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#( ch: rick grimes )
xradiant · 6 months
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@chaoticrebels gave a like for a one liner !
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"We can make this all make sense. We're going to make it all make sense."
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richonnegifs · 4 months
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THE WALKING DEAD | S8E14: Still Gotta Mean Something TWD: THE ONES WHO LIVE | S1E4: What We
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kentstoji · 6 months
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yandere rick grimes, who vehemently believes in his own illusion that you are incapable of surviving the apocalypse and need his protection, the protection of his family.
(for you, it was almost satisfying, proving him wrong. however, such a rebellious spirit only increased his desire - the group's desire - to lock you up in a safe place.)
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houseofwisteria · 8 months
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" im a what now ? A ...dilf ? "
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dunbonnets · 4 months
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EAST OF EDEN, a rick grimes fanfic.
we are the walking dead . . .
available to read on wattpad
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feathersontheclyde · 1 year
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" i don't know where daryl is . . " - from ashley to rick . . . enemies to lovers perhaps ? o.o
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Rick stares at her for what feels like an eternity, searching for ... any indication she might be lying but either the woman is an excellent liar or Negan didn't tell his people much. He isn't sure which one he wants to believe right now.
" Yeah... "
" Yeah... I've been hearin' that a lot. From the last guy... n' the one before that. Now they're both dead cause they had nothing to offer me. "
He circles her, pacing in one direction and then the other.
" That gonna be the case with you too? It doesn't have to be this way. As long as I get what I want. Negan. Dead and Daryl. "
" You see that's my brother you have locked up in that compound of yours. You hear me? My brother. My family. "
He takes the gun from its holster and inhales.
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carlsangel · 2 months
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friendly spirit (g.i.t.w, ch.1)
carl grimes x fem!reader
warning: mentions of death.
masterlist here!
other chapters here!
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Carl never lost hope. Even after the prison, terminus and the church. He knew there was something for the group out there. He was probably the most hopeful out of everyone. He always wanted to keep going, he motivated everyone. It’s definitely something he’d gotten from his dad. Alexandria was exactly what he’d hoped for. At least from what he’d heard from Aaron.
Staying in a barn that smelt like horse shit was something he’d unfortunately considered before Aaron had arrived. That morning, seeing Aaron arrive through the barn doors almost made him smile. Between arguing with his dad that Alexandria was a good fit for the group and trying to back Michonne up on the same argument, he didn’t get much sleep. The entire car ride there, Rick had a plan.
He would discuss it with them over and over, going over every possibility. That’s why, when he and the others got out of the vehicles and he saw you, he thought he was imagining it. He saw you, a girl who’d climbed a tree from what it seemed like. Eugene walked past him and when the large black mullet was out of his face, you were gone. Maybe you were apart of Alexandria.
He heard children laughing and people talking. He knew this was the right place. For him, and for Judith. He sort of knew that he was the reason they needed a settlement at all. Maybe the rest of them would’ve given up at this point. Maggie had lost Beth, Sasha lost Tyreese, Daryl lost Merle ages ago…but they still stuck around. He thinks it’s because they had a sliver of hope. Hope because him and Judith are still alive.
Seeing the houses in the community sort of healed parts of his childhood. They weren’t the wealthiest of families, he imagined living in houses as big as Alexandria’s for years. He has memories, almost faded of the three of them driving through the neighborhood where all the wealthy people lived, imagining themselves there in the future. Once Rick retired of course.
It felt somewhat ironic to him, the fact that the only chance they were ever given to live in a nice and luxurious house was when the world was on its last legs. He thought a lot. Maybe too much, even in that moment where Aaron was explaining how one of the houses was better than the other, he thought about you. He wondered if you were just his imagination, or maybe you were a threat. He didn’t want to alarm anyone. But he was curious.
He returned to the conversation to hear something about curb appeal. Aaron was about to leave, he’d motioned for the both of them to check the house out but Carl stayed back. He had to talk to Aaron, to make sure he wasn’t insanely tired and you actually did exist.
“Wait— Aaron. Before you go, I just…I saw something earlier. Well someone. I was just wondering if she was apart of the community.” He explained, He described your attributes, the color of your skin and the length of your hair and what you were wearing. He felt like you were too dirty to live here however. “Oh her? Don’t worry, she just lives in the outskirts of Alexandria.” Aaron replies. Carl’s eyebrows knot together in confusion. “And you didn’t tell us? What if she’s a threat?”
Aaron sort of chuckles and it catches Carl off guard. “We call her the ghost in the woods. We’ve had people to go out and look for her…whenever they spot her she disappears quite quick but…we can’t quite seem to catch her.” He explains. Carl still didn’t understand. “She’s not a threat, I promise. Think of her as uhh… a friendly spirit.”
He thinks about that for a moment, Aaron puts his hand on Carl’s shoulder, giving him a content smile before patting it and turning away. He stewed on the idea of you, he seriously doesn’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to join Alexandria, and why would you choose to live around it? He wanted to see you again. To meet you. He didn’t believe you were some…fairy tale. He needed to see you.
And he did. Right as Aaron walked away, in the distance he could spot you once again in a tree, just watching him. “Aaron?” He calls out, looking over to him for his attention. Once he gets it, he turns to point you out but you’re not there. Shit, now he looks stupid. “I just want to say thank you.” He says this as a cover up, but it was still mostly the truth. “Of course.” Aaron nods.
He finally tears his eyes away from the tree and catches up with his dad. He knew he had to see you, to meet you. That’d be his mission the next couple of days.
─── ⋆⋅ ꒰ა 𐚁 ໒꒱ ⋅⋆ ───
Meanwhile you’d just descended the tree. You’d walk off your small campsite which was almost never permanent. The woods surrounding Alexandria was large. Perfect for you. You hated being confined to just one area. Especially because you hate to be attached to things.
The first rule to the apocalypse is to not get attached. You found that out the hard way. Many times. Your first home, your dad, your sister. You lost everything. All you had was their belongings. Your sister’s bracelet, your dad’s bag, and his rifle. You were in fact attached to their belongings but you knew if they weren’t in your possession, you were most likely dead.
You never intended on interacting with the people of Alexandria, you just liked the security of being outside the walls. You had precaution without technically having it. If it came down to it, you knew where to go. Not to mention sometimes the civilians would leave food for you. At first it felt dehumanizing, like they were leaving food out on the porch for a fucking raccoon.
But it was fine. You were perfectly fine on your own. Sometimes it got lonely..but you’d just occupy your time listening to music with a walkman your dad gifted you before the start or reading books you found in old cabin remains and such. You’d even watch over Alexandria. Except recently things have been especially frustrating. The rifle’s been getting jammed and the batteries in your walkman have been dying quicker than usual. You’d stop listening until you really needed it. You were yearning for something new. Anything.
But soon, a new and large group would arrive. You’d watch over Alexandria often, you knew almost everyone but not one on one. You liked the reputation you upheld there. It was like knowing everyone without having to really know them. No chance to get attached. You now had a new group of personalities to dissect. At least, all the way from the trees surrounding the walls.
You took note of all of them. More importantly, the one who noticed you first.
Carl.
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i hope you liked itttt there’s more coming!
tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @lilyglasergrimes @smollbean42905 @deadgirlwalkingx @txrasbae @lalaloopsie12309 @crusadecherryblossom @violetashfall @zombiigrll @amanita-raine
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yanxidarlings · 7 months
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YANDERE TWD
REUNITED (yandere! big brother! merle dixon x male reader x yandere! big brother daryl dixon) (yandere! gareth x male reader) (rick grimes x male reader if you squint) NOTES: fair warning, this is some descriptive disturbing shit merle dixon counts as a warning on his own as well. this went in many directions i originally set out for yandere headcanons for the two, then got into the terminus arc, and ended with some pretty vague alluding to yandere. might write a part two)
imagine obsessive! possessive! big brothers! merle and daryl dixon. the dead begin to walk and they keep the darlin safe, meeting up with the atlanta camp. but the brothers won't let anyone get close to the darlin, not dale, not carl, certainly not shane or lori.
somehow, the darlin ends up going with glenn into the city on a supply run, only for it to go horribly wrong. the darlin insisted they head into a chemist to "look for medications" in case anyone in the camp needed them. but it was a lie. the darlin just wanted to find something to help merle with the inevitable withdrawal he'd go through once his supply of drugs ran out. the chemist is overrun by walkers but the darlin insists. "we can clear it!" they say to glenn "it'll be worth it for m- everyone" the korean gave the other a skeptical look. in the end, there was just too many, glenn thought he saw the darlin go down and reluctantly returned to camp.
"oi! shitface, you think you're a big boy now? can do whatever you want now everything's gon' to shit!" the raspy, harsh voice of merle dixon echoed through the camp. the redneck tramped over to the SUV glenn was parking. he remained silent as he turned the engine off. taking a deep breath, the young man exited the car, staring at the grass.
the older dixon stormed over, aggressively opening every door of the vehicle until he reached the boot. filled with supplies. "where the fuck is m/n" he growled, coming closer to the asian "he better be pullin up in another car" merle spat out. "i- it was" glenn stuttered out, looking like he was about to piss his pants "it wasn't my fault, m/n was being reckless, i had no cho-" CRACK glenn's face was soon bloodied and bruised, merle now on top of him, yelling out profanities as he beat the younger man. "merle!" the others quickly ran to pull the redneck off glenn.
"you fucking ch*ng-ch*ng bastard i'll rip-" merle was pried off glenn, who was now rolling around in agony, his face a bloody mess. "what the fuck happen'd" merle rasped out, although to glenn it sounded like a croak "where is he" merle was still being held back by t-dog and shane as he continued yelling. glenn avoided the rednecks furious gaze "the walkers got him" he finally spoke, looking down.
for a moment it looked like merle was about to cry, for a moment merle himself thought he was going to burst into tears like a sissy. "no he ain't" but instead he picked up his shotgun, and got into the drivers seat of the SUV.
that was how andrea, t-dog, jackie, glenn and morales ended up in the city. that was how merle got handcuffed to a roof by "officer friendly" and that was why daryl yelled in agony on that same roof. in the course of a day, he had lost the two most important people in his life.
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but merle had survived by cutting off his left hand, and the darlin had survived by covering himself in walker guts.
"china- no- glenn- don't- help!" the h/c-et screamed, the sound of his own gun firing defeaning his ears. as one went down, another lunged at him, rotten teeth clanking together, desperately trying to knaw into his flesh. but he wouldn't die here. he couldn't. not when merle was 'relying' on him to get drugs. maybe then, the dixons would start to treat him as less of a clueless child and more of an equal.
after taking down a few, m/n jumped behind the counter, rummaging through the medications, looking for anything that might help with the withdrawal, or better, give merle his next fix. more of the dead came at him, but he just kept shooting, stabbing, hitting, anything to cause the fatal damage needed to end the dead's miserable 'life'.
BANG one was down BANG another BANG BANG BANG .. the slide didn't move forward as he shot his way through another round. shit. he was out of ammo "glenn!" he yelled out as a walker fell on top of him, wrestling it's way closer to his skin. all the korean could hear was m/n's screaming. which only attracted more walkers. he saw the medicine that m/n had thrown over the counter before going down, stuffing it into his bag, he creeped up closer to the group of walkers that had acculumated, following the sound of m/n's scream. until it stopped. "m/n?" he uttered under his breath, but the pile of walkers on top of each other told him the other was dead. with tears in his eyes, glenn ran out.
m/n struggled against the strength of the walker. it was freshly turned, he could tell. otherwise it wouldn't be so strong. kicking, punching, reaching for his knife, anything to save himself from becoming one of them. plunging his blade into the side of the walkers head, he quickly slit the once-man's throat. covering his face in the blood. before moving down to the abdomen. cutting it open, letting the walkers rotting insides pour out all over him, the ones that had piled on top soon couldn't distinguish the smell of living flesh from rotting blood.
he went silent, breathing shallowly, hoping, praying, they'd move off him and he could silently slip out. but when he was finally free of the chemist, glenn, the supplies they had gathered, and the SUV were gone.
he walked the dead-ridden streets of the once bustling city, covered in blood, hidden in plain sight. he kept walking (which then turned into a limp after getting hit in the ankle by a flying bullet) becoming weaker with each step, hoping to make his way back to camp. only to come to the end of the trainline leading into suburban atlanta. TERMINUS the building read "those who arrive survive" he heard a feminine voice call out from the speakers. maybe they have gauze. he glanced down at his leg, the sleeve of his shirt he had tied around it now dyed red.
"community for all; sanctuary for all" he saw a young man- perhaps just a little older than m/n was, staring down at him from the window. something felt amiss, off, but m/n had lost so much blood he didn't care. he stumbled towards the train station, stopping and starting as he debated his decision.
daryl, merle.. they'll be wondering he thought to himself, stopping for the 5th time, but i won't make it back he began walking again but they'll be looking for me he stopped, nearly tripping but the sudden lack of motion if i found this place they'll find it too he picked up the pace again, frantically moving towards the gates but- as he stopped himself once more, he finally tripped over. right onto the walker trap the train people had set up. his left ribcage was pierced by the sharp metal pole sticking out of the ground, causing the h/c-et to let out a loud screech.
before he knew it people had come out, the same man that had stared at him through the window moments earlier put his hand on the wound, causing m/n to flinch "we're you trying to get yourself killed?" the man mused, seemingly unphased by the active bleeding out that was happening in front of him. the man spoke more words that were muffled as m/n fell out of consciousness.
it was pitch black when he opened his eyes. not a shred of light to allude to the location. pitch black. m/n's hands brushed her his torso, feeling the gauze that was tightly wrapped around his chest. it all came back to him. the chemist, the walkers, glenn, the train people. he shifted his arms, feeling the thin material he was lated on, and the cold metal it covered. attempting to hoist himself up, pain shot through his body.
letting out a groan, he laid back down, closing his eyes. is this death. it certainly felt like it. the nothingness, the pain, it was all he had ever imagined death to be like. what felt like hours passed, the nothingness was almost comforting, how long had it been since he could lay like this and do nothing with no worries. it was all ended when the creaking of the door signaled to m/n that he was not in-fact dead.
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the sudden brightness was blinding "you awake?" a masculine voice spoke. m/n's eyes began burning from the light, "i guess" he replied quietly, his eyes closing. "good" the male put down a plate next to where m/n laid "eat up. i know this isn't the warmest welcome, i would have liked to show you around first" the man chuckled, leaning down, seemingly to get a good look at m/n.
the man- who introduced himself as gareth, began speaking about the community- terminus. that they did whatever they had to for survival, that m/n would have to prove himself loyal if he wanted to become apart of the community. he wasn't sure how to tell this gareth guy that he was leaving as soon as possible to find his group.
the discussion started off normal as m/n finished his food, until gareth started talking about how lonely he was, as the leader of this terminus community. it only got creepier as gareth started to call m/n pretty boy, edging closer to him. m/n doesn't want to know what would have happened if that middld aged lady (gareth's mother), hadn't called the man away.
it quickly became evident to m/n that he was never going to leave. gareth locked him in the pitch black train car for hours on end, opening the door when there were armed men to prevent m/n from trying anything. gareth would sit with him and talk, running his hands over the male's body, stealing kisses, it was a reprehensive routine m/n had become forcibly accustomed to.
it all changed the day the hunters attacked. m/n was in his train car, as usual, listening to the outside screams, wondering if the attackers were dead or alive. he knew they were alive when one pried open the train car door, and threw them self on him. he was then thrown into a cramped train car with other terminus residents, where the hunters hand picked who to assault and slaughter each day. he and gareth spent their days huddled up together, talking about their lives before. had m/n not accepted the hunters offer to leave the train car if he worked for them, gareth wouldn't have lost his mind. but m/n was desperate to get away. from the train car. from terminus. to find his family.
but the hunters caught him trying to leave. they did their absolute worst to him and then threw him back in. when the termites took back terminus, gareth locked the leader of the hunters and m/n into the same train car. "this is what you deserve" he told him, before locking the door shut.
perhaps it was years, perhaps it was months, maybe it was only a few hours. the horrors of the train car began to unfold, as the man who had once led the attack on terminus lost his mind: pouncing on m/n at random, screaming for hours straight, trying to eat m/n alive when they'd be deprived of food, ripping his ear off in hungered insanity. as m/n laid there bleeding from his ear, he decided either i escape or i die. had running worked before? no. was he willing to die trying? not really, but a man would do anything for freedom, and that's what m/n did.
the hunter had fallen asleep, a fatal mistake, as m/n wrapped his hands around the mans unshaven neck and squeezed. within second the man awoke but m/n was relentless, not letting go until the other went limp. i just have to wait now he cried to himself, hands shaking. calming, he began to strip the man of his clothes and use the fabric to restrain his limbs.
waiting for the termites to open the door with the meal made of human flesh felt like an eternity. the familiar sound of metal scratching and creaking filled m/n's ear, who quickly sprung into action.
grabbing the reanimated hunter by the hair, he guided it in the direction of the door, throwing it towards the woman holding their plates. she screeched as the hunters corpse sank it's teeth into her flesh, blood pouring from the wound.
m/n grabbed the woman's gun and bolted as the nearby workers aimed their guns at the walker, taking it down swiftly, but m/n had already gotten out of the train car. hiding behind what once was his cage, he shot at every person who came into view. eventually making his way to the fence, through the woods, he didn't stop running until the sound of gunshots stopped entirely. even then, he kept running. he ran for what felt like hours until his lungs couldn't take it anymore. collapsing onto the dirt, heaving in and out.
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woodbury had fallen, it's entire population now living in the prison nearby. rick had relinquished his leadership, insisting the prison be governed by a council. he often went on runs by himself, to get away from it all, to look back on his actions, to find lost survivors. it wasn't everyday rick grimes came across a twenty something perhaps younger male covered in blood, breathing like he had never tasted air before. well, usually the young men were walkers. but this one was very much alive.
"please don't" the male groaned out, eyes wide, as rick approached with a knife. "who are you" he drawled out, kneeling down to get a good look at the other. the young males face was bruised, his hair covered in blood, an ear was missing, and the male was emaciated. "uh" the male seemed to have to think about it, as if he hadn't spoken to another human in years "m/n" he finally puffed out, bringing his hand up to his head, where the left ear once was.
rick's hands brushed m/n hair out of his face, causing the male to flinch away "how many walkers have you killed" the older man finally asked after several moments of silence. m/n just stared at him, as if to say he hadn't been keeping track "how many people have you killed" still, the same look. "water" "what" rick narrowed his eyes. m/n used his free hand to shakily point to the man's bag, where a bottle of water was latched on to the side.
rick was silent as m/n chugged the water down "do you have anything sweet?" "no i don't" "oh" something about the boy felt familiar. didn't glenn mention originally going into atlanta to find a boy with a similar description? maybe it was just that the male reminded him of his own boy in a way, or maybe he had already developed a fondness for m/n. "i have a camp" rick looked m/n in the eye "we have walls, food, a community, a doctor that can look at your wound" he added.
the h/c-et shook his head "not again" rick furrowed his brows "what" the boy started to pick himself up "i gotta, um" he started feeling around the ground for his gun, "gotta go" he finished as he felt the handle of the gun. stuffing the weapon into his belt, he stood up, using a tree as a crutch. "c'mon kid, you're going to die out here" rick leaned forward and took the gun out of the others hand "no im not! give it!" m/n lunged forward, only to awkwardly fall into rick's chest, sinking down back to the ground.
"you've got two bullets left" m/n looked up at rick with a glare "either you come back to my camp with me or i just wasted my water on a dead man" m/n held his glare until the sun got into his eyes. "whatever" he looked down, hoisting himself back to his feet with the help of rick's hand.
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daryl squinted his eyes as the evening sun glared down, merle had stolen his motorcycle. again. the older dixon was always going off on fun runs without informing anyone beforehand. perhaps because the redneck had never really been accepted into the group like daryl was.
taking another bite of his pork chop, daryl grunted at carol who told him to go in and get some rest. but why would he want to rest when all he could think of when his mind was unoccupied was his baby brother, the boy he had pretty much raised, who was now probably a rotting corpse in atlanta. but daryl still held out hope that m/n had gotten out, that he was safe, that he would find him oneday. this was why he never rested, these thoughts would creep up in the younger dixons head.
the sound of his motorcycle rumbling told him that merle was back. the older dixon sauntered over to daryl, a cigarette sat between his thin lips, "look what you're big brother merle got you, darylina" he pulled a pack of cigarettes out his pocket, sliding it into daryls pocket. daryl said nothing, staring into the distance; was that rick? the figure was too far away to discern.
"dad!" carl called out, jogging down. "look what i- m/n?" the young grimes exclaimed as he came closer to the pair. rick carried the half-conscious boy through the gates "you know this guy?" rick looked at carl, who flicked the hair out of m/n's face to get a better look "he was with us back in atlanta, we thought he died on a run"
daryl's heart stopped, did he hear carl right? they were pretty far away. standing up, he threw the pork bone aside and marched towards the two- three. when he finally came close enough to see the persons face, he had to stop himself from tearing up in front of carl and rick "m/n" he uttered out quietly. the father and son came to a halt as he approached "you knew this guy back in atlanta" rick nodded at daryl "'course i did. he's my brother" daryl was quick to take m/n off rick. he wanted to cut the mans arms off just for touching his precious brother.
daryl rushed m/n into the prison, settling him in his cell, "go get hershel" he told carol, who looked just as perplexed as merle did as he walked into the cell. "m/n!? i thought you was dead" he breathed out, shoving daryl out the way, who was quick to push back, both wanting to be as close to their younger brother as possible "where'd you find him" merle looked over at rick, who was standing out front the cell "in the woods, looked like he'd been running"
rick moved aside as hershel came in, merle reluctantly stood up as hershel sat to access m/n's condition. "he's lost a lot of blood" hershel examined the ear hole where the flesh and muscle had been ripped from "we should have bob look at him, but from what i can see he needs bandaging and antibiotics" daryl grunted "i ain't letting no stranger touch him" he ushered hershel away, taking m/n's hand in his own "i found antibiotics on last weeks run, that gon' be enough" merle looked over at the old man, who nodded "we'll have to see how he reacts"
neither daryl or merle left m/n's side whilst waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. it was strange. no one in the prison had ever seen either of them so worried for or attached to someone. but for the six days and nights m/n spent unconscious, his body fighting off the infection from his wounds, recovering from the months of maltreatment.
when m/n finally opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, daryl was leaned against the wall at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the boys face "sleep well?" was the first thing he said after the two had stared at each other for what felt like an eternity "yeah" m/n spoke softly.
"i should have never gone hunting that day" "am i dead" the two spoke in unison. daryl breathed out "no, never gon' let that happen" he shuffled closer, laying down next to the youngest dixon.
daryl stared at m/n intensely, until merle was roused from his sleep "m/n, i told you not to go out of my sight" he grumbled, sitting forward. m/n looked up at the metal frame of the top bunk "i just wanted to get you some narcan" merle stared at him, blinking away tears "didn' have to risk your life for it" he pursed his lips "i ain't worth you dyin'" he added quietly, sitting back, his eyes not leaving m/n's.
the room went silent for a moment "maybe not, but you're my brother" m/n closed his eyes for a moment "do you guys have pop or candy here?" he questioned hopefully. merle let out a chuckle "i found a can on my run today" he chuckled out, before going quiet "i chugged it on the spot"
"you piece of shit!"
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zombiigrll · 20 days
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─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────
☆ ON THE EDGE ⋆ CH.2 ⋆ YOUR SPOT ☆
.ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.8K
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'i'm rick grimes, welcome to alexandria.'
-
your eyes widened slightly at what seemed like a pretty instant decision. you were sure it was because of how you flinched when he almost shot you, or the fact that you were obviously younger and not seemingly a threat.
once you realized you were staring for a bit, you cleared your throat and nodded vigorously. "oh, yeah, sorry. thank you."
you followed him into the gates, and into the yard of what he called alexandria. "i'll show you around later, but i think you would like a shower?" rick asks, walking in the direction of what you assume was his home.
you look down at your clothes, and examine just how dirty you were compared to everyone else. "yes, please." you laughed, following him into his house.
he walks up to a bedroom, and tells you to wait outside of it. you lean against the wall and wait for him to come back out.
"here, some clean clothes." rick smiles, handing over a neatly folded pile of a shirt, flannel, and sweats. "these are my son's clothes, but you can borrow them for now."
you carefully take the pile from him, trying your best not to drop it or mess it up. "thank you."
"of course. the bathroom is right there, take as long as you need and i'll be back to show you around later." he waves as he walks away.
you wave back at him before stepping into the bathroom. it was clean, and honestly felt really weird to be in. i mean, months of your only 'shower' being the rain, of course it'd be weird to see a real shower.
...
after a while of sitting in the shower, and re-familiarizing yourself with how to take a shower, you were cleaned and dressed.
you wiped the fog off of the mirror that was hung above the sink, and took in your 'new appearance.'
brushed out hair, clean face, clean clothes, clean everything. you hadn't even really seen yourself for months until now. the next thing you needed was probably a haircut, but you set that thought away to be a discussion for another time.
you exited the bathroom a bit anxiously, looking around for rick. but instead, you spotted a boy.
he was wearing a sheriff's hat, had a bandage across his eye, long brown hair, and a light blue eye.
he looks over at you from behind the kitchen counter, setting a cup down. "can i help you?"
your eyebrows raise. "uh.." your mind goes blank, unsure what to say. "why do you have an eyepatch?" you blurt out, mentally facepalming once you realize what you had asked him.
"why are you wearing my clothes?" the boy snaps back, crossing his arms and tilting his head at you.
you nod. "sorry. um, what's your name?"
"i'm carl." he takes a sip of his drink. "now, who are you?"
"i'm y/n." you sighed. you felt so anxious, like there was a knot growing in your stomach. "i.. sorry i stole your clothes. your dad said i could borrow them. i think he felt bad because he almost shot me."
carl's eye widens, along with his brow raising. he chuckles lightly. "of course. it's fine, i don't mind."
you sighed in relief. a longer sigh than you meant to, but apparently you were holding your breath at some point.
before you could say anything else, the front door opened. it was rick, again.
"i see you two met." rick smiles, setting his bag down. "i'm ready to show you around, y/n."
you turn and nod to him before waving goodbye to carl.
...
the tour was quite short. he showed you where the nurse was, their armory, their food, all of it. he also informed you that you could stay in their house unless you found somewhere else.
so, you returned back to the grimes' household.
rick told you where some blankets and pillows were, and said you could just bring them back to the couch. you made the couch into your own little bed, and once you sat down, it felt like paradise. you had been sleeping on rocks and sticks forever, so it really was the softest thing you’ve ever felt.
you turned on the television, and it started playing a cd that hadn’t been paused previously. it was a colorful cartoon, and it seemed to be some sort of halloween special.
you were entranced by the moving pictures, tuning out everything around you. that was until you heard the sound of someone running into a wall.
you quickly turned your head to the noise, and spotted the one-eyed sheriff.
he looked at you with widened eyes, like he had been caught. he was wearing a backpack, and had his gun around his waist.
“are you okay?” you inquire, examining his features and panicked expression.
he takes a moment to respond, rummaging for an answer. “uh, yeah.” a sigh leaves his mouth, averting his eyes. “just.. don’t tell anyone you saw me leave. i’ll be back in the morning.”
you twist your brows, making a curious expression at him. you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to.“where are you going?”
“don’t worry about it.” he dismisses your question and swiftly exits the house.
you watch him walk out the door, and you couldn’t help but start getting your shoes on. you were worried for him, although you knew he knew what he was doing, and you were also just curious. you didn’t have anything to lose anyways.
you grabbed your knife as you quietly walked out the door, following a good distance behind him.
he walked for quite some time and didn’t notice you, but you recognized the direction he was going toward. it seemed to be the same direction you found the comics at.
you watch him sit down, rummaging through the box from before. you turn to get a better look, but accidentally step on a stick that cracked beneath your feet.
carl jumps, quickly pulling his knife out, but then he spots you. you put your hands up defensively.
“…really?” he groans, putting his knife away and picking his discarded comic back up. “what the hell are you doing?”
you silently shrug, sitting down across from him. “this is your spot?”
“yeah, why?” carl's eyes stay peeled on his comic as he speaks to you.
“i slept here the other day.” you mess with your nails as you talk, a wave of anxiety flooding over you. you were never a really anxious person, so you couldn’t pin exactly why you were so anxious now. maybe it was the unfamiliarity of acceptance.
he raises his eyebrows with a nod, laughing to himself. “did you read my comics?”
“…maybe.” you sheepishly grin at him, to which he smiles back.
he sets his comic back down to look at you. “where were you before you came to alexandria?”
you press your lips together nervously at his curiosity. you didn’t think he would ask so many questions, but you felt obligated to answer them. “i wasn’t really anywhere. i’ve always been in the woods, just by myself. you and your dad were the first people i’ve talked to in weeks.”
“is there a reason for that?”
“is there a reason to you asking me questions?” you jokingly ask, laughing to yourself a bit.
he laughs along with you. “sorry. if you wanna ask me something, you can.”
you think for a moment. “uhm..” your mind goes completely blank.
you could tell that he was aware of your lack of social interaction. he looked intensely at your nervous expression. “don’t feel pressured.” carl reassures you, giving you a sympathetic smile. “take your time.”
you nod. the only question that could come to your mind being “do you have any siblings?”
he nods. “yes. my little sister, her name is judith. she’s pretty young, she was, uh.. born during all of this.”
you smile at him, the sound of a little girl was something you don’t hear often. “i wanna meet her. i had siblings, but i never really saw them. they were always busy. same with my parents.”
you didn’t know why you felt so comfortable dumping things to the boy, but he was just so… calming? the way he looked at you as you spoke, he was completely entranced.
“where were your parents?” he softly asked after a moment, sounding understanding that it could be a sensitive topic.
you simply just shrugged. “i don’t know. they were always just gone.” it was the truth. you never saw them, and they never told you why. they never could now either.
carl sympathetically nods. “i’m sorry.”
your eyes widen, his reaction leading your mind leading you to believe you could’ve overshared. it wasn’t out of character for you to do so. “no, no, i’m sorry. i.. i didn’t mean to overshare or something.”
“hey, calm down.” he calmly spoke. “i don’t care. i asked you, and you answered. you didn’t overshare.”
you awkwardly stared at him for a moment before quickly averting away, a lopsided grin appearing along your face.
you guys had just met a few hours ago, and you already felt so much. you were overwhelmed by it all. his kindness, his attitude, his humor.. and well, i guess his looks, as well.
all in a positive way, of course. he was like nothing you'd ever seen before. he was beautiful to you, in every way possible.
you looked back up to him, moving your knees up to your chest and resting your chin atop of them. "so.. do you go back home, or do you sleep here?"
"i usually come here when i can't sleep." he answers with a laugh. "if you're tired, you can go back."
you shook your head quickly. "no. i don't want to go back."
"do you want me to go with you?"
"no." he looked at you, not believing your answer.
he shrugged nonetheless, picking up a comic. you watched him silently until he looked back at you. "do you want a comic?"
you nodded, moving over to his side. he hands you a random comic and continues to read his own. you open it up, and just.. stare at the page.
like the last time you were here, you really just stared at the pages of the comic, looking at the pictures instead of reading. carl took note of this, setting his comic down again.
"are you okay..?" he laughs at your blank expression.
you look back at him, feeling your chest get tighter in embarrassment. "..i can't read it." you quietly spoke. you could feel your face getting hotter as his expression turned from perplexed to understanding.
but, instead of him judging, he took the comic from you. he set it down where you could still look at the photos, then began reading it for you.
he did slight dramatic voice acting, which made the both of you laugh. it was a very heartwarming moment for you, and you'd hope it was for him as well.
and then, you started falling asleep next to him.
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47 notes · View notes
little-reader · 2 years
Text
“The Son of A Monster” Ch. 2
Masterlist
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Carl grimes x Male!Reader
Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse
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The people talked. They looked, and glared, but didn’t have the guts to say it to your face. And since you were there to watch Carl, you lived with rick. On the couch, that's the place you said you would sleep. He gave you a blanket and a pillow that night, not speaking at all.
You sighed and laid back on the pillow that was stiff and uncomfortable. You shifted. You shifted and shifted, and shifted before sighing and stung up, throwing your legs off of the couch and over. You took your shirt off and stood, cracking your neck. This is how you slept most of the time.
You walked on the porch, around this time it was cold outside, leaving your skin a breeze of chills. Sitting on the porch steps, you picked up your boot and reached inside, grabbing the pack of cigarettes. You grabbed the lighter from the other and lit the cigarette. You breathed in and closed your eyes, dropping your head and breathing out.
You hummed, looking at the sky. You sing a nursery rhyme your mother used to sing to you. She always told it to you, to get you to sleep, your panic attacks, anxiety, little things like that. Or she just sang it because she liked it... “There once was an ugly duckling…” You whispered. “With feathers so stubby and brown.” You smiled and sighed. Deciding not to finish the old song. You got up, walking barefoot around the neighborhood.
(Next)
That morning Simon picked you up to go to the hilltop. He was running the shots there now, and you were the picker. That means, you decided, not Simon. He ran the people, you ran him.  You walked into the old museum and got introduced to Gregory. Your people started to spread around, as Simon put his hands on his hips.
“Hello!” Gregory said. Nodding
“Hello, your Gregory.” He stated, looking at the man.
“Guity as charged.” He said, walking to the center of the room. “Welcome to hilltop Colony.”
You huffed, looking at the place and the decorations. “Thank you,” Simon said, going up the stairs halfway and looking around. “You, uh, make yourself at home,” Gregory said.
“This isn’t a social call.” He said, coming back down the stairs. Gregory stuttered, denying what Simon said. “We need to talk.” He said with a smile. “And it's getting a little claustrophobic in here, right?” Gregory awkwardly nodded. “Let's talk in your study, I want to see that painting.” He said, looking upstairs. “Can’t remember who told me about it, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter much anymore. Don’t know if you heard what happened.” He said
“W- What happened?” You rolled your eyes, waiting patiently for him to hurry with his conversation.
“Well, those people you used to deal with. Our brothers and sisters in arms and operation, well, they’ve been removed from the field of play.” Simon said, looking around. You watched Gregory pet his white beard and look confused. Now if that wasn’t sketchy. He knew something. Your head tilted as you thought. 
They both continued to talk in the study, you following behind him and the men outside the room.
You sat in the chair as Simon went about the painting and Gregory kissing his ass like it was black Friday.
You waited, as he kept talking, then stopped. “Simon, get to the point. I'm not in the mood for you blathering.” You said. Stabbing your knife on the table. “And get your feet out of my face.”
Gregory looked at you in school. “That’s a little rude for a kid.” He said, making you smile. 
Simon leaned forward, moving his feet and going over to you. “Ah, you have introduced ourselves to Y/n. He’s my boss. Or well, the head boss’s, Negan's kid.” He said, watching Gregory's face drop. “He’s your Negan for now, and I’m also Negan when he’s not here.”
You stood, “Get finished here, I’m taking dan’s bike.”
“Ah, dan bike is down, we have enough room in the Negan truck, but you’ll have to ride back with us.” You huffed and left, a few men trailing behind you as they carried things around. You walked around the walls, feeling the bark and wood on your fingertips. You leaned down, watching the wind blow slightly on the flowers. You picked the purple flower from the ground and shoved it in your pocket, leaving for the truck as they called for you.
You started driving, only to get stuck all night on the road because of a walker. You snuck to the back of the truck in the middle of the night, just to sleep and pick through the boxes for something to eat. You awoke with the sound of people whispering and the truck moving. You rubbed your eyes before squinting. “Hey-” Your mouth was instantly covered by a hand, you pushed the man away, looking Carl in the eyes… eye. 
“Hush!” 
“Shut up!” Carl said, pointing a knife at you. You yelled in the other man's hand, shoving him off of you before grabbing your knife and trying to grab him, he turned and threw you off your feet and onto the outside ground. “Fuck!” You yelled as you watched the truck speed away.
You were fucked. You checked the trucks around the place you were dropped, one you found that worked, but barely. You made it halfway before it broke down and ran the rest of the way. By the time you got there, there were men on the floor being cleaned up, and your father “Delt” With it, bullshit. 
You walked the stairs until you reached, what others called, the “Whore house”. You pushed open the door and stepped inside before looking around. “You bitch.” You said, pointing at him before stalking over to him, grabbing his collar, and ignoring your dad. 
“Now, now! He is a Guest!” He said, Looking at you strangely. 
“He kicked me out of your fuckin’ truck.” You said, wiping the dirt off your shirt, which was in fact ripped into shreds. “Look at this shit.” You mumbled, taking it off and throwing it at your dad.
“Go to the infirmary, get those looked at.” He said, looking over the room. “And take Iris with you.” Iris, a girl your age, was something Negan set up for you. She was your wife, and your dad insisted more but you refused, most of the girls here were either much younger or much older. Plus they weren’t your type. 
“C’mon babe,” you said, heading out the door with her following closely. She hung on your arm loosely as you passed by other saviors bowing their heads at you. Like the others, she wore a black dress to show off her body, and ballet flats along with see-through stockings with small pink flowers sown into them. 
You knocked on the doctor's door, coming in without a second thought. “Hey doc, I need you to check on a few of these cuts, Do you mind.” You didn’t need to ask, all you had to do was sit and wait. You looked over to Iris who was patiently waiting for you to finish and sat on the bench nearest to you. “I want you to come with me, there are nice people there, plus new friends.” You spoke up, looking her in the eye and she looked up hesitantly. “You can bring your things too, I might know someone you can stay with. Plus, you cont have to dress like that all the time. Jeans, t-shirts, button-ups, things like that.
She only nodded, looking at the doctor before looking down. You sighed as the doctor finished and sent you on your way. Well, your way down to the “Hell Fire”. It's a nickname you and a few others use. A man was strapped to the chair, you knew him, though you didn't care. Iris looks into your chest as your dad put the iron to the man's face. You rubbed her shoulders as you stared, not at the man or negan, but at carl. The grimace and slight anger in his features. 
The man passed out in his chair as your dad laughed and mocked him. “Go get your things ready, there's a suitcase in my closet,” you said, she nodded and left. You walked over to Negan as he talked to Carl and a few of the men. “What are you gonna do with him?” You asked, interrupting his conversation. 
“Well, I'm gonna take him home.” He said. “And you, plus, he’s your responsibility.” You looked at carl and then Negan. 
“That’s bullshit.” You muttered and started to leave. Your father grabbed your sleeve. 
“You don’t talk to me like that boy.” He said, shoving up back. You glared at him and left out to the trucks and helped started them while getting your motorcycle. 
“Hey pal, your Wifey's coming.” Said one of the men. She came with two suitcases and a backpack. 
“Hey,” You said, lifting the two cases into the trucks and sliding them back. “Your riding with me, I don’t exactly trust those men.” You said. “Nor my father.” 
“Okay.” She simply stated. You helped her onto the bike and placed the helmet on her head and turned the engine on, driving out into the roads.
Chapter 3
164 notes · View notes
coolstoriesbro · 2 years
Text
FOR THE ONES WE LOVE | CH. 2
FANDOM: The Walking Dead
SERIES: For the Ones We Love
STATUS: Ongoing
ERA: Prison
PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader (No Use of “Y/N”)
CHAPTER TWO: New Girl
WORD COUNT: 4k
SUMMARY: After spending the last few weeks getting to know the other residents of the prison, you begrudgingly join Daryl on a hunting trip at Rick’s insistence.
RATING: Mature
WARNINGS: Language, Animal Death (Hunting)
SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N: I’m completely blown away by the response that Backseat Driver received, and am now planning to turn this into a series entitled For the Ones We Love. Thank you for all the likes, reblogs and comments. They definitely helped in getting this next chapter up so quickly. (Also, couldn’t resist since yesterday was Norman’s birthday!) My plan for this series is to start from the Prison Era, and go all the way through to the Commonwealth Era. I will not feature every event in my series, but the key plot points will be mentioned and it will (more or less) follow the same timeline. Readers, please be forthcoming with what you’d like to see. I have my own favorite tropes that I’m going to follow, of course, but would love to hear yours as well. You never know what will inspire a writer!
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“Mornin’,” Rick greeted you when you joined his family in the part of the prison where everyone ate their meals.
The former Sheriff’s Deputy offered you a warm smile as you sat down across from he, Carl, and Judith. While they did have an actual cafeteria available, it was a good distance from their living quarters and a trek through the tombs, so the group had decided to move a few tables just outside their cell block instead.
When Daryl brought you back after his run several weeks ago, Rick had been surprised to hear that he’d found you alone. A woman by herself in the middle of nowhere was always an eerie sight, but even more so these days. That knowledge alone was enough to tell him not to underestimate you. The fact that you had been able to stay alive while on your own also made him think you could become an asset to the group, which he discovered was true after he’d taken you for target practice the other day.
Carl was all smiles around you, which Rick was relieved to see. His son hadn’t had much to smile about, not since Lori died giving birth to Judith just a few days after they arrived at the prison.
“Morning,” You replied, returning Rick and Carl’s smiles with one of your own.
Rick Grimes, the leader of Daryl’s group, had kind eyes that made you feel welcome. He was a good man, and had gone out of his way to reestablish society within the prison. Upon arriving, you trusted your first impression of him enough to relinquish your weapons, temporarily and just as a precaution, he’d assured you. His rules were fair and easy to follow, and you found yourself incredibly lucky to have landed in his group. You could recall the feeling of relief settling into your tired bones; a feeling that you’d thought you’d never experience again, when you and Daryl pulled up outside of the prison that first night. Daryl may have been a lot of things, but at least now you knew he wasn’t a liar.
Over the past few weeks, you had made your rounds, getting to know all the other residents of the prison. You weren’t sure how long the group had been together before you came along, but it had certainly been long enough for them to develop friendships — even romantic relationships. You had warmed to Glenn quickly, much to his girlfriend Maggie’s dismay. There wasn’t a physical attraction on either end, but you could sense hostility coming from Maggie every time you were near. As much as you enjoyed Glenn’s company, you’d decided not to make a habit out of being alone with him. The set-up at the prison had very much saved your life, and you didn’t want to blow it over something nonexistent.
Being the leader of the group, Rick always seemed to be busy with something. Maggie’s father, Hershel was an older gentleman who spent a lot of his time planning a garden out in the prison yard, and you welcomed the things he taught you about harvesting. You noticed more than once that Daryl stood off on his own most of the time, but when he did speak to anyone, it was usually to Rick or an older woman named Carol. The truth was, Daryl hadn’t spoken more than a few words to you since the night he brought you back to the prison. While you weren’t exactly expecting that the two of you would become best friends, you wondered why he seemed to be keeping his distance.
Which left Carl and the baby, Judith. While your chores kept you busy, there was also a fair amount of downtime, and you usually spent it with them. It began gradually, since you felt it was best to keep your distance out of respect for Rick. After all, you were a complete stranger and the man was kind enough to allow you shelter in his makeshift home. You didn’t want to make him uneasy by spending too much time with his children. Carl, however, always seemed to find you, and where Carl was, Judith usually was as well. Regardless, Rick had gotten to know you well enough that he didn’t seem to mind, and had even started to ask you if you minded watching Judith when he was busy.
“What’s for breakfast?” You asked, your eyes going straight to the two beige plastic bowls that were currently sitting in front of Rick and Carl.
“Oatmeal. Actually, you can have mine!” Carl offered graciously, pushing his bowl towards you. “It just cooled off; I can make another one.”
Before you could reply with so much as a “thank you”, the younger boy hopped up and hurried over to a counter that housed the breakfast foods.
“I’ve never seen him so excited about oatmeal before.” Rick grinned, finishing off his own breakfast as he cradled Judith in his arms.
You returned Rick’s grin with one of your own. You had been given enough attention by boys and men in the past to know that Carl was crushing on you. He was a cute kid, and you enjoyed his company, but didn’t want him getting his hopes up. You were more than twice his age and any feelings you had towards him would only ever be platonic.
“Hey Juuuude,” You sang softly, leaning over to give Judith’s smooth head a gentle stroke. You had formed a habit of singing that song to the baby as a lullaby during the days you put her down for her naps. You remembered how your mother used to sing that song every time it came on the car radio, and the memory made you smile.
As you hovered over Judith, Rick was practically beaming. You were kind, and so good with his children. Hell, you were honestly a blessing after the death of his wife had taken place so recently. Rick’s smile grew as Judith waved her arms and kicked her legs excitedly at the sight of you.
“You know, she never gets this excited when I sing to her.” He commented, a comically offended tone taking over his voice.
“That’s because you don’t sing her the right songs!” You teased, sitting back down at the table and taking a bite of oatmeal.
“That right?” Rick chuckled, taking a sip from his cup of coffee just as Daryl exited C-Block and joined them.
“You headed out?” Rick asked, looking up at him.
Daryl nodded. “Can’t live on this prison chow forever. Gonna go to the woods, try to find some meat.”
Daryl took quick notice to the fact that you were spending time with Rick, Carl, and Judith. Again. It didn’t annoy him so much as throw him off. For so long it had just been them: Rick, Carl, Carol, Glenn, Hershel, and Maggie. He knew he’d done the right thing when bringing you back that night, but he still hadn’t gotten used to your presence.
Daryl may not have said much to you over the past few weeks, but he’d gone out of his way to keep an eye on you, whether you realized it or not. The truth was, he had never had to deal with a newcomer apart from Rick, and that had been entirely different. Before Rick, he and Merle had been the last to join the Atlanta group, and after that they’d all become the new addition when ending up at the Greene Farm after Carl’s accident.
“Why don’t you take her with you?” Rick suggested, nodding towards you as he patted Judith on the back.
“Why?” Daryl grunted as he lifted a cup to his mouth.
Rick glanced at you, an apologetic look on his face. “Because we could use another hunter around here, and she’s been doing great at target practice. I have a feeling she’ll do just fine.”
Daryl made a noise, somewhere between a scoff and another grunt, but nodded his head whether or not he agreed with Rick’s suggestion.
Scrunching up your nose, you spooned a few more bites of oatmeal into your mouth in attempt to hide just what you thought of Rick’s feeling. While you didn’t mean any offense to him, hunting had never been a favorite pastime of yours. You’d gone on many trips with your father and brother when you were younger, mostly as a way to spite Evan when he got cocky about his skills with a shotgun, but you’d never enjoyed it.
Then there was the thought of going off alone with Mr. Pleasant.
Oh, joy.
“You OK with that?” Rick asked.
“Sure.” You nodded, pushing yourself up from the table. “Gotta start earning my keep around here.”
“I didn’t mean—“ He started.
“It’s fine, I want to.” You smiled reassuringly at Rick, even though you were lying through your goddamn teeth after witnessing how Daryl seemed less than thrilled by the idea of you tagging along.
“Can I come?” Carl asked when he returned to the table with another bowl of oatmeal.
Opening your mouth, you were prepared to agree if Rick didn’t object, when Daryl shook his head.
“Takin’ the bike, not enough room.”
You could see how bummed Carl was by the way he slouched back into his seat, which you hated to see. Especially now that you’d learned his mother had passed away so recently.
Not wanting to disappoint the kid, you stepped in front of Daryl.
“You mean the bike that broke down?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
“It’s fixed now.” Daryl said defensively, coming to a stop in front of you as he pulled on his leather vest.
“More like for now.” You mumbled, smirking as you caught Carl’s amused gaze with your own.
Carl chuckled at your smart ass comment about the bike, but after catching sight of Daryl’s face, suddenly became very interested in Glenn and Maggie as they sat down at the next table.
“That’s right, ya only like backseats, don’tcha, Betty?” Daryl asked you tauntingly.
You frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Rick shook his head. “Daryl, ease up.”
With a shrug of his shoulders and another grumble, Daryl crossed the room, busying himself by adding his cup of coffee to the tub of dirty dishes. You narrowed your eyes, watching him as he walked off.
Rick stood up, handing Judith to Carl before stepping over to you.
“Sorry about that.” Rick began, lowering his voice. “He’s just—“
“An asshole?” You finished for him, raising an eyebrow.
Rick chuckled. ‘Asshole’ had definitely been on the list of words that he’d categorized Daryl Dixon under after first meeting him a year ago, but that had recently changed. The youngest Dixon had stepped up when he’d gone out of his way to track Sophia back at the farm, and had only continued to prove himself since then. Stepping in when Rick struggled to put Dale down himself; protecting their group as they moved from one location to the next; hunting and providing food for them — the list of his good deeds went on and on. Since then, Daryl had more than earned the title of Rick’s right-hand man. Rick just wished that he would open up and show his softer side to you as well.
“He’s a good guy. I think you know that, given how you met.”
“Well, I’m starting to think that he’s regretting bringing me back here.” You muttered.
“Give it some time.” Rick pleaded, placing his hand on your shoulder.
“Ya comin’ or not?” Daryl asked, reappearing with his crossbow and the rest of his gear over his shoulder.
At Daryl’s question, you looked to Rick, who shot you another sympathetic look. Before you could respond, he raised his hand to signal for Daryl to wait. “Hold on.”
Turning away, Rick hurried down the hallway to his cell, returning just a moment later with your revolver and knife in his hands. While you’d felt safer in the prison than you had in a very long time, the sight of your weapons brought a smile to your face, as did the thought of what it meant that Rick was returning them to you.
“I take it I’ve proven myself not to be a total psycho?” You smirked at him.
Rick chuckled, nodding as he handed your weapons over. “Just try not to kill him, would ya?”
“No promises.” You muttered, the smirk never leaving your lips as you slid the knife beneath your belt and the revolver into the waistband of your jeans.
When you joined Daryl outside by the gate a few minutes later, he unceremoniously tossed you his backpack before hopping onto his bike.
“Ya ever ride before?” He called over the rumbling noise of the engine.
You nodded, pulling the backpack onto your shoulders and adjusting to the weight of it.
“By yourself, I mean.”
“No, but my ex had one.”
Daryl grunted. “What kind?”
You hesitated. “A . . . fast one?”
As you watched Daryl’s reaction, you could have sworn that you saw the corners of his lips turn up with the slightest hint of amusement, but he soon made another disgruntled noise, making you assume that you’d imagined it completely.
“Yeah, well, mine’s faster.” He grunted. “Get on.”
Raising your hands at his declaration as he turned his back to you, you made a face as if to say “Ohhh, I’m so impressed — NOT!”,  then rolled your eyes while swinging your leg over the seat and climbing onto the back of the bike. Men were absolutely ridiculous when it came to their motorcycles. It was truly the biggest dick measuring contest there was.
Daryl felt the bike shift slightly from your weight, but kept his feet placed firmly on the ground as he straddled it, making no move to go. With a confused frown, you leaned in towards his ear. “I’m ready.”
“Told ya it’s fast.” He grumbled.
Finally understanding that this was probably as close to a warning as you were going to get from Daryl Dixon, you scooted your body closer to his, lowering your hands to his waist and gripping onto the worn leather of his vest a little harder than necessary. It wasn’t that you were nervous on bikes, just that you could feel another smart ass remark dancing on your tongue and were trying hard not to say it out loud.
Shut up. You promised Rick.
At the feel of the warmth and proximity of your body behind him, Daryl kicked his bike into gear just as Carl hurried over to open the gate. Beaming at Rick’s oldest, you raised your arm and waved goodbye as Daryl pulled the throttle, sending you both hurtling past a cluster of walkers that had gathered at the entrance of the prison.
When you arrived at your destination several miles down the road, you followed Daryl’s lead and slid off the bike before walking a couple of paces behind him into the heavily wooded area.
“Soil’s pretty soft here.” He stated, though his tone wasn’t exactly conversational. Mostly he seemed to be thinking out loud. “Gotta be somethin’ close by.”
You squinted at him in the daylight, your hands on your hips. The Georgia sun was unforgiving, as fucking usual, and you were quickly remembering another reason why you hated hunting.
“So, how’d you learn all this?” You asked; your attempt at small talk.
“Gotta eat.” He replied simply.
“But who taught you?”
Daryl shrugged.
“Your dad?”
“Not really.”
When Daryl refused to elaborate, you got the hint. His father obviously wasn’t on the list of topics that he liked to converse with people about — if there happened to be any at all. The next few hours went by agonizingly slowly as you trekked through the woods together. Though Daryl’s personality left a lot to be desired, you had to admit, the man was patient. You, however, were not.
“Maybe there’s a creek nearby?” You suggested, standing up from where you’d been leaning against a tree and brushing your hands off on the back of your jeans. “We could look around.”
“Ya bring along any fishin’ poles? Any bait?” He grunted, making you feel like an absolute idiot.
“Well, there could be mussels . . . or something close to shore.”
“There ain’t any creeks nearby.” He assured you, hefting the half dozen squirrels he’d shot and strung together over his shoulder.
As you pressed your lips together, you chanted that same mantra in your head, over and over again:
Shutupshutupshutup. You promised, Rick. Remember your promise to Rick.
As much as you wanted to keep said promise, the sun was close to setting and your patience was wearing thin. You were about to say as much when you caught sight of several streaks of gray just a few yards to your left. Daryl, clearly having had enough of you, had gone off in the opposite direction. He’d walked too far for him to hear you speak unless you shouted, and you weren’t going to risk scaring these rabbits off.
Remaining where you were, you raised your revolver in both hands, closing your left eye and lining up the barrel of the gun with a rabbit. Releasing a deep breath to steady yourself, you slid the hammer back and pulled the trigger three times in quick succession.
One – two – three.
The bullets fired and soared through the air, hitting two out of your three targets. Daryl whipped around at the sound of gunfire and watched you from behind as you stood with your back straight, your gaze focused. After slipping your gun down into the waistband of your jeans, you did a little happy dance while making your way over to collect your prize.
Picking up a rabbit in each hand, you frowned down at their corpses and muttered under your breath. “Sorry little dudes; gotta eat.”
When you looked up you found Daryl staring at you, and hesitated briefly before deciding that you weren’t going to let the permanent scowl on his face ruin your joy of contributing to their dinner.
“Aww, you’re jealous that I found them first, aren’t you?” You called tauntingly, smirking as you watched him walk towards you, shoulders tense.
Daryl huffed, readjusting the strap of his crossbow. “Beginner’s luck.”
When you returned to the prison about half an hour later the sun had begun to set. Once you secured the gate, you both headed towards a small area where a campfire was set up. Stepping towards the pit, you watched as Daryl got to work on building a fire, your gaze going to your knife as you laid the rabbits down on a nearby table. Then realization suddenly dawned on you. You may have known how to shoot those rabbits, but you had absolutely no fucking idea how to prepare the meat.
“Not so cocky now, are ya?” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he seemed to read your mind.
When you looked up to find Daryl staring back at you, your first thought was that he might actually be cute if he didn’t glower all the time, but that feeling was quickly replaced with annoyance over the fact that he was trying to take you down a peg or two.
“You know, I’m surprised you can shoot anything with that hair hanging in your eyes all the time.”
He scoffed. “Been huntin’ longer than ya been alive, girl.”
“In that case, maybe you’re getting a little too old for it?” You suggested, not even missing a beat.
While you didn’t know Daryl’s exact age, you were assuming that he was in his mid-thirties, which made you over ten years younger, and therefore gave you every right to refer to him as “old” — whether or not you actually thought that he was.
Daryl scoffed once more, but grew quiet, his steadfast gaze easing slightly.
“That wasn’t luck; your shootin’.” He finally spoke a few minutes later. “It wasn’t somethin’ ya picked up from a few days of target practice neither.”
“You’re right.” You admitted, and as you looked at him your grip tightened on the handle of your knife. You may not win this damn staring contest that he’d started, but you were at least going to give him a run for his money.
Daryl hummed and began chewing on the inside of his bottom lip as he appeared to be thinking about something. As much as you were tempted to keep an air of mystery about yourself in the same way that he seemed to like to, you sighed, deciding to just take it as a win that he was at least talking to you now.
“I have . . . “
Had?
No, that hurt too much to think about. Until you knew for sure, you would continue to use present tense when referring to your family.
“ . . . a very protective father. He wouldn’t let me move out on my own until I got a gun permit and went to the shooting range with him for an entire month. He also took me and my brother hunting when I was a kid.”
Daryl seemed to take a moment to consider that.
Again he stared, and again you stared back, wondering if perhaps he might take this opportunity to share something about himself. Instead, he finished building the fire and dusted his hands off on his pants before walking over and setting the squirrels down on the table across from you.
While you were lost in the puzzle that was Daryl Dixon, you’d mindlessly started to work the rabbit over with your knife. With a tilt of his head, he removed his own knife and slid the blade into the stomach of one of his squirrels.
Catching your eye, he nodded in the direction of your rabbit. “Try cuttin’ closer to the bone, like this.”
Your gaze went from Daryl’s face to his hands as he demonstrated by slicing into the squirrel. After a moment spent studying his technique, you used one hand to slide your blade deeper into the animal, and the other to hold it steady. Glancing up at him, you opened your mouth to ask him how you did, when you caught sight of movement behind his shoulder.
Out in the field beyond the fence stood an injured, dark-skinned woman with dreadlocks. At first you assumed it was just another walker in the crowd that seemed to permanently loom outside the gate, but then you looked closer. She was limping, bloodied, and beaten — but what truly stood out was the fact that her eyes were also dark, not the otherworldly green that all walkers possessed. This woman was human, yet surrounded by the dead, and they were completely oblivious to her presence.
“Holy shit.” You breathed, looking to Daryl before raising your arm and pointing out towards the woman. “Who’s that?”
CHAPTER THREE
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Taglist: @azanoni​, @rickysgrimes​, @dillie60​ @darylsmavis​, @starfirette​, @dxrylswalker​, @luckily-gray, @nuhogom​, @ibellpepper, @angel-winchester-dixon-mendes​, @tryingddfffggt, @averyhockstetter​, @geronimasyaferninblog, @jackstergrey 
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xradiant · 6 months
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@luckhissoul gave a like for a one liner !
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"This place? It isn't what you think it is."
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richonnegifs · 1 month
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THE WALKING DEAD | S6E10: The Next World THE ONES WHO LIVE | S1E6: The Last Time
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chrryvanillacoke · 2 months
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Survival of the Fittest: Ch 1 The Fall
The Walking Dead (2010) fanfic Rick Grimes x Original female character.
Word Count: 1524
No smut
Triggers: Animal death, character deaths, slight gore descriptions at beginning
"Summer was my favorite season, especially during August when the warm Georgia sun and the salty breezes reached their peaks. Classes had started the week prior and everything in life was perfect, til it wasn’t no more. Nothing could prepare you for how fast the world can go from perfectly normal to a fallen society overnight. Our worst enemy was now our own kind. Neighbors became threats, friends succumbed to a fate worse than death, and the dead no longer desired to rest. 
It was August 25, 2010. My best friend Maddie and I were walking to the cafeteria on campus when we saw it. One of the girls from our biology class named Hailey was on the ground screaming and wrestling a person on top of her, both covered in blood. I hadn’t noticed at first that the reason they were covered in blood was because the person atop her was biting into her neck and eating it (I can still remember the sound it made when it ripped). Campus erupted into a frenzy and I saw more of my classmates getting tackled by the same thing Hailey had, so I grabbed Maddie and took off towards my truck. I tried, I really did. I ran as fast as I could. Maddie didn’t make it. She was ripped from my arms by one of the flesh eaters. I turned around for only a second to see her swarmed by a group of them. (Where did they all come from?) I will never forget the look I saw on her face. I learned that day to never look back. The day of the “outbreak” was the last day I ever set foot on campus again. It was the last day the world was normal. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t think it will ever be normal again. "
Bella Thompson 8/31/10
After signing my name I place the pen and notebook down on my desk next to me and lean back in my chair. It’s been six days since the world fell apart. Six days of being cooped up in my family's farmhouse that resides on the outskirts of the city. 
Six days since Maddie… 
“Goddammit!” I yell, pushing away from my desk and throwing the notebook across my room. It hits the wall with a loud thud alerting my mother.
“Bella?” Her soft voice brought my attention to my now cracked open door, the light behind my mother filtering in illuminating her small frame, “everythin’ all right?” 
Her graying-blonde hair was a mess and she looked tired. We were all exhausted, unable to sleep soundly in fear of a flesh eater wandering upon our property. When I didn’t answer she stepped in my room and shut the door behind her. 
“Hun, it wadn’t your fault,” she walks over to where my notebook lie on the floor and picks it up, “Maddie wouldn’t blame you for what happened to her, and neither would her-,” 
“That’s ‘cause they're dead,” my voice barely audible, tears pricking my eyes,
“They can’t blame me ‘cause they’re dead.” I clench my teeth in hopes that the tears would go away. 
I could see my mother frown and her brows knit in contemplation as she set the notebook back on my desk. She stands in front of me, tucking my hair behind my ears. She seemed so much smaller than she did before the outbreak. Thinner, frailer,-
“We don’t know that ‘er parents are dead hun, once the radio comes back on and we hear that things are cleared up in the city we’ll head right over.” I know she was just trying to reassure me, but there was nothing that could get me to believe that things were ‘going to be cleared up,’ not after what I saw. Mom hadn’t seen what happened that day. She didn’t see or hear what happened when a flesh eater got ahold of you.
“Dinner is ready if yer hungry, yer father and brother are already at the dinner table,” she stands by the door once more, waiting for me to answer.
“I’ll be down in a few,” and with that she left to return to the kitchen. With the world the way it was we were lucky to have a semi-normal routine. The farm has been supporting my family for generations, and even now at the end of the world, the farm still stood strong and undisturbed. I’ve never been more grateful for the farm till now. 
With a sigh I stand up and make my way downstairs to the kitchen. 
“And she lives!” My father jokes as I descend the steps.
“Rob-,” I hear my mother smack his arm, his silent protests follow suit with my moms whispered pestering. I sat down at my chair at the table across from my younger brother Elijah. He was eating away at his canned Spaghettios when he looked up at me mid spoonful.
“Hey Bell.”
“Hey Eli,” I grab my spoon and take a spoonful of the can of Spaghettios in front of me.
“How were the traps with dad this morning?” I could see Eli practically jump out of his chair at the chance to tell about his adventure. 
“Had a good catch today, there was a coyote and two rabbits, one of the traps ransacked though,” he paused to look at our dad for approval to continue his story and when he gave Eli a nod he started to beam, “we also saw a flesh eater, it was caught up in one of the wire fences, very south side.” 
I could see my mother go stiff from the corner of my eye, whether it was because of me and the mention of a flesh eater or because she didn’t know about this encounter was beyond me. My dad cleared his throat before speaking.
“There was just one of ‘em, no threat, had Eli stick ‘em in the head for practice,” now I knew for sure it was because my mother was unaware of this encounter because she slams the dish she was drying down on the counter. 
“Robert, we agreed to keep Bella and Elijah away from them,” she turns around and stalks over to my father who was still seated, “WE agreed that they would not go anywhere near one, BOTH of us.” My father sighed in response, oh he was gonna get an earful tonight.
“Robert, do not sigh at me, I am your wife,” she was fuming, “anythang could have happened to either of y’all and Bella and I wouldn’t ‘ve known, what then Robert?”
“Hun,” he took a deep breath, “I’m not gonna be ‘round forever, Eli and Bella both need ‘ta know-” my mother shushes him. 
“Not ‘nother word out yer mouth Robert,'' she looked over towards my brother and I, “leave yer dinner and go upstairs you two.'' Her southern accent was thicker now. Elijah scarfs  down a few more spoonfuls and I finish the one I was on and we head upstairs. When my brother and I got to our bedroom doors he tugs on my shirt. 
“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” How could I ever say no to him? 
“Course ya can, go get your blankets and whatever else ya need,” I gave him a smile and leave my door open for him, “close it when ya come in.” 
He hurriedly grabbed his favorite blanket, stuffed bear, and pillow and leaped into his side of my bed. Luckily my bed was big enough for both of us because I would not willingly give up my bed even for him. 
I smile as I watch him get all snug under the sheets before he looks up at me looking sad.
“Mom and dad are gonna fight arn’t they?” He cradles his stuffed bear as I sit next to him. I knew there was nothing comforting I could say and there was no point in lying to him.
“Yeah, but it’s not ‘cause ‘yer in trouble Eli, it’s ‘cause mom just wants ya safe, it’d kill ‘er if somethin’ happened to ya, it’d kill all of us.”
He looks down at his hands that were now fiddling with his blanket. I lower my face to his.
“But it’s alright ‘cause it means we get ta have a sleepover,” I attempt to lighten the mood and he lets out a giggle with a mischievous grin on his face. 
“Last one ta’ sleep is a rotten egg!” He shouts and turns over on his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin.
“Oh no ya don’t!” I began tickling him and he thrashes around.
 “STOP! Bella! It hurts, I-I can’t laugh anymore,” he’s barely able to make out the words between giggles. I let up my attack on him and get under the covers as his giggles subside.
I pretend to sleep until I can hear his breathing even out. 
“Goodnight Eli,” I whisper and give his forehead a kiss, turning back over and falling asleep myself
I was greeted by Maddie’s faint screams again that night.
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houseofwisteria · 8 months
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“ i don’t want to hurt you. i am hungry!”
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He holds out his hands signally the other to settle down because right now he's just going to scare everyone.
" we can work something out! " He shouts. " But I have a few questions before I let you anywhere near us. Are you armed?! "
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bamby0304 · 2 years
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Victoria Grimes VIII: War
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Ch.11: It Happened...
Series Masterlist
Summary: Daryl and Victoria have worked through her mistakes made at the Sanctuary and have decided to keep the truth between themselves. But with the war between their communities and the Saviours brewing, their bond will be tested all over again. Lies, death and the threat of defeat are coming for Vickie… will she be strong enough to come through in one piece?
Warnings: Angst. Slight violence.
A/N: I'm giving two chapters because this one follows the show really closely... and I got a really nice review on AO3 that made me want to post :)
Bamby
RPOV
We buried Carl. In the empty lot beside our home. We buried Carl.
I’d never felt a pain like this before. Never felt this kind of loss. I’d almost lost myself after losing Lori… this felt worse.
Things wouldn’t stop, though. There was no time to grieve. No time to mourn. Not yet. Not when we’d declared war and the Saviours were out there. Carl had to wait… the rest of my family, my people, they could not.
“Hey.” Michonne came to rest a hand on my shoulder as I packed a bag full of as much food as I could. “We got to go.”
Nodding, understanding that our town, our home, was beginning to be overrun by the dead, I grabbed the bag and followed her outside and onto the street. We’d found a van that hadn’t been taken or destroyed, and packed it with as many supplies as we could. Throwing my bag in the back of it, I noticed Michonne staring at something in the distance.
It was a gazebo. A small little outdoor sitting area. One I’d seen Carl by many times before.
It was on fire.
She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “He used to sit on the roof.”
“We have to go,” I reminded her, hating that we really had to choose right now.
There was only slight hesitation before she ducked into the van, pulled out the fire extinguisher, and then ran to the gazebo.
Not wasting any time myself, knowing she was going to need help, I grabbed the other fire extinguisher and hurried after her. This was important to her, and therefore it was important to me. The hell we’d found ourselves did not mean we were going to lose everything. I wasn’t going to lose all of my son.
The fire extinguishers weren’t going to be enough to fight the flames, though. Before long, the fire grew, and walkers began to crowd us.
“Michonne!” I called out, warning her that one was getting far too close. “Michonne.”
Knowing we were fighting a losing battle, the two of us cut down the walkers in our way before making a break for it. Jumping into the van, we drove off, out the gates of Alexandria.
Our home. I’d wanted to start this fight with the Saviours to save what we’d had. I knew we were going to lose people and things on the way. I never imagined we’d lose as much as we had.
Carl had, though. He’d told me on the road after I shot in the air to scar Siddiq away at the gas station. He’d known things were only going to get worse.
“What do you think he meant?” I looked over at Michonne briefly before turning back to the road as I drove down it. Now that I was thinking about Carl I couldn’t stop. “Did he want us to stop fighting the Saviours? Just surrender to Negan?’
“We could pull over,” she suggested. “We could read what he wrote.”
I started shaking my head in response before she’d even finished. “No. Not yet. Not me.”
There was a pause as she looked at the letter in her lap before she froze. “Rick. He- Carl- he wrote a letter to Negan.”
My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I wasn’t sure what he might’ve written to Negan. I wasn’t sure if he was going to try and tell him the same thing he’d said to me. Maybe he wanted the Saviours to stop, too? No matter what he’d written, I wasn’t ready to read that, either.
“I need to talk to Jadis.”
“What?”
I nodded, seeing a new path form in my mind that could help us and our people. “They have weapons… people. We can't just give that up.”
“Why now?”
“They went with me to the Sanctuary. The Saviours saw us there. They're gonna be a target, too. We still need them. They're ours, not theirs.”
NPOV
“Hilltop is covered,” I assured Arat over the walkie.
I’d tasked her and a few others to find Rick’s people. There was no way I was letting them sneak away like they thought they had. We’d find them, and then there’d be hell to pay.
“The roads and then some. They are out there somewhere, so let's get balls deep in every nook and cranny they might hole up in.” The door opened as Simon stepped in. I lifted a hand to tell him to come in and stay quiet while I finished up on the walkie. “Nooks, crannies, and holes, people. All that shit outside the box.” Tossing the walkie onto the table, I turned to Simon as he paced at the other end. “Appears our friends at Alexandria had themselves an escape plan. Rick's little one-eyed pride and joy played me.” I scoffed, shaking my head, impressed. “Damn. That kid… that kid is built for this shit.”
He was something else. Both Grimes kids were. The way they fit in the world today was like nothing I’d ever seen. He was ruthless, smart, always thinking outside the box. She was just like him, but damaged. It gave them character. Made them useful. Made them lucky.
I knew when people were worth saving, and those two were it. Sure, I would still kill the people they loved to teach a lesson, but they had a get out of jail free card. I could use them, and I planned to do just that.
“Let me go out and close this thing,” he offered.
“Arat's got it for now.” He was tense, I could see it. Antsy. He wanted to be out there, doing something, but Simon was a loose cannon sometimes. I needed to keep him on a short leash. “How'd the Hilltop go?”
“As requested.”
“Good job.” I nodded. “With an extra attaboy on top given I know you didn't want to play it that way.”
Ignoring my comment, he went on, “You hear anything from Gavin?”
“Not yet. But it's coming. Gavin may be perpetually pissed off, but he keeps his shit dry and tight.”
He paced, hands on his hips. It was amusing seeing him so frustrated and agitated. “If I'm not running down Rick and company, where do you want me?”
Gesturing to the seat on my right, I waited for him to take a seat. “Garbage people.”
“Good. Eliminating those who reneged might leave us a tad short on ammo, but it's worth it.”
My jaw ticked as I clenched it, pissed that he still didn’t get the big picture. “I need you to hear me on this, Simon. Those piss-stained double-crossers may have pulled a triple-cross, but it doesn't change the fact that they are still a resource. So you're gonna choke back whatever shit is stirring up inside you and remind them that a deal with the Saviours is a lock, stock, suck my barrel deal. Deliver the standard message, take one out, and the rest will fall in line.” I gave him a pointed look. “Just one, Simon.”
He did not like the plan, and I’d expected just that. He was bloodthirsty. Always had been, and I had come to the realisation that he always would be. That didn’t mean I couldn’t trust him, it just meant I had to be very clear.
“If you've got something to say, say it,” I told him, giving him the metaphorical mic.
“Maybe we should cut our losses here,” he suggested tightly. “These people can't learn the lesson, no matter how many times we teach it. Alexandria, Hilltop, Kingdom, these garbage rats they're not seeming to understand the situation. Not one little bit. So maybe we learn our lesson. Scrape the plates into the trash. Move further out. Find other communities to… save.”
Again, I clenched my jaw as I watched him carefully. “Oh, I am doing my best to hold it together right now. You wanna cut your losses, take your own advice. Killing everybody to solve the problem that is the easy way, not our way. What we do, saving people, it is hard. But it damn well works.”
“Not lately,” he argued.
“Once I clip Rick,” I grinned, “everything's aces again, Simon.”
I believed in the plan, and I knew most of my people did, too. Rick was leading the war on me and the Saviours. He was the one taking charge, making decisions, calling out orders. Killing him would show the others that there was no hope, no reason, no winning. Killing Rick would show them that we were untouchable.
A knock on the door pulled our attention to it.
“Yeah?” I called.
Gary walked in, carrying a nail gun as he waited for two more men. They were carrying a large box, and by the sounds of it… there was a walker inside.
Simon and I stood as they placed the box on the table and then stepped back.
Eyeing the box, I stepped up to Gary. “What the hell is that?”
“A delivery from the Hilltop,” he explained. “I brought you something to deal with it.” He handed the nail gun over. “It's charged.”
“Out,” I ordered.
Once the door was closed Simon stepped up to the other end, a knife now in hand, before he began to pry the lid off the box.
“Little bit more.”
Doing as I said, he lifted the lid a bit more. The walker reached out and grabbed for me, but I simply pressed the nail gun to its head and pulled the trigger.
Simon got a good look at the walker then, and he was pissed. “That's Dean. That means the other ‘38’ that the Hilltop are holding are from the Satellite Outpost. Those are my people. I'm gonna kill every last one of those farmers!”
I tried to remain calm as I reminded him, “You will do exactly what I asked.”
“We can't let 'em get away with this shit.”
Having had enough of his bullshit, I snapped, “You will do your job!”
With a tight nod, he stormed out of the room. I had no doubt, despite how much he clearly hated the plan, he would do as he was told.
DPOV
We were hiding under a bridge, all of Alexandria hiding in the bushes and long grass. I’d taken the lead, knowing the rest of us who could do the job on a normal day weren’t up for it now.
Saviours were above us, listening to a message being sent on their walkies. They’d been up there for a while, unknowingly keeping us from continuing on our trek to Hilltop.
“Patrols, we got an Orange Situation. Dr. Carson and the priest. Might've split overnight, maybe this morning. Jeremy's green sedan is MIA, so could be in that. Go for standard search and cover in our perimeter around Hilltop. Eyeballs open.”
“Patrol Four copies,” one of the Saviours above responded to the message.
“C'mon, let's hurry it up,” another called to their group before the sound of them pilling into the car was followed by the sound of them driving off.
Once I was sure the coast was clear, I gestured for the others to come out of hiding.
“Best to stay off the roads, head into the woods right there,” I told them. “Come on. Go. Go.”
They all followed my orders, keeping low and sticking to bushes as they did so. The large group slipped into the tree line without a word.
Not even Vic made a sound.
She wasn’t speaking. She wasn’t even looking at anyone, or anything really. I could imagine the pain she was in. I’d lost my brother. I’d lost Merle. But Carl was different.
Carl had been a good man. He had been a good son and brother. He’d been a rock for Vic their whole lives. Those two… there was a bond between them that I hadn’t understood in the beginning, had then grown to envy, and then had become grateful for it. I’d always known that if I couldn’t be there for her, Carl would always be by his sister’s side.
Vic had been through so much already. She’d lost so much. Her home, her friends, her safety, ever herself sometimes. She’d lost her mum, and she’d lost this family she’d built several times over the years. Losing her brother was going to hurt her like nothing else had. It could break her, and that scared me.
“Daddy.” Aly came over to grab my hand, pulling my attention from her mother as we walked at the back of the group, watching everyone as we made our way through the woods. “Are Pop and Michonne going to meet us at Hilltop?”
When things got bad, Aly tended to refer to loved ones as their title rather than their names. Hearing her call Rick Pop made it clear that she was scared and hurting, which broke my heart.
I couldn’t show it, though. I had to be strong for her.
“They’re just gonna be a little behind us.” I nodded at her. “They’re just gonna make sure Carl is-” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. I didn’t know how to tell her what they were going to do without making it sound terrible.
“They’re gonna make sure he’s not hurting anymore,” she finished for me.
Looking back down at her, I met her gaze and had the wind knocked out of my lungs. She looked so mature and grownup. She understood what needed to be done, and she understood that I couldn’t say the words to her.
I nodded. “Yeah. They’re gonna make sure he ain’t hurtin’.”
The sound of a walker had our group scurrying away as it came out from some bushes. The children gathered behind adults, keeping safe. Others lifted the few weapons we had to defend themselves and those who couldn’t fight.
“I got it.” Tara stepped forward, pulling her knife out as she moved to deal with it.
“I'll cover you,” Dwight offered.
Instead of killing the walker, though, Tara threw it at Dwight.
“Tara!” Rosita yelled.
She shrugged. “What? It got away. He can handle it.” She watched as Dwight struggled to throw the walker to the ground before he stomped on its head, killing it. “See?”
“Hey. Just keep 'em moving,” I told all of them, gesturing forward.
Once again, they all listened as they continued walking.
Rosita turned to me once the others- including Aly- were far enough away that they couldn’t hear us. “Did you hear them talking on the walkie about Carson and Gabriel?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Probably heading to Hilltop, same as us.”
“Hopefully better than us,” she sighed.
The two of us started for the others then, making sure to catch up quickly. I couldn’t trust Tara wasn’t going to put her need for revenge before the needs of the others. No one else in the group could protect them, not in the state they were in. Not even Vickie.
Rosita and I needed to stay close if we were all going to make it to Hilltop together and in one piece.
RPOV
Michonne and I had walked through the unmanned doors to the place Jadis and her people call home. Honestly it was a dump, but it was theirs and they had it the way they wanted. There was no point in commenting, not when we had so much at risk, and they could be what helps us win this war.
Unfortunately, that assumption seemed to be wrong.
As we walked into the main, first, open area, junk from above the sea container that served as the entrance collapsed. The way out was blocked.
It was a trap.
The sound attracted dozens of walkers as they appeared to come from every way.
“Dammit.” I moved to get back-to-back with Michonne as we tried to find somewhere safe.
“Come on!” Grabbing my arm, she pulled me over to a mountain of garbage.
We fought our way through the crowd of walkers, pushing and killing anything that got in our way. When we reached the mountain, we started to climb, pulling things out of our way, and towards the walkers, so we could climb further, and they couldn’t follow.
As we made it to the top of the mountain, we looked down at the scrambling walkers. It was then that I realised they were all of the garbage people. There wasn’t a single stray walker down there. This wasn’t an accident. They’d been killed.
“Rick.”
Michonne and I turned and found Jadis sitting on the top of the mountain, stripped of her usual clothes and left in a dirty, flimsy, white night dress. Her feet were bare, her skin was dirty and sweaty. She looked nothing like the usual put together person we’d come to know as the look of her and her people. She looked a mess, frantic, and desperate.
“What happened here?” Michonne asked.
“The Saviours.”
It was pay back. I didn’t need to be told that to know what it was. They’d seen her and her people with me. They’d shot at us. Breaking a deal with the Saviours is a death sentence unless you’re prepared to fight. They were clearly unprepared.
Michonne didn’t make a comment or ask anymore questions about what had happened. There was only one thing that mattered now. “Well, how do we get out?”
The answer was simple. “Get out how you got in.”
We were going to have to fight through the walkers and dig through the junk in order to get out of here.
“These weren't heaps before,” Jadis went on. “It was just trash laid out, as far as the eye could see. I used to come here to find things to paint on. Metal sheets. Fabrics. And then after everything changed, I realised this whole place was a canvas. That we were the paint. We could create something new. We could become something new. We did. This was our world. Apart from everyone else. In every way.”
All her words meant nothing to me. She had double crossed us, caused the death of people, shot me, locked me up, screwed us over, and over, and over. If they had kept their word in the first place, then none of this would have happened. Our people would be safe and alive, and so would hers.
“You did this. This is because of you.” Turning my back on her, I grabbed a broken car door from the pile of crap.
Michonne watched as I bent the exterior detailing, so it stuck out. “What are you doing?”
“We're gonna run for it,” I explained, holding the door in front of me so that the bent handle could be used against the walkers.
Jadis stood, grabbing a broken chair to hold in front of herself. “Let me come with you. Just until they're gone.”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Nah. I'm done with her games. She can't help us, anyway.” Turning my back on Jadis, I looked over at Michonne. “Come on.”
We started our decent then, heading down to the walkers as they continued to try and grab at us, and climb the mountain of trash. Using the door, I pushed back the walkers in front of us, while Michonne had her sword out, killing anything that reached for us from behind.
Getting closer to the exit, I held the door with one hand and pulled out my gun with the other to shoot a few of the walkers getting closer.
Michonne used her sword, covering the back of us as I cleared a path. Once we were close enough to the exit, I dropped the car door and started pulling things out of our way. Michonne was still behind, taking my hand once I offered it to help her into the shipping container that used to be the way into this community.
But the community was gone now. Now it was just a pile or rubbish and rubble, like it was intended to be.
“Wait!”
Just as I was about to leave, Jadis called out. I stopped and turned. She was no longer on the mountain of trash, now. She stood on the dirt, holding the broken chair she’d grabbed.
“Wait! Please!” she begged. “Just- just let me get out!”
I lifted my gun and aimed it at her, before directing it to the sky and taking a shot. The walkers descended on her then.
Whether she survived or not I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.
If she had kept her word in the first place, then none of this would have happened. Our people would be safe and alive. Carl would be safe and alive.
Bamby
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