brienne of tarth
jealously
not a joke
no one hurts you
rest
together again
tywin lannister
love can bloom
sweet little dragon
may i have this dance?
it was my mothers
everyone needs some comfort
nightmares
sandor clegane
waking up to you
flowers
you are the one i want
oberyn martell
enough of this
house of the dragon
ser harwin strong
the third time's the charm || part one || part two || part three
waking up to you
our final moments together
looking after a sick harwin
rainy days
no longer yours
a life together
general dating headcanons (w/ rhaenyra)
good boy *
a gift
princess rhaenyra targaryen
looking after a sick harwin
general dating headcanons (w/ harwin)
prince aemond targaryen
anything for you || i'll figure it out
waking up to you
engagement headcanons (w/aegon (separate))
protective siblings (w/aegon)
hiding
jealousy
king aegon ii targaryen
Disappointment || series masterlist
engagement headcanons (w/aemond (separate))
jealously
protective siblings (w/aemond)
jacaeys valaryon
our secret
queen alicent hightower
dragons
new sensations *
lord of the rings
legolas
injuries
clingy
stranger
aragorn
injuries
boromir
stay with me
deserve you
return to you
the sandman
lucifer
here with me
i would never hurt you
lonely
A mother's day gift for my mom, who introduced me to Middle Earth at a young age and continues to be something we bond over. I made her a character, who some of you may know as Estilil, to show her how it truly feels to put a piece of yourself in a world you love. An Ent friend, healer and rescuer, she proudly introduces baby Leanna to the great Gandalf - lover of Hobbits.
More backstory on their connection
"My, Lady Estilil... Motherhood always suited you!"
secrets are uncovered as you confront Benedict about avoiding you
word count: 848 words
reading time: about 4 minutes
warnings: none
It had been some time since you had seen or heard anything from Benedict. Considering you believed the pair of you were relatively close this sudden cold shoulder surprised you. What could cause this sudden change in demeanour? Had you done something? Said something? You could not stop the thousands of possibilities of what you might have done to flood your head.
You had given him space for some time, in the hopes whatever it was would pass and you both may return to normal. But it seemed time had not wavered the cold shoulder you received. Thus, in an attempt to find an answer to your burning question, you confronted the man. No longer would you wait for him to come to you.
"Benedict, wait."
Finding in the crowd of a ball you attempted to confront the man. You deserved an explanation for his actions. No longer being able to live in the dark. Yet, it seemed Benedict was not ready to talk to you. The man weaved through various people that danced or talked. In the word of people, you were determined not to lose him. Twisting through the small gaps between people you followed the man, keeping an eye on where he was walking.
It was not long until you followed him out into the night. The cool air nipped at your exposed skin, forming goose bumps on the skin. Though this cold air would not deter you from your mission. You had set your mind to this and you would not see yourself backing down.
"Benedict, please, just tell me what I can do to make this right."
Your voice was pleading as it carried in the wind as you remained a few paces behind him. Benedict simply strung you along to where ever he desired to go. It was deep in the gardens that Benedict finally decided to stop this little game of chase. Between large hedges, trees and flowers. The sound of the music inside was now fair behind you both, only the faint tune of the trumpet could be heard.
The large moon above you both was the only light that was provided for this meeting in the dark. For a moment you worried about what others would think if they were to stumble across you both. At night. Uncharpored. Alone. You would be ruined. There was so much on the line for you to simply try to get a few words from Benedict and it angered you.
"Tell me what I have done. Please. I can make this right, I swear it. Why have you been avoiding me?"
Your voice was louder than you expected. It shocked you when Benedict whipped around to face you, having half expected the man to simply pretend you were not here. He seemed conflicted. His eyes held an inner struggle. Reaching out like one would a wounded animal, you took Benedict's hand in your own. Carefully running your thumb over his knuckles.
"Speak to me, please"
"You have done no wrong. It is I that has wronged you."
His response shocked you. To your knowledge, he had not done anything that could grant you to be upset with him. Was this truly all about something he believed he had done to upset you? It seemed so stupid.
"You have not done anything. I do not understand. Stop being foolish, I-"
“Every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”
The words that came from Benedict were rushed and strung together. It took a moment for your brain to process what he said as words and then another moment to truly understand those words. Kissing? You? His face was flushed, eyes not daring to meet yours. He has had many flings in the past, all of which he had the confidence of a King. But it was different with you. He did not hold lust in his heart like he did them, but he held love. A pure unfiltered love, that he only carried for you.
"I do not understand? That is why you have been avoiding me? Leaving my letters unanswered? Because you desire to kiss me?"
There was a beat of silence as Benedict struggled to form the words in his mind. You allowed him time to think, and your hand gave him a gentle squeeze.
"It is more than that... I... My.... My mind is completely entrapped by you. Every waking moment I spend thinking of you. Your smile. Your laugh. Your eyes. You have consumed utterly consumed me."
"Oh, Benedict..."
Your voice trails up as you inch closer to him. A hand reached to caress his cheek as your soft lips connect with his. You felt his hand wrap around your waist, holding you as though you may slip away. He needed to know you were real and this was not all just a fantasy he had conjured up in his mind. But you were real, this was real, and he could not be more ecstatic.
you find hunter injured and some angered words are exchanged
word count: 388 words
reading time: about 3 minutes
warnings: none really
"What the fuck were you thinking?"
Your voice was loud despite the close proximity between yourself and Hunter. What you did not expect was for him to message you to meet at his house, only for it to be so you can see the damage on his face. The deep bruising by his eyes, the cuts and dried blood on his face. You knew of his rather short temper and inability to keep his mouth shut. You suspected it would get him in trouble, but not to this extent.
You quickly found yourself cleaning the cuts on his face softly, wanting to ensure they have been cleaned and bandaged properly. You doubted Hunter would wash them, simply allowing them to heal and close by themselves. Thus, it was left on you to patch the boy up. Crouching between his legs as he sat on the edge of his bed, reaching up and dabbing cotton pads to his skin.
"I was thinking of sticking it to the man. Those rapist jocks shouldn't be able to get away with th-"
"No, you weren't. You were thinking how much can you get away with before you get my ass beat."
You snapped cutting off Hunter as he attempted to explain himself to you. Though you had heard enough of his half-baked excuses that focus on the wrongdoings of others, not his own. But enough was enough, you no longer wished to feed his delusion, especially if it resulted in him getting his ass kicked.
At your harsh words, Hunter physically retracted moving away from your touch. His reaction broke your heart, you did not wish for him to fear you. Your grip tightened on the cotton pad as your hands returned to your sides. Letting out a deep huff silence engulfed the room, settling over you both.
Neither of you knew what to say, nor what to be the first to back down. Turning your head, you decided to occupy yourself by looking at the different band posters that littered the walls. Yet, even that could not stop your racing mind.
"I just... I just....worry."
Your words hang in the air for a moment as you struggled to get the words out. Not knowing how to describe the emotion and thoughts flowing through your mind.
"Why?"
"Because I care for you, more than you may know or believe."
based on the song 'this is my idea' from The Swan Princess
word count: 1682 words
reading time: about 7 minutes
warnings: none really
I can't believe I'm stuck with her all summer
I bet she doesn't wrestle, hunt or box
The boy who stood in front of you looked conceited. The brown, untamable hair that looked similar to a bird's nest you had passed in the carriage. He looked rather unimpressed as his eyes scanned you, for someone so young he seemed to resemble a sour-faced mother.
"Where are you manners dear? Introduce yourself."
The voice of your father filled your eyes, causing your eyes to cast back to him for a moment. You were sure your face convey a look of uncertainty almost asking if you truly must indulge this idea. The carriage ride to the countryside had taken some time, Adurey Hall, they had called it. The best place to spend the summer, or so you were told.
"(Y/N), a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
As you bowed her head slightly to show respect there was a beat of silence. It caused your eyes to flick up, wondering what fool did not understand how to greet someone. You watched the shoulder of the boy in front of you get knocked forward, a puff of air leaving his chest. A scowl formed on his face as he stepped forward bowing his head and holding out his hand.
"Benedict."
As he took your hand in his there was a small pause again, both of you looking back to your parents. Almost pleading for them to intervene, asking them with your eyes if they were truly going to make you both do this. Yet, all that was returned were encouraging smiles. The kiss on the back of your hand was quick, you quickly retracted your hand to wipe it on your dress and him to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.
What a fun summer you had in store.
We've tried all summer but we just can't lose her
"Wait up! Anthony! Benedict! This isn't funny!"
Three pairs of footsteps could be heard running across the floors of Audrey Hall. Maids clinging to the walls of the halls as three children barrel through. The two boys were much fast than you, something you blamed on your skirt. You could hear their mutters of each other, encouraging the other to run faster in an attempt to lose them.
The doors flung open as the trio ran outside, the boys gaining ground against you. The wooden floor you had been running on quickly changed to stone and then uneven grass, that you were sure you were going to trip over. The ground only worsen as you trailed the boys to the forest that encased the grounds. Perhaps if you were in the first under better circumstances you would not be so annoyed.
"Quick, Anthony! Before she gets here."
You could hear Benedict urging his brother to climb the rope ladder to their little treehouse. Moving forward, your fingers just missed the rope of the ladder to the treehouse. The two boys are much too fast in pulling it up and away from you. Looking up at them with an angered and displeased expression you were only met with their smug ones. Having gotten out of having to spend any time with you for now.
"You'd think she'd take a hint a learn to read."
You could hear Benedict tease, waving a piece of paper at you from his higher position. Squinting you could make out 'no girls' in scratchy words and a terribly drawn picture of what you assumed to be you.
With a huff, you picked a plank of wood that stood tall near the tree. Though it seemed to be the main support of the tree house as you heard the planks of wood groan and shift under the boy's weight. Before it all came crashing down around you, boys included.
She tries to talk me into playing dress-up
She's always flirting with the castle guards
You don't quite remember when you had given up trying to befriend Benedict. It was clear the pair of you simply had no intention of ever wanting to get to know each other. Perhaps if you both had not been forced together for months, since you were both young, it would be different. Now you seemed to spend your time with the Bridgertons entertaining his younger siblings, gossiping with Daphne and talking to the various servants.
It was not unusual to find yourself outside, you enjoyed the time away from the ton and in the countryside. Yet, this particular time you seemed to be occupying your time talking with a footman. He was rather young and you must admit, easy on the eyes. You sparked up the conversation with him during your walk around the grounds. Asking him to accompany you on a quick walk in the nice weather.
"Why, I did not know you were so knowledgeable on the different Flora around Britain."
Your voice was smooth as you spoke, looking at the young man from the corner of your eyes. The pair of you stood a respectable distance apart. You heard him chuckle before he answered, turning his head to face you.
"Well, miss, I tend to find myself out in the forest in my free time."
"How wonderful,"
You muse a small smile on your face as the pair of you turned to head back to the manor. Though a figure in one of the many windows caught your eye. Squinting slightly you attempt to figure out who happened to be spying, you assumed it would be Daphne, the girl would want to know everything as soon as you get inside. But much to your surprise the figure was none other than the man you were avoiding, Benedict. You could not make out his face, but you could tell by his body language that he was not in the greatest mood.
I'd like her better if she'd lose at cards
Sitting across from Benedict you peer over your cards at him. There was one thing you both agreed on, and that was a love for card games. At times you had both been known to wager something, a necklace here or a few coins there. But during your winning streak, Benedict was too fearful, having already lost too much. He already owed you one of his paintings and some poetry.
You pretended to not notice Colin peering over your shoulder, trying to grab a look at your cards. You doubted he could see much or even knew how to play. You watched Benedict's movements carefully, you doubted he would suddenly win this round, you weren't worried about losing.
"Four sevens and a ten."
"I think I've won again."
Your words were covered in honey as you showed your card. Displaying them opposite his with a smirk playing on your lips. You could not help yourself, it felt nice to win against the boy. Considering you could never seem to win against his older brother. Small cheers from Daphne and Eloise were heard as Benedict groaned and leaned back in his chair unimpressed.
For as long as I remember
We've been told we'd someday wed
Somewhere along the years you and Benedict had figured out the reason why you were both forced together every June until September. Your fathers had been friends and you guessed they desired a way to keep your families close. Unfortunately for you, you had simply been born close to Benedict. Thus, it seemed simple that the pair of you should wed. Though it was rare they spoke about it, there were always countless hints and pushes to shove you both together.
Being pushed around in this manner was not want you had expected during this visit to the Brigdertons. You could feel your father pulling and shoving you in all sorts of directions. Your unhappy grumbling going unheard by the man. That morning you had been shoved into a rather nice dress and your corset did up so tight you were sure you were going to pass out.
I see him smiling and my knees start buckling
I see inside him and my doubts are gone
You heard the door shut behind you, your father leaving you in a room by yourself. Hearing another door slam shut on the other side of the room. Casting your eyes over you saw Benedict. He seemed to change over the last time you had seen him, matured a bit more. He did seem so brash and aloof as before, more refined and put together.
You watched his eyes as he scanned you as well, realising he was not alone. Confidently you took a few confident steps towards him. Though he seemed to stumble a little at the start he was quick to extend his hand as he meet you in the middle. Extending your hand he grabbed it softly, you took note of the charcoal on his fingertips that he had not seemed to clean yet. Though you did not seem to mind all that much. Softly kissing the back of your hand he would straighten up once more. Yet kept his hand on yours, it brought a smile to your face.
"How have you been these past months?"
Your question breaks whatever trace the man was under, bringing his attention back to you. There was a pause as you watched him think of a response. Perhaps not all that much had changed since you were young, the man still needed to be pulled through conversation.
"G-Good! I've been good."
"That is good it hear."
There is another pause for a small moment before he seemed to catch on to what you were waiting for.
"And how have you been?"
"Well, I spent the colder months inside by the fire."
"Good, good. I had painted the manor in a winter setting. I would be happy to show it to you."
"It would be my pleasure to see."
This is my idea
This is my idea
What a good idea, it's such a charming and romantic notion.
based on the song 'this is my idea' from The Swan Princess
word count: 1682 words
reading time: about 7 minutes
warnings: none really
I can't believe I'm stuck with her all summer
I bet she doesn't wrestle, hunt or box
The boy who stood in front of you looked conceited. The brown, untamable hair that looked similar to a bird's nest you had passed in the carriage. He looked rather unimpressed as his eyes scanned you, for someone so young he seemed to resemble a sour-faced mother.
"Where are you manners dear? Introduce yourself."
The voice of your father filled your eyes, causing your eyes to cast back to him for a moment. You were sure your face convey a look of uncertainty almost asking if you truly must indulge this idea. The carriage ride to the countryside had taken some time, Adurey Hall, they had called it. The best place to spend the summer, or so you were told.
"(Y/N), a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
As you bowed her head slightly to show respect there was a beat of silence. It caused your eyes to flick up, wondering what fool did not understand how to greet someone. You watched the shoulder of the boy in front of you get knocked forward, a puff of air leaving his chest. A scowl formed on his face as he stepped forward bowing his head and holding out his hand.
"Benedict."
As he took your hand in his there was a small pause again, both of you looking back to your parents. Almost pleading for them to intervene, asking them with your eyes if they were truly going to make you both do this. Yet, all that was returned were encouraging smiles. The kiss on the back of your hand was quick, you quickly retracted your hand to wipe it on your dress and him to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.
What a fun summer you had in store.
We've tried all summer but we just can't lose her
"Wait up! Anthony! Benedict! This isn't funny!"
Three pairs of footsteps could be heard running across the floors of Audrey Hall. Maids clinging to the walls of the halls as three children barrel through. The two boys were much fast than you, something you blamed on your skirt. You could hear their mutters of each other, encouraging the other to run faster in an attempt to lose them.
The doors flung open as the trio ran outside, the boys gaining ground against you. The wooden floor you had been running on quickly changed to stone and then uneven grass, that you were sure you were going to trip over. The ground only worsen as you trailed the boys to the forest that encased the grounds. Perhaps if you were in the first under better circumstances you would not be so annoyed.
"Quick, Anthony! Before she gets here."
You could hear Benedict urging his brother to climb the rope ladder to their little treehouse. Moving forward, your fingers just missed the rope of the ladder to the treehouse. The two boys are much too fast in pulling it up and away from you. Looking up at them with an angered and displeased expression you were only met with their smug ones. Having gotten out of having to spend any time with you for now.
"You'd think she'd take a hint a learn to read."
You could hear Benedict tease, waving a piece of paper at you from his higher position. Squinting you could make out 'no girls' in scratchy words and a terribly drawn picture of what you assumed to be you.
With a huff, you picked a plank of wood that stood tall near the tree. Though it seemed to be the main support of the tree house as you heard the planks of wood groan and shift under the boy's weight. Before it all came crashing down around you, boys included.
She tries to talk me into playing dress-up
She's always flirting with the castle guards
You don't quite remember when you had given up trying to befriend Benedict. It was clear the pair of you simply had no intention of ever wanting to get to know each other. Perhaps if you both had not been forced together for months, since you were both young, it would be different. Now you seemed to spend your time with the Bridgertons entertaining his younger siblings, gossiping with Daphne and talking to the various servants.
It was not unusual to find yourself outside, you enjoyed the time away from the ton and in the countryside. Yet, this particular time you seemed to be occupying your time talking with a footman. He was rather young and you must admit, easy on the eyes. You sparked up the conversation with him during your walk around the grounds. Asking him to accompany you on a quick walk in the nice weather.
"Why, I did not know you were so knowledgeable on the different Flora around Britain."
Your voice was smooth as you spoke, looking at the young man from the corner of your eyes. The pair of you stood a respectable distance apart. You heard him chuckle before he answered, turning his head to face you.
"Well, miss, I tend to find myself out in the forest in my free time."
"How wonderful,"
You muse a small smile on your face as the pair of you turned to head back to the manor. Though a figure in one of the many windows caught your eye. Squinting slightly you attempt to figure out who happened to be spying, you assumed it would be Daphne, the girl would want to know everything as soon as you get inside. But much to your surprise the figure was none other than the man you were avoiding, Benedict. You could not make out his face, but you could tell by his body language that he was not in the greatest mood.
I'd like her better if she'd lose at cards
Sitting across from Benedict you peer over your cards at him. There was one thing you both agreed on, and that was a love for card games. At times you had both been known to wager something, a necklace here or a few coins there. But during your winning streak, Benedict was too fearful, having already lost too much. He already owed you one of his paintings and some poetry.
You pretended to not notice Colin peering over your shoulder, trying to grab a look at your cards. You doubted he could see much or even knew how to play. You watched Benedict's movements carefully, you doubted he would suddenly win this round, you weren't worried about losing.
"Four sevens and a ten."
"I think I've won again."
Your words were covered in honey as you showed your card. Displaying them opposite his with a smirk playing on your lips. You could not help yourself, it felt nice to win against the boy. Considering you could never seem to win against his older brother. Small cheers from Daphne and Eloise were heard as Benedict groaned and leaned back in his chair unimpressed.
For as long as I remember
We've been told we'd someday wed
Somewhere along the years you and Benedict had figured out the reason why you were both forced together every June until September. Your fathers had been friends and you guessed they desired a way to keep your families close. Unfortunately for you, you had simply been born close to Benedict. Thus, it seemed simple that the pair of you should wed. Though it was rare they spoke about it, there were always countless hints and pushes to shove you both together.
Being pushed around in this manner was not want you had expected during this visit to the Brigdertons. You could feel your father pulling and shoving you in all sorts of directions. Your unhappy grumbling going unheard by the man. That morning you had been shoved into a rather nice dress and your corset did up so tight you were sure you were going to pass out.
I see him smiling and my knees start buckling
I see inside him and my doubts are gone
You heard the door shut behind you, your father leaving you in a room by yourself. Hearing another door slam shut on the other side of the room. Casting your eyes over you saw Benedict. He seemed to change over the last time you had seen him, matured a bit more. He did seem so brash and aloof as before, more refined and put together.
You watched his eyes as he scanned you as well, realising he was not alone. Confidently you took a few confident steps towards him. Though he seemed to stumble a little at the start he was quick to extend his hand as he meet you in the middle. Extending your hand he grabbed it softly, you took note of the charcoal on his fingertips that he had not seemed to clean yet. Though you did not seem to mind all that much. Softly kissing the back of your hand he would straighten up once more. Yet kept his hand on yours, it brought a smile to your face.
"How have you been these past months?"
Your question breaks whatever trace the man was under, bringing his attention back to you. There was a pause as you watched him think of a response. Perhaps not all that much had changed since you were young, the man still needed to be pulled through conversation.
"G-Good! I've been good."
"That is good it hear."
There is another pause for a small moment before he seemed to catch on to what you were waiting for.
"And how have you been?"
"Well, I spent the colder months inside by the fire."
"Good, good. I had painted the manor in a winter setting. I would be happy to show it to you."
"It would be my pleasure to see."
This is my idea
This is my idea
What a good idea, it's such a charming and romantic notion.
PRICING
1.5 cents per word (i.e. $45 for 3k words)
The basic usual fair. A self-insert reader or a simple ‘you’ reader. Describe the monster you want, the basic plot outline, and simply the wants for the story and outcome. Usually requires minimal research and prep on my end, and the story is probably mostly fluff, meet cute, etc. Feel free to give me a prompt/event you would like with the character.
GUIDELINES
LGBTQ+ relationships
polyamorous relationships
fluff, angst, smut etc
I reserve the right to deny any commissions
word count: 1358 words
reading time: about 6 minutes
warnings: angst, death, blood, gore, real sad yall
The road was hard against your knees, and the night air licked at your exposed skin. With ripped clothes and what felt like hundreds of eyes on you, you were more exposed than ever before. The throbbing pain from your face was not at the forefront of your mind. Instead, it was on the caravan in front of you. Eyes scan the group gaging their reactions, fear, anxiety, stone-faced. They were mixed. You could only guess the fear that was clear on your own face. Fear of the unknown, of what might happen, of what you feel will happen.
Your eyes lock with Daryl's, the man on his knees beside you. He looked sickly, pale from the blood loss. The gunshot going off was still fresh in your mind. How he folded and his blood splashed on the tree beside him. You were fearful then like you were now. Fearing for his life. But he held strong on like he was now. Stone facing. Not showing his emotions for the betterment of others or to keep face, to keep the people around them thinking he was strong. But even with his best effort, he was weak, hanging on by a mere thread.
The creak of a door brought your attention back to the caravan. A shabby-looking man, dressed in leather pranced out of the caravan. A stupid grin on his face and without a care in the world. Why would he care? He had everything how he wanted it. All lined up in perfect order, just for him. "Pissin' our pants yet?" Even how he spoke held cockiness. Like he was untouchable. His steps were heard throughout the group as no one dared to speak up. Too afraid of the consequences at this time. They were outnumbered, and at the mercy of these people. There was nothing they could do.
"Boy, do I have a feeling we are getting close," His eyes scan the group as he made his way to the end, towards Gabriel. You watched and listen as he spoke to the group, looking everyone in the eyes with little remorse for what he might do. He portrayed your group as the villains in this story. If you had never bothered him, he may have never bothered you. But you all knew it was bullshit. That with enough time he'd come knocking at your door looking for supplies. A payment to not come in a kill what little remained of Alexandria. That in some shape or form this was kindness. Only dealing with a small amount was kindness.
With wide eyes, you watched the barbed wire bat move closer to Rick's face. These words not registering to you, only the stubble threat. If he so please he could hit Rick with the bat. He spoke as he walked, waving the bat around like it was nothing, looking at each person with a sickly smile. How that smile burned into your brain, creeping its way into all the little corners of your mind. It was sinister. It was deranged. It was delusional. He spoke as though this was already decided, that they worked for him, that they would not fight back.
The headlights of the car were blinding, illuminating this death circle. You watched him walk closer to you, his boots crunching on the earth you kneeled on. Looking through the strands of hair you watched him eyeball everyone. Weighing them all up in his mind. He was putting a value on everyone and you only prayed you did not fall short. The question he asked lingered in the air for a moment, Rick was broke down to speak up. They had all gotten too comfortable, too soft and their softness had been exploited. This was your consequence.
"For now, I'm going to beat the holy hell out of one of you," His words stung in your brain. One of your friends, your family was not coming back with you. Was not seeing the sunrise one last time. This would be the last thing they experienced. The fear of waiting. The fear of the unknown. The fear of death. After surviving all you had endured one of you was going to finish your journey here. Not dying at the hands of the dead but instead the living.
His teasing words were met with silence as he went around testing everyone. Wanting a reaction from someone, for someone to slip up. Glenn could not keep still as he threatened Maggie. Lurching forward in her defence even if it cost him his own life. For he loved her. But he was only met with grabbing at him and blows given to him. "Nope, get him back in line." Negan couldn't care less about what happened, he seemed rather annoyed with it all, as though this was a chore. Glenn continued pleading as he was dragged back into line. Though no one seemed to care. Hope was lost. You all held no power. Rules were set after Glenn's outburst. Rules should not be crossed. Rules for this execution you had found yourself in the middle of. And yet, Negan teased, he pushed for a breaking point.
It was all like a game to him, going around pointing the bat, randomly deciding. He found this fun, your lives were nothing to him. You weren't the real threat and yet were treated as such. It sickened you to your core. The whistling. How it curled around your head before bouncing around in your brain. He was so relaxed at the chance of taking a life. You felt fear strike through your body as his bat fell on you for a moment, yet your eyes met his. The bat moved to Daryl next, making you tense. Watching from the corner of your eye. Yet, he moved on again. Dragging on this choice of life or death. It made your stomach turn and your eyes water. It made everything that came before this feel like it was for nothing.
The first smack on the back of Abraham's head was sickening. It rang out, the sound of wood meeting his head. A gasp mixed with a cry ripped from your throat. Yet, Abraham did not fall meaning he had another smack and then another and another. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you could not tear your eyes away. How his blood stained the floor and the bat. How it deepened his red hair. How it ruined his clothes. You wanted to move, to save him, to do something. But you could only weep. Only when his head was a mess on the ground could you look away.
Negan then mocked the death of Abraham. Like it was all a big joke,s something for him to look back on and laugh at. A strangled cry let you as your eyes drifted back to the scene. It was so alarming that you could not look away. That your had to keep glancing at it to wrap your head about that mush and body there was Abraham. Again and again and again Negan beat on the already dead man. There was no respect for the dead. Little care for what he had done. Even then he threw the blood in Rick's face, the blood of his friend, his brother, and his family.
You listen as he mocked Rosita. Claiming this was all a consequence, there was a reason. He wanted her to look at the bloody bat, to see how the blood coated the bat and his flesh still clung to the wire. Daryl's patients wore thin from the constant insults to people he saw as family. Death weighed heavily on his mind. For a moment you look at him and all you can see is a built-up rage, a need to act. With your eyes, you plead him not to act. You could not lose him too. But rage was stronger than love. Daryl jumped up from his place and attacked Negan. Only landing a single punch before being grabbed by his man. Even after he was shot and lost so much blood he had fight in him.
It seemed for a moment the uncaring image of Negan broke as he let out an angry no. Two men pinned Daryl down and you were powerless to do anything, to stop them, to cry out. But as the image slipped it returned, speaking of rule-breaking and the consequences this brings on the group. Daryl's outburst would result in another death. The man with the scarred face, Dwilight, offered to kill him with his own crossbow. Only then did your voice seems to find you, pulling out a weak no. A plead to stop. To show an ounce of mercy to you all. Negan's smile stretched out as he looked at you, eyes connecting with your own as you watched a plan form in his mind. Harshly he had grabbed Daryl's head, pulling it back as he spoke about not killing him. He liked Daryl's fire. But he knew killing someone else he loved would be worse than killing him.
You watched him get closer to you, his boots inching closer to your knees. You were fearful for you knew what was coming next. Daryl's eyes were already on you, you could feel them. Negans words did not register to you, it didn't matter what he said the outcome would be the same. Death. The first strike was sickening, right on the top of your head. You could feel it dent slightly, your bones snapping under the pressure. Blood was pursed from your nose and mouth from the hit. You could hear the cries. Cries that would haunt you for your last few moments. They would circle around in your head like a bad song. Cries ripped through you as he hit you again, pushing your face further into the dirt below. Daryl's cries were loud, you were sure some of your blood had stained his skin. You were so close to them that if he just reached out he could stop this. But he could not find the strength.
Blood bubbled up your throat before passing your lips and dribbling down your chest. Blood surrounded you. The colour red stained you. With what strength you had you leaned up once more. The assault had stopped for a moment. You felt numb but full of pain at the same time. Your face beaten in by the bat, breathing was hard, and strangled breaths were not providing you with enough air. Your brain was dying and there was nothing you could do. Moans of pain left you as you looked around at your family. Wanting them to be the last faces you see before the blows continued. They all held sadness at your state. Tears were in their eyes and streaming down their faces as they looked at you in horror.
Negan's mocking words did not register with you. Not being able to hear anything above your slowly beating heart and your own choked breaths. You're body convulsed with tremors, your body shutting off. Your last words were strange and stretched out, a mangled mess of groans and moans of pain. "Dar-yl... I-I'll... fin-find... yo-you." It was a mess of soft words but ones the man could make out.
The next hit of the bat came from the side, knocking you into the dirt below. Your blood spilled out from your mouth on the dirt. You no longer felt it, the pain, the fear, the despair. Hit. Hit. Hit. Until you were nothing more than mush in the dirt. Your body twitches with the last of your life before falling still. You were nothing but a stain now, a memory to your friends. Your presence would no longer bring light. Your words no longer comforting. You were gone, ripped from them, from Daryl.
His heart was no longer the same after that. You were ripped from him like everything good in life. Taken forcibly before your time. Killed in front of him, because of him. He had killed you. He had done it. He swore to protect you. To look after you. But he couldn't do it. He was too weak. He failed you, the love of his life. And for that he will never forgive himself
