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aemonds-fire · 9 months

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The Tempest

Summary: Prince Aemond discovers his maid is frightened of storms.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 3038

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, profanity, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex and fingering.

Author's Note: This is not just my first Aemond fic, this is my first EVER fic. I am not a writer and this is my debut. Please be kind. I cannot thank @arcielee enough for beta reading and making suggestions.

Valyrian translation: sȳz riña - good girl

Hope you enjoy this! Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

Part two

You are happy to be Prince Aemond’s maid. In your sixth year of working in the Red Keep you have worked your way up from cleaning the common areas to becoming a maid for the royal family.

When you first learned that you would be assigned to Prince Aemond’s chambers you were uncertain how to feel. At first you were nervous, even a little scared, as you heard the gossip amongst the other servants. On one hand, you were glad you were not assigned to serve Prince Aegon; stories were plentiful regarding his drunkenness and lecherous behavior towards other maids.

But Prince Aemond was much more of a mystery to you. While you had rarely seen the tall and imposing prince, whispers about him said he was best avoided. The prince, who had been disfigured as a child, had grown to be an intimidating warrior. Everyone knew he spent hours training daily with the sword and shield, and that he rode Vhagar, the oldest and largest dragon in the world; the gossip in the servants quarters said he wore the eyepatch so as not to frighten the noble ladies.

Thankfully, he was not in his chambers most of the time while you were working. The first few times you had direct contact with the prince, you were shaking and were afraid to look at him, keeping your eyes downcast to the floor. Over the months you have served him you have become more relaxed in his presence, mainly because he ignores you for the most part. On the infrequent occasions you’ve had to interact with him you have found him to be distant, but polite and soft spoken. His demands are few and he has never made you feel unsafe in his presence.

Just like this evening, the prince is sitting in a chair facing a large, open window in his chambers. Dressed in a loose white shirt and loose fitting trousers, you notice that he seems to be feeling the summer heat just like everyone else in the Red Keep. He only said a quiet greeting when he returned to his chambers earlier than usual. After changing into cooler, more comfortable clothes, he simply poured himself a glass of wine and sat before the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead as you finish your evening tasks, you realize it is very dark out for this early in the evening. You glance out the window and notice the darkened clouds almost upon the capital. You watch a strong gust of wind enter the chambers through the window, moving the heavy drapes, and you can see some of the prince’s pale hair moving with the breeze.

You complete the final check of his chambers to make sure everything is in order for the night. Once you are satisfied, you make your way towards the prince, who is now standing near the window.

“Is there anything else you require this evening, your grace?” you ask softly.

Just as Prince Aemond is about to reply, a bright flash of lightning streaks through the dark sky. You jump, slightly startled, and a few seconds later you wince as a loud rumble of thunder makes you shudder.

Prince Aemond turns to you with a slightly amused look on his face. “Does the storm frighten my pretty maid?” He asks with the hint of a smile.

“Apologies, your grace,” you say with embarrassment, also taken aback by the prince calling you pretty. “Yes, ever since I was a little girl, I have never liked storms. Especially at night. I cannot sleep during a storm.” you reply sheepishly.

“The storm cannot hurt you, especially within the safety of the Red Keep,” Aemond tells you. “Come and watch the storm here at the window.” Aemond raises his arm to you, beckoning you to come closer to him.

You are more than surprised by the prince’s behavior. He has hardly ever spoken to you before, except when necessary regarding your duties. You cannot help but notice his regal features. His white blond Targaryen hair is long and straight. You find his angular face quite attractive with his straight nose, sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. You do not believe that even the scar and eyepatch detract from his beauty.

Forcing your mind to quiet your thoughts regarding him, you tell the prince, “I should probably return to my quarters. I won’t be able to see the storm there and I do not wish to trouble you with my silly fears.”

“You are just as safe here with me as you would be in your quarters. Do you think I would let you be harmed, hmm?” asks Aemond. “Now come,” he repeats.

Hesitantly, you walk over to stand next to Aemond in front of the window. You immediately feel a strong breeze blow in and you can smell the rain in the air. Another flash of lightning startles you, causing you to gasp and move closer to Aemond. You can hear the first raindrops falling now and soon a downpour begins, as the thunder rumbles again.

Aemond chuckles softly at your fear. He leans closer to you and says, “I’ll tell you a secret. I was afraid of storms too when I was a young boy. Now I love them.”

You find it difficult to imagine the lithe and muscular warrior prince was ever afraid of anything. You look up at him and ask, “How did you overcome your fear?”

Aemond smiled, “One day when I was riding Vhagar, a squall rolled in much faster than I anticipated. I was careless. I should have returned sooner. I had to fly Vhagar through the storm to come home. At first I was worried, when the rain started beating down on me, the wind tearing at me and flashes of lightning in the sky. Then I realized that Vhagar was powerful enough to ride through it. Not even a storm could match the power of the largest dragon in the world. I felt invincible. That day I discovered there is no greater thrill than riding a dragon through a storm.”

You feel Aemond’s arm go around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You tremble slightly, but you are not sure if it is from the storm or Aemond’s touch. You have always thought the prince handsome and not disfigured, as some called him. But he is royalty and you are nothing but a maid.

“Tell me, have you been with a man before?” Aemond questions you suddenly.

You are stunned by his question and it sends your mind racing. You are not completely innocent about the intimate acts between a man and woman, but your experience is limited. Besides, you know this is something that you should not do. You could lose your position for a dalliance with the prince, but you also know that you would regret refusing him for the rest of your life.

“Yes, your grace. I have,” you answer in a shaky voice as anticipation begins to build within you.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his lips against your skin. Despite the warmth of his body pressing against you from behind, you shiver as you feel the wind begin to blow rain in through the window. The next streak of lightning across the sky causes your body to shudder as now your senses are being overwhelmed by the closeness of the prince and your fear of the storm.

Aemond feels your body tremble as he pulls you in front of him. “ My pretty maid, watch the storm, feel the wind and the rain. If you wish I can show you that storms are not to be feared, but enjoyed,” he says as he leans his face closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

The rain is coming down in torrents. Wind is gusting and blowing raindrops on them. Another burst of lightning illuminates the sky, followed seconds later by a boom of thunder.

He is behind you, keeping you in place. You can feel his hard lean body against your back. You feel the hardness of his cock against your backside. The ache of desire begins to build inside you, causing your cheeks to flush.

“Do you want me to continue distracting you from your fear of the storm, pretty one?” he hums, his lips now kissing your skin, nipping and sucking. His arms wrap around you, both hands now moving up to gently squeeze your breasts through your dress. Sighing, you feel your nipples harden. You lean back against his body with a soft moan.

Aemond softly bites your neck, making you gasp. You can feel warm wetness beginning to pool between your thighs. You are no virgin, but you have not been with a man in quite some time; only a short dalliance with a steward that you thought you loved once.

“Answer your prince, pretty one. You must tell me if you wish me to continue. I do not take what is not given freely.”

As the tempest continues to rage outside in the darkness, you whine, “Please don’t stop, my prince.”

That is all Aemond needs to hear. You hear a low growl come from the prince’s throat and then he whispers, “Sȳz riña.” in you ear in High Valyrian. You do not know what that means, but the sound of him speaking in his other language sends shivers up your spine.

He quickly removes your apron and tosses it aside, his hands untying the laces on the back of your servant's dress. He tugs the dress off your shoulders, keeps pushing the garment down past your breasts and your hips, until it falls around your feet. Your thin chemise quickly begins to get wet from the rain blowing in and Aemond gathers the light material, bunching it in his fists to give him access to your small clothes. The feeling of his fingers sends arousal through your body. You shimmy your legs to help the fabric slide down, kicking off your worn slippers in the process.

The front of your chemise is becoming soaked with rain. The chill of the wind and rain causes your nipples to pebble even more, poking through the practically sheer garment. He glides his large hands over your belly and higher to your breasts, cupping them, rolling your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He continues to kiss and nip at your neck and shoulder, licking the raindrops off your skin.

One of your hands clings tightly to his arm while the other reaches around to hold onto his thigh as you brace yourself against his body.

You try to turn your head towards him, your lips seeking his skin.

“No, keep watching the storm,” he tells you.

Aemond slides a hand down over your belly, down to the place between your legs. Your legs instinctively part slightly to allow him access to your most intimate parts. You feel his fingertips part your folds, feeling the wetness that has begun to seep out of you.

“Hmmm, already getting wet, sȳz riña?" he growls in your ear. His finger finds that most sensitive nub and begins to circle around it, sending tendrils of pleasure through you. He continues to play with your breast, teasing your nipple, as he drags a finger though your wet cunt and pushes it into you as a crash of thunder roars in the sky.

You begin to pant as he works a finger in and out of your cunt. Aemond grinds himself against you and you can feel the hardness of his cock against your backside. Your body is now trembling with need. You gasp as he adds a second finger and rubs the palm of his hand over your sensitive nub over and over again.

“Do you like this? Does it feel good, pretty one?” Aemond asks in your ear. He sucks on your earlobe while he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your went cunt.

You can only whimper in response, biting your lip to keep from crying out. Your hips move to grind yourself against his hand, feeling his hard cock behind you.

Aemond moans against your neck, “So wet and tight around my fingers, sȳz riña. That’s it, cum all over my fingers. I can’t wait to make you come again around my cock.”

The coarseness of his language and desire to have him inside you sends pure lust through your body and that is enough to make you moan in ecstasy, your walls clench and flutter around his fingers. You are somewhat dismayed and embarrassed at how quickly he is able to unravel you to the point of being completely spent, with your legs shaking and trying to catch your breath. Aemond releases his grip on your breast and pulls you into his firm embrace, while sucking gently on your neck.

As the storm continues to pound the capital, Aemond pulls off the loose white shirt he wore and you feel him loosening the ties to his trousers. He turns you around to face him and brings you with him as he backs up to a nearby chair. Aemond sits and pulls you down to straddle his lap, pulling you into a desperate kiss, pushing his tongue past your lips.

“I will be your dragon through this storm. Ride me.” he says hungrily. A flash of lightning illuminates his face and you see the desire in his eye. Aemond grabs your soaking wet chemise and pulls it up and off of you, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

He reaches down, lifts his hips to lower his trousers to free his cock, painfully hard and with a reddish tip leaking fluid. He grabs your ass lifting you enough to line his cock to your cunt. You move your hips to coat his cock with your wetness. When you feel his cock at your entrance and you begin to sink down on him, slowly taking his throbbing length inside you. Aemond groans with pleasure into your breast, his tongue lapping at your nipple.

You whimper as you feel the stretch of his engorged cock filling you as you brace yourself by grasping his shoulders. You pause for a moment to let your body adjust to his size. Slowly, you begin to move your hips back and forth feeling the rough palms of his large hands gripping your hips. You cry out softly when he thrusts up into you.

Aemond’s hands encourage you to work your hips against his. You ride him, bouncing your ass against his thighs, each movement sending bolts of intense pleasure through you. He grunts softly with each slam of your hips, fingers biting into your soft flesh.

“So tight,” he groans, licking the beads of moisture from your skin. “You’re taking my cock so well.”

Your fingers are digging into the pale skin of his shoulders. Panting rapidly, your thighs and his hands are working together pushing you up and down, up and down, each roll of your hips forcing the tip of his cock against that sensitive spot inside you. The sounds of skin hitting skin fill your ears; it's depraved and desperate, and you've never felt such intense pleasure.

As each new thrust reaches deep inside you, mewling whimpers escape your mouth between ragged breaths.

He watches you, entranced by the sight of your bouncing breasts. A hand slides from your ass to move between your legs, his thumb finding your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing more pleasure from you. He lowers his gaze to watch his cock moving in and out of you, glistening with your wetness.

Aemond plants his feet on the floor, leveraging himself to buck his hips up against you. He pulls his head back to watch your face, flushed with pleasure. His one eye is darkened with lust and his skin glistening with rain and sweat.

“Say my name, pretty one. Who is your dragon,” he orders, voice raspy with arousal.

“Aemond… Aem…feels… so…” you whimper, your thighs are burning from the exertion, and he moves his hands to grip your ass, taking control and giving you a welcome relief. His pace is intense, almost brutal as he thrusts up into you repeatedly. He lets out a curse as your cunt clenches around him, drenching his cock in a gush of wetness.

“Fuck,” he curses, grunting with every thrust.

You lean in closer to him, placing hot open mouthed kisses on his cheek, before he leans up to take your lips into another desperate kiss, driving his length up into you with a rapid pace.

“Sȳz riña,” he groans against your lips, nipping at them gently. His thumb furiously massages your bud, pulling you quickly towards an intense peak.

“Yes…Aemond, “ you moan loudly as the first burst of ecstasy spreads through your body. You tremble with a wave of shattering pleasure that you can feel all the way down to your toes. The walls of your cunt spasm around his cock, squeezing him.

He continues to push up into you throughout your release, feeling your body shake against his. The clenching of your cunt starts to push him over the edge, making his thrusts more erratic until you can feel his cock twitching within you. As you feel the warmth of his seed begin spurting deep within you, Aemond buries his face in your neck, grunting and his breath hot against your skin.

You are both panting heavily. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you cling to Aemond as he wraps his arms around you. You rest your head against his, slowly coming down from your blissful state. Realization of what you have done begins to creep into your mind. A gentle kiss to your cheek and a sigh of contentment from Aemond calms you slightly.

“Look out the window, pretty one,” he whispers softly in your ear.

You raise your head and smile as you turn your gaze to the open window and see that the storm has passed, the rain is now just a gentle shower and the wind has faded into a light cooling breeze.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell

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livelaughloveloak · 1 year

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⌗🌬️ TATTOO ᩡ𖧧

⋆ pairing :: Neteyam x Navi! Reader

⋆ summary :: Neteyam spent his days telling his new metkayina friends about the special girl that took his heart back in his old clan. What was the one thing he kept mentioning though? Your tattoo.

⋆ word count :: 1.2k words

⋆ author's note :: this fic was based on the song "girl with the tattoo" by Miguel. Reader uses she/her pronouns. It's pretty short but ugh I loved writing this 🤭

If they only knew

The girl with the tattoo

"Teyam look!" You said while showing the new tribal tattoo swirling up your upper right arm. Neteyam looked in awe at how pretty it turned out to be.

You came from a more spiritual clan but soon moved to the forest, where Neteyam lived after the sky people destroyed your home.

You didn't know much about your clan because you moved when you were still young but one thing you did know and wished to do was to get a tattoo once you turned 15. Amongst your clan the woman would get this as a sign of them entering adulthood just like a coming of age ceremony.

"My girl, you look so pretty " Neteyam cupped your cheek, earning a grin from you. It was night and the people of the Omatikaya clan were still feasting at the bonfire.

You and Neteyam decided to leave early and ride your ikrans to a secluded mountain where you guys would spend your free time, or as some liked to call it, a “date”

Your bioluminescence freckles glowed in the dark, as well as Neteyam's.

He pulled you into a hug, inhaling the cool night air, enjoying his time with his beloved.

"Even under the night sky she always seemed to shine brighter." Neteyam reminisces on his days back in the forest where he had you always by his side.

"Forest boy is in love." Aonung gagged seeing how lovestruck Neteyam was, making Lo'ak and rotxo laugh.

"Be quiet Aonung! I think it's cute." Tsireya tried to defend Neteyam but got drowned in by louder laughter coming from the boys once again.

She rolled her eyes and put her attention back to Neteyam. "She seems sweet, Neteyam."

Neteyam nodded agreeing with the Metkayina girl. You were the kindest person he had ever met.

You always did your own thing, not following anyone's expectations or caring if anyone was staring. Some older Navi would tell him that you were way too “independent” for a girl as most Navi women follow their parents' rules until they get a mate, which then they would follow their mate's rules. But that's why he loved you, he would always tease you and call you ‘miss independent’

With your unbeatable beauty and sweet fruity scent, your glowing and silky skin, as beautiful as the jewelry you wore which were gifts made by him. Your golden like eyes which glowed as bright as a star. You enchanted everyone you met, but Neteyam always thought you hit him the hardest.

Aonung stopped laughing and leaned forward from the tree trunk. “So where is she?"

"Huh?"

"You know, your beloved tattoo girl, did she not come with you guys?" Aonung asked nonchalantly as Tsireya leaned closer, also curious.

Neteyam's mouth shut, forming into a straight line, thinking about what to say.

Lo'ak and Kiri looked at their brother in a sympathetic way, as Tuk sat beside him, leaning on Neteyam's side, listening into the conversation.

Yeah, I see you baby

Just don't lose yourself along the way

"Neteyam I am coming with you." You walked behind you, demanding that he brought you with him and his family. Neteyam was walking around his tent, packing his stuff up as they would depart soon after the ceremony.

Neteyam huffed and looked behind him, where you stood. "No, you stay here and be the clan's Tsahik, without your talent the people will have no one when my grandmother passes."

You furrowed your brows, of course you knew that you had to give up the role as future Tsahik, but what good would a broken hearted Tsahik be? If she couldn't heal her own heart, how will she heal others?

Neteyam was gonna be your mate as soon as you two turned 18. He was next in line for the role of Olo'eyktan.

"I'm coming with you and that's final." You turned around and started walking out of the tent, heading towards yours so you could pack your own stuff. Before you could even exit Neteyam grabbed your hand.

He took a hold of them, holding your hands in his own. "Please, I can't have the sky people hunting you down too."

You looked down, staying silent. It was true and you couldn't deny it, the clan was bound to get attacked at least once more. The current Tsahik, Neteyam's grandmother, also known as Mo'at would not be able to heal everyone even if there were other healers in the clan.

Mo'at taught you more advanced stuff as you were more skilled, which is why she had picked you as the next Tsahik.

You hissed in frustration and yanked your hand back from him.

"I will come with you, maybe not at the same time but I will be there. Of course there's consequences but I'm willing to take them."

And with that you ran out as fast as you can, leaving Neteyam in the dust.

Cause you're doing what you're doing

Just to get to where you're going

"If we took her she'd be in danger too." Lo'ak spoke up for Neteyam after seeing how quiet his brother had gotten. The others nodded understanding the reasoning behind it, as they didn't want to push into the conversation even further.

Kiri sighed and patted Neteyam's shoulders as an attempt to comfort him.

"Do not worry too much brother, you too will reunite someday."

As night fell in the reef, the group parted, walking in opposite directions towards their own shared Marui. The Sully siblings had a quiet walk back to their Family's home. The most noise they had was Tuk yelling at them to slow down so her tiny legs could catch up.

As soon as they entered through the makeshift flap they all went to their hammocks after greeting their parents.

Neteyam laid silently, swaying side to side as his family were conversing with each other about their day.

The uncommon silence from Jake and Neytir's oldest child set an unsettling feeling in them.

Neytiri turned to the other kids looking for some explanation.

With a sigh Lo'ak spoke up when he heard his brother's breathing slowing down signaling that he was finally asleep.

"He was talking about y/n again."

But I knew

The girl with the tattoo

"Teyam!!"

The young warrior looked up from sharpening his fishing spear only to find his youngest sister running towards him with a bright grin on her face. He suddenly noticed the loud noise coming out of a shell, signaling the clan that someone new arrived on shore. Neteyam peered down at Tuk in curiosity. "What is it Tuk?"

"Please Teyam you need to see this."

The young girl grabbed her brother's hand and dragged him towards the crowd of people forming a circle around someone. It reminded him of the first time his family arrived.

Neteyam heard a familiar loud roar. It was an ikran

He hurriedly walked closer to the crowd, pushing some people aside to get a better look.

His eyes traveled to the darker blue skinned female with long braided hair. He noticed the unique clothes she wore that complimented her other features. He noticed how crystals decorated her hair and how a single colorful feature was nearly placed in one strand.

His heart skipped a beat as his eyes landed on the black ink swirling around her upper right arm.

He watched you squint your eyes, scanning through the crowd to get a closer look at people, finally stopping once your eyes landed on him.

"Neteyam?"

Oh how he loved hearing you say his name again.

Oh yeah, I knew

The girl with the tattoo

#atwow #avatar #avatar imagine #imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam imagine #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #avatar the way of water #atwow imagines #neteyam fanfiction #atwow fanfiction #avatar fanfiction

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louloulemons-posts · 7 months

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Wayne’s Hot Cocoa

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Nightmares were the worst, the Munsons made them better.

Word Count : 1.5k

Warnings : not proofread, 1am writing, mainly uncle wayne x reader fluff, angsty, fluffy, happy ending, talks of bad homelife, reader lives with the munsons, bad parents, fem pronouns and phrases used, no use of Y/N

A/N : you are loved 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Nights with Eddie made it easier, that was true. However, the warm hugs from the curly haired boy weren’t always enough to keep the monsters away. The monsters that came in your sleep, those that you knew weren’t real but made your skin crawl, your heart beat faster and you to become damp with sweat.

They weren’t real, but the feeling they created was.

Jumping away slightly, your eyes flicked around the dark room in panic. The soft snores of Eddie giving you a sense of comfort, along with pulling you back to reality.

Under the rays of the street lamps you could see his long lashes kissing his cheeks, hiding where a beauty mark lay under his eye. His curls were in his face slightly, coming on of the hair tie sat at the back of his neck.

His mouth was slightly open, lips plush in a small pout. His face was soft, beautiful, calm with sleep. You were thankful it wasn’t him having these dreams and it was you.

Eddie knew about them, knew they were a hell of a lot better, but also knew that they snuck up on you every now and again. He knew your past, your struggles, your fears and helped as much as he could. You both needed rest, both needed sleep, he couldn’t care for you all the time - as much as he’d love that.

Your throat was dry and scratchy, and Eddie had drank the last of the water in your glass hours before. Slowly moving his arm from your waist, you got up off the bed as quietly as possible.

You didn’t really need to, once Eddie was asleep he was dead to the world, normally kicking you off the bed in the process. Taking the glass from the side table, you went on your way.

Soft footsteps as you padded through the small trailer, not knowing the time. The sky whispering that it was still late, stars glimmering in the distance.

The tap was loud, but wasn’t everything louder when you were trying to be quiet. Taking slow sips, you tried to steady your heart, make your hands stop shaking. It wasn’t real - not anymore anyway.

“Honey?” The deep voice made you jump, not realising that the older Munson man was now stood next to you. “Holy cow I’m sorry,” he said, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s alright, did I wake you?” you asked, praying you hadn’t. Wayne was a hard worker, he needed all the rest he could get. He smiled, “No, I’ve not long come home. Just eaten some dinner.”

There was an empty plate and cutlery in the sink, you hadn’t even noticed them. “What are you doing up? That boy being a bed hog?” Letting out a slight chuckle, you shook your head.

The man sighed, “Bad dream?” You couldn’t even reply, couldn’t meet his eyes. Just a simple nod. “I’ll make us some cocoa, go sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Oh no Wayne you don’t-“

“Don’t argue. I want to.”

Seeing the uncertainty on your face, he squeezed your shoulder once more, saying in his kind tone, “I promise.” Whispering a soft ‘okay’ you went to the sofa.

It smelt of smoke, most soft things in the trailer did. When you started staying more often Wayne told Eddie they’d have to smoke outside.

You didn’t mind of course, you felt guilty taking a place in Wayne’s home. He was a kind man, and he loved you, or so Eddie told you.

He never batted an eye when you’d show up late at night, in an array of states. Wayne was there. Just like Eddie. The Munsons were your lifeline, your family.

You sat with your legs crisscross on the couch, picking at the loose threads at the bottom of your pyjamas. Planet of the Apes was playing on the TV, old and crackly, it was something to focus on.

A steaming mug was placed in front of you, deep blue with ‘Nevada’ written in a funky font, from Wayne’s trucking days. The hot chocolate was topped with cream and marshmallows causing a soft smile to dance on your lips.

“Knew it’d cheer you up,” Wayne said, taking a sip from his own identical drink, but it was in his prized possession - his Garfield mug.

“Thank you.” Taking the warm drink into your hands, it’s helped them to stop shaking. The heat warming your cold fingers.

“Was it the same one?”

“Yes. It wasn’t as bad, but it’s just been a while,” you took a breath, “I just want it to go away.” Wayne hummed, placing his mug on the coffee table in front of you, “In time it will.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, taking a sip of your own drink, the cream making a mess of your nose. “It’s been what? 2 months since the last one?”

“About that.”

“Honey it was happening every day. I’d call that progress. I know you want it to stop and it will, it just takes time.”

Nodding your head, you met the man’s dark eyes, “I know. You and Eddie have helped so much-“

“You don’t need to thank us. We love having you here.”

“I just feel like I’m in the way. I feel like I should just go back.”

“No,” Wayne said, it was a simple statement, “I’d never let you go back there.”

“Wayne-“

“What happened to you was wrong. You didn’t deserve any of it, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to see the signs. But now you’re here and safe, I will not let you get hurt by those people again.”

“But why?”

“Because your family and family doesn’t do that.” You eyes became glassy. The mug went to the table. You were his family. You never really had a proper one of those.

Similarly to Eddie, you’d lost a parent, your dad. Your mom fell into bad habits, fulled by her various partners. Any negative emotion was taken out on you.

“Don’t cry Kid,” Wayne said softly, brushing away a tear. His hands were tough and worn like the hard worker he was, but they were soft and gentle like a parent should be.

“Thank you. I know you told me not to say it, but thank you for being my family. I- I love you Wayne.” His face dropped slightly, his own dark eyes filling with tears, “Oh Honey come here.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest. The smell of his aftershave and cigarettes was a common comfort. A smell you loved.

His stubble brushed your head as his kissed you lightly, “I love you too kid.” You stayed like that for a while, arms wrapped around one another. “You can stay here forever.”

The movie continued to play and you got comfy, both taking drinks of your cocoa. A beautiful silence settled between you. A silence of a father and a daughter, a loving quiet. The enjoyment of one’s company without many words.

That was until a door creaked and heavy steps came towards the pair of you. Looking up you met a pair of sleepy eyes and crazy hair. “Where’d you go?” Eddie asked, his voice rough with sleep, as he plopped himself next to you.

“Just came for a drink,” you spoke, placing the still warm mug in his hand. He hummed, drinking a bit, “Wayne’s famous cocoa.”

You nodded, placing your head on Eddies shoulder, your own hand finding Wayne’s.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asked.

“Just one of those nights.” His eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Sweetheart-“

“Don’t worry Son, she’s okay.”

“Thank you Wayne,” he nodded to his uncle.

“I am okay. I promise, me and Wayne spoke. Think I’m gonna be staying here for a while, if that’s okay with you?” Eddies face broke into a grin, “Of course it’s okay. I love you being here.”

The love you felt was unconditional, it was something that you knew would never leave you. It was beautiful and pure. The kind of love you never expected to find. It was the love you needed. The love you deserved.

Your eyes became heavy, listening to Eddies heart you drifted off.

“Thank you for looking after her,” Eddie spoke. “Of course. Think she needed a parent tonight.”

“You are the best parent you know, we’re lucky to have you.”

“Don’t get all soft on me, now take your girl to bed. She needs some rest.”

Eddie nodded, shifting you gently, arms coming to rest behind your back and under your knees. The journey was a short one, Wayne followed behind him the whole way.

Placed on the bed carefully, you didn’t stir, body clearly exhausted. Eddie brushed the hair away from your face, smiling at you softly, at the peace you were feeling.

Moving round to his side of the bed, Wayne pulled the cover up over you, speaking softly, “Goodnight Honey, night Son.”

“Night Wayne.” The older man pulled the door too, allowing some beams of light to sneak through. It gave you comfort on bad nights, to know you were safe, you weren’t lost in the darkness.

Eddie pulled your back into his chest, holding you close. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he placed a soft kiss behind your ear, “I love you.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : all the love for uncle wayne!!!

Thank you so much for reading!

Please leave any requests 🤍

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lunargrapejuice · 1 year

Text

behind closed curtains

diluc ragnvindr x afab!reader | 2.1k + words

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no pronouns used, masturbation, a tiny bit of voyeurism if you squint, oral (receiving), diluc cumming untouched

it wasn’t unusual for the dark knight hero to pass through this particular part of mondstadt multiple times throughout the night. it was hardly somewhere that monsters could easily get but still he watched over this small apartment building nestled behind a flower shop and a large birch tree.

ruby eyes flash to a window on the second floor, the drawn curtains keeping his beloved from view but it was enough to know that you were safe and comfortable, even if he wished he could be there with you now.

but it was late, the moon having long hung in the sky and cooled the breeze that carried throughout the city, the dreams of those in the land of anemo archon quieting the street. you should be asleep, at least he hoped you would be but he also could not help how the desire to constantly be within your shining radiances, basking in your love and showering you with his own, made his heart strings go taut.

surely it would be fine if he checks on you? a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling the covers back over your shoulder, stealing too many glances at your lovely sleeping visage, fighting the urge to slip into the covers with you, all before he returns to the dark shadows. he had before and you had given him permission to do so, at times waking up slowly to see silver light spilling through the curtains and wondering if the familiar warmth of him that lingered on your skin and the way his voice that easily coaxed you back to sleep was only a dream.

the only thing you could dream of more was a dream where he stayed and you got to wake up in his arms; see the man proclaimed to be ‘hardened’ look so soft and so unbelievably handsome, if not seeming a few years younger, as long lashes rested atop his cheeks and locks of red spread around him like a halo of fire in the yellow morning light.

did you know how badly he wished for the same, how terribly hard it was to tear himself from your side?

his boots were quiet, stealthy so as to not wake the neighbors that lived below you or draw unnecessary attention to himself, as he easily made his way up to the ledge of your window and with skilled fingers slid the glass open without making a sound.

he hadn’t even swung one leg inside your bedroom before he heard a breathless moan of his name from your lips, labored yet blissful and dripping with need. it’s a melody that ignites his chest, spreads warmth across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and has his cock beginning to strain against his pants.

wanting to always respect your privacy, he hesitates to push back the curtains hiding what is surely a sinful sight of you touching yourself to the thought of him. but every moment that passes with his heart picking up speed, not at all helping how hard he’s becoming, he can’t ignore the sounds you make, the soft lewd quelches of your fingers playing with your wet pussy or the whimpers you make that he desperately wanted to hear louder and at the mercy of his touches.

the tap of his boots on your floor and the movement of curtains doesn’t draw your attention and for a moment, all the while diluc swore his entire being was going to catching on fire, he admires your naked body illuminated by moonlight laying atop your sheets, your fingers pumping in and out of your tight hole, your eyes closed and mouth parted from your heavy breaths that bring hungry eyes to your breasts.

it's only when he can’t take it any longer, can’t possibly bear to keep himself from between your legs or resist the need to have the taste of you on his tongue after seeing the slick that coats your fingers and glistens against your folds, that he unclips the cape that normally kept him blended with the dark of night and takes a step towards you.

“fucking archons..” he curses under his breath, your doe eyed look that flickers with happiness at the realization he really was here making him even harder.

“d-diluc! wha - i c-can- i mean -”

he lets out a breathless chuckle at how quickly you close your legs, your embarrassment evident but you had no reason to be embarrassed. never with him and especially not when he was so prideful knowing you were imagining it was his own fingers buried inside of you, thick and reaching deep, something you could not recreate by yourself but archons you looked like such a sweet thing trying.

“apologies my love, i didn’t mean to frighten you.”

his strides are long, his impressive length showing through his pants but as soon as he's close enough he reaches for you smooth leather gloves and the warm hands within them are adding fuel to your already burning skin, pulling your legs apart with tenderness but enough force that you couldn’t fight it, not that you even wanted to try. no, you were more than willing to give diluc all of you.

all you can focus on are the ruby orbs of the man you love, eyes that threaten to engulf you in their flames and never let you go. but you were encased within them long before now and tonight you would sink even deeper into their depths.

“have i made you lonely?” he asks, genuine concern laced in his tone.

it was easy for him to use his strength to protect you, move you from prying eyes and danger, carry your sleeping figure from the couch in his study to his bed or move your body as he wished when tangled in silk sheets and beaded with sweat. not that you resisted him but even when his grip was tight he’s so gentle with the way he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, like you might break if he moves too fast.

he lowers onto his knees before you, the tips of his bangs tickling your inner thigh as he nuzzles his nose against your plush skin, feeling his cock twitch at the way your body reacts to just this little touch.

“n-no! never ‘luc.. n..never with you” your voice shakes in time with your legs and his heart stalls the sweet nickname. he hadn’t quite gotten used to it yet but he wasn’t sure he ever would, not when it was you calling him. “i just..” you bite your bottom lip before turning your gaze from his but still continuing, quiet and shy but oh so adorable. “just wanted you so badly..”

you can feel him smile against your skin, his kisses growing sloppier against your skin but never close to your aching sex. “were your fingers enough to sate your want angel?”

his bold words shock you, even if they did make your stomach flutter with butterflies and your pussy clench around nothing.

they weren’t enough.. you could never reach as deep as he could, could never drive yourself to the kind of bliss that had tears clinging to your lashes like only diluc ever could or had.

“‘luc.. please..” you beg, reaching out for him, to lose your fingers in his thick hair and guide him to your need but he captures them within his own much larger hands and places kisses the tips of each of your fingers instead, much too chastely for how naughty the sight of him on his knees before your bare body was.

“were they?” he asks again, the heat of his breath captured on your hands.

“.. no,” you whimper your answer much to your chagrin but happy to hear your confession, with his own carnal need to gift you that pleasure, he finally lets you touch him in return.

with your fingers tangled in tendrils of red he litters both of your legs with kisses after loving kisses, slow licks and nibbles but never in the place you needed him most. warm saliva cools against your skin the more he showers you with his affection until his lips have tasted nearly every inch of shaking thighs.

even as he moves to dangle your legs over his shoulders he’s still littering them with his love, coming closer and closer to your sticky cunt, teasing and fleeting near your dripping folds until you’re begging and then suddenly, without warning, his burning tongue is running from your eager hole up to your clit and back down again.

your back bows off of the bed and he groans loudly, shamelessly, as he drinks you in, already feeling utterly intoxicated by you; your taste, the way you squirm in his hold at his relentless movements that are somehow too much and not enough, your fingers finding their way deeper into his hair and he’d be sure it wouldn’t be much longer now before you were pulling on the soft strands while you cried his name.

powerful fingers sink into the fat of your thighs to keep them spread with each passing moment that he devours your pretty pussy like he may never get to taste you again. his tongue is hot and consumes your every thought, every nerve in your body as he licks and laps at your folds.

one of his hands leaves your thigh to spread your pussy lips, the leather not as soft as his skin but familiar all the same. he flicks his tongue against your exposed and twitching clit, the way you wither and moan at his ministrations driving him to want to give you more, more, more.

“ah~ d-diluc!” you cry out when he wraps his lips around your clit, feeling how badly and quickly it builds the burning knot behind your stomach that just might burst on him if he kept working you like this.

but he was always one to get lost in the pleasure of your cunt, going down on you like this satisfying him just as much as it did you.

his deep groans join your lovely noises, the taste of you finer and more intoxicating than any wine he could ever create in the cellars of the dawn winery but only he would get to know the pleasure of this, only he would get to be the one to feel your velvety walls clench around his tongue when he buries it deep inside of you, tongue fucking you and feeling his cock throb against the seem of his pants.

you pull him into you, lifting your hips to allow his tongue to reach deeper inside of you or perhaps it was simply because you can’t help it when he’s making you feel this good, he doesn’t know which but your reactions spur him on and he doesn’t relent his tongue for a moment.

the only word you seem to know is his name. you chant it like a mantra and each one rings through his ears and ripples down his body. always call his name.. always be his.. always let him bring you to celestia and back..

a mix of your juices and his saliva drips down your folds and to your ass, so wet he can easily slip two, thick, gloved fingers into your cunt, feeling your walls clench around them the moment he’s knuckles deep and curling them right into the spot that always has you seeing stars as he suckles on your clit.

“‘luc.. ah! i.. i’m gonna.. c- cum ~ ing!”

he groans and curses into your pussy at the first taste of your release, pumping his fingers at the perfect pace for you to ride out your high as long as you can. your fingers tug on his locks hard and it takes the last bit of his own sanity, his rock hard dick pulsing as he releases right into his pants, untouched and god there was so much as he kept leaking more the longer you came undone around him but archons he feels like he could go over and over again if it meant you’d squeeze his length as hard as you are his digits, if he’d get to keep the sweet taste of you melting on his taste buds.

and tonight, as he sheds his clothes, relieving scarred pale skin and tone muscles that you could never seem to get enough of, he comes to stand with your legs on either side of his thin waist and finally kisses you, the lingering taste of your release coating your lips, you think he may do just that.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr smut #genshin impact smut #diluc smut #genshin smut #🌙moonlight.stories

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stitched-mouth-vs-the-world · 7 months

Text

In The Dark Of The Night

Pairing: Valak / The Nun x Fem! Nun! Reader.

Summary: After arriving and joining the Covent you so didn't wish to join, Valak takes a liking to you.

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex (fem receiving), Tongue fucking, Fingering, Intercourse (P in V), Masturbation, Voyeurism, Unprotected sex, Overstimulation. Mention of reader possibly catching an STI from Valak and his ashy lips. Reader smokes weed.

Writing Time: 3 hours.

Word Count: 2251.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 6.

A/N:

Had a ball figuring this shit out. Started writing this at 1am, it's now nearly 4am and I have to be up in 2 hours 😁🔫 Think about that when the reader is crying about not getting enough sleep. I love this fic but I think Valak is very OOC, this is my first time writing him so hopefully I'll get better at it. Valak is referred to as 'The Nun' and with they/them pronouns (until they whip out their dick 😁) since I was semi writing fron the reader's perspective and they have no idea what Valak's name is or what they identify as. But I do write Valak as male, so they are male here it's just doesn't know until near the end.I'm tired so I didn't research Nuns and Covents before writing this, which I probably should of done but who cares since the movies do a poor job of explaining them? I'm sure y'all only came for the smut. I'll fix it when if I feel like it. Valak has ashy lips cause I said so.

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

Something felt off, to say the least. You felt more uneasy in this new unfamiliar place than any other place.

When your father announced you'd be attending this new place, you were furious. Well, furious and heartbroken. He had written you off to become a nun because it was the easiest way to send you away. And all for wait? Because you had recently been having issues with your mental health and he couldn't deal with it? Or did he need you needed Jesus?

Either way, you started hating him on the drive here. And once you stepped foot in this place and felt the almost sicken bad vibes.

The teachers had been just as you expected. Strict, never smiling and so obviously loved having power over others. Others being the new not yet devoted Nuns or freshly devoted Nuns.

You was gonna hate it here.

You had met your new sisters and to be honest, none of them mattered to you. You weren't in any kind of mood to make friends, but you hoped that would change. You didn't want to be alone here.

The only Sister that seemed like friend material was Sister Irene. She had that kind and friendly spirit that you thought all Nuns should have.

But seriously, something wasn't right around here. You couldn't place your finger on it and honestly, you hoped you never could.

—-///—-

You tried to get comfortable in your new bed, but it seemed impossible. Like the Devil was purposely making the springs press into your back and then laughing at your discomfort.

You huffed as you gave up and got out of bed. You grabbed your carefully stashed away blunts and lighter and headed for your window. Unlocking the old window proved to be a little bit of a challenge but you managed.

You started at the sky as you smoked, the affect of the weed slowly crawled into you and eased you. You leaned against the wall of the window and slowly looked around your room. The atmosphere suddenly changed back to uneasy and even more so.

Something...or maybe someone caught your eye. You had spotted a figure in your room, in front of your bedroom door. It was so dark, you couldn't make out any features. Just the outline of a body.

It freaked you out to say the least and you knew you wasn't that high so this was real. It had to one of your Sisters right? Here to snitch on you for smoking a joint...right?

"If you're here to catch me up to something, well, you caught me. So what are you waiting for now? Go ahead and snitch." You called out.

No response. You were quiet for a few seconds, just staring at the figure. You then sighed a bit before drawing another drag and offering it up to the mysterious figure.

"Or do you want some?"

The figure suddenly disappeared and you couldn't see where it went. You stood up properly in fear and looked around again, you saw nothing. The room looked completely normal even in the dark but certainly didn't feel normal.

You nervously put out the blunt and crawling back into bed. You told yourself it had to have been the pot, even if you didn't feel that high it must of been that. Maybe your dealer gave you something different this time, some pot laced with something. God you hope it was just that. It has to be just a bad trip.

Fortunately, you managed to fall asleep fairly quickly after that. Bud seemed to be just what you needed to fall asleep. You would get you was asleep for maybe a little over an hour before you stirred awake.

Wonderful, awake again, and it only just turned 1am and you were gonna be woken up at 6am. Delicious, this is gonna be a night full of broken up sleep. You looked up to face the ceiling and hopefully fall asleep again, just get those much needed extra hours.

But you couldn't. And you didn't feel like smoking again, so you did the next best thing. Placed both feet against the bed with your knees bent and pushed a hand past your underwear. You carefully fingered yourselves with two fingers. As your pleasure built up, you closed your eyes and focused simply on your own pleasure. A few moaned slipped out of your mouth and when you felt although you was ready, you added another finger.

You lost yourself in your pleasure and smiled as you neared yourself closer to the edge. It didn't take too long, considering how sleepy you already was. But right as you felt your orgasm building, you opened you eyes. And boy did you regret it.

When you opened your eyes, your attention quickly went to the foot of your bed where another figure appeared. And this time, you could see their features. It was Nun, with a terrifying face say the least. You knew it wasn't another Sister because of their lovely face which was smirking down at you, giving you a lovely view of their sharp fangs. Their eyes glowing a piercing yellow.

'Hell no, not today Satan. Please no.' Is what you thought as you, now fully wide awake, threw your covers off, ripped all fingers out of your pussy and made a beeline for the door. You were stopped by a force that only could of been supernatural and air yeeted back onto your bed. You screamed as loud as you could and the creepy looking Nun inched closer and closer to you.

"Oh Baby, don't scream. Don't cry." The Nun pouted down at you and touched your right cheek.

Obviously, you screamed even louder. The Nun's soft expression disappeared almost as soon as it came and they clamped a hand down across your mouth and squeezed.

"Shut up, now." It's tone now gruff and aggressive.

You looked up at them in fear whilst noticing some strange beauty in their face and soon started crying, "Please don't hurt me."

"Oh Dear," Their soft tone suddenly back, "I'm not here to hurt you... I just wanted to help."

"H-Help?" You whispered.

The Nun gave you a smile and headed down south. You thought the smile was supposed to be comforting but it felt so evil and unsettling, it had the opposite the affect. You felt your heart beat faster in fear, the way your heart starts beating when your about to have a panic attack. It definitely didn't help that you still couldn't move and was completely immobilised by this supernatural force.

The Nun pulled your panties down to your knees, not bothering pulling them down all the way and quickly got to work. Their tongue was... something you had experienced before.

It was wet, messy and far too big to be normal. It was driving you insane. If you had to guess from just the feeling, this monster's tongue was almost the same size as the average dick. It quickly turned you into a moaning mess. Your cries became cries of pleasure and you orgasmed almost immediately. Either you was still worked up from fingering yourself, which was unlikely considering the brief heart attack you just had, or this Nun was unstoppable with their tongue.

The Nun gave you two more orgasms with their tongue before coming up. They looked down at you and smirked again. You could see now, their black lips and tongue were black from ash. It was all over their mouth and chin and you was now consumed with worry, hopefully now of that ash got caught in your pussy. Which STI would you get from that?

You hadn't noticed but the Nun had started pulling up their skirt and pulling at something underneath it. Out sprang the biggest dick you had ever seen.

Nope, that wasn't normal, if you saw that monster on any human man you'd tell them to see a Doctor. Cause 12.5 inches (you're estimating based on looks) is not normal. The Nun grinned and stared down at your terrified face as he pumped himself.

You looked up at him, "That's not going inside me."

"Yes it is." He stated matter of factly still smiling at you.

"It will kill me." You responded with a glare.

Whilst you was still a little iffy about the penis size, your fear was starting to melt away and you was no longer afraid to talk to this creature. It could be the dizziness from the multiple orgasms you just had but this was starting to feel like a normal not scary sexual encounter.

"I'll make it work." The Nun shrugged.

"Ok, but I need to know your name first." You told him.

The demon was silent for a few seconds, "I don't usually give my name... but I suppose you will need something to scream so. It's Valak."

Valak thrusted into you immediately after that, not giving you much time to adjust. You screamed in pain but Valak placed a hand over your mouth again and tsked at your vocals, as if you was the problem. He then pulled off your panties completely and shoved them in your mouth without warning, you choked a little and Valak moaned at the sound.

Fortunately Valak hadn't pushed all of himself inside of you, only the first few inches (which is still a whole dick, Valak, but ok) and didn't go any further than that. He moved in and out at normal pace, not seeming to care at all about your cervix which he was currently beating up with his monster cock.

But despite all the complaints, you was starting to love it. Once you had adjusted, you was moaning and crying again. Tears ruining your vision and making Valak more aroused therefore making him move faster.

He groaned as he fucked up and glared down at you, completely focused on your face. Deciding this wasn't enough, he bent your legs back as far as they could go, up to your head and leaving you in a mating press. This gave him more opportunity to add a couple more inches without hurting you as much.

You cried, screamed and whined as the creature defiled you. You felt filthy, absolutely disgusting. But also alive. Something you hadn't felt before. You were squirming and whimpered from a dick too big for your little pussy to comprehend and you loved it. It was now you realised there was no chance you could married to God, you was enjoying such a lewd act, letting a demon fuck you dumb, way too much.

"Please! More!" You whined against your panties.

Valak heard you loud and clear and pressed a thumb on your clit. He would of preferred to sink his whole dick into you but knew it would be too much.

He then leaned down and spat on your mouth. Most of it was immediately soaked up by your panties, which irritated the shapeshifter. So he pulled your panties out of your mouth and spat again.

"Swallow whore." He hissed at you.

You eagerly did as you was told, hoping there would be a reward. And there was, the demon grinned down at you again when he saw you followed orders well, and then shoved his whole tongue in your mouth.

He tasted just as you expected, like ash and death.

As you noticed before when he was eating you out, his tongue was not normal either. It was way too big and long, just like his dick. It filled up your mouth and made you choke slightly. But soon like before, once you adjusted to the size, you was moaning like a slut again.

You came again, you didn't know which number this one but it was definitely better than the last. But you were feeling drained now, overstimulated. You had no idea when Valak would cum though and it made you nervous, surely he would stop once he came you thought. But then, when would he cum? A demon's limit must be far greater than a human's.

And you was right, Valak could fuck for hours without cumming. And that's what he planned to do. He wanted to know what you looked like, excessively overstimulated.

You really wished you hadn't found out what made this place so off.

#stitched #stitched mouth #stitched talks #stitched’s kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #stitched writes #the nun #the nun ii #the nun x reader #the nun smut #valak x reader #valak #valak the nun #valak smut

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niki-phoria · 1 month

Note

i love ur resident evil masterlist.... stayed up all night reading those and giggling like a maniac... ANYWAYS could u like write nanami kento (jjk) x reader that has social anxiety (me ermm..) i just want ur persepctive on how u view it CAN BE TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF RGGRGR but ofc!! u can take ur time writing this i'll probably forget abt this but oh well!!!!

WHEN I'M FALLING DOWN, DOWN, DOWN / YOU ALWAYS SAVE ME

pairing: nanami kento x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff/comfort word count: 677

notes: tysm it means the world to me !! technically i don't write for nanami but i had an idea for this :) mostly based on my own experiences with social anxiety lol, title from nct dream - breathing

the night air smells of barbeque smoke and beer. laughter from young children and drunken words passed between adults surround you until you can barely hear yourself think over the chatter. the light pink and orange streaks in the sky came and went with the sunset, being replaced instead by the flickering led light shining from the various rides and attractions filling the fairgrounds.

any game and ride you could think of surrounds you. there are street vendors lining the streets selling all sorts of drinks and snacks. nanami has remained steadfast against your side, casually pushing others away from you when they threaten to intrude a bit too close for comfort. but all you can focus on is the people.

they surround you. wherever your eyes turn, there’s always another stranger. another pair of eyes on you.

your heart pounds wildly in your chest. your hands are clammy when you wipe them against your clothing. they tremble a little when you curl them into fists, doing your best to brave the sea of people ahead. after all, of all the terrible things that exist in the world, some strangers enjoying their night off shouldn’t be the thing that paralyzes you with fear.

“y/n,” nanami’s voice is soft - comforting - when he leans in. it’s a nice contrast to the loudness of the world around you. dark eyes meet your own when you glance over at him. anyone else would’ve missed the soft curve pulling his lips into a frown. the way his eyebrows are furrowed slightly, studying each minute detail of your expression for any signs of discomfort.

but you’re not anyone else. you can read nanami’s thoughts like they’re your own. you can feel his concern when he leans in a little closer to whisper in your ear. “are you feeling alright?”

you bite down on your bottom lip, taking another cursory glance at the crowd surrounding you. another person carelessly brushing past you is all it takes before you make up your mind. your hand is shaky when you curl your fingers around the hem, tugging his arm a little closer to you. he takes the initiative, ignoring the people shoving past him to step a little closer towards you. “can we go somewhere quieter?”

“of course.” nanami’s hand finds your own without you realizing; his fingers link with yours as you slip through the crowded street. you keep your eyes trained on the ground below, studying the scuff marks decorating your shoes instead of the faces of the strangers that surround you.

the fairgrounds feel more like a maze as nanami carefully guides you towards the exit, pushing through the worst of the crowd until you reach a more quiet area in the corner. the thin metal barrier sways in the wind as you slip out through the opening until you’re finally able to take shelter on a little metal bench away from the crowd.

“how are you feeling?”

you sigh, finally relaxing against the cold metal. if nothing else, it serves as a nice reminder that you’re temporarily safe from your own anxieties. “i’m fine. i just got a little overwhelmed.”

he hums in response. his eyes drift away from your face to the goosebumps that line your bare skin. without another word, nanami slips his tan blazer off, carefully draping it across your shoulders. you smile softly, wrapping it further around yourself as he sits down beside you.

you sit together in a comfortable silence, silently observing the way the led lights illuminate the night sky above. nanami’s hands feel warm when he intertwines your fingers together. you softly smile, pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek before leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder. in the distance, you can see the flashing lights of the ferris wheel lighting up the night sky. “thank you, kento.”

nanami smiles. under the cover of darkness, nobody witnesses when his lips brush against the crown of your forehead for a brief moment before he murmurs, “i love you,” except for the stars.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

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kaeyas-beloved · 6 months

Text

a shot in the dark

Character: Wanderer

— his fourth and final betrayal…

CWs: gn!reader (no pronouns), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, death/murder, guns, Apocalypse AU, Wanderer is referred to as such and as Kunikuzushi

val’s no sympathy november masterlist

Started laughing like Light Yagami at work just thinking about the pain I’m about to inflict :)

“You promised me!”

Eyes the colour of a midnight sky - the same eyes you've spent the past few years memorizing, learning and getting lost in their depths during sleepless nights - bubble with tears.

At first glance his expression portrays anger, but you’ve known him long enough to know that there’s more to it. He’s angry, yes, but he’s not angry at you, not really. No, if anything he’s cursing out the world more, for doing him wrong once again, for torturing him by ripping you away from him. Everything he’s ever known feels as if it’s crumbling around him, the barely concealed tremble in his irises telling of the turmoil he’s fighting and losing to.

Denial quickly takes over, your body getting shaken by the shoulders. He starts pleading with you to cut the act, that the joke isn’t funny and never was. Ideas and theories cloud his mind; they say if you cut off the infected part of the body in time you can stop the transformation from human to zombie.

Yet, as he grasps your arm in a firm but not bruising grip, all it takes is one look at the bite on your forearm to know there is no saving you, not with how bloody and discolored the skin around it is. This is the end.

A soft sniffle echoes in the quiet night, his voice softer than before, the note of defeat unmistakable, "You… you promised…"

You did, and faced with the reality that you can't keep that promise, you wrap your arms around him. Whispers of hushes and apologies fill his ear; you're sorry for not being more careful, for acting before thinking, for leaving him alone in this shithole of a world. There will never be enough words or sentences in all the languages to convey the agony you feel at what you're putting him through.

Even though you pull away from him you keep a firm hand on his cheek; you have to make sure he's looking at you when you say what has to be said.

A broken smile appears on your face, your eyes darting all over him, committing each detail to memory, "You're not going to like what I have to say next…"

His reaction is immediate, tone all bark and no bite, "then don't say it at all! Fuck, why didn't you ask me to come along!? Then you could've saved that little girl, I would've dealt with the monsters and you'd be fine right now!"

For a moment you remain quiet; there's truth in his outburst, but you were the one in charge of scavaging today. Your group had scouted a particular place for a few days; no one had taken anything and the volume of zombies was near to none, all that was needed was one person to go raid the place, and you were the lucky sucker.

A tear slips down your face; it’s not like you want to say what comes next, it’s more of a need. As much as you hate to think it, everything from that moment on was business.

Pulling back fully, you reach for his limp hand while stretching to unclamp a gun from the holster on your waist. Anyone with a brain knew what you were about to say, and he didn't like it one bit, eyes sharpening into a glare. Retching his hand from you, Wanderer steps back, shaking his head vehemently.

“No.” He’s firm on his stance one the matter, voice deadly serious as he looks at the weapon you hold out to him. He won’t; he can’t. It takes you parroting the words he said to you before for him to even hear you out. all it takes is a second to stand in front of him again, setting the cool, heavy object in his shaking palm.

"You promised me that if this ever happened, you'd end my life before I turned." In one big step you’re in front of him again, setting the cold object in his shaking palm. Suddenly it feels like he’s holding the weight of tons.

“God I wish I could kiss you right now… I want to so, so bad,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his, your noses brushing. You push the silencer attachment into his other hand, "but I don't want to infect you, so this little contact we have will have to do."

"I love you. I love you so much and I never want you to forget that. My dear Kunikuzushi..." Tears roll down your cheeks freely now as you gently rub under his eyes, “please, do this for me. I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

You’re hurting me, he thinks, but deep down he knows this must be done. It’s what you want.

He doesn’t say much as he nods, grabbing into your wrist again. This time it’s not with the urgency or hope that things could still be salvaged; this time it’s with the deep rooted need to comfort you, “I know you love the stars… I think it’s only right that you get to see them for all they are one last time.”

You’re silent as he drags you to a wide open clearing, the grass reaching just below your knees. The tiny gasp you let out was involuntary, as every time you see the night sky it steals your breath away. Even when you’ve seen them a thousand times in this very spot, they never fail to let you escape from your current reality. How fitting… the perfect place to forget the impending end.

Wanderer is deadly silent beside you as he screws on the silencer, refusing to look at you. He knows if he does he’ll fall in love with your wonder filled gaze all over again and back out in a heartbeat.

While looking around and taking in each twinkle of light, you hear a murmur from beside you, barely intelligible. You hum, asking him to repeat himself.

“I love you too.” He says clearly that time, “I’m sorry for not saying it enough.”

Smiling softly at him, you cup his cheek again, “I know. It’s alright, you didn’t have to say it for me to know you love me.”

In an instant you’re pulled into another hug - your last, you bitterly realize - and you wrap your arms around him without a second thought. God how he wants to kiss you too, he wants to say a proper goodbye.

“Go enjoy that stars…” he whispers to you instead, reluctantly letting you slip away from him.

Kunikuzushi was a sharp shooter, known for always hitting his target. It was a trait he took pride in, but as he aims for the back of your head now… he doesn’t know exactly how to feel, knowing what will happen, able to picture the next few minutes in his mind.

Eyes the colour of a stormy night follow you as you walk into the middle of the field. Silently he counts to thirty, then continues to count. By time he reaches fifty he sees your shoulders ease up, your head tilting this way and that, no doubt looking for constellations.

He chose then to pull the trigger, feeling sick to his stomach as he watches your silhouette fall, knowing that you won’t be rising next to him in bed come tomorrow morning.

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @kochothehoe // @ii-lily2 // @esuz

#val’s nsn #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x you #wanderer x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #genshin angst #genshin wanderer #genshin fanfic #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche angst #wanderer angst

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prophetszendo · 6 months

Text

How the birds fall (pt. 2)

Content warning: suicide

Pairing: Astarion/you (no use of y/n or pronouns)

Summary: this is an alternate ending to part 1. The difference? Just a few seconds.

Word count: 1.4k

Disclaimer: not a native speaker, feel free to point out mistakes or weird sentences.

Astarion layed on his stomach, his torso hanging over the cliff. With one hand, he was holding himself, and with the other, he was reaching down. And he was yelling your name repeatedly, as his hands opened and closed, hoping to feel a piece of clothing, or a hand be caught in it.

But he was just a blink too late.

Back in the night, he was laying awake in his bed. He felt hungry, started to starve, and desperately wanted to feed. Yet he didn’t approach you. He felt like it would have shown his weakness for you, just how much he depends on you. He felt he had been used enough in his life, and didn’t need you to do the same.

He heard you shuffle around in your tent, then leave it. He found nothing strange about it, people can have casual buiness in the night. He expected your return soon, and when the night stayed silent, a thought crossed his mind. Maybe, just maye, you knew it was long since he fed and now you were waiting for him in a more quiet, secluded area.

Astarion got a bit too excitied for his own good. He could definitely not stay still like this, so he also sneaked out into the moonlight. It reminded him of the old times, when he would only be able to be under the sky after the sun set. He quickly shook the memory off, and focused on you. Thanks to his darkvision, he clearly saw which path you took. He beileved he was able to smell you, especially your sweet sweet blood among the trees.

He felt like a hunter, going after his prey in the dark. He quite liked this game.

He followed your trail silently. His boots made no sound, he wanted to suprise you with his arrival. He felt your taste on his tongue already, and he wanted more and more.

He always wanted more.

He slowly reached you. He caught a glimpse of you sitting on a log. You had your back to him, and you didn’t notice him. He noticed that you were facing a cliff. Unusual place for a feast.

Astarion prepared to approach you, when he got the feeling that something was off. He observed you a bit closer, and noticed a few oddities. Your back was hunched way more than usual. On an average day, you carried yourself confidently, but now, you seemed much more fragile, and small. Your breathing was also irregular, which again, was very unlike you.

His first thought was thag you got lost, and something spooked you. Maybe some of the nightlife? He smirked, as he planned to go and save you, and then you would offer yourself to him, and he would get to bite you and finally feel a bit satisfied.

Before he could move, you stood up, and went ro the edge of the cliff. Your head was facing down, and your breathinf stabilized.

Astarion thought you seemed calm.

Then a horrible, horrible suspicion hit him. As you you lifted your arms, as if you wantes to hug the sky in front of you, Astarion shot out of hiding, and started running towards you. His arm raised in front of him, to grab you and pull you back.

As if it was in slow motion, you started to fall. His legs felt entirely way too heavy. Maybe if he wasn’t on the edge of starving, he would have been faster.

But now, he was just a breath too late. His fingers nearly touched you.

You never stopped falling.

And here he was, yelling, screaming your name, hoping that would cast featherfall on you, so you would be alright. He remembered this cliff, the team briefly saw it earlier, and it was endlessly deep. And you were falling into the abyss, even his night seeing gaze couldn’t pierce.

As you disappeared from his sight, he lied there, in complete shock. What just happened? Why would you knowingly jump down into the nothingness?

It must have been the tadpole – and idea raised in Astarions mind. It must have been taking you over, making you stuff you never wantes to. But you were strong minded, you would never let yourself be taken over like this.

A painful memory rose in him. And one more. And another one.

He had noticed your weird expression you had when you thought noone was looking. The glimmer in your eyes were gone and was replaced by dullness. Your smile, which normally seemed to be glued to you was also gone. As if you were a completely different person. Yet, only after a moment or two of him noticing this, your face would go back to the usual, and the fierce and strong leader would come back and solve every problem.

Astarion suddenly felt a tug on his mind and before he could do anything, feelings that weren’t his floded him.

After a second, he realized they were yours. Your last feelings. Just as fast as they came, they were gone.

And so were you.

Astarion cried out in pain. He rolled onto his back, and put his palm over his face, as he started sobbing uncontrollably.

Because it was his fault.

He never payed close attention on how the adveture was for you. He always let you make the hard decisions. No, that wasn’t the right wording. He always made you choose.

No wonder you felt pressured. The feelings he recieved were everything you felt on the edge. His throath narrowed, as he started to untangle, to understand you.

To understand why you would leave him like this.

He had no right to think this way. You were never his, no matter how much he wanted it to happen. He constantly self sabotaged, and denied himself the luxury to trust you and take an honest liking in you. Now, he understood what he denied you and it made him feel more like a monster.

You never made him feel like a monster. No matter what he did. Not even when he sneaked up on you to take a bite, not when you said horrible things, and not when he acted cold towards you on purpose.

You only felt hurt, but you never thought less of him.

He felt lost. Since he met you, he felt some sort of security in his life. You accepted him for who he was, like noone did before. You cared about him, and did anything he asked.

And Astarion never thanked you, or showed anything sincere for it. Now he will never be able to, and regret was taking him over. He took you granted, like how he was taken granted in his past.

He was so taken over by self pity, and how horrible he was, that he failed to see further than himself. If he said a few nice words to you after seeing you so broken, maybe you would be sleeping in your tent now, and not somewhere out of his reach.

If he told you just how much he needed you, maybe now you would be sitting next to him, telling him about your day, sharing the hardships of the trip, and maybe some plans for the future.

He never even asked what you wanted to do after this was over, he realized. This thought caused another set of loud sobs and tears to appear. How could he have been so selfish?

All he ever wanted is to have a future with you. Because with you, he could see further than tomorrow. Maybe a sweet little home in Baldur’s Gate.

Only if he said it out loud.

Only if he told you just how much you are on his mind. How much he wishes to hold you, to caress you, to kiss youm

Only if he told you how much he loved you.

This thought kept swirling in his mind, he couldn’t get rid of it. He sat up, and inched closer to the cliff. He kept his distance, as in his mind he saw you fall again and again. But he looked down, as much as he could.

„I’m... So sorry. I loved... I love you.”

His voice cracked, and he just sat there, crying his aching heart out.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin

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simpforboys · 1 year

Text

midnight glow

neteyam sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: you sneak neteyam out of his marui pod to show him the ocean night life

warnings: fluff, um that’s really it, it’s very fluffy, you and neteyam are 18

based on yellow by coldplay

time was going by excruciatingly slow. you laid in your pod, your sister, tsireya, fast asleep next to you as your brother, ao’nung, snored in his sleep.

your mother and father were in a pod connected to yours. groaning lowly, you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

for some reason, you couldn’t sleep. stars barely illuminated the dark sky as you slowly stood up, careful not to trip over your siblings or disturb them.

you quietly walked towards the ocean, staring out as the plants and creatures glowed in the dark.

you smiled, putting your finned hand in the warm water as a turtle-like animal swam under your fingertips, allowing you to feel the bright shell.

your ears perked up when you heard a groan come from the sully pod. you gently approached it, peeking your head in to see neteyam pushing lo’ak over.

“get off of me, you skxawng (idiot).”

lo’ak snored as he slept deeply, tuk laid next to him and kiri tucked away in the corner.

you giggled, accidentally alerting neteyam of your presence.

he blushed as he stood up, not realizing you were watching him.

“what are you doing up?” he whispered.

you shrugged, his bright yellow eyes met your blue ones.

“couldn’t sleep. ao’nung snores too.” you smiled as neteyam grinned down at you.

“do you wish to join me for an adventure?”

neteyam eyed you curiously.

“come on, big boy. don’t be afraid.” you teased, walking out of the pod.

neteyam looked at his sleeping family, making the choice to follow you. he watched your light blue skin disappear into the water before you resurfaced, your curls floating around you in the water.

“za’u (come).” you said to the omaticaya.

you watched neteyam dive in, his braided hair resurfacing as he watched you.

“deep breath…” you lead neteyam’s breathing before you dove under the water.

neteyam followed you as you swam into a pink cave, creatures glowing as they approached you.

the boy watched you with a big grin as you giggled underwater, spinning around to watch a scaly otter as it circled you playfully.

you grabbed neteyam’s hand and led him into the cave, finally resurfacing once you reached an air pocket.

neteyam let out a deep breath, smiling as he caught you watching him.

“beautiful, isn’t it?” you beamed.

“yes, very beautiful.” neteyam wasn’t sure if he was talking about the sea or you. the way your skin and all the little details lit up with the sea was driving him crazy.

you smiled, calling out to your ilu. she came up within seconds, allowing both you and neteyam to pet her as she nuzzled you.

you got on your bonded animal, grabbing neteyam’s hand as he got on. his hands sat tightly on your waist as the ilu took off.

your stomach erupted in butterflies when you realized how he was holding you. his chest was against your back, his hands holding your hips.

➽─────────────────❥

you playfully splashed neteyam as you two walked back onto the shore, knees-deep in the ocean water.

the boy smirked mischievously as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. you squealed from the sudden action.

“fnu (quiet), my y/n.”

your face became extremely warm at the pronoun. neteyam eventually let you down, looking at you with adoration in his bright eyes.

it was no secret to anyone on awa’atlu that you and neteyam had a little thing going on.

while your mother wasn’t fond of the closeness, she knew better then to get involved.

your feet against the sand, a slight breeze in your hair. the way your frame was illuminated by the skyline, neteyam swore he met eywa for a second.

he grabbed a little flower and put it gently in your hair, tucking the curls.

“lor (beautiful)…” neteyam mumbled. you nuzzled your cheek into his big hand, allowing your other hand to intertwine with his.

“let me show you.” neteyam began to softly spin you around, doing a slow style dance that he saw his father do with his mother.

you giggled as he swayed you, his own chuckling causing your heart to flutter.

he held you against him, your back pressed tightly against his chest with your hands intertwined. you laid your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him lovingly.

his soft features were illustrated against the starry sky. he was humming a song from one of the omaticaya parties, enjoying your body heat.

you didn’t know what time it was, nor did you care. neteyam’s body felt so natural against your own, you never wanted to leave.

“oel ngati kameie (i see you), my neteyam.”

the words slipped out before you realized, but neteyam leaned his head down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“oel ngati kameie, my y/n. i want to spend every breathing moment with you.”

you leaned off of neteyam, his hands still in yours. you stared into his eyes.

“what are you-“

“i wish to be your mate, your forever, if you would allow me.”

you couldn’t contain your happiness as you leaned in, pressing a kiss on neteyam’s lips. he held your hips, grinning through the kiss.

you finally began to pull away, smiling bright at your lover.

“i wish to be your mate, neteyam. my neteyam.”

the boy pulled you back into his chest, his long arms wrapped tightly around your body as you held his waist snugly.

the two of you began to dance in the moonlight again, unaware neteyam’s father, jake, was watching you two from the marui pod.

the father had a proud smile on his face, reminding him of when neytiri and him mated.

and he was beyond proud his eldest son had found his forever.

#simpforboys #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #i need him #avatar 2 #avatar #the way of water #jake sully #metkayina #omaticaya

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teacheesee · 9 months

Text

i am your singer (zoro x reader) smut

minors DNI.

fem bodied reader, no pronouns used!

warnings: sex. unprotected sex. idk

pt1 pt2

after meeting zoro and joining the strawhats, you and zoro spend the next days getting to know each other…

“So this is where you’ll sleep.”

“Oh, this is nice! It’s really all for me?” You asked Nami, gently setting your bag down on the bed..

“Yeah, even though I’m sure you’ll be sharing eventually,” she responded with a wink as she headed to the door, pausing to lean against the frame.

“Cut it out!” you turned around, laughing at her insinuation. She smiled.

The moonlight filtered in from behind her as she watched you continue to explore your new bedroom. “He really likes you, you know,” she motioned back with a nod, “I do too. All the crew does.” She began to walk out of your view “You’re just what we needed around here, someone to liven it all up!”

You smiled at her words and sighed. Hands on your hips, you evaluated the room with an air of content. This really was a huge change. Leaving to go live with some guy after making out with him at a bar was definitely not the wisest decision you could make, but you were so glad you did. If what Nami said was true about the crew liking you around, you were happy to know the feeling was mutual.

Being stuck in a stagnant town on a small island was stifling at best. Now on the open seas, with no guarantee of what tomorrow would bring, you were filled with excitement, and every doubt you had about leaving vanished. Before you could get too wrapped up in your thoughts, you heard someone clear their throat by the door. Turning around, you met soft gray eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Zoro responded, lifting himself off the doorframe to walk to where you stood. You took a deep breath in and raised your arms to gesture around the room.

“Can you believe it! All mine!” You smiled, still thinking about your old life, abandoned for the better.

Zoro hummed a response and watched you while you walked to your bag and started putting clothes into the drawers next to your bed. He took a seat on the bed next to where you were working. In the moonlight spilling from the window across your face, he began noting your features. Beautiful, he thought.

He never really pursued people, always prioritising his goals in favor of romantic endeavors. But you. Maybe you caught him in a moment of weakness. Or maybe you were becoming the weakness itself. He was excited to find out which one it was. Either way, the silence between you two was comfortable as you worked to make the room your own.

“So, and I know we’ve done this all out of order,” you chuckled, breaking the silence, “but tell me about yourself.” Zoro moved, laying down on your bed and looking up at the ceiling, starting to tell you about himself, what he’s doing on the crew, how he met everyone, stories of their adventures so far, and eventually you’ve paused your tidywork, opting to sit next to him as you became more and more engrossed.

The hours slip away and the moonlight is replaced with that of a few lamps placed around the room. Quiet laughter and jokes that made the time pass until you noticed the sky start to brighten.

“No way! The sun is rising already,” you said, picking your head up from where you were laying next to Zoro, still talking all of the night away. He tore his gaze away from your smiling face and towards the dark blue sky.

“We should probably sleep,” he said, plopping back down next to you.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, staring from his eyes back to his lips, “we probably should.” Smirking, he cupped a hand around your jaw and pulled you into a sweet kiss. You broke away, giggling, you couldn’t help it. And he couldn’t help it either when he broke into a quiet laugh with you.

“What!” he chuckled, pulling away and looking at you, his eyes searching yours. You pulled him in for another series of light pecks, starting from his lips to his cheeks and jaw while you giggled incessantly.

“You’re delirious,” he stated, a wide smile cracking through his voice.

“I am so not! I’m just happy!” You calmed down from your fit, sighing and moving so the top of your head was tucked under his chin. “So happy,” you repeated.

His arms surrounded you and pulled you closer. Zoro wasn’t one for words, you realized, it was more through his actions that he displayed care and affection. With his arms around you, and to the sounds of his deep breathing, you fell asleep.

Waking up on a ship was different. The rocking sensation stuck to your body, and the larger waves that hugged the hull of the ship begged you to stay in bed. You stretched out, half expecting Zoro to have left at some time after you fell asleep. Your outstretched hand met his face with a slap and he shot up, half asleep and mumbling. You couldn’t repress the laugh that came from your lips.

“Sorry!” he turned to look at you and laid back down, pulling you to him as you had drifted throughout your sleep.

“Mm, morning” he grumbled.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you ran a hand through his short green hair and he smiled.

A few minutes passed before you dared to break the silence, “We probably should get up.”

“Probably” he mumbled into your neck.

“I wanna be friends with everyone and get to know these pirates I live with for some reason now.”

“Some reason,” he repeated with a playful tone. Yawning, you got upout of his hold and rummaged through your clothes to find an outfit. You left your bedroom and went into the bathroom to change, looking in the mirror to check yourself. Presentable for your first day as a pirate, you’d say. A pirate! How exciting.

When you came out, Zoro had left. You peered to your bed where a note sat.

Crows nest.

Breakfast might be weird BTW.

Just ignore it.

-Z

Okay. Breakfast might be weird. Whatever that means. Zoro must’ve opened your window before he left because a warm breeze swirled around your room.

Breakfast was weird! Not weird in a bad way, just strangely extravagant. Sanji had prepared you a giant breakfast since he wasn’t sure of your preferences. Thanking him and leaving him to tend to a nosebleed, you left the kitchen and headed for the crow’s nest.

You walked in to see a very shirtless, very sweaty Zoro. You turned to leave, afraid you had come in at a bad time, even more afraid of what you would do or say if you stayed.

“Where you going!” He called, slightly huffing as he continued to lift some weights that looked like their weight should not be able to be supported by this ship. You paused, turning around, ignoring the blush that crawled up to your cheeks.

“Uh,” you started, trying desperately not to stare but to also not avoid his gaze. He nodded over his shoulder, “You can sit over there if you want, nice views,” he returned to his weights. You were grateful for the space he was offering you. You walked over and stood facing towards the open windows that extended a breeze into the room.

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled, taking in the scene of crystal blue water stretching for miles beyond you. As a breeze came in, you shivered.

“Cold?” You jumped and turned around, suddenly face to face with Zoro, and suddenly not cold at all. He walked to sit next to you, a white towel hung around his shoulders, the sweat that had been there wicked away. He sipped from a bottle of water while he looked out and some of it ran down his chin and neck. You gulped at the sight as he wiped it away with the back of his hand, and turned away back to the view you were sharing.

“Was breakfast weird?”

“It was, thanks for the warning,” you chuckled and looked around the room, “Are you up here a lot?” Zoro nodded.

“Gotta be if I wanna get stronger, you know.” He looked around too, “I bet we can make an area up here where you could hang out and read or whatever while I train.” You couldn’t hold back the beam that cracked through your lips at his thoughtfulness. He looked at you, shocked at your expression, a smile tracing the corners of his lips.

“What are you smiling at!?”

“You. You’re a big softie under all these muscles,” you prodded at his arm. Totally not an excuse to touch his arm. He laughed and grabbed your wrist, using his hold on you to pull you closer to him as he threw you over one shoulder, his hand settling on your waist.. You erupted into a fit of giggles and light kicks of protest.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” you faux-pouted.

“I swear I’m hearing something,” he scratched his head, feigning confusion.

“Shut up!” you laughed, lightly hitting your fists against his bare back. Not an excuse to touch his back, either. He concecded, letting you down in front of him, the laughter dying down now as a tension-filled silence took it’s place.

You pulled him down for a kiss, and as it deepened, the sense of lust took the place of innocence. Your lips chased eachother and his tongue sweeped your lips and you let him in, drawing him impossibly closer. You huffed as you pulled away, his thumb brushing across your swelling bottom lip.

Locking eyes, you came to a silent decision, and in unison the two of you frantically scurried down out of the crow’s nest.

Landing on the deck, Zoro grabbed your hand as you two attempted to walk very normally towards your room, although the subtle touches and grabs would definitely have given you away if anyone had happened to see you.

The door to your room had barely closed by the time Zoro had your shirt pulled over your head and discarded it somewhere on the floor. He kissed you as he walked you towards your bed, the back of your knees giving out as you hit it. He followed you as you fell gently down, kneeling between your legs.

Pulling away, he brushed hair out of your face as he looked into your eyes. “Is this okay,” he asked, a hand creeping down to your inner thigh. You met his eyes with excitement as you nodded, “Please.”

Your hands worked to pull down your shorts as you kicked them away, leaving you in only your undergarments. Your arms snaked around his bare chest to rest on his shoulders as he dipped down to kiss at your exposed thighs. You let out a surprised sound when he nipped at your skin, immeditely using his tongue to ease the pain. Noticing your growing impatience, he finally ventured to the place you wanted him to go to. Licking through your underwear, his tongue traced your slit, moaning as he got a taste of you. Hearing his sounds, you ran your hands through his hair and pulled him closer to your core. At this motion he smirked.

“You really should use your words, beautiful,” he said, “tell me where you want me to go, what you want me to do.”

“Please,” you looked away. His thick finger began to pull down your underwear, pulling your attention back towards him, his eyes pleading for you to say what you wanted.

“Please…?”

“Please Zoro, please fuck me–” you cut yourself off with a moan when his finger plunged into you without warning. He smiled, watching your face intently when his thumb came up to circle your clit. The expressions that were etched on your face were heavenly, and the hard on in his pants twitched with excitement.

“You’re so beautiful,” Zoro mumbled into you as his mouth replaced his thumb and he kissed your clit. You couldn’t help but groan when he slid another finger into you, the rough calluses on his fingers providing fraction enough for you to approach your high quickly. Feeling you tense around him, he pulled his hand away. You groaned at the sudden loss of stimulation coupled with the fading of your high. He stood up, taking off the remainder of his clothes.

“Not yet, okay beautiful? I wanna feel you around me first, and then I’ll let you come as many times as you want, that sound good?” You nodded as you pushed yourself towards the middle of the bed, him climbing over you. Zoro dipped down to kiss your neck, making sure to leave marks there for everyone to see at dinner tonight.

“How did I get so lucky,” he whispered against you, his large hands exploring your chest and abdomen while he lined himself up with your entrance.

You felt him shift against you, his dick beginning to give you back the friciton you had lost from earlier. Zoro looked up at you, and you nodded, giving him permission. He pushed in slowly, studying your face as he did, and when hints of discomfort crossed your face, he stopped for you to adjust.

A low guttural groan escaped his lips when he bottomed out.

“You’re doing so well for me, gorgeous,” he stuttered through clenched teeth. “Can I move now or do you need a second.”

Your hands wrapped to hold his muscular back, “Move, please Zoro, need you so bad.”

At your words he began to thrust into you slowly, his pace building as the time went by. He relished in the feeling of you all around him, your nails delightfully digging into his back. He leaned down to kiss you, melting together as the feeling of closeness encapsulated you both. His steady pace slowly became erratic and faster as he was nearing. He brought a hand down to rub your clit to bring you through your high first.

You moaned his name as you tightened around him, a feeling of hot bliss coursing through your veins. After hearing his name exit shamelessly from your swollen lips, Zoro’s hips stuttered as he finally let go deep inside you. He laid down on top of you while still inside, the both of you still breathing heavily. Zoro pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“If this is what being a pirate is like, then I would’ve joined a crew WAY sooner,” you laughed. He smiled and leaned up, your hands rubbing his back while he kissed you again. He really could not get enough of you.

You smiled as he pulled away, looking into your eyes. In them he swears he could see a future with you by his side as the two of you chase your dreams, but he would never say this out loud. Maybe he will one day, but not right now.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked.

“You.”

The giggle that left your lips was contagious, and Zoro couldn’t help but smile with you. You’ve become his weakness, he mused, pushing loose hairs away from your face.

“Oh,” you mumbled looking down to where you two were connected. Zoro’s eyes widened and a blush crept up his cheeks as he realized he was hard again.

“Thinking of me?”

A/N •.* okay first time writing smut be nice but also give me suggestions on what i can work on/ what you want to see from me next!! mwah bye•.*

#one piece zoro #zoro imagine #zoro x y/n #zoro x sanji #zoro x reader #zoro x luffy #zoro smut #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro headcanons #op zoro #zoro fanart #zoro x you #roronoa zoro #zoro fluff #roanoa zoro #pirate hunter zoro

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enterwittyjokehere · 21 days

Text

Here is Vouyer Gale as promised! I had a lot of fun writing this one, I am currently working on two requested fics and two more smutshots. So more will be coming soon :þ

No Apologies Needed

[Gale Dekarios (of waterdeep) x amab! Reader]

[⚠️Warnings⚠️]

[Amab reader]

[No pronouns used]

[Heavy smut 18+ only]

[Vouyerism]

[Exhibitionism]

[Oral]

[Anal penetration]

The moon hung high in the sky, stars littered the dark blue curtain of the universe, hiding the rest of existence from the people of Faerûn. The famed wizard of waterdeep, Gale Dekarios, laid in the midst of it all. His bedroll was taken out of his tent, laid in the open air, staring up at the beautiful sight, taking all of it in, based on news he had received the wizard had a new lease on life to say the least. Trying to take time enjoying life rather than wasting precious moments worrying and rotting away, a sharp exhale left his mouth as his lack of sleep had caught up with him, although he was not yet ready to succumb to the needed action of slumber. To Gale the night was still young.

He glanced around the camp, everyone else had gotten in their bedrolls and started sleeping, or meditating, or so it seemed. His well trained eyes spotted a small light radiating through the fabric wall of one tent, the tent of the so-called ‘leader’ of the little ragtag party. Gale rolled onto his stomach to get a better look, it didn't flicker like the light of a candle, it shone bright like a magick light. Thoughts of why you would need a light this late at night swam around Gale’s head perhaps you couldn't sleep and were reading a book or maybe you were practicing a trade, curiosity flooded Gale’s senses.

The wizard would never come to admit it to the rest of the party, but he had quite a few strong feelings towards you. Although, even now when he had a greater purpose, thoughts of missing you and what the two of you could share flooded his mind.

Standing to his feet he made soft steps towards the tent, only when he got closer did he understand why you were up so late at night, Gale stopped in his tracks when he heard a soft, stifled moan.

“..F**k- Yes..”

Your voice was quiet, even with how rushed your breathing sounded, Gale's mind began to race as he got closer. Small slapping sounds and a rhythmic rustling sound, painted a clear picture of what was transpiring inside the tent.

You grinded against your hand, thoughts of Gale’s pretty mouth suckling sweetly on your hard c**k made your stomach flutter. Trying your best to fight off the moans and yet you still failed, “Gods… -Gale!”

Fear clouded Gale's senses when he heard your audible moan, fearing for a moment he had been caught. When more breathy and ragged moans were heard he knew he was safe in his voyeurism. The wizard of waterdeep paused, hearing his name on your lips in such an intimate tone… His mind was reduced to one sided putty, he had no drive for anything else in the moment but focusing on your actions.

The soft fabric of the trousers he wore suddenly got tighter and tighter as he fought against the emotions of guilt bubbling into his heart. He listened as you worked your er*ct*on away, moaning as you got closer and closer to that heavenly threshold.

Gale's mind raced, he ached to help you cross that threshold, he wanted to shove you over it and allow you to revel in it- in him.

Gale steadily listened as you hit your peak, swears littering your breathless demeanor as you pumped yourself slowly prolonging the descent from your climax.

The light you had been using extinguished and the figure outside your tent was shown to you. Frightened, at first, you hastily pulled your trousers up, quickly opening your tent, seeing a very frightened yet flustered Gale.

“I had a reason for coming over here-” He paused, taking his lip between his teeth, “and yet, right now I am blanking on that reason…”

Dumbstruck. You had no thoughts, only emotions that flooded your senses. Embarrassment heated your face, making you a red and sweaty mess. Fear of what Gale was thinking and feeling. Fear of rejection piled into your stomach like a heavy weight sat at the bottom of your torso. Relief that the shadow outside your tent was an ally and not some raider coming to kill and loot your camp.

Once your mind returned to you you noticed Gale was staring at you, “Gale- I… I can explain.”

“Oh, please, there's no need for any of that. It's not as though I'm the one who has any reason to be upset.” He spoke, a soft smile littered his expression.

“Y-You're not upset at me?”

Gale's face dropped, “No. Of course not, I expected you to be more disgruntled at me…”

“Oh, I could never.” You said, your eyes tracing the wizard, it was only now that you noticed his slight er*ct*on, “Gale?”

Your eyebrow raised at the sight, he suddenly remembered his predicament. Throwing his hands down in an attempt to shield himself, “Once again, I apologize, (y/n).”

He attempted to walk away, but he stopped shortly after, turning around as you called out to him, “Gale, wait-”

He turned around slightly, you bit your bottom lip. A small simper now adorned your sleepy features, “I could help you with that, if you're comfortable with something like that, of course.”

It was Gale's turn to have no thoughts, his head completely empty as your words rattled around his head. Echoing through his skull, you could almost see the gears began to turn as he placed his thumb to his lip.

“... Are you offering…” He turned, glancing back to the other's tents, “What I think you're offering?”

Standing to your feet fully, you approached the wizard, your head nodding to answer his question. Gale tensed at your sudden closeness, his reaction only grew when you reached up to smooth the fabric on his shoulders.

“If you're comfortable with my offer, of course.”

Gale slightly nodded, his big brown doe eyes clouded over in thought, before he actually took time to answer. He adorned a small simper, similar to your own lustful one, “Yes, I would enjoy nothing more.”

Gale's eyes widened as your cold hands traced over his jaw and up his cheek, cupping the stubble-covered flesh. Bringing him down kissing him softly, Gale's hands rested on your waist. As he deepened the kiss, his hands shifted to your lower back, resting Iright on the bump of your butt.

Gale's firm hands pulled you closer, smiling into the embrace, “Shall we go inside then?”

“Well, Gale, I thought since you're so keen on watching… maybe you should be the center of focus.” Gale stared at you, absorbing your words, pailing at them half a moment later.

“You don't mean” His worried eyes glanced around the sleepy camp, not a single soul was awake, “out here…?”

“Is that a problem?”

“A very large one. Yes.” Gale retorted, grabbing onto your forearms.

“Kneel.” You said, pushing a finger to Gale's lips. Gale followed your hand, getting on his knees as you had said, his brown eyes traced up your body. Staring up at you Gale waited for you to speak, as you watched him writhe from above.

You hooked the hem of your trousers with your fingers and let them fall. Presenting Gale with your still sensitive c**k, the wizard hesitated fear of the others waking up clouded his mind.

His fears were brought to an end as you pulled his head back to face you, “Gale! Mouth!”

A quick hum was pulled from your mouth as Gale took you into his own, suckling sweetly around your length. Your hands fell into his long brown hair, pushing his face closer to your body. Groaning as Gale gagged around you, his firm hands gripped the backs of your thighs steadying himself.

You could feel yourself growing inside of Gale's mouth, the words you spoke were delivered in a huff, “Gale, that's good.”

Your hands pried the wizard off of you, tears littering his face as he stared up at you. You leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips before instructing him further, “Up.”

Gale followed you at your words, standing to his feet, you squatted down, palming his er*ct*on through his trousers. His hands grabbed onto your forearms, “(Y/n) thats-”

You pulled down his purple trousers, his length popping forward. Gale tensed above you as you slipped your hand around it, pumping the dry er*ct*on roughly, “lay on your stomach for me?”

With your words you moved away, standing back as you watched Gale. He laid on his stomach propping up on his knees, his ass fully in the air, his buried his head in his face.

“Be quiet, my love, we don't want anyone to stir.”

Gale trembled beneath you at the thought of being out around people during this intimate scene. While he would have truly enjoyed a more private setting, to Gale him getting to be this close to you was enough to see past his fear.

Gale nodded, almost buzzing in excitement, “Yes.”

Moving behind Gale you gently pushed into him, stopping half way and stilling yourself. Gale huffed as he gripped onto the fabric beneath him, “damn-!”

When Gale had felt he was ready, he gave the ground a small tap, “I think I'm ready.

You moved out of Gale watching as he squirmed beneath your slow movements. You moved back into him, stopping half way again and pulling out. This movement continued, once your stomach tightened you forgot that rhythm.

Moving each time faster and deeper, it didn't take Gale long to writhe beneath you, moving his hips against your own. His hands buried in his face, the small sounds of his gasps and groans leaked through.

You shushed Gale, biting onto his neck to hide your own moans. Gale snaked a hand down to pleasure himself while you worked behind him, roughly f*ck*ng into him, Strings of swears leaked from his mouth.

It wasn't long before Gale's hips stuttered back and forth, soon orgasming into his hand. Your grip tightened on his hips as you rocked against him, Gale cried out from the overstimulation creeping up.

A few more thrusts and your sloppy attempt at chasing your climax fill Gale thoroughly, groaning and moving against you when he felt the warm feeling. You pulled out grunted slightly as you fell to lay beside the wizard, looking up at the stars.

“Thank you, (y/n) and sorry.”

“No, Gale I need no apologies. It was nice being close to someone again.”

“May haps we could do it again sometime…” Gale said, turning onto his back.

#bg3 #bg3 gale #baldur's gate iii #gale dekarios #gale of ballsdeep #gale of waterdeep #fanfic #gay #x reader #queer author #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios smut #gale dekarios x reader

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authorbarbie · 2 years

Text

take my hand, now and forever.

pairing. steve harrington x reader.

summary. the battle for hawkins is over and the damage has been done. still reeling from the loss, your heart feels much more bruised than your skin.

warnings. reader uses she/her pronouns, soft steve, hurt/comfort, crying. spoilers for stranger things volume 2.

“Head up, sweetheart. Let me take a look at you.”

The words are spoken so softly in the quiet of the dark bathroom that for a brief moment, you wonder if you simply imagined them. After all, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since the so-called ‘earthquake’ occurred and to say your mind has been scattered would be an understatement.

It’s almost laughable how Hawkins can be violently split into four, leaving the town covered in dark smoke and disarray, and the general masses still manage to find a rational explanation for it.

In reality, there’s nothing rational about what happened. Nothing rational about Eddie’s heroic sacrifice for a town that hated his guts or what happened to poor Max, now resting in a hospital bed with little signs of life remaining. Shit, just the mere thought of them causes the back of your eyes to sting painfully with unshed tears.

You used to have so much faith. Maybe not in deities or some omniscient presence way up in the sky, but in the world. In people. You believed there was a purpose to it all, that you and your friends could tackle just about anything when you came together.

Today, you lost that faith in one fell swoop.

“Come on… Don’t go quiet on me now.” The pads of Steve’s fingers reach to graze the length of your jaw and you’re suddenly grounded back to reality, blinking rapidly to stave off the obvious upset.

You’re both exhausted right down to the bone, still covered in the disgusting dirt and grime of the Upside Down. The ligature marks on Steve’s neck from his previous demobat attack have only been made more prominent by the vines that had wrapped tight around him back at the Creel house — and now, you have your own battle wounds to match.

That’s what he’s so damn insistent on checking over as you both sit on the edge of the bathtub; the bruising that’s beginning to darken harshly along your skin. You swear you can still feel the effects of the choking, like your lungs haven’t yet returned to their regular capacity and are struggling to gain a full breath. Then again, that could also be attributed to the overwhelming guilt and panic that continues to rest upon your shoulders.

“I’ll be fine,” you say feebly. The last thing he needs to do right now is dote over you. “You have it a lot worse than I do.”

“What, you mean this old thing?” He gestures towards his neck before swiping a hand dismissively through the air. “Please, I’ve gotten worse injuries in the past just from play-fighting with you.”

“Are you saying I’m deadlier than a demobat?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

The familiar teasing brings a whisper of a smile to your face and though it’s barely visible in the grand scheme of things, Steve’s heart lifts with hope.

“There she is.” The hand that had been hovering near your neck shifts slightly to cup your cheek, thumb sweeping delicately over the skin, even as a hot tear finally falls from your eye. It’s a miracle he hasn’t broken down yet, too. “It’s okay, I’m here. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“We lost, Steve.” Just three words — three measly goddamn syllables — yet they have the power to open the floodgates before his name has finished leaving your lips. His arms are wrapping around you within seconds, pulling you into the comfort of his lap to hold you close to his chest. You’d done what you could to put on a brave face in front of the kids, but now that they aren’t around, there’s nothing holding you back from breaking down.

You weep for them. For Max and Eddie, a grieving Dustin and a sick to his stomach with worry Lucas. For a devastated Nancy and Robin. For Eleven, wherever she is, and the rest of the Byers family who are blissfully unaware of the night’s events. For Hopper. So much pain and death, and what was it all for?

Hawkins has fallen. You can’t see a way to bounce back from this.

As you cry — the horrible type of crying that has you shaking like a wet dog in his arms — Steve remains quiet and guides your head to rest into the comfortable crook of his neck, the wetness from your lashes dripping onto his skin. He swallows thickly past the growing lump in his own throat. Tonight has taken its toll on everyone and he is no exception, the adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins and keeping him moving slowly waning until he’s finally nothing but a dull husk of stress and panic.

“I’m not very good with words,” he begins softly, voice thick with emotion while he shakily tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear. “I never have been. I mean, let’s face it, I’m not the most poetic or even that smart, so… all I really know how to tell you is that I’m here. I’m here. Things are at an all time low and I’m terrified, too — believe me, I am. But we don’t have to be terrified alone. You hear me? No matter the time of day, no matter what I’m doing, all you have to do is call and I will drop everything to be there.”

Now that, you know, is true. Steve has never lied to you before and he would never start now, especially not when he’s never seen you so utterly broken. For the last few years, through each fight that came your way, he’s been your one constant. The one thing you can always rely on.

“We’re going to get through this,” he continues. “We’ll regroup and figure this out. Max will get better in time and be back to rolling her eyes at us before we know it. But for now… For now, just take my hand and we can pretend like we’re anywhere else but here.”

A beat passes before your hand slips safely into his.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #x reader #mine

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theteasetwrites · 1 year

Text

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 10: Straight Through My Heart

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: war, violence, scary situation, blood and gore, death ❧ Word Count: 9.5k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In this Chapter: Alexandria and the Hilltop's forces besiege the Sanctuary, with three objectives: save the princess, kill Negan, and burn the place to the ground.

❧ A/N: I am so sorry I wasn't able to keep up with the schedule for this chapter, but I have been quite busy with school, work, and life, and this chapter was pretty hard to write because it was so action-heavy, and I am not very good at writing action scenes! So I wanted to make sure I was taking my time and not rushing through it. I really hope you guys like the second to last chapter, and thank you to everyone who waited patiently the last few weeks. I hope it was worth the wait. <3

The sky was stained violet in the twilight that married day to night. It was that strange time of transition, wherein the sun had set beyond the distant hills, leaving only a soft halo of light behind, while the moon still had yet to claim her dominion.

And it was quiet, that uneasy kind of quiet. The kind that did not settle, but hung in the air with a heaviness, threatening at any moment to implode.

But the silence in the Sanctuary provided you with the solitude you needed to do all that you knew was left to do: pray.

You could not pray to God, though, for the last time you had, you knew he hadn’t even bothered to hear you. Perhaps you were a sinner. Well, you knew you were. Everyone was a sinner, and you were no exception. In fact, you had more to answer for than most—you’d lied to your own father, lain with a man to whom you weren’t married, and, worst of all, you’d tried to kill someone.

So why should you pray to God, who would surely not listen anyway?

But you still believed in Heaven. You still believed that Daryl was in Heaven, even if he, too, had been a sinner. You had to believe he was there, where he walked amongst angels in perpetual bliss. So, you prayed not to God, but to him.

Your weak knees wobbled on the cool, rough stone underneath you. A faint stream of the last light from the dusk outside crept in through the tiny crack in the old stone wall. You focused on that crack of light, its dying shimmer reminiscent of the sparkle in his eyes of cobalt blue. Just the thought of him, how you’d never see him again, brought forth the tears.

“Daryl,” you said quietly, squeezing your eyes tight as you sniffled. Lowering your head, you clasped your cold hands together, and held them below your chin, just like a prayer. “I do not know if you can hear me…”

Another sniffle as you shook your head, as if embarrassed by how pitiful you must’ve looked—on your knees in a dark, cold dungeon, wearing only a dirt-stained chemise and a pair of once beautiful pinsons on your aching feet. You’d never felt more ugly than now, not only because you felt filthy, cold, and thin, but because you felt as though all your poise and dignity had been stripped from you, until you were bare. Though you weren’t naked, it very nearly felt like you were.

The lump in your throat could not be held back much longer. With a blubbering burst of tears, you sobbed against your hands, still clasped together in prayer.

“Oh, my love… I—I do not know what to do.” The only comfort you had was in that last little sliver of blue, that crack in the wall. It was darkening now, almost black as night settled in. You still kept your gaze locked on it, that little bit of hope. “I have tried to be strong… I tried to k-kill that bastard, Negan. I did it because I do not want to feel like a prisoner ever again, but… now look where that got me.”

Your cry almost melted into a laugh at your own failure, but even that could not distract you from the grim situation you found yourself in. In fact, as you sat in momentary silence, with only the constant drip… drip… drip of a nearby drain to entertain you, you could only think of him.

Though you knew in your heart of hearts that you could not be to blame for his death, you still felt as though you were the catalyst, the cause of your own woe, and the death of the love that you had just barely begun to feel.

“Most of all… I miss you terribly, and I have not known such pain as this in so many years, to think of how you must have suffered, how you…” You swallowed back a strained gasp, shuddering to think of what had happened to him. “I never wanted you to die for me, Daryl. Never. I only wanted… I just wanted to be free. You set me free, and you did not have to. You did it because you were a good man. You are a good man. You always will be to me. I will always love you.”

Releasing a deep breath that shook you to your fragile core, you wiped your tears with the dirty sleeve of your gown. The pressure made the sensitive bruise around your eye sting. As silence settled in again, you thought of one more thing to say, one more utterance to release into the cool night air, surely never to be heard by anyone but the rats and the maggots that plagued this disgusting prison. Still, if there was a chance that your love could hear you, from wherever he was, you were going to be sure that it would mean something.

“My love,” you spoke again, “I am frightened… and I have often felt alone, before you, but now… I fear there is nothing left, that all that’s left for me is loneliness. All I’d need to believe otherwise is—well, it is silly, but… some kind of sign. Something to show me that there is still hope. If you could, would you show me something? Anything? Please, my sweet knight.”

But there was nothing. Only silence. You shook your head, feeling your tears welling up within you again. After all, what were you expecting? A beam of light, a prophetic vision, an epiphany? “Fool,” you muttered. “He cannot hear you… No one can.”

As you began to rise to your feet, a sudden rumble echoed from somewhere outside the walls. It seemed distant, and quite faint. It was not a common sound you’d grown accustomed to over the past twenty-four hours you’d been locked away, but it was familiar. It reminded you of the cannon fire from that night, when the Saviors attacked Alexandria.

It couldn’t have been that, though. The cannon fire was much louder, and had shaken the—

Boom!

You were sent back to the ground, not on your knees but on your side. The ground shook underneath you, while another round of explosions assaulted your ears. Reaching up to cover them, your eyes shot open when you realized.

“We’re under attack!” a distant voice cried out.

When the shaking subsided, you heard racing footsteps from the floor above you, swords being unsheathed and men shouting at each other, barking orders and arguing in panicked hollers. There were no windows in that dungeon, but there was that sliver—that crack in the stone wall. You lifted yourself in a hurry to cross the cell, closing one eye to look through the jagged fissure.

All you could make out for several moments was opaque blackness. The night had swallowed what was left of day in the time that had passed, but in the distance, coming over a gentle slope, was a sight you could not believe.

First, you saw the flames, the torches that some of the men carried as they rode on horseback. Much further in the distance, you could make out the silhouette of the bombards mounted on carriages, some being loaded by men in full suits of armor, others being pushed forward, making their assault on the keep.

They’d already made it past the castle walls, it seemed, as the battlements were all but destroyed, with flames swallowing the remaining rubble. It was too dark to make out their alliance, but you knew it could not be Alexandria. The kingdom was too weak for such a siege, and you’d never seen such bombards before. No, this must have been some foreign faction… Perhaps they even could have been just as evil as Negan and the Saviors.

You could not allow yourself to have hope of being rescued, but you had asked for a sign. Any sign. Though you were hoping for something more metaphorical, you supposed this would do.

As the armored Friesian’s hooves galloped over a fallen Savior’s writhing body, the knight raised his sword with one hand, and, in one swift motion, sliced the head of another’s clean off before rounding the corner of the keep.

Through his armet, with only two thin oculariums allowing him to see, he could just make out the great entrance, raised high by a flight of imposing stone steps looking over the besieged castle grounds. The armored Prince Jesus and Duke Richard followed closely behind, each upon their own steeds and slaying every Savior that came barreling towards them.

“We must go on foot now!” Jesus shouted over the warfare, men-at-arms all around them, some roaring battlecries, others wailing in agony as they writhed in the bloodied earth, Saviors and Alexandrians and Hilltop soldiers alike. “Onward to the keep! That is where your princess will be, and Negan.”

The three men dismounted before their horses ran off, over the debris from the fallen walls and towards the safety of the woods. Sir Daryl watched them as long as he could see them, before they dissolved into the smoky darkness of the night.

Making their assault on the keep, the three fought through the crowd, knocking men from their horses to rid them of their helms before driving their blades through their faces without too much remorse. These men were all different degrees of evil, but they were all on the same spectrum. They all stole, tortured, killed, raped… There could be no remorse for the Saviors, who had shown no such remorse before.

With each step the knight and his companions get closer, climbing the steep hill towards the entrance to the keep, the other soldiers of Alexandria and Hilltop followed, preparing to assault the keep—Negan’s home.

They were fueled by vengeance, rage at the ravaging of their homes and the murders of their loved ones. In the distance, Daryl could hear the king shouting above the chaos. “Surround them!” he said, wielding his own sword as he fought amongst the common men. “Push on! To the keep!”

But the mass of soldiers was too thick for the battering ram to get through without conflict, and that door was not going to open by itself. More likely than not, there were Saviors on the other side of that door—likely Negan’s most skilled, trusted guards.

Seeing this, the king turned to whistle the signal.

The beast was released from her chains, then, and with a roar, Shiva bounded towards the skirmish, her strong paws pushing the Saviors out of the way before she dug her claws into them, her teeth cutting through the steel of the armor to puncture their flesh. A few Alexandrians and Hilltop fighters were knocked over in the event, but the tiger kept the Saviors down long enough for twelve of the king’s men to run up the steps to the keep as they carried a long, heavy wood beam with the steel head of a ram on its end.

The knight, the duke, and the prince stood by, their swords held high in preparation to fight the Saviors on the other side.

The men with the battering ram heaved several times, each time making the door splinter until finally the ram broke through, destroying the door as the men plowed through, dropping the beam to lift their blades and fight.

Daryl went first in afterwards, with Jesus and Richard following behind. Sure enough, the place was crawling with Saviors, armored and wearing the black and red colors of House Smith.

The knight was faced with a particularly skilled Savior, who advanced towards him in a diagonal lunge, his sword swinging with intent to attack the weakest point—the underarm.

But Daryl was quick, parrying for a moment, only to regain his stability and counter the Savior’s next strike with his own.

Though he had the perfect moment to slash at the briefly exposed skin between his helm and his gorget, instead he seized the opportunity to tackle the man with such force that his weapon clattered to the floor as he pushed him into a hidden alcove beneath the stone staircase, where the Savior fought for freedom from the knight’s attack, but Daryl was using all his strength to keep the man pressed against the wall.

He sheathed his own sword to reach for the misericorde strapped to his leather belt. With the dagger in one hand, he used the other to yank open the visor of the man’s helm, exposing two wide, frightened deep brown eyes.

The knight was young, probably only just promoted from a squire, but Daryl did not have time to care. He’d already killed plenty of young men tonight, and one more wouldn’t make him any less damned.

He lifted the blade to the Savior’s left eye, its narrow tip poised to puncture the young knight’s pupil as though it were the center of a target. In the confined space of his helm, he breathed heavily, the heat of his anger and adrenaline burning fumes in the back of his throat as he spoke three simple words, his voice louder than even he had anticipated, but he had no time to repeat himself: “Where’s the princess?”

“I—I know of no princess.”

A low, muffled growl escaped Daryl’s lips. He pressed his chest harder against that of the Savior, his grip on the dagger becoming at once firm and shaky as irrational rage overcame him. It was as though he was looking Negan in the eye right now. Though, this Savior had a kindness in his eyes, one distinctly different from the evil of Sir Negan’s serpentine stare. Still, there was deceit behind those eyes. Years of interrogating prisoners of war had trained him well, despite the psychological toll it had taken on him. At least he could tell when a man was lying.

“Wrong answer,” he replied through lips tightly drawn into a snarl. He did not need to harm the knight beyond the suffocating weight he inflicted onto the young man’s chest, he only had to narrow his eyes in a freezing stare. “Wanna try again?”

The young knight swallowed hard as his defense began to crumble, though he still feigned ignorance. “Sh-she is here.”

Daryl huffed as he inched his dagger closer, the tip grazing the Savior’s eyelashes as they fluttered in nervous movements. The knight never did have much patience, and now, with your life and the lives of his men at stake, he couldn’t care less about the chivalry which was supposed to dictate his every action and every word, even in battle. In fact, he’d never been chivalrous enough to care about that before. When it came to war, every man was a savage, and Daryl was no exception.

“You’ve got about five seconds to tell me where she is ‘fore you lose your damn eye.”

“No, please!” The Savior caved easily, and it was clear that, despite the fact that Negan trusted him enough to be one of his personal guards, he was not particularly loyal. Not if he surrendered that easily. From Daryl’s knowledge of war, a truly loyal soldier would lose his eye and maybe a few other body parts before giving in. “Last I heard she was locked away in the dungeon. Negan gave orders to put her in there just last night. I haven’t heard anything since, that’s all I know. I swear!”

For a good several moments, Daryl did not remove his blade, his lips snarling at the Savior as he processed his words, and contemplated whether or not to kill him.

He wanted to. No Savior left alive, he repeated in his head like a mantra, but he wasn’t going to be the one to kill him. Something told him not to. Perhaps it was that last bit of gallantry, or perhaps he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“What’s your name?” he asked the young man, words which he’d never thought he’d ask of an enemy. The man seemed confused by his question, so he jolted him against the wall and demanded again, “What’s your name?”

“Alden.”

“Alden… This place is gonna burn to the ground. If you value your life, you’d leave now and never look back.”

The Savior nodded, his eyes softening as Daryl removed his weight and the knife from his face. As Daryl turned to begin his search for you, Alden said one more thing. “Wait!”

The knight turned, half-expecting the man to turn on him, just as a precaution.

But he did not attack him. He only held out a large iron key, dangling from the ring in his hand. “You’ll need this.”

You paced back and forth the length of the cell, wringing your hands nervously before you tried again, though you were sure either no one could hear you, or no one cared.

But you had to try, even if every cell in your body was against it. Death seemed inevitable, and perhaps you truly had nothing more to live for, if the world was as dark and cold as it seemed, but you believed that fortune held you in its favor, somehow. The attack was a sign. A sign from Daryl. That’s what you had to believe. There was no time to stand idly by, you had to act. And the only way to act, in your current position, was to shake those bars that held you in your cell, and to scream at the top of your lungs.

“Hey!” you cried out, your voice drowned out by the sounds of warfare outside and above you. “Hey! What is happening?! Let me out!”

As they neared the dungeon, racing down the winding steps that took them underground, the four men plowed through more Saviors, the ones tasked with guarding the dungeon. Despite being nowhere to be seen, Negan must’ve sent extra defenses to protect the subterranean corridors.

With the help of Jesus and Alden, the duke and the knight tunneled their way through the maze, each corner they turned revealing a new foe, until they found themselves nearing a great iron gate, beyond which Daryl swore he could hear your voice. The fear and confusion pierced his heart like a thorn, though the familiarity in your voice was like the sweetest rose.

“This way!” cried Alden. “Hurry!”

The four men raced towards the gate, with Alden hurriedly turning the key in the lock. Daryl did not hesitate, throwing the door open with a great echo of the squeaking of hinges. He stepped in quickly, and the other three men followed, though Daryl pushed them back.

“Stay out here,” he said. “Keep watch. If anyone followed us—”

“Go,” said the duke. “But hurry.”

For the first time in several hours, you heard the creaking of the opening door, the footsteps that echoed through the dark, winding halls of the dungeon. Though you could not see who they belonged to, you had more fear in your heart than hope.

All you could see beyond the bars of your cell and at the end of the hall was that same glow of that same fire of that same sconce that provided the only light you had in this God forsaken place. As you stepped back, terrified of the slow, heavy footsteps growing increasingly loud, the shadow of the figure played against the stone floor, flickering with the light.

Surely, you were to die tonight, whether by the hands of a Savior or one of the intruders. You could not see any other way for this to end, though you had wished so much for Daryl’s sign to be true.

“Please,” was all you could muster, your voice shaky and delicate, close to shattering like thin, weak glass.

He followed your voice, his vision obscured by his helm that he had forgotten to remove in the haste to locate you. When he turned the corner, finally laying eyes on you, his heart could not bear to waste another moment—he moved as fast as he could in his heavy steel armor, which you could not recognize at all.

It was not the armor of Alexandria, nor of the Saviors. No, it was the Hilltop’s armor, but you’d never seen it in your life.

All you could see was an unfamiliar man in unfamiliar armor hurriedly jimmying the key in the lock of your cell door, while you cowered in the dusty dark corner, frightened. With nowhere left to go, you sank to the floor in defeat, hugging your knees to your chest for some semblance of comfort.

“I—I am not one of them,” you stuttered. “Please.”

But the knight did not respond, himself too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. He stood before you now, frozen for a moment, until he kneeled to face you at your level. Between those thin, rectangular windows built into the cold shiny steel of his helmet, you could see a sparkle of cobalt blue, like the reflection of the sunlight that danced upon gentle waves of the sea on a bright summer’s day. For a split second, you swore you recognized that glimmer, the way it made your stomach do somersaults and your chest swell up with air when you’d forget to breathe properly.

Only now, you were sure it was fear that made your body react that way, not the eyes of your lover, so you thought.

It could not be… And yet, he moved like him, he was built like him, he even very nearly smelled like him—a warm, woody musk. Perhaps it was only your mind playing tricks on you, though, or just wishful thinking.

“Wh-what do you want?” The words were so strangled by the tightness in your barren throat that he could hardly hear you, his helm dulling his senses. “Who are you?”

Just then, Daryl realized how negligent he had been in his stupor. He was still wearing that helmet, and you could not see him for who he was. He could speak, but he feared he’d just cry, and what kind of knight in shining armor would weep before his beloved lady?

You watched with bated breath as the knight lowered his head, his gauntleted hands rising up to either side of his helm. It took some effort to pull the thing off, with it the linen padding and chain mail that protected his head. Left behind was only a curtain of long, shoulder-length hair, chestnut in hue, with subtle streaks of sun-kissed brown and ashy flaxen laced throughout.

His head still hung, you could not quite make out his face, as it was shrouded in sinuous ripples of hair that so much reminded you of Daryl, but you could not let your mind wander into irrational fantasies of seeing him again, though it was tempting to do so.

With a drag of his hand, he pushed back the hair that hung over his forehead, then lifted his gaze to meet yours, his face blotched with blackish-gray ash and gunpowder from the cannon fire that he’d fought through to get to you.

But it was not dark enough to disguise him, his features clear as day. Gentle, deep-set eyes of blue shone brighter now without the obscurity of his helm. A short, rounded nose of button shape sat above a pair of panting lips. They were not plump, nor exceptionally thin—there was a softness to them. Around those lips, a smattering of a thin layer of facial hairs, which faded into high cheekbones, defined just enough to bring shape to the otherwise soft curves of his face.

The part of him that made you shudder, though, was the long, reddish scar that split above and below his left eye. You’d traced that scar over in your mind a thousand times, recreated it to perfection whenever the image of your knight’s visage lulled you to sleep in the comfort of your warm feather bed.

Could it be some cruel trick, some strange sorcery, some facsimile that you’d conjured up in your troubled mind? Or perhaps, and most mercifully, you were dead, too, and this image was an angel sent to carry you into Heaven… Though you knew you were not bound for such a place. No, he was real. You could feel it.

But you could not believe it, not until you touched him, reaching out to hold his ashy cheeks in both of your hands as you leaned closer to him, feeling the heat of his body which you once thought was cold and lifeless. Yet here he was, alive, his heart beating fiercely, as though it yearned to tear itself from his chest and his armor and bury itself next to yours, where it belonged.

“Daryl?”

When he spoke your name, you could not keep yourself from him much longer, your head dizzy with shock and your heart fragile with the sudden break away from grief and utter despair. Your body melted into his arms, your cheek held firm against the cool hard steel of his pauldron as your tears began to puddle on the surface.

There were no words between you for a while, only the sound of your gentle cries against his shoulder, and the heavy breaths he panted out as his lips gently grazed your neck, one hand supporting your back while the other tangled in your hair.

But you could not keep yourself from lifting your head up from his shoulder, letting your eyes dart frantically all over his face. Despite your tears, your lips curled into a smile, with something between a laugh and a cry escaping between sighs.

He could not handle the separation, though. His eyes squeezed shut, he leaned forward to touch your forehead with his, then the tips of your noses were stuck together like glue, your lips tickling each other’s in featherlight grazes as your breathing synced and your heartbeats seemed to create a harmony from their natural rhythms. Of course, you could not hear it, but you both felt it, deep in your souls.

“I thought you were…” Hesitation to even speak of the possibility of his death stopped you from continuing, your voice instead softening into a teary sigh, the breath of which he felt on his trembling lips.

Just the sound of your voice had him in pieces, crumbling like a dried leaf in the palm of your hand, the hand which he held in his, his grip firm but so gentle. And in his arms, you were trembling, cold and tired and hanging onto him as though he was an apparition that could dissolve at any moment, and after everything you had seen, you feared that could be true.

“Are you real?” you whispered, still surrounded by him and his corporeal presence. “Am I dreaming, or are you really my knight, my Daryl?”

“I am real… I am your knight, and I am gonna get you out of here.” Now, he pulled away, the reality of the situation setting in, but his gaze was set on the purple swelling of skin around your right eye. Though you tried to lower your head, as if to hide it from him, he lifted your chin up with his armored hand. Tears trickled down your cheeks, squeezed out as you closed your eyes.

A burning rage took him over then, that puffy, bruised flesh striking him like lightning that set him ablaze. As he examined you, you swore you saw his top lip twitch into a snarl. The anger was not at you, of course, but at the mark of your assault, and the hand which had committed it.

“He did this?” he asked. “He hurt you?” You had not known such intensity in his voice, or such a menacing fire of fury behind his eyes. Underlying it all, though, was concern. Concern for you. His soothing touch as he stroked up and down your arms proved that. “Did he touch you?”

Though a part of you wanted to lie, to forget about Negan and everything you’d gone through, you could not lie to him, not your love.

“H-he… Yes.”

You did not have to say more.

“I’ll kill him. Right now. Son of a bitch is a dead man.” He’d stood to his feet now, with you still clinging to him, and his hands still holding onto your arms as you shook your head. You could not risk losing him again. You’d already gone through the pain of losing him once, and now that you knew that pain, you could never go through it again.

“No, my love. He is not worth risking your life, not again.”

Of course, he knew you were right—your safety was more important than his desire to kill Negan, and right now, in the catacombs of the Sanctuary, you were anything but safe. His priority now was getting you as far away from Negan and the Saviors as possible, and just hope to God that whoever found Negan killed him slowly, because that’s what he deserved for laying a hand on you.

At the very least, he’d see that you’d never be hurt again so long as he could help it. Pulling his dagger from his belt, he held it by the blade to offer you the handle. “Take this,” he said. You took the misericorde with a shaky, tired hand.

Before you could speak, the duke’s voice called out: “Let’s go!” he cried. “Now!”

There was no time to even consider it. Daryl took your hand, leaving behind his helm in a hurry to lead you out of the dungeon. You were greeted by the three other men, two of which you had never seen before, one of whom was dressed in Savior armor.

But before you could even ask, the Savior led the way down the cavernous tunnels below the Sanctuary, where footsteps and screams and sounds of cannon fire echoed through the old, winding passageways.

“There’s an escape route through here!” said Sir Alden, pointing further down the underground tunnel, leading into darkness. “It opens into the woods!”

The Saviors, though, were following not far behind, a squadron of them rounding the corner to see the prince, the duke, the knight, the traitor, and the princess, all momentarily frozen to face the dilemma: either stay and fight them off, or keep running until you reached the other side. Either way, they would have to fight at some point.

One strong hand pushing you back behind him, the knight withdrew his sword, as did the other men, standing firm against the Saviors, but Prince Jesus had another plan.

“Go,” he said. “We’ll keep them busy, you get the princess to safety.”

Daryl hesitated, looking between you and the prince, whose sword was about to strike one of oncoming attackers. “Go!” he called out, still feeling the knight’s presence. It was not honorable to leave an ally to battle alone, but then, it was even more dishonorable to put a princess in danger.

With only a few more moments’ hesitation, the knight took your hand, spinning you around to pull you further down the tunnel, into darkness.

There was hardly a flash of light to guide you, but somewhere in the distance, a sliver of bright moonlight crept underneath the iron door that surely led out into the woods outside, far from the cannon fire and bloodshed.

At length, you reached the exit, the knight only letting go of your hand to lift the bar that kept the door sealed from the outside, and to then break the link of the chain lock with the steel of his armor. When the door was thrown open, a gentle, cool breeze awakened you, into the relative peace of the quiet sylvan glade.

You could only double over for a moment, panting heavily as Daryl closed the door behind you. When you felt his arms lifting you up, you stood upright, falling into his embrace.

“We’ve got to keep movin’,” he panted, his armor weighing him down and forcing his breath to escape him more strongly. “Further we get the better… The horses aren’t far from here.”

Beyond the gentle slope of a hill, you could see the Sanctuary—plumes of gray smoke illuminating the crumbling parapets and the burning towers that once had stood tall and formidable. Even now, you could faintly hear the voice of your father, commanding the cannons to release more fire upon whatever rubble was left behind. The forces of Alexandria and the Hilltop did not retreat, not even now, but kept pushing, with the intent of killing every armored Savior man big enough to carry a sword.

Frozen in fear, you were shaken by Daryl’s hands on your shoulders, his touch reminding you where you were, and that you were alive. Free. It was not unlike the feeling you had when you escaped through the tunnels that first time, stepping out into these same woods.

He spoke your name, drawing your attention to him. Wordlessly, you let him guide you, his arm wrapped around you as he practically held half your weight to move you with him. Somewhere in the darkness, you’d lost your slippers. Once you’d relished in the feeling of being barefoot in these woods, but now, your feet were tired, soar, and stinging with cuts from the sharp twigs that your soft soles dragged over.

But his strength kept you upright, though gravity seemed to be working against you. Just for one moment you wished to stop, to catch your breath and to rest your poor, lacerated feet. “Daryl,” you said. “I—I must stop. Just for a moment.”

He felt your weight begin to sag as he nearly lost his grip on your waist, but he was quick to set you down upon a fallen log, coated with overgrown moss nearly soft enough to feel like some sort of cushion. It was a welcome relief as you struggled to stay sitting upright, despite your desire to lay down and sleep for an eternity or two.

“Let me see,” said Daryl, lifting your foot by your heel to examine the sole. If you’d been more alert, you’d have been more embarrassed for him to see the state of your feet, bloodied and feeling as though they had been whittled down to the bone. “I will carry you… We can’t tarry long.”

“Just… just a moment, please.”

The pain in your voice carved a new fissure in his heart, your hand clinging to his shoulder, the other gripped tight around the knife at your side as you strained to control your tears. Though you screwed your eyes shut with the tension of your pain, the gentle feeling of his forehead against yours forced them to flutter open, his face a welcome relief from the agony that plagued your sore, tired body.

It occurred to you again that he was alive, real, that this wasn’t some kind of strange dream. Or maybe it was. You could not tell, with the hazy glow around him as your tired eyes struggled to focus on his visage. “Daryl…”

All pain melted away for a moment as you lifted your hands to feel the warmth of his cheeks. You could feel his smile, both in the lift of his face and the depths of your soul, which you were sure now was tied unbreakably to his, for he was alive, and so were you.

“I love you,” was all you could say, with so much more fervor and earnestness and purity than you had before, to anyone. You said it once more, this time through a weak laugh that made your voice tremble in delirious glee: “I love you.”

He did not need to reply in words—his soft, featherlight kiss conveyed more than words ever could. It was more coherent, more potent, more true. Your lips conformed to the gentle contours of his as you leaned forward, fully immersed in him and his love, his warmth embracing you like two strong arms of burning hearthfire. It was not an impassioned kiss, but one of comfort, reassurance, and the truest kind of love.

As he pulled away, you ached to feel his lips once more, but his eyes entranced you. Even in just the light of the full moon, you could still see that crisp blue, enveloping you in his longing.

“I never stopped thinking of you,” he said.

“Nor did I… Every second I was in that horrible place felt like the world ending all over again. All I wanted was to hear your voice again.”

On his knees before you, he felt like a pilgrim at the altar of his Goddess, to whom he promised eternal worship and sacrifice—the only divinity he devoted himself to, the only saint worth sanctifying, the only idol he held to such exaltation that he would gladly be nailed to a cross in sacrifice for Her and Her alone. In the temple of your body, he felt your heartbeat against his chest, even beyond the plate of armor that separated him from you. At least, he swore he could. How he missed that feeling.

“I’m here now, princess… And I love you.”

For a while, the space between you seemed to be the entirety of the universe, the center of it all right where your chests met, where your hearts beat. In the bliss of the silent, cool night air, you smiled. “Oh, my sweet knight.”

But the peaceful darkness was broken by the harsh glow of a flame, creeping into your line of vision despite all your focus concentrated on the man before you. Behind him, a figure was silhouetted by the light, moving between the trees on the edge of the forest.

It was a figure you knew well.

Tall, lean, almost slithering, but much too bold for that—he moved with more arrogance. It was more like a saunter, but with an unmistakable rage in his heavy, ominously slow step.

Daryl felt the presence, shooting up from his knees to withdraw his sword, his body shielding you from whatever danger lurked. The minute he saw his face, that wide, chortling grin, a strange feeling overcame him. Though it was mostly abject fury, there was a hint of satisfaction, as though the perfect opportunity had befallen him.

Bloodlust. He’d felt it before, but never like this. Never before did he have such a resolute desire to kill a man, and now the man was before him, he did not have to wish that he could’ve been able to kill Negan himself. He was right there, and just as he knew he would the minute that vile man set his filthy snake eyes on you, he was going to kill him.

There was no question, no hesitation, no other option. Daryl would have his head for taking you from him, for hurting you, for even looking at you.

In Negan’s hand was the lit torch from which the light had come. In the other, a sword. He was not heavily armored, only protected by a breastplate and loose chain mail draping over his arms, but the way he glowered at Daryl now, his smile becoming more devious and sinister by the second, you knew he was here to fight.

With your knife behind your back, you stood to your feet, positioning yourself so you were nearly alongside Daryl, but he quickly moved in front of you, shielding you from the presence of Negan.

But beyond his shoulder, you could still see the bitterness in his gaze as he approached, sauntering as he swung his sword by his legs.

“Daryl, I presume?”

For the first time in his life, he made sure that his title was honored. “Sir Daryl.”

Negan’s eyes widened in amusement and faux impress. “Pardon my inelegance… Sir Daryl, I believe you have taken something from me. Something that belongs to me.”

Behind your snarl was a momentary lapse of fear, only vanquished by smoldering anger and hatred. To think of any universe in which you belonged to that man was nothing short of abject horror. You only hoped that such a universe could never exist. Before you could think about it too long, Negan added another few words to his vile declarations.

“And I want it back.”

The it in question was you, of course, and the insinuation that you were some kind of object to be passed around only fueled Daryl with more hatred than his heart could stand. Another word from that man might have been fatal to the both of them.

“You’ll die first,” he said.

Negan let out a hearty chuckle, underscored by a biting bitterness that cut through the knight’s armor, reminding him of the danger he was up against. Daryl might’ve been a good fighter, but surely Sir Negan was no amateur. He had been knighted once, after all, and he could not have made it to his position as a leader without some battle prowess. It was evident in the way he walked, his sword now held high in both hands, the torch he once carried thrown haphazardly to the dirt and illuminating the scene with the hellish glow of an orange flame.

“Are you challenging me to a duel, knight?”

“No,” replied Daryl, swinging his sword upright with impressive swiftness and skill. “I won't duel a dishonorable knight… But I am going to kill you.”

As Negan held back another insufferable chuckle, you stood to your bare feet, one hand still holding the knife behind your back, the other upon the knight’s shoulder, as if to pull him away, but he was planted firmly. In fact, he nearly lunged towards the other man, if it weren’t for your touch.

“Daryl, you do not have to fight him,” you said under your breath, your concern not for the other man, but for the wellbeing of Daryl. You had already believed him to be dead just an hour ago, and you did not possess the strength to face that reality again. “He is weak now. The Sanctuary has fallen… He has nothing. He cannot take me again.”

But that was not good enough for him.

Negan was ordered to be killed on sight, and there was no way in Hell he would let that man go with his head still intact. Not after what he had done. The evidence was on your face as he looked back at you, his sight beginning to practically blur with rage. No, it did not matter how powerless Negan was now. All that mattered was ridding the air of his filthy stench.

“Princess,” Negan said, a bite to his teasing voice that made the bruised flesh around your eye sting. “When I kill your useless knight, you come with me.” There was a crazed desperation in his eyes, and a frantic adrenaline running through his veins until they bulged in his sweat-shined forehead.

The powerlessness came rushing back, the feeling that you were nothing but property to be claimed by whichever powerful man came along and made his decree. But that would never happen again, not anymore.

You’d spent too long feeling trapped in a world that you had no control over, like a flimsy paper doll subject to the whims of a careless child. Though there was not much you could do now, there was the reassurance that you were ultimately in control of your own destiny—that you were free.

And Daryl had freed you. Though you had the power in you all along, his love had changed you. It made you stronger, and now you stood in the face of that which threatened your destiny. With whatever power was within you, you would protect that destiny, and that destiny was him.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Daryl said to you, his voice low and rumbling with the earthquake of fury that rose inside of him. There was nothing else to say, only a steady look cutting through the heavy air between you. With a nod, you clenched your jaw and straightened your back in an attempt to hold back the fear of losing him again, though above all, you had faith in him.

Only three words fell from your trembling, burning lips: “Yes, you will.”

At length, Daryl stepped forward, while Negan matched his movements to the knight opposite of him. As their swords swung up in unison, the tension between them was broken by their sharp blades cutting through to meet, the sharp, stinging sound of silver crossing silver ringing in your ears as you watched, eyes wide and unblinking for fear of one second changing everything.

There was no fear of going back to Negan now, only the fear of losing Daryl.

But he was a good swordsman—that much you knew. And as he advanced forward diagonally, he met Negan’s next swing with a front guard and a heavy step forward to push the lighter man back with his body weight, then striking again in an attempt to lacerate the exposed skin of his opponent’s neck.

Negan was swift, though, fading backwards only to catch himself with the skill of a trained swordsman. He took a fierce lunge with his sword’s point aimed at the space between Daryl’s breastplate and his underarm, but Daryl blocked the attack with a short guard, his sword held with such force that it propelled Negan’s sword nearly out of his hands.

Daryl’s movements were equally as swift now, his attack coming quickly as he lunged towards Negan with the offensive. He raised his sword high now, coming at the taller man with a window guard that poised his blade just above his own head, the point headed directly for Negan’s eye.

If the strike had hit, you were sure you’d be sick to your stomach to see the steel penetrate his face, blood surely spewing in a geyser as the blade would tunnel through the brain and exit out the back of his head, but Negan was too cunning, once again.

With a pivot, he swiveled himself to the right of Daryl, using his height to his advantage as he turned his sword at an angle, then used the pommel of his hilt to strike at the base of the back of Daryl’s neck, the pain of which elicited a grunt from the man who stumbled forwards.

A fearful gasp escaped your lips, though only rage burned through you, causing you to grip harder on the handle of the dagger you still held behind your back, waiting only for the right moment to strike. You took to studying the man’s weak points��the spots at which his minimal armor allowed for easy access. His back was only draped in chain mail, which you knew to be weaker than steel plate.

And the blade Daryl had given you was incredibly sharp, with its point small enough to penetrate through small crevices and weak spots in armor. If you could get through that chain mail, you might puncture his heart from the back… But he moved so fast, his feet conjuring a whirlwind of dust as he slid to and fro above the dirt ground.

Though Daryl had caught himself before he could fall, he was winded by the hit to his neck. Negan only smiled, swaying his head in arrogant amusement as the knight returned his gaze with a glare.

Had this been a true duel, Negan’s hit would have been unsanctioned, an unfair and unchivalrous move that would have had him disqualified. Daryl should have known, though, that a dishonored knight would not abide by any code, and that the only way he would be able to defeat Negan was to forgo any last shred of chivalry he could spare.

A man of Negan’s ilk did not deserve such a privilege anyway.

“You see, my princess,” Negan called out over his shoulder to you, his eyes never leaving the huffing and puffing knight whose face grew more red and more strained with each second that Negan still breathed. As he spoke he swung his sword in haphazard circles through the air in front of him, a slight chuckle rumbling under his voice. “He’s pathetic, a waste of a good sword. How could your so-called knight keep you safe when he can’t even keep his balance?”

Daryl stood still, momentarily paralyzed by unspeakable anger as sweat soaked through his hair and trickled down the hot skin of his face. Heavy pants and an increasingly frantic heartbeat nearly drowned out the man’s loud, brash voice, but it cut through like a hot knife, scorching his burning skin as his words gouged a little deeper with each stinging utterance.

“Oh, but he could not even protect you when the Dead invaded your kingdom… He couldn’t protect you then, and he sure as hell can’t protect you now.”

The man turned towards you now, peeling his aways away from Daryl to saunter slowly in your direction. You stepped back, eyes wide and lips agape with quick pants. As fear overwhelmed you, you kept your hands behind your back, just waiting for him to get a little closer, though he never did.

Daryl lunged towards him, taking advantage of Negan’s momentary lapse of attention to raise his sword and swing it down just as his opponent turned around. But Negan was quick, retreating with a backwards step and a block that pushed Daryl back too.

And Negan knew what he was doing—weakening Daryl with his words, drawing out his anger to render his technique sloppy and uncoordinated. So he continued, gesturing the tip of his sword towards the knight.

“You know how this ends,” he said. “You know that I’m gonna win… Because people like me, we always win in this world. People who take what they want and get what they want.”

But none of those words meant anything to Daryl, who could not comprehend anything past the smug grin that split Negan’s face, and the boiling of his blood as he grew nearly faint with rage.

Through heavy panting breaths, he spoke without even hearing his own voice: “I said… I’m the one who’s gonna kill you… And I am no liar.”

With a strong footing, he threw himself forward with a grunt so loud that it could have suited as a battlecry. His swing was fueled by pure hatred, to the point that he moved even faster than Negan could deflect this time. It made your heart jump in your chest, watching your knight seem to gain the upper hand again, his sword never relenting and his movements swift enough to dodge every stroke that came his way.

Now, Negan was winded, his long legs seeming to almost shake underneath him as he struggled to keep his body guarded against Daryl’s blade. With a swift advance, calculated yet impassioned by another outburst of anger, he drew Negan’s attention with a false strike, his blade not following through with the swing directed towards his abdomen.

Negan’s right shoulder was effectively exposed now, displayed for just a millisecond directly before Daryl’s eyes. Where his pauldron slipped, loosened by the movement, a sliver of aged leather was revealed between plates of shining black steel. In a split second, he made a hard strike, the edge of his blade slicing through the leather and gouging open the skin of his shoulder.

Negan bellowed deeply, groaning in pain as he swung haphazardly while Daryl faded back, narrowly missing the edge of his blade.

The cut was deep, digging through muscle and ligaments and nearly into bone. If Daryl had swung any harder, his arm might’ve been hanging on only by a thread of blood dripping flesh.

But there was enough strength in his arm still to raise his sword again, barrelling towards Daryl as fast as his anger could carry him. Daryl deflected his strike with a front guard, but the second blow was strong enough to do the unthinkable.

Your eyes widened as a gasp escaped your lips, the edge of his sword cutting through the air as it flew a yard or two away from your knight’s outstretched hand. With nothing to block against Negan’s next move, Daryl was rendered defenseless.

“Daryl!”

The knight had fallen on his back, struggling to return to his feet just as Negan walked over him, planting his muddied boots on each of his wrists to keep him pinned down, despite his fingers flexing in desperation to reach the handle of the sword that lay just inches from reach.

And your heart had dropped to your stomach again, your frantic mind scrambling to figure out what to do. There was that blade in your hands, and perhaps you could… No—not perhaps.

There was no doubt in your mind now what you needed to do, the red cascade of blood beginning to pour over the silver steel of his greaves. Negan’s last swing had been strong enough to slice through the armor, into the flesh of Daryl’s thigh. Without his sword, and without the strength to free himself from underneath Negan’s feet, he could not defend himself against Negan. Even with the wound to his shoulder, he had the upper hand. The final upper hand.

That fear showed itself again—that same confusion and uncertainty that overtook you and made you freeze when that herd closed around him, a feeling which you knew all too well. Now, he was not surrounded by the Dead, but something much more evil: a man whose selfishness and greed trumped any human decency he once might have had.

But you would never feel powerless again. Not when you were in control, and that misericord in your trembling hands could put an end to the fear that had held you in its clutch for a decade. All this time, you thought freedom was in leaving the walls of Alexandria, but it was in something else, too.

Freedom was in putting an end to that which kept you imprisoned in fear.

As you moved forward, your aching, lacerated feet carried you slowly, silently towards the man whose back was turned to you. With your eyes narrowed on a ring of silver in the center of the chain mail draped over his back. Unblinking and barely breathing, you lifted the small blade, trapped in the clutch of your hand beneath your white knuckles.

“You’re the one who’s gonna kill me, huh?” Negan’s head tilted slightly as he watched Daryl struggle to free himself, his face displaying the utter amusement that such a sight afforded him. “Now, I just don’t see that happening… You know, you really shouldn’t come to a duel without a sword.”

With a huff, the knight spat a glob of saliva at Negan. A futile exercise in defiance, but what else was he to do?

“Now, because I am a merciful man,” he continued, the tip of his sword beginning to dig into the skin of Daryl’s neck, just enough to draw a bead of fresh blood onto the already bloodied edge, “I’ll let you make your peace with my princess, whom you so unceremoniously swept away from my castle.”

Without turning completely towards you, he called out your name. “My princess,” he said, “is there anything you’d like to say before I rid your knight of his weary head?”

For a moment, you feared he would turn to see you just inches from him, your knife poised to dig into his back, but just before you lunged forward, you answered him—with the only words you could think to say in response:

“I am not your princess.”

The closeness of your voice widened his eyes, and just before he turned, you’d felt the heaviness of the knife tunneling into his flesh, its sharp tip carving a path straight to his cold, evil heart.

You swore you could even feel it beating, if it had ever beat at all.

Negan stumbled backwards, taking you with him as your hands were still grasped tight around the handle of your dagger.

And the weight was lifted from the knight’s wrists, as Negan’s grip on his own sword faltered and weakened. The blade fell from his hands, but in midair, the knight caught it by its hilt as he leaned up with all his strength.

In just a moment’s time, he swung.

The slice was clean, only a splash of hot blood stinging your cold cheek. Severed with ease, the head flew in midair only for a few moments, landing in the dirt not far from the knight’s fallen sword.

Negan’s headless body sank to the floor, almost with an eerie consciousness, as though even his body insisted to stand his ground until the last possible moment. With only the distant crackling of the torch and the heavy breaths back and forth between you and him, the silence of the night swallowed the tension that had once lingered in the air.

Now there was only relief, and whatever was left of the fear you had began to crumble away.

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