in where we came from than where we’re goin’?” He says, tapping restless fingers against her lower back.

“Yeah.” Y/N breathes, keeping their conversation private.

Daryl nods his agreement, “a’ight. We’ll head out in the mornin’.”

There’s rustling outside their sleeping quarters. A tarp strung up between two trees with a tore up sleeping bag underneath. The crunching of leaves, snap of a twig beneath the sole of a shoe. They’re not alone.

————————————————————————

Now this ‘backup’ they’re stopping for, is on a wanted poster. He looks the same as he did seven years ago, when he left. Negan.

“This is the backup?” Sophie scoffs, grabbing at the paper. “Wanted by the New Babylon Marshals, for murder… Must be a change of pace for him.”

“What do you mean?” Maggie asks, her eyes still trained on the road, as she presses down harder on the gas.

“Being wanted,” Sophie quips.

Carol lets out an involuntary chuckle.

Maggie does not seem as amused.

“What makes you think he can help anyway?”

“The men who took Hershel…they whistled. Just like he used to. Scaled our walls, stole from our rations, just like Negan. They know ‘em.” Maggie is sure of it.

Finding Negan is easier said than done. But eventually they track him down in some shady motel, behind a dive bar. Money isn’t worth much these days, but still, there are things that people want.

Negan runs, that’s what he’s good at. He’s got a girl with him, probably around Hershel’s age. They run them down on the side of the road. Maggie jumps out, holding a knife to his throat.

“Thought you were better on your feet.” Maggie remarks.

Negan only smiles, “good to see you too.”

“We need your help.” Sophie jumps out of the cab, wasting no time on whatever this is.

“Well I’ll be damned. Is that little Sophie?” Negan squints in her direction.

“Don’t call her that.” Carol brushes off her pants, “she’ll bite your head off.”

“Where’s the folks?” Negan asks.

“Out.” Sophie snaps.

“When the cat’s away, the mice will play. Huh?”

Part 2

[animepunk23]

Way Down We Go by xiaq

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591952/chapters/55319218#workskin

"In no universe does the saviour of the wizarding world fall in love with a Death Eater."

Let me tell you about all the universes I've read into sir! ❤️

[p-taryn-dactyl]

would anyone be interested in me continuing the way down we go series?

edit: if yes, can yall send in some ideas or something you would want to see in the series?? i have a plan but also👀

[cherys-tones]

Reading Way Down We Go by xiaq and listening to 1989 (TV) whilst staying hydrated is my ideal plan for the weekend. This is probably my only chance to devour as much fanfiction as I want and can and I would not waste this opportunity.

[ringringkittycat]

We get what we deserve

[nebulablakemurphy]

Way Down We Go (Part 2)

Summary: Y/N and Daryl follow a dead end that leads them to wash up on the shores of France. While their daughter takes an impromptu trip to the big city, in hopes of saving her childhood friend. Warning: cannon typical violence and Dead City/Walking Dead/Daryl Dixon spoilers.

Part 1

“Where ya rushin’ off to?” Bryan smirks, his knife held at Y/N’s throat.

He seemed like an alright guy when they first started traveling with his group. Not so much now.

“We don’t want no trouble. Just lookin’ for our friends.” Daryl says, calmly. His crossbow is aimed, poised and ready, he might make the shot. But he won’t risk it, not with her standing right there.

“I thought we were friends, pretty.” He cooes, into Y/N’s ear.

Friends don’t creep around each other’s tents in the middle of the night to spy on them. “We appreciate your hospitality, but we really need to keep moving.” Y/N tells him.

“No.” The man shakes his head. “Take off your shoes. Stay a while.”

Daryl keeps his eyes trained on his mark. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s a real shame it had to end this way.” The other man clicks his tongue. “I really did like ya.”

“Please, just let us go.” Y/N pleads.

“Tell your boyfriend to drop his bow.” The man demands. “Then we’ll talk about this. I’m sure you can be very persuasive.”

Y/N huffs, “he’s not my boyfriend.” Stomping down on his foot as her elbow lands in his gut. Knocking the wind from him.

Bryan loses his balance and the knife comes down, slicing her leg in the process.

“Get ta tha boat.” Daryl says, holding Bryan at the point of his arrow.

They need to be out of here before his real friends show up.

“Bon Voyage, asshole.” Y/N growls, pulling herself upright.

————————————————————————

They leave the girl, Ginny, back at Hilltop. She’ll be safe there. She doesn’t speak, not since her father was killed, Negan took her in.

Then Maggie, Carol, Negan and Sophie high tail it up towards Manhattan. Stealing a guy’s boat and taking him hostage to sail it. Turns out, he’s one of those Marshals, looking for Negan. Together they broach the entrance of the dead city.

“Never thought I’d get this close to seeing Lady Liberty in the flesh.” Negan huffs, staring out at the ruins.

“Not from ‘round here?” The girl, trailing behind him, inquires. Not that she really cares, but there’s not enough history between them for her to hate him the way Maggie does. And the silence is deafening.

“Virginia, born and raised. You?”

“I was born in a prison.” Sophie raises a shoulder, her Y/H/C hair shifting in it’s ponytail.

“Ain’t that some shit, kid.” Negan remarks.

“It was hardly a prison by then, try compound.” Carol interjects.

“It was a prison, Grandma.” Her parents used to tell her stories about it. How she was named after her mother’s little sister, who didn’t live long enough to see it. Sophie was the second baby born there, almost a year after Judith. They’re both grown now. Adults by all accounts of the old world. Still, when she wants to do anything even remotely dangerous, Carol follows…or her mom…or her dad. “But tomato, tomoto I guess.”

Y/N and Daryl are…different. As parents, they were fair, never came down too hard on her. Her father is an outdoor cat who learned to survive indoors. Her mother is the opposite.

They met at the first camp Rick’s group ever had and the rest is history. To this day they grumble when people ask what they are to each other, or assume that they are together, or worse; married.

They are Y/N and Daryl. That’s all.

Growing up, Sophie always thought they were in love. At least in the way she perceived love to be. Her father would come home after a long day and cling to her mother like it was the first and last time he’d see her for years. Sometimes her mother would cling. But it was rare and often meant that something was wrong.

He let Y/N drive his bike on occasion, hollering all the while, “watch where ya goin’, girl!”

Otherwise her father is a quiet man, her mother is more outspoken. And though Daryl Dixon is more than capable, Y/N Peletier never hesitates to put anyone who messes with him in their place.

They each lost two siblings to this world. One by blood, another forged in the fires of the apocalypse. Merle and Sophia both turned, a pain Y/N and Daryl both understood.

When Y/N lost Glenn, there was something to bury. A way to lay him to rest, with the promise of caring for the family he left behind. Daryl still blames himself for it, even though Y/N never did.

When Daryl lost Rick there was nothing left. No body, no closure…he spent weeks, months, years looking for him. Trying to get back a piece of what he lost. Daryl blames himself for that too.

Leaving their only child behind was not a decision they made lightly. But Sophie is old enough to make her own choices and she’s never been a risk taker. Staying in a place that’s familiar, versus abandoning it for the great unknown was a no brainer.

Which only adds to the irony of her current situation. Sophie and Carol on a mission with Maggie and Negan himself, to rescue Hershel from some guy called the Croat.

Sophie knows that without Hershel, Maggie will lose herself and her mother will lose them both. Severing the final tie between Y/N and Glenn that she’s clung to for all this time.

She would start chasing ghosts too.

————————————————————————

Aaron told Daryl a long time ago, that he could tell a good person from a bad one. Daryl doesn’t know if that’s true anymore, but this last group was not good people.

“I ain’t yer boyfriend, huh?” Daryl attempts to distract Y/N as he tends her wound.

“Boyfriends and girlfriends break up,” she bites out.

“Could marry me.”

“Daryl…” Y/N balls her hands into fists. Fighting the urge to push him away, as he applies pressure to her thigh, to stop the bleeding.

“Damnit, girl, stop movin’.” Daryl growls.

“Fuck,” she shakes her head. “We’re fucked.” There goes any chance of getting home.

“Why don’t ya say it a little louder, maybe it’ll help.” He lets up slightly when her hand rests over his.

Her lips pressed together to contain the sound of her suffering.

“Lemme see.”

Y/N removes her hand and his. The muscles of her afflicted leg spasming of their own accord. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Yer gonna live.” Daryl murmurs, prodding around the gash. “Needs stitches though.”

Thunder cracks down, booming behind dark clouds in the overcast sky.

Y/N can’t help but laugh as the first drops of rain hit her upturned cheek. There’s a storm brewing and they’re stuck bobbing in the middle of nowhere.

“Now we’re fucked.” Daryl grumbles, under his breath.

“Did you mean it?” Y/N wonders. “What you said?”

“Ya want me ta beg?” This isn’t the first time he’s asked her to marry him.

“No,” she decides.

“No?” He rears back. She always reasons her way around it, that’s never bothered him. There was some understanding that they’d spend the rest of their lives together.

“No, to the begging,” Y/N clarifies, “yes, to…the other thing.”

Daryl huffs a laugh, “took ya long enough.”

“Shut up,” Y/N scoffs.

Twenty years well spent.

————————————————————————

Bang!

The sound is odd, too loud to be a gunshot, too quiet to be an explosion.

“Tha hell?”

A walker, then another. Hitting empty cars that litter the streets beside them.

“This way!” Maggie calls as they run for cover.

“Walkers are falling from the sky now?” Negan roars, in disbelief.

“The high rise buildings…they must’ve heard us and walked right off the edge.” Carol reason, following the others to safety.

There’s more walkers, piling up at the glass doors behind them. They need to move. There’s an opening with a scaffolding, just across the way. They’ll have to make a run for it.

“We should go now,” Sophie insists. “Clear the bottom floor, can’t just stand here with our asses hangin’ out.”

Part 3