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Salut! I hope my request is not too strange !

Can you write a Achilles x reader where the reader is a minor godess send by Thetis to protect Achilles ? And maybe calm him ? And she start having feelings for him but denied them because she is a godess and he is a mortal ? (Don't write it if it's too weird, and good luck ! Juste wanted to say that i loved your Briseis fic )

Hi!!!

Thank you so much! Your request is perfectly good and something I can very much write.

Partícularly for me, i feel Troy (2004) often replicates the Lord of the Rings films atmosphere of a mythical age that has perished, but is not completely extinguished. I see that in the way the characters speak of the gods or even in the political conflicts. When Agamemnon says " Achilles is the past" what it really feels for me he is saying is " Achilles is the Age of Heroes, and I am the start of recorded history."

For so, I am up to include the mythical elements in my fics. With the exception of Achilles' mom, since we do see her, the greek gods in Troy are kinda like the Valar in LOTR. Not present in sight, but felt in the narrative through actions of the mortal characters if you dig deep enough.

That being said, and forgive me for rambling, this concept is perfect to write a fic about :)

Beyond Duty, Beyond Limits - Achilles x Goddess!Reader

Warnings: Forbidden mortal x inmortal where the inmortal denies herself because she behaves like a guardian. Reader replaces Athena talking on his mind lotr elf-style so he won't kill Agamemnon.

Summary: Enraged by the insults of Agamemnon, Achilles hides in his tent after your divine intervention stopped him from taking a more dangerous course of action. You attempt to bring him calm and an explanation, but he reads in you more than what you can admit.

Note: Dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could have killed the King, but the soft whisper of your voice in his mind stopped the blade. Achilles didn't have much respect for any other inmortal that wasn't his mother, but he learned to recognize you always came to him in behalf of her.

A rankless sea deity under the Nereids had more influence on him than the Olympians themselves. It could be said that them probably shared the impression of Agamemnon seeing a mere slave girl finding the obbedience they couldn't. What they wouldn't consider, imposible for beings of rank as high as them, is that you got results because you came to him as a friend.

His guardian, a friendly voice he could trust what he wouldn't share to his mortal friends and relatives. Someone apart from his mother knowing the deepness of his being. Aware of the fate cornering him, your task was the one of a companion for a hero already sentenced to a brief life. From all of his friends, you were to onlyone who knew his death was near.

Falling for him was the worst possible outcome for you, but fitting curse given Aphrodite played in the trojan side. The damage she couldn't inflict on Athena or Hera, she had unleashed in a lesser deity with no power to face her. At that point you were way beyond duty, beyond limits. Noticing his interest on the priestess have made you jealous of a mortal as you ate your love for the blond-haired hero. Imposible passion for you, destructive if consummated.

Achilles returned to his tent to find you already waiting for him, sitting on his spot on the bed directing him a calm smile. As soon as he got inside, you stood up offering wine you served from his own crater.

" I guessed you would need a drink. "

It landed like a mock and he wasn't in the mood for that.

" It's not wise to seek my company right now."

It made you chuckle, but you insisted taking the drink to his hand.

" I have never been wise, and you are the one finding yourself in need of mine."

He accepted the vase, slightly surprised of the servile attitude you adopted with the gesture. Despite lower in rank than his mother, you were still a deity, and pouring was usually a submissive act of service from the minor gods to the greater ones.

" Must I guess that following your advice was a mistake? ... Maybe I should have killed Agamemnon."

Trying to pretend solemnity, you evoked his greatest goals in hopes of helping him get a glimpse of the bigger scale in the situation.

" And how would history have remembered you then? 'Achilles, the usurper' the man that killed his leader for a woman. "

Only a shade of jealousy escaped from the intentionality of your speech, but it was easy to hide. If you mentioned the woman as a lesser cause, that made sense with your divine nature.

" I would have ended with a tyrant." He replicated and collapsed on his bed after finishing the liquid with one big sip and throwing away the vase, careless for the smashing. " I would have freed us all, greeks and trojans, a savior taken in geat reverence by both."

" You would have been marked as a traitor, you would have lost your honor and everything you fought for." You corrected in return as you paced closer. " Does the niece of Priam justify such great loss? She may be beautifull, but she could be your downfall if you don't proceed with care."

His glance, lost somewhere else untill that comment, got suddenly fixated on you. Anger dissipated for merely an instant, and he smirked with seductive self satisfaction.

" Are you jealous of her? Did you talk to me because you needed to prove you too can stop my blade? "

You endured the accusation with stoic dignity, giving a few steps back with a deadly serious expression.

" You may be beautifull beyond the limits of this Age of Heroes in decline, son of Peleus, but you aren't worth my downfall."

It made him chuckle, shades of skepticism in his semblance to matter he could see you wouldn't discuss.

" I won't fight for Agamemnon: I am going to sit back and watch his downfall. There is a spot reserved for you, If you want to, ... right next to me."

He tapped the side of the surface that served him as bed, playfully indicating you could lay with him if you wanted to do so.

" I thought you would wish to ask me how your mortal is doing, and If I can keep an eye on her for you." You carried on with the formal topic, refusing to follow his game. " Agamemnon is terrified of the effect she had on you: he may try to use her for bargain, but I doubt he would dare to hurt her by himself."

Your words have tranquilized at least the most inminent of his concerns. If the wound in his pride was his greatest pain, fear to feel like he was powerlessly abandoning that girl to be raped by the commander in chief was the actual sensitive aspect troubling him.

" Briseis prays more than me, she genuinely believes your kind would help her. I think right now she probably deserves your help more than I do. "

That selflessness, so rare to find in him, was melting your heart.

" I will not leave untill we have found your calm, then I will see what I can do without overstepping the territory of Apollo ... Who, by the way, must be very furious after you challenged him at the gates of his temple. "

Remembrance of his biggest act of hubris to the date got from him a taunting, purposedly innocent-looking smile.

" Being my inmortal guardian must be a terrible task, like the ironic punishment through a service impossible to achieve one gets in the Underworld after failing in life. "

The tease was about how very much exasperating he could get to be from your point of view as someone in charge of protecting him from the consecuencies of his misguided actions. Although sometimes it could be hard, that wasn't precisely the biggest challenge for you.

You smirked in return, ready to release a properly delivered sample of your denied affections.

" I accomplish it with patience, ... and love."

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I’m noticing an increase in new fic writers on AO3 who…uh…mayy not know how to format their fics correctly..so here is a quick and VERY important tip

Using a random fic of mine as example..

The left example: ✅✅✅

The right example: ❌❌❌

Idk how many times I’ve read a good fic summary and been so excited to read before clicking on it and being met with an ugly wall of text. When I see a huge text brick with zero full line breaks my eyes blur and I just siiiigh bc either I click out immediately or I grin and bear it…it’s insufferable!

If a new character speaks, you need a line break. If you notice a paragraph is becoming too large, go ahead and make a line break and/or maybe reconfigure the paragraph to flow better. I’m not a pro writer or even a huge fic writer but…please…ty…

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I’m Your Flirt

Request: Hey! Do you think you could do something along the lines, where the reader is in the hospital because she had an accident and dean is her nurse and the reader is flirting a lot with him and they fall in love?

Pairing: Nurse!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, injury

A/N: I like this happy, cute, ray of sunshine Dean…

Afficher davantage

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You for you (Achilles edition)

Achilles x F!reader

Reader is a healer and this is once more very self indulgent.

mentions of Achilles killing a guy.

Achilles would never get used to how soft you were and he loved it.

But he hated how you would never let him repay you for anything in the way he was best.

You wouldn’t let him threaten the people that were rude when you cared for their injury's and illnesses, you wouldn’t let him kill for you and you wouldn’t let him physically fight for you.

You appreciate him standing up for you but it upset you to know that the man you loved, who touched you so tenderly, had killed so many people with the hands that held yours with great love and tender care.

He had gone against your wishes that day, and you were mad. He had come into your tent, flaunting his kill and the blood he now sported as if it were a badge of honor.

Or at least, he had been.

Now he was staring at you, jaw dropped in shock as you, his one true love, was ignoring him. One of your coworkers had told you what he had done and it upset you for two reasons.

One, because he went against your wishes and two, because you needed to prove your point that not everyone wanted him because he was a killing machine.

When you finally looked at him, he had his arms crossed and was pouting. He lights up when you finally look at him, stepping forwards to defend himself. “He insulted your honor, he said you were with me only for my protection.” You sigh and shake your head. “You made him look right, my love. And you went against what I specifically asked of you.”

You place down your task and turn towards him fully. “I am not with you because of your prowess in battle, or because of your ability to keep me safe.” You finally raise your arms, beckoning him towards you. He moves swiftly, arms wrapped around your waist. “I am with you because you love me, because you talk to me, and because you listen to me.”

He grunted in your neck. “I’ll do better at that, darling.” He pulls back and places his lips on yours, lovingly rubbing your back as his mouth claims yours.

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sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

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The Missing Bolt

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Daryl's looking for a missing arrow, that he can't find, unaware that reader has taken it to keep with her while he's gone on a run. Inspired by a request with the sentence "One of Daryl's bolts was missing." Shy Daryl and even shyer reader.

One of Daryl’s crossbow bolts was missing, and he was quite puzzled about it.

It was not a mistake, he’d counted them twice, he knew how many bolts he had, and in case he may be mistaken, the missing bolt was not one of his handmade ones, but one of the scarce, store-made bolts that Glenn and he had found on a particularly lucky run.

He’d got only three of those, and he’d been saving them for a run in which he may need something more sturdy, even though his handmade bolts seemed to have been working rather nicely for now, if he may say so himself.

But now, the box where he kept his spare bolts in the armory had only two of those, and so, one was missing, there was no mistaking it.

Daryl blinked at the two bolts on his hand, a frown on his face…it didn’t make sense…nobody else had a weapon that needed bolts, so who’d take it? And it wasn’t like a piece of chocolate or a snack that someone may be tempted to take it was a crossbow bolt that nobody needed.

Daryl knew he’d not misplaced it, he hadn’t taken those bolts out of the box for anything, not until now that he was about to pack for the next run, which would be in a couple of days. Glenn and Maggie had been planning it for a long while, it’d be a long run, covering several places, in the hopes of finding anything and everything they may need for gearing the prison for a long winter.

So, where the hell was the bolt?

Even if he felt stupid doing so, since he was sure he had not misplaced it, Daryl went back to checking his cell and every other place where he may have lost the bolt, while also asking everyone around if they had seen it or taken it, and feeling pretty much like a fool while doing so.

*

Several hours later, Daryl was sitting down on the bed of his cell, the bolt was still missing, and he was still feeling more than confused about the whole thing.

He may even begin to wonder if he was losing his mind or some shit, but a knock on his door distracted him from his thoughts.

Looking up from the ground, his eyes found Y/N on the cell’s door, his frown deepening as he took in how nervous she seemed. Was there something wrong now? 

“Hey,” he greeted. “Ya okay?”

“Yeah, hi…yeah, fine…” Y/N stammered, which did nothing to ease Daryl’s concerns.

“Ya sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, just…uh…” Y/N stammered again and then she seemed to take a deep breath as if bracing herself…what the hell was going on. “I, uh…I heard you were looking for this…”

Walking in, she lifted her hand, showing Daryl’s missing bolt.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, taken a bit by surprise…he’d looked for that bolt everywhere.  He walked the couple of steps that separated him from Y/N, who for some reason was still not looking at him, to take the arrow from her hand. “Where did ya find it?” 

“I, uh…” Y/N took another deep breath, head shaking almost imperceptibly, eyes still on the ground. “I had it on my cell.”

Well, he hadn’t checked there, but why would he? Y/N didn’t have a crossbow or any use for one of his arrows, and she was not a thief, not that the arrow was worth stealing for her…Daryl’s confusion just grew more.

“The hell ya wanted it for?” He was not angry, not at all, just confused, but Y/N couldn’t know that, and it sounded like he’d snapped at her, making her flinch, but Daryl was too baffled to apologize, still wondering what was going on and if the day could get any weirder.

“I…nothing…just…” Y/N walked backward out of the cell as if she couldn’t wait to run away, and Daryl’s confusion only grew when he saw that Y/N seemed about to cry, which, for some reason, made him almost feel like panicking. 

“Nothing…I…I’m sorry…I’m sorry I took it…I’m sorry I didn’t ask…I, uh…you’d got many, I thought…” She shrugged, swallowing hard. “Thought you wouldn’t need it or notice it,” she murmured. “I’m sorry…”

“Y/N, no, I…didn’t mean…” Now Daryl was the one stumbling over his words, but he had no idea of what was going on, he just knew that he hated to see Y/N like that, and he hated even more that it seemed he was the cause of it. “Ya, uh…need it for somethin’?” 

He had no freaking clue why Y/N might want or need an arrow, but Daryl felt like he’d give her all of his arrows if it meant he didn’t have to see her cry.

Y/N shook her head, not looking at him, and she seemed about to flee, so Daryl’s hand moved to rest on her arm to stop her, he hadn’t really meant to do it, but he couldn’t stand to see Y/N so upset.

“Hey…wait…” His voice was as soft as the hand on her arm, Daryl tried his best to be gentle even if he was confused about what was going on, but he knew he didn’t want to make things worse, upset Y/N more, make her think that he was angry or upset with her. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Y/N still seemed like she wanted to run away, but she didn’t, looking at Daryl’s hand on her arm as if it were keeping her in place, even if he wasn’t really holding her arm and she could have moved if she wanted to.

You looked from his hand to the ground, and then up at his confused, pretty blue eyes that were silently asking you to tell him what was going on, just for a second, before your gaze dropped down to the floor again, and you took a deep breath, almost as if bracing yourself for some kind of danger that Daryl couldn’t see.

“I, uh…” You stammered again, voice low, eyes cast down. “You…you’re going to that run, tomorrow…They’re saying it’s going to be a long one, so I, uh…I…I took one of your arrows, for, uh…like, if I…to, uh” you fought with your words. “To, uh…remember you, while you are away…” You whispered, looking almost like you were forcing the words out. “No…not that I need to look at an arrow for that, but, uh…I just…I…”

You gave up on words, shaking your head as you swallowed hard, your eyes wet, and before Daryl could do or say anything, you were rushing away.

Daryl wasn’t sure if he should follow you or not. He knew he hated to see you upset like that, he knew he wanted to make you feel better, but he wasn’t sure how, and he was unable to move anyway, feeling frozen in place, his mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions.

Y/N…she’d taken one of his arrows to keep with her while he was away, to remember him, she’d said so herself, and it didn’t look at all like she was lying or playing something…why’d she do that…did it mean…or it didn’t…and what if it did…

Daryl felt almost dizzy, his face felt like it was burning, heat rushing to it, while twirls seemed to dance in his belly at the same time that something clenched his gut, whether it was anxiety or excitement he wasn’t sure, and his heart seemed to be doing its own, odd thing too.

He had no clue of how he felt, or of what he felt, neither had he any idea of what to do, not that he could do anything, he was still frozen in place, in fear or in something else, Daryl didn’t know, as he tried to make sense of the storm of feelings washing over him, drowning him almost, but the thought of you with his keepsake arrow seemed to keep him afloat, sparking something in his belly, a warm feeling spreading through him…

*

It was so early in the morning that the sun was just starting to rise, barely visible in the clearing sky, but you’d volunteered with a couple of others to help and get everything ready for the people going on the run today, including breakfasts.

You’d been embarrassed at the idea of seeing Daryl, you were mortified after the events of the day before, ashamed…but you had already committed, and so you went to help anyway. 

You did bump into him a couple of times, but he didn’t say anything to you…he barely even looked at you, eyes cast down, keeping his distance. He seemed shy and skittish like you, even if you knew it was you the one who’d made a fool out of herself in front of him.

Maybe, in your foolishness, you’d managed to ruin your relationship with Daryl…maybe now he’d be too embarrassed to be around you, maybe he’d think you were a fool, maybe he felt uncomfortable being your friend now…

The idea made you want to cry and you could feel your eyes burning, tears threatening to fall, so as soon as you could, you rushed back into your cell.

You hadn’t even walked in when you saw it, the arrow placed on your pillow.

You froze for a second, puzzled, almost wondering if you were seeing things, and then you rushed to pick it up, looking at the arrow as if you were almost expecting it to come alive.

It was one of Daryl’s, you knew it not only because nobody else used bolts, but also because you recognized it as one of his handmade arrows…had he left it there, for you?

Maybe somebody else had? Somebody who knew what you had done, and who was trying to take the piss at you…but you couldn’t think of anyone who’d be mean enough. It’d to be Daryl…and you were totally certain he’d never do it to laugh at you.

So, why did he leave you one of his arrows? It’s for what you’d forced yourself to tell him, that you’d taken one to keep with you while he was away, to remember him?  Why did you tell him that, you’d embarrassed yourself to no end…but maybe, it was why Daryl had left you an arrow? Maybe it had meant something to him?

Maybe he was just being nice…maybe he’d left you that arrow out of pity…maybe…

You shook your head, letting out a sigh…It’d be days until Daryl were back and you could ask him, though you were sure you were not going to dare, and you were sure too that, besides worrying about him coming back safe, you were going to spend those days overthinking that arrow gesture…

*

Days seemed to pass slower and slower, but finally, the group was back.

You were happy and relieved to see them back and safe, and you knew you should go greet them and help to sort the stuff they’d brought back, but when you caught sight of Daryl parking his bike, all your embarrassment at your last conversation with him came back, clenching at your gut.

There were enough people helping already, and so you retreated back to the prison and your cell before Daryl could see you…you didn’t feel ready to face him yet.

You hadn’t been in your cell for long, though, sitting in your bed, back against the wall and legs dangling at the side of the bed, trying to read a book but only looking at the same page again and again, distracted with thoughts of Daryl, when you heard a knock on your cell door, finding the archer himself there.

It took you by surprise, the embarrassment and nerves that were already clenching your belly got worse, and you could do nothing but stare at Daryl…you knew you had to face him at some point, but you didn’t feel ready yet, you still felt like a fool, you didn’t know what to say, what to do…

Daryl seemed shy too, looking at you, seeming unsure of what to do when you did nothing, but he took a step into your cell.

“Hey,” he greeted and you knew you had to say something, but couldn’t. Luckily, Daryl didn’t seem annoyed by your lack of response, and he kept speaking, no matter how shy he seemed. “I, uh…brought ya this…”

Taking something out of his pocket, Daryl showed you your favorite snack. Now you were even more taken aback, you didn’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. 

Daryl had brought you your favorite snack from the run, came to your cell to give it to you… Nerves were still clenching your belly, but something else seemed to dance in it now too, twirling, while your heart did what almost felt like some sort of hop…

Did this and the arrow meant…something…or nothing..or were you reading too much into it…you couldn’t stop the onslaught of emotions, though, even if on the outside you were still silent and unmoving.

Daryl’s brows furrowed at your silence, lowering his hand and looking from you to the snack on his hand as if he were second-guessing himself, and so you forced yourself to speak.

“Thank you,” you choked out, though you didn’t get up to take the snack, and Daryl gave you a nod and a shrug, looking down, seeming awkward and shy. “I uh…I’m glad you’re back and uh…that you’re okay…”

Daryl just nodded again, looking at you and then at the ground again. “Yeah, uh…nobody’s hurt and we got all the stuff Glenn wanted, so…yeah, it was good…” 

He too sounded so awkward…the fear of having messed things up between you two, of now Daryl being awkward around you, overcame you again, taking over the butterflies that him bringing your favorite snack had dancing in your belly.

“Daryl, uh…” You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, and you reached to take the arrow that you had on your pillow. “Thank you for this too…” It came out almost like just a whisper, but at least you’d said it. Daryl just nodded, looking down shily. “If, uh…if you need it…”

Daryl shook his head. “Keep it.”

“Okay…” Everything felt so awkward…you looked down at your hands as you fidgeted with the arrow. “Thank you, and, uh…I…I’m sorry about…well, about the last time we spoke…if I, uh…If I made you uncomfortable…If I made things awkward…if what…what I did…taking your arrow without asking…and…and what I said…if…”

You were struggling with your words, with your emotions, so caught up in your head, in your shyness and anxiety, in all those feelings flooding you, that you didn’t notice Daryl walking closer until he was right in front of you.

“Did, uh…” When you heard Daryl’s voice, so close, you looked up, finding him looking down at you as you were still sitting on your bed. “Did ya mean it? What ya said, that day?” He whispered, fingers twitching, nervous, but he didn’t look away from you.

You swallowed hard, nervous, shy, still anxious and fearful, and yet, something sparkled in your belly at Daryl’s words, at the way he was looking at you…

You nodded, and you couldn’t stop your shyness from making you try to look down, but then, Daryl’s hand was stopping you from doing so, shy fingers reaching to gently touch your cheek, his knuckles stopping under your jaw, keeping your face lifted to look at you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, your shyness urging you to pull back, to look down, but you couldn’t, as if those dark, deep blue eyes that you couldn’t read, had frozen you in place, nervous twirls dancing in your belly…

You knew you should do something, say something, but you couldn’t. Confused, mixed feelings were washing over you, and you wondered what Daryl was thinking, you couldn’t read his face and he was not saying anything either…

Then, he was leaning down towards you, still silent, and for a second, you wondered if he was about to kiss you, your heart doing a summersault, but then, Daryl was leaning his forehead on yours.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling as if you were melting and floating at the same time, your heart was dancing on a similar pattern to the butterflies in your belly, but you were still as silent as Daryl.

He stood like that for a moment before pulling back, but he didn’t move far, in fact, he moved closer, so you could feel his warmth radiating through his clothes, smell the scent of leather, sweat, motor oil, and cigarette smoke lingering on him, as Daryl, still without a word, bent down to hide his face on your shoulder.

You felt his warm breath against the skin of your neck, making your heart and the twirls in your belly dance even more. Your arms seemed to move by themselves, without overthinking it for once, to wrap around him, to hold him gently, and then his arms were around you too.

You both stayed like that, silent, eyes closed, just hearing each other's breath and feeling each other's warmth, you didn’t know for how long…

You didn’t want to speak, you didn’t want to move, afraid of ruining the moment, but at the same time, you wanted to, you knew you should…Speaking took you almost more courage than charging against walkers, but finally, you did.

“Daryl…” You whispered, voice so low you weren’t sure he’d hear you.

“Hmm,” His humming against your shoulder was his only answer.

He’d seemed to relax as he leaned against you, but you thought you felt him tense ever so slightly at the sound of your voice calling his name. You weren’t sure if you may have imagined it or not, and it almost discouraged you from speaking again, but you gathered your courage to keep going.

“Daryl, you, uh… you know why I took your arrow?” You asked softly, trying not to lose your courage.

“Ya said it,” Daryl muttered against your neck, goosebumps forming on your skin at the feeling.

“Yeah, but…do you know why?” You tried again, even if you were shy, even if part of you wanted to stop, unsure about this being a good idea. “It’s…It’s because I, uh…miss you and worry when you’re away…and because I…care for you, and I…have feelings for you…”

You felt your face burning, anxiety pooling in your belly again, but with Daryl’s face hidden in your shoulder, so he couldn’t see yours, it was easier somehow.

Daryl didn’t say anything, your anxiety growing stronger, but before your fear could take hold of you, he was moving even closer to you, nuzzling your neck, making you almost squeal, a warm, fluffy feeling spreading to you.

After a short moment, Daryl lifted his head from your shoulder, his face still hidden from you, and then you felt his lips on your cheek in a soft and shy kiss. You thought you were floating again, the butterflies in your belly going crazy.

When he pulled back, you had to fight against your shyness to make you look at him, you didn’t want to hide away from him, not now. Daryl seemed to feel the same, dropping his gaze down, but then he was looking at you, holding your gaze, both of you silent.

Your hands were still on his waist, his hand moved again to your cheek, his touch warm and gentle, gentler than most people thought Daryl could be, the people who didn’t really know him.

He was leaning in again, or maybe it was you the one moving closer, or perhaps both, you didn’t know, neither did you know who started, who kissed each other first, but you didn’t care, all you knew was that Daryl’s lips were on yours, as soft and gentle as his hand’s touch, and that you both were kissing, everything else left your mind.

The kiss was gentle, tentatively, both Daryl and you were still shy and unsure, but you didn’t stop, the kiss slowly deepening, all insecurities leaving, all walls lowering as you kissed you didn’t know for how long.

Eventually, you both pulled back, but just enough to break the kiss, you were still holding each other, and Daryl’s forehead rested once again on yours, as if he was still too shy to pull away, as if he didn’t want to move away, and you were most certainly not going to complain.

“Daryl…” You pushed past your shyness to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure of this?” Your insecurity made you ask, even if you weren’t sure what you were asking…if he was sure of kissing you? If he was sure he wanted something like this with you? That was what you meant, but you didn’t feel brave enough to elaborate.

“Yeah,” Daryl whispered, so low you almost didn’t hear it, but you felt his forehead nudging yours as he nodded.

“Really?” You couldn’t stop your insecurities.

This time, Daryl pulled back but he didn’t go far, just enough to look at you. “Yeah,” he whispered again, nodding, holding your gaze no matter how shy he seemed. “You?” He asked, and you felt the nervous twitch of his fingers where they rested over your arms.

“Yes,” you whispered back, nodding. Your shyness was still there, your insecurities too, but that fluffy, warm feeling was back to fill you, elation taking over you, and you smiled, shy but blissful.

Daryl’s lips curled up too at the sight of your smile, his as shy as yours, but the pretties you had seen, you were sure of it. 

Your arms moved to wrap around him and he held you close too, so you leaned in, burying your face in his chest with a content sigh, feeling Daryl nuzzling the top of your head as he held you to him…

*

Several months had passed since that day, winter had given way to spring, and a new run had been planned, albeit a smaller one this time.

Daryl and you had never asked each other out, or anything of the sort, but you both knew that you were together and that you loved each other. Building your relationship hadn’t been easy, both of you had to fight through your shyness and your insecurities, things moved slowly as you both eased into being with someone else, into having a relationship, but it was more than worthy.

Now, you were on your way to the prison yard so you could say goodbye to Daryl before he left for the run. You spotted him tinkering with his bike and you made your way to him.

As you approached, you noticed the bracelet of thin, corded leather on his wrist. You’d made it while you were in the Greene’s farm, which seemed an eternity ago, and you usually had it on you, but that morning, you couldn’t find it.

The last thing you expected was to find it on Daryl’s wrist.

“Hey,” you greeted him, reaching for his hand and lifting it, looking at the bracelet. “Look where this was…” You arched your eyebrows, surprised and a bit confused.

“Yeah, uh…” Daryl scratched the back of his head with his free hand, seeming bashful. “Ya mind?”

“I don’t, but…I didn’t see you as someone who liked to wear bracelets,” you said, still amused and confused.

“I ain’t, but uh…” Daryl’s fingers played with yours nervously. “It’s yours, and, uh…remember what ya said, when ya took my arrow to keep with ya when I went to a run?” He asked and you nodded. “I, uh…saw yer bracelet on the bed and thought to take it with me to the run, ‘cause…ya know…” He trailed off, shyly.

Butterflies danced in your belly, and you let out an embarrassing, little squeak before you actually formed words.

“Yeah…yeah, I got your arrow so…you can keep this…” You nodded to the bracelet, smiling.

Daryl gave you a soft smile too, tugging at your hand to pull you closer, kissing your forehead before you kissed his lips.

“You’ll be careful, right?” You asked him once your lips parted, and Daryl nodded…you’d worry anyway until he were back. “Come on…I’ll help to get everything ready.”

Soon enough, he was riding out of the prison, in front of the car with the other people who were going to the run.  You waved him goodbye, smiling when he lifted one of his hands from the handler to wave at you too and you caught sight of your bracelet on his wrist.

*

I hope you enjoyed this little thing, if you did, comments and reblogs mean the world.

As always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

Tags comming on a reblog.

[untilnextchapter]

Heroes

Words: 4363 Sam x Angel!Reader Warnings: none Song fic requested by anonymous - Heroes (We Could Be) - Alesso ft. Tove Lo Summary: Sam and Dean receive a cryptic request from Castiel, only to discover that the girl they’re rescuing is an angel. Sam must tell her and try to show her how this is an amazing thing.

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Wind through wings and Cas was standing there with Sam and Dean.

”Cas,” Dean said. “What’s going on? We weren’t expecting to see you for another week.”

”Something’s come up,” he said. His face was stern, serious. “We’ve become aware of a situation.”

”Who’s we?” Sam asked, crossing his arms and looking at Cas with concern.

”The angels,” Cas said.

”Ok. Well, what is it? Are you alright?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded. “I’m fine. But I do need to ask too much of you both again.” He hesitated, wondering how to continue.

Afficher davantage

[untilnextchapter]

Moonlit Shadow//Legolas.

The forest was alive with the whispers of ancient trees, their branches swaying as if in quiet conversation. Legolas moved soundlessly through the dense woods of Ithilien, his keen eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. The moon hung high above, casting a silver glow that illuminated the dark canopy.

He paused, his elven senses tingling as a flicker of motion caught his eye. For a moment, he thought it was merely a trick of the moonlight—until he heard it: the softest rustle of leaves that even his sharp hearing barely detected.

A shadow moved ahead, a figure cloaked in black, as if the darkness itself had come to life. Without making a sound, Legolas nocked an arrow and aimed it at the silhouette.

"Reveal yourself," he commanded softly, his voice calm but firm.

A low, amused chuckle echoed through the clearing, and a figure stepped into the moonlight. She was an elf, but unlike any he had ever seen. Her long hair, dark as midnight, cascaded down her back, framing a face that was both fierce and beautiful. But it was her eyes that held him captive—vivid, almost glowing purple, like rare gems that glimmered in the starlight.

"You need not point that at me," she said, her voice smooth and laced with mischief. "I'm not the enemy."

Legolas hesitated for a moment, then lowered his bow. "Who are you?" he asked, curiosity sparking within him.

The mysterious elf tilted her head, a smile playing at her lips. "They call me (Y/N). But names mean little in the shadows."

Legolas watched her with growing intrigue. He had heard tales of a rogue wandering the borders of Gondor—an elf who answered to no lord, living by her own code. Yet he had not expected her to be quite so... entrancing.

"Why do you linger here, in the woods of Ithilien?" Legolas inquired, stepping closer.

(Y/N) shrugged casually, her movements graceful as a cat. "The trees speak of invaders, of darkness encroaching from the East. I prefer to stay ahead of trouble." She leaned against a tree, her eyes never leaving his. "And you, prince of Mirkwood? What brings you so far from your homeland?"

Legolas found himself caught off-guard by her directness. "I, too, seek to protect these lands," he replied. "But I am bound by duty."

She chuckled softly. "Duty is a cage, even for one as skilled as you, Legolas. Why not free yourself from those chains and see the world for what it truly is?"

The moonlight bathed her in an ethereal glow, and Legolas felt an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. She was unlike the elves of Rivendell or Lothlórien—wild, untamed, and utterly captivating.

Days turned into weeks, and Legolas found himself crossing paths with (Y/N) more frequently. At first, their encounters were fleeting, accidental. Yet, he began to seek her out, as if the forest itself was drawing them together.

(Y/N) was always moving, her lithe form darting through the shadows like a whisper. She had no loyalty to any realm, no master save herself. Legolas marveled at her independence and strength, traits that were foreign to him as a prince bound by duty.

One evening, as they sat by a small campfire, (Y/N) noticed Legolas watching her with a gaze that was softer than before. She raised an eyebrow, her trademark smirk playing on her lips.

"You stare as if you've never seen an elf before," she teased, her voice a gentle lilt that sent shivers down his spine.

"I have seen many," Legolas replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But none like you."

(Y/N)'s laughter died on her lips as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. The firelight danced across his golden hair, his blue eyes reflecting a warmth that was rare for him. She was used to people desiring her for her skills, her abilities as a rogue—but this? This was something deeper, something she was unprepared for.

"You should not look at me that way, Legolas," she said quietly, turning her gaze to the flames. "I am a shadow, fleeting and unbound. I do not belong in the light."

Legolas reached out, gently cupping her chin to turn her face back to him. "Then let me be the one to pull you into the light," he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek.

For the first time, (Y/N) found herself at a loss for words. She had spent centuries alone, convinced that she needed no one, that her freedom was the only thing worth protecting. But now, under the gentle touch of an elven prince, she felt her walls begin to crumble.

As the days passed, the bond between them grew stronger, though neither spoke of it openly. Their partnership became seamless in battle, their movements synchronized as if they had been fighting side by side for centuries. (Y/N) was always at his side, her twin daggers flashing in the moonlight, a silent protector.

Yet Legolas could not ignore the growing desire in his heart. It was unlike anything he had ever known—this longing for someone so wild and free, so different from himself. He admired her strength, her independence, but it was her heart that captivated him most. The rogue who claimed to live in shadows had a light within her that he could not resist.

One evening, as they rested after a fierce battle against a band of orcs, Legolas could no longer hold back his feelings. He approached (Y/N), who was tending to her wounds, and knelt beside her.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, his voice a gentle caress. "You are the brightest star in the darkest night. I have never met anyone like you, and I fear that my heart is no longer my own."

(Y/N) looked up, her amethyst eyes widening in surprise. "Legolas... you don't know what you're saying. I'm not meant for this." She gestured between them, her expression conflicted.

But Legolas only smiled, leaning in closer until their breaths mingled. "Perhaps you are meant for more than you think, (Y/N)," he whispered.

And in that moment, as the moon bathed them in its silver light, she let go of her fears. Their lips met, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of promises unspoken and feelings long denied. For once, she allowed herself to be vulnerable, to let someone in.

In the shadows of the forest, where only the stars bore witness, the rogue and the prince found solace in each other's embrace—a love that transcended the boundaries of duty and freedom, of light and shadow.

Epilogue: Though (Y/N) continued to walk her own path, she found herself returning to Legolas time and time again. Their love was a delicate balance of freedom and commitment, like a dance under the moonlit sky. Together, they forged a bond that would endure through the ages, proving that even the wildest hearts could find a place to call home.

[untilnextchapter]

Romantic relationship headcanons with Hector

⬆️the awkward look away after staring gn!reader x Hector of Troy

I do not think I need to explain. Just look at him. I was feeling very alone when I wrote this, idk how good it'll be. Hope y'all like.

Loyal king, this we know but how about we dig deeper? You're honor I would like to reference his speech before fighting the Greeks the first time

You're meet cute is either you run into each other (literally) in the halls of his father's place or he meets you one day while he's strolling the city

He doesn't want you to just say yes to him because he's the crown Prince and you might feel pressured too so he sticks to just being friends at first

But he ain't as subtle as he thinks he is and Paris and Cassandra essentially set you up or they try to

Eventually you hear him finally admit to Paris that he does find you beautiful and that everytime he spends time with you he falls a little bit more in love.

Lucky you, huh?

Eventually, Paris will straight up tell him that you definitely feel the same way

Plans a whole thing involving a ride to some cliffs to overlook the sea and watch the sunset and then and only then will be tell you

Kinda works

You have a hunch of what's going on but you go with it because he took the time to plan this and it is pretty romantic

And now you're together, congratulations!

Rides out of the city together

Gentle kisses as you pass in the halls to you pulling him away for a full on make out session behind some pillars

Somehow he is never the one who leaves these things flustered

But kiss his face with tenderness and compliment him sweetly and he will be the one blushing

I feel like sitting in the room with him while he's doing paperwork or looking over city plans is a must

You might be on the other side of the room and doing your own thing but he can ever do often look across the room and admire you or ask your opinion on something

Give this man a back message I am begging you

He is basically carrying Troy on those extremely fine shoulders

Would kill for you

Even more worrisome, he would die protecting you

Whenever he has a break he likes to relax with you, whether it be talking quietly together while he holds you or doing some sort shared activity or exploring the land to get away from it all

I think because he's so busy with his duties whenever he gets the chance he's with you

There's a feast? He is either sitting by your side, hand on your thigh or laced your own, has you on his arm while he walks and talks or on the rare occasion, dances with you

Would love to start a family with you, on this blog I am a firm believer in Hector being an awesome father

Proposal is private but the wedding is less so.It's somehow very sweet, the two of you focusing on each other

Will carry you off once the party is done.

you ever just, accidentally call yourself single in a 1,000 tongues and it hurts worse then you'd think?

[untilnextchapter]

To Go

Words: 3833 Cas x Reader Based on this imagine! Warning: contains dangerously adorable angel fluff…

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You stamped your feet, trying to keep the blood flowing to your toes, as the old lock made the familiar grinding noise and jammed like it always did. “Come on!” Your breath was rising in frozen clouds in front of you as you struggled to turn the key. “Dammit!” You pulled off a mitten and wiggled the key as you pulled the door towards you. Finally the mechanism clicked and you hurriedly pushed the door in, rushing to shut out the frigid air clawing to get in after you. The customary tinkling of the bells sounded as you pushed the door firmly closed. You hastily pulled off your scarf and rubbed your hands together.

It was just another day at the small town diner. “Ricky? Are you back there yet?” you called towards the kitchen as you flipped half the lights on. No response from the cook. You checked the large clock on the wall and decided to leave the sign set to “Closed” for the time being. No point in opening for business if the cook wasn’t in yet…

You made the rounds, getting things going like usual; starting the coffee brewing, setting the hot water to boil, pouring out cream to be set on the tables when needed, and straightening the menus. You were pretty much always the one who opened. Your co-worker Jessie would be in any minute to help you wait tables and hopefully Ricky would show up…

As this thought crossed your mind you heard him bang in through the back, talking loudly with Jessie. You made your way around the counter and changed the sign on the front door to “Open.”

”Hey Y/N,” Jessie said cheerfully. “Good weekend?” she asked, hanging her coat on one of the hooks in the storeroom and reaching for her apron.

You shrugged. “Well, I was here so… nothing unusual,” you called back to her with a smile.

Ricky leaned into the window between the front of the diner and the kitchen while he tied his apron on. “You work too much, principessa!” he called.

You smiled at him. “Have to pay the bills somehow, Ricky,” you said.

”You keep working so hard and you’ll never have time to find yourself a man,” he teased playfully, shaking a finger at you.

You gave him a disapproving smile. “Who said I want one? I serve them all day. Why would I want to go home and do the same thing?” You gave him a tight-lipped smile and he chuckled and shook his head, receding into the kitchen to get things started.

Jessie had been watching the exchange with a smug smirk. “He’s not wrong you know…”

”Oh, please don’t start again, Jess,” you replied. “It’s too early for this!”

”I’m just saying! Tyler has some friends at work you might like!”

”The idea of being set up out of pity with some guy I don’t know makes me cringe and hardly inspires,” you said as you straightened the newspapers. Jessie was about to retort but was interrupted when the tinkling bell signaled your first customer of the day. You shot her one last skeptical look before grabbing a menu and making your way around the counter to the booth where the man in the trench coat had taken a seat.

”Good morning,” you said cheerfully as you placed a menu down in front of him. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

He tilted his chin up and looked at you with a blank expression. Your lungs expelled a small exhale when you saw the intensity of his blue eyes, which were studying you carefully as though he had never seen a waitress before… He stared at you for a long moment and you were almost about to ask him if he was alright when he finally spoke. “Good morning,” he said finally. His voice was low but pleasant. It had a slight gravelly quality to it. “What would you recommend? To drink, I mean,” he said, tearing his eyes away and shuffling through the pages in the menu randomly.

Afficher davantage

[untilnextchapter]

The post you've all been waiting for. Let me tell you a story... ATTN for the following fandoms:

Angels of Death

Assassination Classroom

Attack on Titan

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Chronicles of Narnia

DCU & DCAU

Death Note

Demon Slayer

Disney

Dragon Ball Z

Fantastic Beasts

Harry Potter

How to Train Your Dragon

Hunger Games

Inuyasha

Jujutsu Kaisen

Jurassic Park and Jurassic World

Lord of the Rings

Marvel

Maze Runner

My Hero Academia

Naruto

Ouran High School Host Club

Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies

Rise of the Guardians

Supernatural

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The Legend of Korra

The Walking Dead

Tokyo Ghoul

Twilight

Yuri On Ice!

Note: Personal details published in this post about this repeated plagiarist are what she herself has posted publicly, now or in the past. I am not releasing any information beyond what she has put out there herself. We don't believe in doxxing here on Tumblr at the FPWG.

Let me introduce you to Faith (age 24/25, Virgo, usually uses purple in her blog themes, calls herself a 'simp', multi-fandom blogs, Missouri USA, also has called herself "Chaos" and now "Ann"), the entire reason this blog exists. (Congrats on inspiring this blog, hun! Have the day you deserve!)

Past and current (known) usernames on Tumblr: @/fandomimaginewasteland & @/fandom-reblogs-and-things (CURRENT. BLOCK AND BOYCOTT THESE ACCOUNTS!) @/fandomwasteland13 (previous, changed to fandom-reblogs-and-things) @/mysticalfanheart @/toocherryblossomcreator @/just-a-fanvergent-fangirl (currently deactivated) @/freedreameryouth @/fandoms-forever-united (changed to @/deliciouscreationphilosopher) @/fandomsgalore and @/fandomsgalore-backup @/justagirlwhowrites @/she-who-writes-for-multifandoms @/fandoms-galore @/waywardchaos3 (deleted?) Known accounts on other platforms: Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@just-here-to-read-and-write/ AND https://www.youtube.com/@faithann8572 Quotev: https://www.quotev.com/justagirlwhowrites Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TMNTLOVER123345

Faith's self-proclaimed "top characters" she likes to "write":

Karma Akabane

Levi Ackerman

Genya Shinazugawa

Giyuu Tomioka

Vegeta

Draco Malfoy

Sesshomaru

Megumi Fushiguro

Satoru Gojo

Loki

Izuku Midoriya

Katsuki Bakugo

Keigo Takami/Hawks

Shoto Todoroki

Tomura Shigaraki

Gaara

Sasuke Uchiha

Daryl Dixon

Ayato Kirishima

Niskiki Nishioo

On March 11th, 2024, @daryl-dixon-daydreams discovered that the account @/just-a-fanvergent-fangirl (owned by Faith, age 24, Missouri, USA) had plagiarized a drabble of hers and claimed it as her own. On further investigation, @daryl-dixon-daydreams found a second plagiarized drabble on the same account.

The above screenshot is part of the first plagiarized fic, and includes her blog look and description.

@daryl-dixon-daydreams documented this plagiarism by screenshotting and highlighting all the plagiarized writing (hint: basically all of it) and responded in a reblog directly to Faith, the plagiarizer.

The above is @daryl-dixon-daydreams's response and the screenshots below include the highlighted stolen text. (original drabbler here)

original post source here: https://daryl-dixon-daydreams.tumblr.com/post/744711685638619136/hi-oh-hi-did-you-think-i-wouldnt-find-out-about @daryl-dixon-daydreams then did some further searching on Faith's blog and her plagiarism and discovered that Faith had done this before to MULTIPLE other accounts. @meggsngrits had already exposed Faith's previous plagiarism here, complete with screenshots and receipts: https://www.tumblr.com/meggsngrits/744358130218090496?source=share

@daryl-dixon-daydreams messaged Faith's account and told her to remove ALL her plagiarized content and that she would start checking her posts with plagiarism detecting software.

After initially denying it and talking about how mad SHE was on both Tumblr and Youtube, Faith did eventually realize she was caught because everyone had so much evidence... Fairly shortly after being outed as a plagiarist, Faith deactivated her account. But it wasn't long before she popped up under different usernames (AGAIN) and began doing the same thing AGAIN. In fact, once the original creator saw Faith perusing her blog again under a different username in September, it took less than 24 hours for Faith to plagiarize the SAME FIC from @daryl-dixon-daydreams AGAIN!

@daryl-dixon-daydreams also realized that this time Faith had pre-emptively restricted her blog from reblogging or replying to any of Faith's posts, likely because she was trying to fly under the radar without getting caught, and so it would be more difficult to respond in a way that would make EVERYONE on Faith's page aware of what she really was; someone who steals content from hard-working creators who spend a lot of time building skills and practicing their craft.

Instead, @daryl-dixon-daydreams was forced to send an anonymous ask to Faith's inbox challenging her about her plagiarism again and again screenshot everything to document it.

Instead of AGAIN realizing she was caught, Faith doubled down and claimed she hadn't done anything wrong because she typed something about being "inspired" by the original drabble. But we all know inspiration and plagiarism are two completely different things... Faith blocked the original creator despite all the evidence.

It was also noticed by multiple creators that one account @/waywardchaos3 seemed to be one of her biggest supporters (discussed at the time in dms by multiple creators, we have receipts) and PLOT TWIST that username would later be one that Faith BEGAN POSTING CONTENT UNDER, SUGGESTING THAT SHE WAS RESPONDING TO, DEFENDING, AND LIKING HER OWN CONTENT AND SHITTY CONDUCT. Commenting on your own shit to act like people support the crap you are pulling is next level... This is one of those responses below.

The next day, after this repeated outing and realizing she was fucked because of all the evidence, Faith posted another bullshit "apology" and claimed she was going on a "writing hiatus." She also changed her username again, but she continued to watch what was being said about her and responded in reblogs in weak attempts to defend her conduct.

Below is @daryl-dixon-daydreams response to her "apology." If you look back to the post by @meggsngrits, you'll see that she has blanket shit she says in all of her so-called "apologies." It's basically a joke at this point... Why would anyone believe OR trust you?

Faith continued to respond in reblogs.

I think you mean *owning up, hun...

But this was not the end of the saga... vigilant content creators continued to keep watch for her and found several new accounts. They began notifying content creator accounts they were seeing Faith interacting with, and that's how Faith ended up causing another creator to delete ALL of her writing from Tumblr and leave the platform for writing.

Faith denied, then caved and posted a bullshit "apology", then deleted as is her usual pattern when she is confronted. Faith responded to the writer (below) that she caused to leave and denied shit we have proof of... (We suspect she sends herself anonymous asks and requests but this is ONLY a suspicion...) She definitely was responding to herself though..with this account, which she immediately started using after we blasted her for the last one and she had to delete again. We showed proof of that above. Some angry people also started threatening to dox Faith, but this account is not associated with those actions.

Was that the end? NOPE.

She's back and reblogging (tagging some things as "inspiration") fandom content on this account u/fandomimaginewasteland (hello MySpace theme lookin' blog circa 2006...)

and "writing" on this one u/fandom-reblogs-and-things.

Many of her posts lately are not actual writing (gifs + an imagine scenario), but could be scenarios she stole from other creators. She recently has started doing some "writing" but so far we have been unable to identify any specific plagiarism at this time of posting. However, her past conduct reveals that it is only a matter of time.

She is now claiming that her name is "Ann", which we believe is actually her middle name. Faith usually talks about being a "simp" (ew... *gag*) for fictional characters SOMEWHERE on her blog, and this is no exception. Her blogs also tend to have similar "looks". Yeah, think bad Myspace theme circa early 2000s...

Faith's behavior and actions within the fandom space can and DO cause REAL HARM. If even one creator leaves or stops writing because of what she's done, then she deserves to be banned from the space, and clearly she has done that and WILL NOT STOP.

The solution at this point is for EVERYONE in EVERY fandom space to keep watch for themselves and for their favorite creators, so that she is ostracized in this online space. That's what she has proven she deserves through her repeated lies and shitty actions.

Let us leave you with a final tidbit, this excerpt from Faith's latest blog rules where she specifically asks people not to plagiarize... Oh, the irony.

Fuck around and find out what happens, Faith. We are always watching, and we will always find you. You deserve to be ostracized in fandom spaces. Have the day you deserve.

PLEASE REBLOG AND SHARE THIS WIDELY SO WE CAN STOP FAITH'S BAD BEHAVIOR.

[untilnextchapter]

you most definitely can decline if you have too much on your plate/you don’t want to, but could i request platonic dad!daryl and daughter!reader? where they get separated when the prison falls (reader was on her own and then met with the group at terminus). After the events at Terminus they finally get a chance to hug and spend time together and reader is crying and ranting about how she was so scared and she wishes she could be strong like Daryl, and Daryl lets her in on his own worries and comforts her? i was thinking reader is like early teens (14-15)

again feel free to decline if you want! 🧡

His Little Girl—Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: After Terminus, you finally reunited with your father. While he was busy bandaging your arm after an injury you sustained, you let all your emotions out. Daryl, in a rare moment, shared his own feelings with you.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Post Terminus.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of near death experiences.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: Had to throw in a little bit of overprotective Dad!Daryl at the end. I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You winced in pain when your father poured alcohol over your open wound. Your hand instinctively jerked back, the long gash on your arm burning with the fire of a thousand suns. You scrunched your face in pain, closing your eyes against the pain.

“M'sorry, Bean,” Daryl apologized, pulling the bottle away and placing it on the ground. He reached into his bag and grabbed a bandage he had managed to find in some abandoned house, and he started wrapping it around the gnarly wound. “Jus' try and hold still, alrigh'? This'll be over sooner if ya do.”

“Okay,” you whispered, opening your eyes and looking at your father's face. His face betrayed no emotions; he simply focused on bandaging your arm, his usual stoic expression on his face. He showed no ounce of fear, nothing to show that he thought he was going to die. That made you kind of envious. “How do you do it?”

Daryl halted his movements with the bandage, his blue eyes flicking up to meet your gaze. “M'guessin' yer not talkin' 'bout bandagin' someone's arm, are ya?”

You shook your head. “No, I'm not,” you replied in a broken whisper.

“Talk to me, Bean,” Daryl urged you, slowly resuming with the task of bandaging your arm. “Wha's on yer mind?”

You stayed silent for a moment, your eyes straying to the rest of the group. The only thing you could see in the dark was the light that the campfire emitted. The group was seated around the fire, a couple of them laying down to catch some sleep while a couple of others stayed up, mindlessly staring into the fire while others were keeping a cautious eyes on the tree line, trying to see if walkers or the survivors of Terminus were going to attack.

Shifting your attention back to your father, you swallowed deeply, trying to will the lump in your throat to go away. “How are you so brave?”

Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha'?”

“How are you so brave?” you repeated, diverting your eyes to the ground. “You're not afraid of anything. You weren't scared when the camp at the quarry got overrun. You weren't scared at the CDC. When the farm fell, and then the prison, Terminus... You weren't scared at all. I was. I still am. When the prison fell, I escaped with someone, but he didn't make it long. The walkers got to him. Then I was alone, and I was so scared. I thought I was gonna die out there, alone, without knowing whether or not everyone was alive or not. Then I saw the Terminus maps, and I managed to find my way there, but everything quickly went to crap. I got thrown into that train cart, and I thought I was gonna be killed, but there you were. You were alive and you all had a plan to get out. It was a close call, and I almost got killed, but we got out. Through all of that, you weren't scared. You're so brave, and I'm not. I'm not.”

Daryl tightened the bandage around your arm before he withdrew his hands. He stayed silent for a few moments before he sighed, shaking his head.

“Ya ain't got no idea how wrong ya are,” he started, chuckling slightly at the way you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion—a trait you had inherited from him. “Bean, I was real fuckin' scared. All those times ya mentioned, I was terrified. I jus' put on a brave face fer ya 'cause I know ya needed me to be. When I saw the walkers back at the quarry camp, and I couldn't find ya immediately, I thought the walkers got ya. At the CDC, when tha' asshole wouldn't unlock the door, I thought we were gon' get blown up. I thought tha' my twelve year old lil' girl was gon' die, and there wasn't anythin' I could do to stop it. With the farm and now the prison, I thought ya didn't make it out. I spent the whole time wonderin' if ya were alive. I thought—I thought tha' ya were dead. I was so scared, Bean. I ain't ever been as scared like I was when the prison fell. I felt broken, empty. And then I found ya, but those psychopaths almost killed ya in front of me. I jus'... I can't lose ya. Yer my baby girl, even if yer already fourteen years old. I'd rather die than lose ya again.”

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, sniffling as Daryl wrapped his arms around you tightly. He pressed a kiss to your temple and slightly rocked you from side to side, just like he used to do when you were younger and had just woken up from a nightmare. Being in your father's embrace made you feel safe, like nothing could ever hurt you again. You wished you could always feel that way.

“I love you, Dad,” you whispered softly.

“Love ya too, Bean. More than ya know.” Daryl soon pulled back from the hug and gave you a small smile, and nudged his head in the direction of the campfire. “C'mon, let's head back. Ya need somethin' to eat.”

You nodded and got up, following behind your father as you walked back to the rest of the group. You settled down beside Carl while Daryl sat down next to Rick.

Carl sent you a small smile, nervously fiddling with his hands. “Hey, Y/n. How's your arm?”

You smiled at him and shrugged. “I'll live. I've had worse.”

“Yeah, and yet you're still alive,” Carl replied, still nervously fidgeting with his hands. “You're a badass.”

“Thanks, Carl,” you thanked him. Noticing his fidgeting, but mistaking his nerves for coldness, you grabbed one of his hands and held it in your own. “Here, let me warm your hands for you. My hands are like a furnace.”

You missed the way Carl ducked his head, a blush spreading across his face but he smiled in silent glee. “Yeah, okay.”

As you and Carl silently conversed to yourselves, with Carl staring at you in awe, Daryl watched the two of you closely. His glare rested on his best friend's son and the way he held your hand, and Daryl couldn't help the surge of overprotectiveness that flooded his body. He visibly stiffened, catching Rick's attention.

Rick followed his line of sight and chuckled at what he saw. “Look at that. Young love, huh?”

Daryl glared at Rick. “Yer son better keep his hands off'a her. They're too young to be thinkin'a tha'.”

“Do what you want, Daryl, but if they wanna be together, they're gonna find a way, despite your rules.”

Well, Daryl thought, then he'd just have to bestow the fear of god into the young boy, and make sure that if he ever hurt you, his little girl, walkers would be the least of his problems.

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TWD Imagines - How they’d react to you wearing their jacket

A/N: REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I have not been active in ages but here we are! I started a small business so I’ve been a little busy but back now!

Daryl

At first, he wouldn’t say anything. Just silently stare are you walk around with it on. But then he’d chuckle to himself, and walk over to you asking what you’re wearing. You’d plead saying it’s cold but you both know it’s comforting in a different way. ‘Y’know if you’d ask, I’d’a given it to ya.’

Rick

Rick would smile to himself, looking around to see all the people who have seen you. He’s a touch possessive, and loves that you’re so confident in your relationship. He’s strut over to you, kiss you on the cheek before making some cheeky remark. ‘Well, look’s like you really love me after all.’ When you’d turn to him, you’d be about to defend your choice, when he’d pull you into kiss him - deeply but sweetly.

Negan

He’d wolf whistle the minute he saw you. He’d strut up to you and pull you in by the hips, kissing you roughly. ‘Wow, baby doll, look at you.’ You’d be a blushing mess, which only spurs him on. Let’s just say, you wouldn’t be in his jacket for much longer.

Merle

Merle would laugh at you. You’d get annoyed thinking he was been mean, really he was baffled. You’d take it off, leaving it with him, he’d get really quiet. Walking away, he watch you, annoyed at himself. He’d grab the jacket, and find you sitting out by the fence, watching the prison field. He’d drape the jacket over your shoulders, and apologise.

Shane

To him, it was the hottest thing you’d ever done. Everyone already knew you were his, but to see you rubbing it in peoples faces. He’d go feral, claim you need to go on a run, but really it’s just to get you alone for a while ;)

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Just Daryl holding and feeding baby Judith, I'm melting.

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Words: 8714 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, blood, severe injuries, fear, anxiety, death of a character A/N: This is the FINAL part of a miniseries! You can find the other chapters on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Shane go missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

Two weeks later

“I can actually do it myself,” you insisted, feeling a blush in your cheeks as Daryl pulled your hand over onto his lap and bent over it, luckily oblivious to the pink glow now filling your cheeks.

He huffed at you. “I’m sure ya can,” he drawled, “but it’s definitely easier for someone with two hands, don’t ya think?”

You watched as he methodically and carefully snipped the stitches in your hand and pulled the sutures away, apologizing if they tugged at all. A lot had happened in the last two weeks. Pretty much everyone had come around to the fact that Shane had hurt himself in an attempt to get the group to abandon you. There had been a massive fight between him and Rick and since then Shane had been confined to his tent while he healed. When Hershel found out what had happened, he told Rick that Shane couldn’t stay, but Rick had already decided that he had go. His best friend seemed to be growing more bitter and more unstable by the day.

But Shane was still around temporarily, and because of that Daryl had refused to leave you to sleep unguarded at night. You’d argued that it would be fine and that you didn’t really think Shane would try to pull anything else, but the archer was insistent. Eventually, you caved. Daryl had hauled your cot and bedding to his tent and set them up along the opposite wall from his, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck at the strange nervousness and yet gratitude he felt knowing you’d be so close.

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Words: 4,027 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, discussions of trauma, typical TWD, nothing super bad this chapter A/N: This is of a miniseries! You can find the other chapters on the Masterlist! Summary: An accusation is made.

Your name: submit What is this?

The next afternoon you were about ready to lose your mind if you had to sit around your camp site any longer. Daryl had gone out searching for Sophia again and you felt useless being left behind. You knew you couldn’t go far into the woods with your hand injured, but you decided to visit the usual places along the edge where you often found wild mushrooms just for something to do. You gathered up your pack and sheathed your knife on your hip, just in case, and headed out.

It wasn’t yet evening but the sun was sinking low in the sky. Andrea was on watch, sitting on top of the RV, when she suddenly spotted a figure emerging from the trees. At first she thought it might be Daryl coming back from his search, but after looking properly through the binoculars she could see that it was Shane and he was stumbling. The front of his shirt looked crimson. “Oh my God. Oh my God! Hey—I think Shane’s hurt!” The camp scrambled into action. Dale passed out the guns and Rick took off in the lead, racing across the pasture as fast as his legs could carry him. Glenn, Andrea, and T-dog were on his heels. When they reached Shane, they could see a long slice across his torso. He was clutching his hand to his stomach and the blood was just pouring out.

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Words: 3,439 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, implied attempted sexual assault (no description), discussions of trauma, typical TWD A/N: This is Part 2 of the new miniseries! kind of intense and a bit dark at certain points so heed the warnings ya’ll. Summary: Y/N confides in Daryl about where the mark on her arm came from. Shane is convinced that Y/N is dangerous.

Your name: submit What is this?

At first all he saw were the knife cuts, crimson against your skin, but you turned your forearm toward him in the firelight. “This is what I didn’t want you to see,” you said.

Daryl stared at a scar on your forearm. It looked like a brand and the skin was still slightly pink, showing that it wasn’t that old. It was four numbers. 1048.

His blue eyes flickered up to meet yours and you read both confusion and concern on his face.

“I was prisoner number 1048. It was supposed to be a refugee camp for people evacuated from Atlanta and the suburbs. At first, it was. The army was running everything, but eventually supplies became scarce. The soldiers started hoarding them. There was practically no food. Hardly any clean water. They kept waiting for reinforcements and deliveries but they never came… But they wouldn’t let anyone leave. People would just disappear if they complained. They—they started doing whatever they wanted… taking whatever they wanted…” You trailed off for a moment and the look in your eyes shrank away until you were completely gone in some horrible memory. Daryl’s voice brought you back by gently saying your name. His expression was overwhelmingly concerned.

“Ya ain’t gotta say anything else,” he drawled quietly.

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