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I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH DARYL

I hope you like it! ☝😌🤍

Daryl could endure any kind of injury, pain, or trial that the world you lived in threw at him.

A herd of Walkers, Negan up to his old tricks again, or Gregory trying to turn the residents of Hilltop against Maggie—nothing mattered, he could handle it all.

But he couldn't bear to see you cry.

That's why, when during one of his night patrols he heard you sniffing and wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks with the back of your hand, he felt as if something inside him broke.

He could almost feel the pieces of his shattered heart piercing his lungs, preventing him from breathing normally.

He didn't want to scare you for anything in the world, but he was so quiet that when he appeared beside you from the shadows, you couldn't help but jump at the sight of him.

"Daryl," you whispered, sheathing the knife you had taken from your belt for self-defense, "What are you doing here?"

“I was just checking that everything was alright,” he said, giving you time to respond.

“Everything’s fine, you can continue with the round,” you murmured, looking away from him.

The dark-haired man knew you well enough to know that when you said everything was alright, it meant nothing was, so he slowly sat down beside you, waiting… he didn’t know exactly for what, he just wanted to keep you company. He didn’t want you to be alone.

“Do you want to tell me?” he asked in a whisper, glancing at you.

“I’m afraid of what might happen tomorrow,” you confessed. “I’m afraid this will be the last time we see each other, that I’ll be able to talk to you, I’m afraid you’ll…”

“No,” he interrupted, looking directly into your eyes. “That’s not going to happen. Nothing you think is going to happen will.”

“How do you know?” “You questioned, and he looked at you with an intensity that took your breath away.

“I just know” he whispered. “I’m not going to let anything happen,” he added. “It’s a simple mission: identify the Saviors’ outposts, count how many are at each one, and get back home.”

“But what if you get caught? What if it’s an ambush? What if…?”

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH FRODO

I hope you like it! 😌☝💚

Frodo Baggins was a simple man.

He would get up early in the morning, and after making sure everything was in its place, he would go to the kitchen and make coffee over the fire, along with some toast with butter and tomato jam.

Tomatoes which Sam had given him.

After breakfast, he would go for a walk.

He would see his friends and then return home to continue enjoying his uneventful and peaceful life.

Of course, all that was before the Ring.

Before you appeared.

Frodo remembers the exact moment he saw you.

You weren't a dwarf, nor were you a mortal woman, nor a sorceress with powers similar to Gandalf's.

Of course, you weren't a hobbit, and you certainly weren't an orc.

Gandalf sat down at the small table in Frodo's house and motioned for you to do the same.

Frodo prepared two coffees and placed them on the table in front of you.

"Thank you, my dear friend," murmured the wizard, bringing a smile to Frodo's lips.

"Gandalf," he whispered, "what brings you to these lands, so far from your usual haunts?"

"The White Wizard has said that you are the best person for the task at hand," you said, your voice so clear it almost seemed otherworldly.

Frodo stared at you for a few moments before quickly looking away to meet the wizard's gaze

"What kind of task are we talking about?"

"An adventure," replied Gandalf, causing the boy's eyes to widen.

"An adventure? Like the one my uncle had?"

“This one is much more dangerous, I’m afraid,” you murmured.

“Terrible dangers lurk around every corner, and only those clever enough to anticipate them will be the ones who take the longest to leave this world.” Frodo looked at you again, and Gandalf couldn’t help but smile at the Hobbit’s expression.

“Forgive her, Frodo, sometimes she’s too cryptic in her answers,” he smiled, before adding, “I present to you Tierel, daughter of Thranduil, King of the Elves.”

“You’re Legolas’s sister,” he murmured. You nodded, before the dark-haired man fixed his gaze on the wizard. “Gandalf, why didn’t you tell me you were accompanied by a princess?” he complained. “If I had known, I would have tidied the house and prepared some exquisite dinner.”

“None of that is necessary, my friend.” The pleasure of your hospitality is enough – he glanced around the room – besides, I doubt you needed to “tidy the house” as you say – he ran his index finger over one of the pictures resting on the mantelpiece – everything is so clean I can see my reflection in every surface in the house.

“It means a lot to you to say that, Gandalf, thank you,” he smiled. “You know, a Hobbit’s greatest pride is having a beautiful house, yes, but also a clean and tidy one.”

“Getting back to the matter at hand,” Gandalf summarized, “do you remember the ring your uncle left you before he departed?” The Hobbit nodded. “We need you to destroy it.”

“How?” “—asked the dark-haired man, his blue eyes darting between you and the wizard and back again—

“You must cast the One Ring into the flames of Mount Doom” you explained. “Its fire is the only one capable of melting both its physical form and the evil it carries within.”

“Mount Doom?” he questioned. “But that’s…”

“…in Mordor, yes,” Gandalf finished for him.

“What do you say? Do you accept?” Gandalf asked.

“It’s an unexpected journey, certainly,” the Hobbit murmured, “but what would the world be without a little suspense?”

“That’s the spirit!” Gandalf exclaimed. “Does this mean you accept the mission?”

leo || infj || 16 || new writter

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH NEGAN

I hope you like it! 🤍☝😌

Negan was angry, and that was NEVER a good sign.

At that very moment, he had his eyes on you, while all the workers knelt before him.

He loved having the power to make everyone do what he wanted.

The unfortunate soul who decided to refuse would see Lucille's barbed wire before it completely shattered their skull, so there weren't many other options: obey or die.

Of course, most chose to obey, although lately there had been trouble with a certain group in a certain place, but that's not our concern right now.

The point was that Negan had stopped the workers from their usual tasks for a reason, which he was about to reveal.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "you know that among all the good things I am, I'm also honest," he continued, "so I'm going to be direct and get to the point," he said. "Someone has tried to take advantage of Y/N, who, as you all know, is the most important of all my women," he blurted out, scanning the crowd. "I need the name of the person responsible RIGHT NOW, or I'll leave you without food for two whole weeks," he smiled. "You know perfectly well that I can do it, and since I can, I will."

He began to walk among the people, dragging Lucille along the ground, so that the sound of the wood hitting the cement floor would cause one of those present to reveal the information he had so politely requested.

"Guys, guys, guys." "You're making me wait too long," he raised the bat above their heads. "You're making Lucille wait, and she doesn't like that at all."

"I saw him," a middle-aged man blurted out, pointing to another who was much younger. "I saw him talking to her," he explained, nodding slightly at you. "Then he tried… well, to take advantage of her, just like you said."

"That's a lie!" the accused retorted. "He's only saying that because he's scared!"

"Scared?" Negan questioned, placing his right hand on his chest. "Of me?" he asked. "No, that can't be," he snorted. "Nobody here is afraid of me, only deeply respectful." He scanned the crowd again before continuing, "I'm going to ask you a second time, and I'm warning you now, there won't be a third," he said. "Who was it?" "Speak now or forever hold your peace," he smiled, placing Lucille on his right shoulder. "I'll make sure to follow that last part to the letter, you know me," he joked, a joke that, evidently, no one laughed at.

"It was him!" said the boy who had been accused earlier, pointing at the one who had exposed him in the first place. "He tried to save his fucking ass by blaming me, but it didn't work out! It was him!"

“Negan,” he repeated, his gaze fixed on the boss, “you have to believe me. I would never lie to you.”

“I know, you can rest easy” Negan murmured. “On the contrary, you…” He pointed at the accuser with the bat. “I don’t know anything about you,” he whispered. “I mean, I know you’re a worker, that you fix things and all that, but I don’t know what you’re like. I haven’t the slightest idea.” He smiled. “And that’s a good reason for me to distrust you,” he explained.

Negan nodded to Dwight, and he approached the oven, and as he did, everyone knew what that meant.

It was time for the grill.

“You know what the problem is, my dear friend Mark?” “—Negan questioned, as the man tried to resist— [Y/N] told me that at the time of the incident the room was dark, which means that besides being a textbook bastard, you're a coward,” he blurted out. “That's why you'll receive double punishment.”

He gestured to another of his men, and after taking the iron off the heat, they placed it against the side of the man's face.

The man began to scream as he felt his skin slowly burning. When he was about to faint, they did the same to the other side.

When they finished, Negan placed the tip of Lucille under Mark's chin, so he looked directly into his eyes.

"This isn't just a punishment, it's also a reminder," he explained. "Every day, when you wake up and see your reflection in the mirror, you'll remember what you did, and you'll realize that the only reason you're still alive is so you can continue to suffer for what you've done." He tilted his head toward his men. "Take him away."

People began to disperse to return to their daily activities as if nothing had happened, at which point Negan approached you, looking at you with his expressive dark eyes.

"Are you okay?" "—he questioned, studying every little gesture of your face—

—Now much better, after he got what he deserved—you replied, making Negan smile, who put an arm around your shoulders before moving closer to him—

I wrote another fic with Aragorn

I hope you like it! 😌☝🤍

You couldn't blame anyone for what had happened.

Well, except yourself and your own stupidity.

You should have left Osgiliath the moment you saw the riders of Rohan descending the hillside to pursue you, but you didn't.

Instead, you stayed in the besieged city, stealing everything (or almost everything) you could find, from weapons and ammunition to precious stones and what looked like rare metals that, in the right market, could fetch a good price.

That's how you ended up in the throne room of Gondor.

The city's tree stood majestically before the building, its new leaves unfurled.

A sign that, at last, after many years, the heir to the throne of Gondor had sat upon the throne that was rightfully his.

The guards led you to the center of the hall, and once there, they spread out, covering all the entrances and exits.

The moment you laid eyes on the man seated on the throne, your first thought was that he bore no resemblance to the ancient King Denethor, son of Eccelion.

The man on the throne had long, dark hair arranged delicately over his shoulders.

He wore no armor or emblem, but rather a black robe with blue details, both colors representing Gondor.

On his head was his crown, a symbol of his power and position.

He observed you intently for a few seconds before speaking.

His voice echoed through the immense hall, so much so that it seemed even the Hobbits could flee from his voice in their comfortable and peaceful homes in the Shire, despite being thousands of miles away.

"I have heard certain actions carried out on your orders, which I would like to know if they are true," he began. "My men found you in the ancient city of Osgiliath."

"That's true," you replied. "You were supposed to be asking me about rumors you don't know are true or not," you added. "If you know I was in Osgiliath, why are you asking me?" you blurted out. "Is that the only reason I'm here? To answer your questions?"

"You can't speak to him like that…" one of the soldiers tried to intervene, but the king gestured with his hand, gently stopping him.

"You're here to answer my questions, that's true, but also so that everyone here can talk about you being in my court, in my city, in my palace," he enumerated, without taking his eyes off you, while a lopsided smile played on his lips. "You're somewhat famous, my lady Y/N."

"How do you know my name?" you blurted out, trying to hold back the blush rising in your cheeks, fueled by the anger you felt at that moment. "No one but those closest to me knows."

"Well, in case you hadn't noticed, I am the king of this territory," he said, "and as such, it is my duty to know at all times who enters my domains, and what their intentions are," he whispered. "Does that answer your question?"

“Yes,” you murmured, “now I have a question for you, if my lord will allow me the boldness.”

“Go ahead,” the dark-haired man agreed.

“Are you going to let me go?” you questioned. The man’s smile widened slightly.

“From what I’ve heard, you’ve stolen goods that could be used to improve the lives of my people,” he said. “Stealing is a crime here, so as I see it, you have two options,” he explained. “The first is to return all those things, and the second is to stay and help us defend the city and its inhabitants.”

“Why should I defend you? I don’t know these people, you mean nothing to me,” you whispered. “What do I gain by doing this?”

“A favor,” he replied. “Not everyone can say the King of Gondor owes them a favor.” “My village isn’t very big, just about ten houses,” you explained.

“I’ll accept your terms if you can promise me those people will be safe and sound in a secure place.”

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH DARYL

I hope you like it! 🤍😌☝

It was the first time you'd found running water in weeks, inside the bathroom of an abandoned motel room.

And it was like seeing heaven.

The water was fresh, it didn't run brown from the pipes, and it seemed like it would never run out.

First you showered and then let yourself air dry, while Daryl went into the bathroom to shower as well.

You were reading a magazine that had been out of fashion for a long time when the bathroom door opened, and you saw Daryl come out, droplets of water sliding from his face to his chest and further down, disappearing beneath the towel he had wrapped around his waist.

The sight made you swallow hard and look away from him, wishing in your next life that you could be reincarnated as a drop of water.

"We were lucky" he commented, shaking his head from side to side to get rid of the excess water in his hair. "It's not every day you find this." "I wish we could take it back to Alexandria" you murmured. "Especially for Maggie. Hygiene is always very important, but now that she has a baby on the way, even more so."

Daryl nodded, before reaching for his pack of cigarettes and quickly lighting one.

He took a couple of drags before holding it between his index and middle fingers.

"What's the plan?" you asked, tilting your head toward him.

"We'll spend the night here and head out in the morning," he said. "You have the bed; I'll sleep on the floor."

"The bed's big enough for both of us, Daryl," you murmured. "You can sleep perfectly well in the bed."

"I don't want to bother you" he confessed, making you smile.

"And you're not" you said, making room for him on the left side of the bed. "Come on in"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH DARYL

I hope you like it! ☝😌🤍

Daryl had been looking after Judith all day.

After you reclaimed Alexandria from the Saviors, Rick had to leave for several days with Michonne to gather supplies, trying to make up for everything the Saviors had taken.

That's how Daryl ended up looking after Judith.

He promised Rick he would protect her with his life, and (like everything the dark-haired man did) he was taking it very seriously.

You were mesmerized.

You couldn't help but glance at him every few minutes, at both of them.

Daryl had no experience taking care of young children, but he had watched a series about a gang of neighborhood kids who had each other's backs when he and his brother were Judith's age.

He took some things from that, along with his own way of looking after the people he cared about, and that's how he became Uncle Daryl.

Or Judith's second father, depending on how you looked at it.

Every morning, you'd see him pick up the little girl and carry her to the town garden.

There, they'd watch the vegetables and flowers grow.

Daryl would explain it to her as best he could, and Judith would look at him as if being with him was the best thing that had ever happened to her in her short life.

And maybe it was.

Afterward, they'd go inside, and with Carol's help, they'd make lunch for both of them.

Since there was no television, they'd take a walk around town, greeting everyone and asking if they needed help with anything.

Their last stop was always at your house.

Around nine o'clock at night, when the sun was still shining high in the sky, you'd be waiting, sitting on the porch bench, hoping to see them arrive.

That day, Daryl was carrying Judith on his shoulders, piggyback style.

The man held her by the knees to keep her from falling, and he did so by pulling on her thick, long hair.

Judith was one of the few people allowed to tug on the dark-haired man's hair without him responding with a growl.

"Y/N! Y/N!" exclaimed the little girl, running to you when Daryl put her down.

"Judith, I'm so glad to see you!" you smiled, pointing to her hands. "What do you have there?"

"It's for you," she explained, looking at you with her intense blue eyes. "Daryl wanted to give it to you himself, but he's embarrassed, so that's why I'm giving it to you," the little girl blurted out.

"Is that so?" you asked, searching for Daryl's gaze, which he shyly avoided.

"Yes," the little girl affirmed. "I hope you like it!"

"I'm sure I will," you smiled. "If it's from you and Daryl, it's IMPOSSIBLE I wouldn't like it," you joked, making her laugh.

The little girl opened her hand and placed what was probably the most beautiful gift you had ever received on your palm.

You glanced from Judith to Daryl, who this time slightly moved his hair away from his face so he could see you more clearly.

"Don't you like it?" Judith blurted out, interrupting your thoughts.

"What? No, Judith, I love it!" you insisted. "Where did you get them?"

“Uncle Daryl found them,” she explained. “He said you love seashells, so I thought we could make you a necklace with them.” She smiled, proud of herself. “He found the piece of string too; I just strung them on.”

“That’s hard work for a young lady like you,” you laughed, gently ruffling her hair, which brought a tiny smile to Daryl’s lips.

“Will you help me put it on?”

“I’ll do it,” Daryl interjected, making you swallow hard at the sudden rasp in his voice.

“But I know how to tie the knot, you taught me,” Judith complained, looking at the dark-haired boy.

“I know you know how, ass-kicker, but the knot I showed you isn’t the same one used for this,” he explained. “This one has to be finer, with fewer steps,” he said. “I’ll show you tomorrow, I promise.”

“Okay,” the girl agreed, stepping aside.

Daryl watched you for a few moments before turning back to Judith.

“You know what? Rosita told me she wanted to make Maggie a bouquet of flowers for her birthday,” he said. “Why don’t you go to the garden and help her? I’ll be there in a little while.”

“Okay, I’ll pick lots of yellow flowers.” "They're Maggie's favorites," the little girl explained excitedly, before giving you a look accompanied by a wide smile.

When you were alone, Daryl extended his palm toward you so you could place the necklace on it.

You moved the hair away from your neck, and he slipped the cord around it.

You felt the cool pads of his fingers on the back of your neck for a few moments as he tied the knot, before he stepped back to look at you.

You touched the shells against your neck with a smile on your lips, before looking at him again.

"How does it look?"

"Perfect," he said, making a slight blush appear on your cheeks. "Judith told me she wants you to teach her girly things," he blurted out suddenly. You frowned.

"What does 'girly things' mean to her?" you asked. He shook his head.

"I don't know," he murmured. "I guess it's stuff like hairstyles, dresses, and things like that" he shook his head. "What do you think she means?"

"I think she means things like boys, for example," you murmured. "It's normal at her age for her to start feeling those kinds of things," you explained. "You know, lately I've noticed that Ben…"

"No way," he growled, his protective side coming out. "It can't be that," he whispered. "And who is this Ben?" he asked, as if he were suddenly going to go over to the guy and give him a piece of his mind.

"He's the one who helps Gabriel at the church," you replied. "He also acts as a lookout sometimes."

"And you're saying that Judith has been watching him?" "—he asked, and you nodded—she's two years older than her."

"I know," you smiled, "I'm afraid to tell you that's normal too"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH DARYL

I hope you like it! 😌☝🤍

You were trying to concentrate on the plan Rick was explaining to attack the Saviors.

You were really trying with all your might, but it was proving IMPOSSIBLE.

The cause of your distraction had a name and surname.

His mere presence was distracting you.

The worst part?

He wasn't doing anything.

I mean, he wasn't even moving, and you were already practically drooling over him.

"I'm pathetic" you thought.

He had left the crossbow leaning against the wall, while with his arms crossed over his chest, he listened attentively to what his friend, whom he already considered practically a brother, was saying.

He listened, while you thought about how it would feel to run your fingers through his thick, long black hair while he was…

"Y/N," a voice suddenly called, pulling you out of your daze.

"I'm here!" you exclaimed, slowly focusing on Maggie's face.

"Are you okay?" She questioned, observing you as if your entire body had suddenly turned green. “You looked like you were on another planet.”

“Almost,” you confessed, “but it’s okay, I’m fine. What did I miss?”

Rick chuckled softly before turning directly to you.

“I was saying that both Daryl and you are the best trackers we have,” he said, “so you two will be doing a reconnaissance mission to see where the Saviors are hiding, their lairs, and areas they think are secret.” He whispered, “That’s where we’ll attack first.”

“Okay,” you murmured. “When do we leave?”

“There are still three hours of daylight left,” Rick said. “If you leave now, you’ll be back in time for the gates to close at night.”

You both nodded and slowly got up to leave the makeshift meeting room.

“I’ve been practicing with the bow since no one taught me how to shoot their crossbow,” you complained sarcastically, as Daryl grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

“The bow is more accurate than the crossbow” he said. “It’s not like I don’t want to teach you or anything.”

“You don’t need to explain. I already know what’s really going on.”

“Oh yeah?” he whispered, his light eyes fixed on yours. “And what is the truth?”

"The truth is, you won't teach me how to shoot the crossbow because you're afraid I'll be better than you."

"That's not true," he retorted. "You're already better than me without even knowing how to shoot it, so I don't see the need to teach you how to use it," he added casually.

You stared at him, unsure what to say, when he pointed to a path along the edge of the woods.

He bent down to examine a group of footprints on the ground before looking up at you again.

"These are human footprints" he explained. "They go from here to there, and there's quite a bit of space between each one." "They had another person with them," he said, pointing to one of the footprints. "This one is more pronounced than the others, which means two people were dragging or stumbling along a third."

"A hostage?" “You asked, and he nodded, his damn long hair falling lightly over his eyes again.

“That’s my main hypothesis, yes,” he said, making you roll your eyes.

“Your ‘main hypothesis’?” you questioned. “Someone’s been spending time with Eugene, it seems.”

“He taught me how to make ammunition,” the dark-haired man confessed, “and in return, I listened to everything he had to say about string theory.” He snorted. “I’ve been talking to him about it for days, and I still don’t know what it is.”

“Me neither,” you murmured, making him nod, before continuing through the woods.

Daryl’s gaze would occasionally shift behind him, so he had you perfectly under his control.

He could tell with absolute clarity if something was wrong, if a thought was troubling your mind, or if, regardless, you needed to rest for a while.

This time, it was the latter.

You had such a focused expression on your face that it was impossible not to notice something was wrong.

"You can tell me, if you want" he blurted out suddenly, snapping you back to reality.

"What do you mean?" you asked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You haven't said a word for ten minutes," he said. "That's reason enough to worry me," he whispered. "I'm just saying you can tell me, if you want," he murmured gently.

"Okay, if you insist" you murmured. "The reason I'm like this is your fault."

"My fault?" he questioned, looking at you intently. "Did I do something to make you uncomfortable, or…?"

“No, no, nothing like that, quite the opposite, you’re always very good to me,” you replied. “It’s just that lately I’ve been having recurring thoughts in which you’re the main character, that’s all.”

You walked a few steps into the woods, but as expected, he caught up with you in no time.

“You can’t just say something like that and leave,” he murmured, making you turn around to look at him again. “I deserve an explanation.”

“You’re right” you replied firmly. “I don’t know how can I say it, so I'll just do so—you swallowed hard—I'm in love with you—you whispered—I know perfectly well that you don't feel the same way about me, and that's fine, it's no big deal. So…—you shrugged—well, I've said it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to the city before a walker kills me, or worse, before I die of embarrassment.

"You can't die of embarrassment, and we both know that if a walker appeared here right now, you could take it down without any problem," he argued.

He paused for a moment to look at you more closely before speaking again.

"I feel like an idiot," he confessed. "How could I not have seen it?"

"I'm not exactly known for being very expressive, to be honest," you laughed nervously. "It's not your fault, Daryl, really."