#the walking dead no zombies AU

[lastclan]

WELCOME TO LASTCLAN

cw: BLOOD, GORE, ZOMBIES, DEAD CATS

MOON 0: Prologue

Next Chapter ->

[yellowsugarwords]

ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

⎆ the walking dead game

[misguidedasgardian]

Wildcats (Part XIX)

XIX. Keep an eye on the horizon

MASTERLIST

Summary: Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis, that’s how it worked. 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, angst, fluff, cuddling, inaccuracy in describing places iI have never been in, MIGHT MISS SOME IMPORTANT WARNINGS, but you know what this is about. 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Alrighttttt I noticed you weren’t thrilled about our decision to go to DC, but it’s gonna be fine… and Daryl won’t be in the dark for long… ANYWAYS I read a nice comment form the early chapters that said “I love reader she is so funny and badass” AND YES WE ARE, WE JUST NEED TO REMEMBER THAT, ALRIGHT? We are badasses, and she needs to “assert dominance”, and we will!. 

You grabbed your bag, with your essentials for a couple of days. 

It had been hectic, a couple of days of planning, a big map of DC, thorough planning of entrances and exits, of a plan A, B, C, you believed you managed to get to a plan M. Rick, Abraham and Rosita had given total control of the mission, letting you choose even which car to take out there, and the provisions, and of course, you consulted in them too, in all of the decisions.

Soon the night before the trip came, and you were nervous, but in a good way, in an excited way, you checked the map one more time while you were in bed, preparing mentally for everything to be disastrous, to be empty, to be destroyed, ravaged and pillaged, to not finding anything but walkers… but at the same time, you were hopeful.

Deanna had told you that she had sent a couple of people into DC, but they never got too close to the city center. 

You got startled when you felt a knock on the door, you hid the map as if you were a little kid with something you shouldn’t be, as you indicated quickly that the person who knocked could come in.

You were surprised to see Daryl there, after a week of stalking him at night time, tonight you decided to let him be, especially since tomorrow you were going to leave, and also, you didn’t want to pressure him.

“Hey”, he greeted

“Hey”, you whispered back, with a soft smile, “you went out there again?”, you asked, honestly since yesterday, when you encountered him outside the pantry, you haven't seen him much.

“Nah, I was fixing my bike”. he said, “Rick told us to stop looking fo people for a while”

“Oh”, that was news to you, ever since the dispute on the morning before his trial you had been distant with the leader of your group. Even though he seemed like his good old self the moment you asked him about going to Washington. You needed to get close with Rick again.

“What were you up to?”, he asked, seeming uncomfortable, you’d ask him to come in, but you didn’t want to scare him

“Readin”, you answered simply.

“Didn’t see you today”, he leaned against the doorframe, looking at you

“Sorry, my head was elsewhere”, you mumbled. “Did you manage to fix your bike?”, it was a  strained conversation, you could feel it. Weird too.

“Yeah”, he whispered. “Is everythin’ alright?”, he asked, and it killed you to see that glint of hope in his eyes

“Yeah”, you assured him, “it is”

“Don’t seem like it”, he mumbled

“Well, my boyfriend, or at least, who I consider my boyfriend won’t sleep with me… so I wanted to give him some space”, you explained calmly. Then you thought better of it, maybe it was too early to call him that, you felt like an idiot doing so… but something got lost in translation. What were you two anyways? is not like you were friends with benefits or crap like that…

“I am your boyfriend now?”, he mocked, lightheartedly 

“Yes you are right, it sounds childish, from now on, I’ll refer to you as my man-friend”, you said with a cheeky smile. He chuckled darkly, scratching his neck. He looked around your room, finally stepping inside. 

“Can I… stay here?”, he asked, you smiled and nodded enthusiastically

“Of course”, you said, opening his bed more for him to join you. You had become excited. He got into the bed, clothes and all. Did he even have pajamas? you had found some in the clothes the Alexandrians had given you, soft cotton, with long sleeves and legs, nothing too fancy. You made a mental note to get him some comfortable ones, he could use when he stayed in your room, or wherever.

A thing you found odd, but quite endearing when you started joining Daryl at nights… was that you seemed to fit well together all the time. Back then you barely knew each other and yet, you seemed to be made to cuddle each other. You felt your cheeks heated at the thought, and your hands a bit sweaty. 

“What were you readin?”, he asked

“Deanna gave some of Reg’s books, I found a book of poems by an artist I loved”, you said with a soft smile. He cuddled into you, and you left the poems of William Morris aside.

“Keep readin”, he begged

“It’s in my mother tongue”, you warned

“Mmmm read woman, so I can learn”, he said simply, “can’t have my girlfriend cussing me out without me knowin”, you chuckled

“You called me your girlfriend”, you giggled. He chuckled, passing an arm over your torso, hugging you, and squeezed at your teasing. You laughed harder.

“Wanna talk about it?”, you asked softly, you didn’t know how to approach him, you wanted him to tell you things, what was on his mind, you found yourself wishing you could go inside his head sometimes.. 

“Read”’, he requested softly, his head on the crook of your neck. 

Now you certainly felt guilty… For not telling him anything about the trip, but now you didn’t want to spoil the mood, so… you always had till the last minute tomorrow…

. . .

You woke up alone, which saddened you, but perhaps it was for the best… So you got up, took a long shower and got dressed. 

So now the day had finally come and you were… extremely excited. more so than being nervous, you took it as a great sign. The plans were laid down, everything was looking good, the sun was shining. You took a deep breath into the day and started walking towards the truck you had picked.  You heard behind you some hurried steps, so you turned around to meet Daryl, who looked absolutely annoyed. 

“Why did ya’ tell me?”, he asked angrily when he saw you, you sighed, “Rick told me, ya’ going to DC, he thought I knew”

“It’s nothing personal”, you said, you resume your walk, as he started walking by your side

“Feel like it is”, he said

“It’s not”, you assured him, he grabbed you by the arm softly

“Why didn’t ya tell me?”, he insisted

“I thought you were busy… with Aaron, you are the new recruiter and all”

“Don't gimme that shit”, he said, you stopped to look at him

“I want to get out there again, I’m growing roots already”, you said, “and DC is right there, we might find something good”, but you weren’t answering his question, “for some reason, every time I want to go out there, you find reasons to keep me here”, you accused, “you are out there with Aaron, he needs you, and I’m… here”, you finished 

“I wanna keep ya safe!”, he said

“Don’t you think I want to keep YOU safe?”, you asked, “but I know… I can’t just chain you to the inside of the walls here, you go out there, every damn day, and I just have to sit and pray…”

“You pray?”, he asked, you shook your head

“Now you will have to do the same, have faith…”, you finished softly. 

“You don’t want me to come”, he said, “that’s what you are saying”, he said childishly. 

“No…”, you said softly. 

“Then I’ll go”

“There is no need”, you insisted

“Aaron can keep ‘mself from goin’ out ‘ere for a couple of days”

You didn’t even know why you were being this childish. You wanted to get out there, and DC was right there, the part that confused you, is why you didn’t want Daryl to come with you, you purposefully didn’t tell him, and now you were keeping him from going

You liked him, you liked having him around, you liked kissing him, but… you felt like you needed to do this, and if he was there… you were going to be nervous, you were going to be more worried about him, -not that he needed to be cared for though-, more than doing what you wanted to do, more than finding what you were looking for

And more than that… you wanted to test it, to spend a few days away, what will happen to him, to you, to what this was between you. You needed a few days to think, to gain perspective

But he was not going to let you go without him, looks like it.

“Why do you want to go?”, you asked, “it's a huge city, we might be going into a huge trap”

“Why do you wanna go?”, he asked then

“I want to make a big supply run, and not only supplies, but… maybe… intel run, maybe we find someone out there”

“Wha’ like the president?”, he mocked

“Or like a fucking army”, you said then, “scientists…”

“I’ll go with you”, you shook your head

“You need to be here, with our people”

“Why?”

“They might need you”, you said, “Rick… I’m taking Abraham and Rosita… a lot of firepower…”

“M’sure Glenn will stay”, he said

“I need you to stay”, you said more firmly, “I think if we both go and don’t make it, the group will fall apart”

“I dun’ want ya’ to get killed out ‘ere!”, he said, exasperated

“I won’t!”, you assured him

“I dun give a damn what happens here if you ain’t here!”, he said, exasperated, he actually surprised you with that, “M’goin”

“Daryl”

“(y/n)”, he called back. You shared looks, “I’m goin”, he said, and you barely nodded

“Fine”, you snapped

“Fine”, he echoed 

“But don’t you ever try to stop me from doing something, alright?”, you warned, “And I’m leading this mission!”,

“Fine”, he repeated

“Fine!”, you said, and you walked away from here. “Get your things!”, you said, you turned to see Rick and Tyresse watching the scene, with smiles on their faces, “traitor!”, you accused Rick, pointing at him with your finger

“If he goes, I’ll be calmer”, he said, his hands on his belt. 

You then met Abraham and Rosita

“Daryl is joining us”, you said with a forced smile. It was supposed to be Glenn, but now you realized they all had been plotting against you.

He joined you soon after, only carrying his crossbow and a crossed bag. 

“I’m the leader of this mission”, you said to the group, but specially to Daryl, “as such you’ll have to do as I say”

“Yes Ma’am”, he drawled, with an amused look on his face. 

“As Rosita and Abraham will know by now, I will hear opinions and ask for advice”, you said, you didn’t want to come out bossy, BUT… you needed to lead, that is what this was all about, sort of. A weak leader was one of the most dangerous things, especially in missions like this.

You stood in front of the truck and you opened the map you had procured.

“We go in one car, hoping to bring in more”, you said, “as we discussed, we take the 95 that will merge into the 1, in the first step in our mission… the pentagon”

“WHAT?”, asked Daryl, you looked at him with a warning in your eyes, and he raised his hands in surrender. It did sounded like a movie, but… that was the center of intelligence, there must be something there. 

“Then we cross the Potomac right to the center, if the war against the dead developed similarly as the other cities we have seen… we will find rest of the military there we can scavenge”, you said, “then into the CDC”, you said drawing into the map, “for the second item of this mission, intel…”, you said, “and for the third and fourth items… supplies and medicine, amongst the ten block radio around the monuments we will find three shopping malls and others, of course, I expect them to be completely scavenged by this point, so for that… in comes the plan B, we cross Anacosita river, into the Joint Base Andrews, see what we can find there, around, are some good neighborhoods we can scavenge in case we don’t have anything by then… ”

“Fine”, mumbled Daryl, seemingly impressed.

“Then from there we take the 495 back home”, you said triumphantly. “Let’s go”, you announced, Rick had sneaked in, hearing the entire conversation.

He hugged you, surprising you

“Come back”, he whispered in your ear, you nodded

“I will”, you assured him.

“You have 96 hours”, said Rick, “if you’re not back by then, we will go looking for you”

“Fine”, you said, smiling softly.

You said your goodbyes, all of your group was there, and even Deanna. Oh you really hoped you were right with this hunch. That you were not leading them into your untimely deaths. 

That’s why it needed to go well.

You checked your gun for the tenth time, and the magazine was full, you sharpened your ax, you had a first aid kit on you, in your backpack, all the things you could need…

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine”, said Rosita, “we trust you”, she said and you smiled nervously at her

You were dying to drive, but you let Abraham do it instead, you were delegating, that’s what leaders do, Rosita rode shotgun, and you and Daryl in the back.

You felt his gaze on you, so you preferred to watch the map obsessively, and then the outside. It was a nice day, sunny, but not hot, comfortable. You took a long breath.

Were you leading your family to their deaths?

“I was actually in Washington in the 90’s”, said Abraham, “I remember it as it was yesterday”

“Did you?”, you asked.

“Yes, I have a good layout of the city right up here in my coconut”, you all laughed 

“Good to know”, you laughed. And you knew he was trying to relax you.

Yes, uncharted territory. Washington was a big city, furthest from the top ten of most populated cities in the US, but still. And it was evacuated… this could be a “gold mine”, as it where….the answer to many of your problems. 

You felt Daryl’s gaze on you, so you returned the stare. You knew you had hurt him, by keeping this from him, you had to make it right.

“I’m sorry for not telling you”, you whispered, he only hummed, “I knew you were going to try and keep me there”

“S’fine”, he mumbled

“No it’s not, I lied to you”, you said, “and I’m sorry”. you meant it, he looked at you right in the eyes and nodded

“S’ok”, he said with a nod, you grabbed his hand, he interlocked his finger with yours and he squeezed gently. 

You were glad you had him with you right now, you didn't know what you were thinking, not telling him about this, not wanting him to come. 

. . .

It was like in the movies.

As you got out of the truck and looked over the government building. The center of intelligence of the US. The pentagon. It was huge, but empty, even though, it looked in perfect condition. not a single window was broken. 

Everything was like they just left the day before, as you entered slowly. It had been evacuated… promptly. A lot of offices… you didn't know what you expected of the building. 

“Its the second largest office building in the world”, said Abraham proudly, as you sneaked inside.

Again, you didn't know what you expected, if moats and secret passages, but it looked like a normal building, an office building, like five buildings one inside of another. this kind of intel, what was the government doing in certain years, was not going to help you know… 

This thing was like a maze, and it was dangerously quiet, not a walker on sight, and -if that made any sense-, made it even scarier. As you went into offices, you noticed all the file cabinets were empty, nor a paper on sight…

You made the call of not splitting, yes you were going to take four times as longer, but that was the call you had made, you weren’t splitting, so you went trough the offices more thoroughly and faster too.

You remembered every action movie you had seen, so, only looking under desks you had gathered a good number of loaded handguns. 

So far, so good. You went into the same side of the building, through six different buildings towards the center, and you managed to gaze upon the main courtyard, you saw it.

“So that’s what they did with all the intel”, muttered Abraham. it was all burnt to the very ground, was used to be a nice yard, you’d imagine, it was all burnt. as were the millions of documents that used to be in the offices.

“I guess even after all that, after the dead rose from their graves, they had priorities”, you mumbled. 

“Let’s find the defense secretary offices”, mumbled Abraham. 

You found a shit ton of handguns, but nothing more of interest, except for a bending machine with pretty much untouched candy, your favorite. You bagged those pretty quickly. 

You felt Daryl’s presence always behind you or on your side, but he didn't question any decision you made and you were grateful, you were becoming more excited as you advanced through the building. 

“So… what's the move, boss?”, asked Abraham, as you started to wander through the huntingly similar hallways.

“We have more handguns than people in Alexandria”, you said with your heavy bag on your back. “Let’s move on to the city center”, you said softly, “before it gets dark, I don’t want to be trapped inside here with no power and no light”. You said quickly. Then you looked at their determined faces, “is that alright?”, you asked then, doubting your own decision. 

“Yes”, said Rosita, and you got into a defensive position, walking back towards the entrance of the building, having scouted two sides of it, although you had come across places you couldn’t access due to lack of power and access cards. 

You couldn’t deny you were excited to be in the capital, you had sneaked into one of the coolest buildings in the US, but you were so on survival mode that you forgot to be hyped about it. 

“Don’t be afraid to boss us around”, said Abraham, placing one of his hands on your shoulder as you were walking out, he was as entertained as you, “we signed up for this”, you nodded, convinced. 

“Than you”

“You are making good calls”, he said with a nod

“Don’t say that yet”, you mumbled. 

You took a couple of walkers that were coming for you from the parking lot, and you got into the truck again.

Abraham tossed you the keys

“Your turn boss”, he said, chuckling, and Rosita got up in the back seats, and you and Daryl on the front. You took a long breath. It's been a while since you hadn't driven. But it was like riding a bike, you never forget it. 

You were invigorated by the success so far, so you started the truck.

“It’s a stick”, mumbled Daryl by your side, doubting your skills

“So it is”, it ran without trouble. as you put the truck in motion in 1st, and then 2nd. Daryl seemed impressed. “What?”, you teased, “I know how to drive stick”, he just smiled at you. “Lead me please”

“Yes Ma’am”, he said, opening the map. 

The roads were mostly intact, so far, as were the big bridges that went over the Potomac river. This city hasn't been bombed like Atlanta had, and it was mostly intact from what you could see, just inhabited.

The Washington monument stood tall, you were embarrassed to admit you got distracted watching it and almost ran over a walker and you got out of the way.

“Ups”, you mumbled. As Daryl chuckled. You had not trouble running over a dead one, BUT, it could jeopardize the truck, it could break it, so you did not intend on doing that if you had the road space to fo around it, “Sorry about that”.

“Can’t believe we’re here after all this time”, said Rosita with a big smile.

“It’s surreal”, you whispered. You felt something strange, in the truck you meant. “Does this thing have 4-wheel drive?”, you asked Abraha,, who just chuckled

“Don’t think so”, it was an old truck. But you felt it heavy… You looked through the rearview mirror to the back of the truck where your bags where, but you knew for a fact, that even with the guns, you didn’t bring anything heavy-er… and when you saw something move back there, you hit the brakes so hard you learned like three new curse words in spanish

“WHAT THE HELL?”, asked Daryl, who might as well have crashed into the console.

“You got ourselves a stowaway”, you grunted. 

You took your gun and your ax and jumped out of the truck after opening the door and that is what got them all in alert, jumping out too. You were still over the bridge. the coast was clear,

You grabbed the thick tarp made of cloth you had to cover your things, and there he was, trembling in fear

“Eugene!?”, asked Rosita.

“Hey”, he muttered

“Damn”, muttered Abraham, then he looked at you, “how did you know?”, he asked, you just smiled

“Eugene why didn’t you tell us?”, asked Daryl, helping him out of the back of the truck

“It was a last minute call and I didn’t want you to change plans, and I thought if I did this… and you wouldn’t notice… it would be safer”

“That makes no sense”, you said, “you should have told us”

“He has a point”, muttered Rosita, and she did, this was planned for four, not five, you should have taken another car.

“I want it to see it”, he said, pointing at the monument, “but I also wanted Daryl to come and protect us”, he said, you frowned, “so he could protect you while Rosita and Abraham protect me”, he said straight to you

“I am really in the “I need protection” team?”, you asked, that insulted you a bit. You thought you were holding your ground, and not in the ”weaker” part of the team.

“No you are not!”, said Rosita, who had been giving you lessons in hand to hand combat.

“Fine, I’m sorry”, as a leader you needed to learn to make decisions when situations like this presented themselves.

“Abraham?”, you called, “Ride in the back, with our biggest gun, that view will alert us if something is strange, watch out for snipers”, you told him, in a very professional manner

“Yes Ma’am”, he said, climbing into the back

“Remember our code in the RV?”, you asked him, “two taps for slowing down, three taps for stopping, one long one to watch out”

“Indeed”, he said. You then turned to Eugene

“Well, like I said, too many times already, you are under my command”, you said Eugene and he nodded quickly, “and under my protection”, he opened his eyes widely, “let’s go, before it gets dark we need to find a safe place to spend the night”, you said surely. 

And, with a slight change of plans, you entered the very center of Washington DC.

With no idea what waited for you there. 

taglist! <3

@crazyunsexycool @capricxnt

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Revenant!Jazz thoughts Pt.2

Continuing from this post

This time, I’m thinking about Vlad and his reaction to all this. In the show he doesn’t particularly seem to care about Jazz in any way, probably because of his hyper focus on Danny and Maddie. I doubt he’s registered Jazz as a threat of any kind, much less to him.

If Danny winds up Bat-dopted, Jason or classic “Bruce stole another one” and the news catches wind of the new Wayne, Vlad would be livid. Danny is supposed to be his son afterall, doesn’t matter that it was Maddie who severely wounded her own son.

In the midst of Rogues dropping like flies, Jazz sets a trap for Vlad by baiting him with Danny. Her brother is never in danger, not with her around and certainly not with the bat family lurking nearby, but Vlad cannot help himself- he tries to kidnap Danny by overshadowing the adoptive parent. Jazz allows it to happen only until Vlad takes Danny out of the public eye, then straight up punches Vlad out of the person he’s overshadowing, sucking him up into a thermos she stole from the GIW and throwing it into an abyss.

Wouldn’t someone recognize Jazz then?

Beyond the walking dead look that came free with reanimating, Jazz walks, talks and looks completely different then she was in life. Memories shape us and without most of hers Jazz wouldn’t be quite the same anymore. Where she once walked with a relaxed gait and a calm demeanor, as a Revenant Jazz masters the murder strut, because that’s pretty much the only thought going through her head on a constant loop….Other than ‘make Danny Safe’ of course.

Who killed Jazz? (Asked by @someonebored0100 )

Originally I was thinking it would be either the Fenton parents in the GAV or the GIW, but then a delicious angst idea popped into my head….

Batman chasing down Joker led to him slamming into Jazz’s car, which resulted in her death and a new son for him to care for….

Batman says nothing when he brings in Danny, marks down Jazz’s death as a murder and does not go out as Batman again for a week.

Was Jazz autopsied?

Thee death rate in Gotham must be higher than any other city in the world, so the coroners embody (pun not intended) the phrase “overworked and underpaid”.

So no, she wasn’t autopsied, but they did make record of the punctured artery and removed the shrapnel by request of Batman for testing.

What happened after Jazz’s body disappeared from the Crematorium?

Bruce Wayne paid for the cremation personally, so it’s understandable the mortician would be Panicking at the very likely notion that someone stole a dead body paid to be cremated and sealed into an urn by Bruce Fucking Wayne.

If the mortician cremates an unclaimed body and slaps the wrong name on it, we’ll, add it to the list of morally questionable things he’s done as a mortician in a Gotham.

Thoughts about Jason’s reaction to a true Revenant?

Her veiny visage, with the broken sclera and eyes that seem to absorb light and give none back, horrifies Jason to the bone. Did he look like that when he dug himself out of his grave? Did the Pits actually do him a favor? It makes him wanna puke just thinking about how accurate his zombie jokes could have been… then makes him swear to stop telling those same jokes because clearly he’s no longer one of the walking dead if he looks better than this dead woman who looks just… horrifying.

Though once Jazz kills the Joker in the same way the clown killed Jason, he seeks out the Revenant and after doing some digging… swears to do whatever he can for her.

If this is Dad!Jason, then he’s very upset for Danny and Jazz’s tragic history.

No hardcover pairing this time?

Maybe? Doubtful, but it could happen. I don’t think it should though.

Does Jazz have a vigilante persona in this one?

Hmm, not exactly. She’s not tying to hide anything, definitely not her less than living appearance. She wears boots, a canvas jacket, jeans and gun holsters with hair that looks like a drunk toddler attacked it with dull scissors.

She doesn’t save anyone, not directly, but ending the rogues that killed so many earns her the name “Reaper” and it sticks.

What’s Danny’s reaction to all this?

We all know about the dark timeline that resulted from The Ultimate Enemy, Dan.

The Fenton parents are still hunting him down, Sam and Tucker are trying to move to Gotham, he’s been adopted by a Kevlar-clad billionaire furry who acts like a himbo with way too much ease for it to be all an act. He’s got a home that’s not an active threat to his afterlife and the food is the farthest thing from radioactive.

(Alfred Pennyworth nearly had a heart attack at the mere thought of a child eating radioactive food and that a piece of toast on his plate was a punishment.)

But… Jazz is dead.

It’s true that they hadn’t had the best relationship for the last few years, especially after his accident, but Jazz had become his rock. Sam and Tucker were his best friends, but they had no real idea what it was like to grow up a Fenton. Sure they had some context clues (was the giant portal entrance with the on-button inside not a giant warning sign?), but Jazz had kept him alive even as a kid herself.

She worked herself to the bone to make sure he had food to eat, some hours to sleep at night, and a shoulder for him to put some of the burden on her as Phantom. In the end, she hurt their parents to get him out of the lab and away from them.

She had died trying to get him to safety.

He’d seen her car, the wreck, the blood, the still radioactive substance he called his blood… he sat in the driver’s seat and cried for his sister- he wanted Jazz to tease him and call him ‘little brother’ again.

Sure, he had Cass now and several brothers, but nothing could ever replace Jazz.

It’s the thought that Jazz would be upset with him that keeps Danny from turning by his grief into a ghostly wail, to wreck everything and everyone.

Then he meets the Reaper. And he knows.

“Little Brother.”

/////////////////////////

What about the ending for Jazz you talked about?

That’s gonna be in another post, this one was getting long enough as is.

[fvckuiloveu]

*patiently waiting for the apocalypse*

[lil-beanz000]

I just wanna draw turtles and zombies so have ma shittttty shitttt, perfect for the holidays I say

TW:Blood an zombies yo~

👁️👄👁️

-Mikey nunchucks would have blades on the chain, for good decapitation 🤌~

-Leo arm would go chop chop due to zombie bite.

-splinter dies the first day of the apocalypse cuz angsttttttt baby(some homeless zombie man fell into the sewer an that's how it started >:3)

Zombieeees I'm so tired omgosh.

Imagine New York in the zombie apocalypse tho 👀 that sounds just terrible. I Love it.

[multishipperbish]

lord of the flies zombie apocalypse au :3 just flat colors for now but i'll redraw the image again one day

basically i finished watching Daybreak last year and thought "huh..." and then sketched them real good. this is a digital redraw of the first few sketches

so the story goes : instead of an island, the kids get trapped in a mall. there's zombies fuckin' all around and ralph decides they need to stay inside. they Cannot fight or they WILL die. jack thinks him cowardly and gathers the choir to kill the zombie that's been taunting them specifically in front of a meat freezer. they hang the head in the middle of the mall as a trophy.

the fire would be a signal for adults to see them from far away. they'd hide it behind big metal sheets so that zombies wouldn't see it and be drawn to it (which is how mulberry kid died, rip king) but the smoke would still rise.

at the end of the story the mall catches on fire lol

the beast is much less physical in their imaginations in this version. there's a huge looming threat that they'll get turned the same way their bus driver did (as opposed to the pilot)

i don't really know how piggy dies in this one or what happens to simon. perhaps his clothes get so dirty and he's so out of breath from running around that they mistake him for a zombie. perhaps they recognise him but believe he's turned. unfortunately the AU is still very much in the works despite being a year old

their weapons don't mean shit i just need to learn to draw different types of weapons

[jinchaeji]

What would happen if one day there was a zombie apocalypse in DBDA universe?

Like, we don't know if Edwin's body is buried somewhere (after all, he did say that his disappearance was 'an act of God', not his death) but Charles' must be, because I don't think it's still in the attic

just imagine, they're on a case and suddenly there's Charles' rotten body walking around town.

Technically speaking, the girls could hide in the agency, while the boys get them everything they need, because they're already dead - can't turn into zombie

And if one of the alive members turned into zombie, I know Edwin and Charles would do anything they can to turn them back

[lampoest]

hannibal but if they were in the walking dead universe

[honeyxmonkey]

“Missing you, love… I hope you’re still missing me. I hope you’re still out there.”

[walkinroadkillz]

did anyone miss me:3c -🦡

Context ⬇️

little au(?) where Philip gets a redemption arc and basically still feels guilty so he tries to repay for everything he has done in any way he can, which is mostly overworking himself so he can be useful to Alexandria

about his eyepatch: I hc he would have a different, more comfortable one, with a leather belt to go around his head or something like that

[princessa-xxx]

my first attempt at a mood/visualization board <3

[quirkle2]

who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)

His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.

The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.

The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.

Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.

Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.

Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.

He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.

Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.

He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”

Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.

He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.

They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.

Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.

Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.

He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.

It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.

He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.

If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.

He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.

Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.

He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.

He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.

The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.

His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.

Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.

Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.

Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.

Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.

His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.

Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.

Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.

Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.

Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.

The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.

[itcanbesour]

Im working on this like zombie au drawing of James, its not anything special rn it’s just mapping out his outfit. Im trying to get out of my comfort zone and do cool poses because it’s become like a the walking dead au almost and I blame my best friend LMFAO im kind of excited to finish it tbh

I just can’t draw shoes ,,, shoes r my enemy ……

May or may not be incorporating my burn scar hc for him ,,, no way ,,,,

[thedramaandthedead]

"I can't keep hiding like this."

Character Design 6/16 - Emma

(*And announcement under cut)

Toxic relationships, YouTube comment sections: Emma had done them all. But will she survive what could be the scariest moment of her life? Find out in The Drama and The Dead, Chapter 2 to release soon.

*Progress for this AU is slowing down as I have many things going on! Will try to keep you posted!

[scarisd3ad]

To the end and back [daryl Dixon x reader]

Chapter two - right where you left me

Masterlist

Taglist

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Warnings - regular twd warnings

Previous >> next

Season 1 ep 3

'Tell it to the frog'

Edited

We all sat around waiting for the others to return from their supply run to Atlanta. Glenn, Merle, Morales, Andrea, Jacqui, and T dog had gone on a supply run while Daryl had gone hunting. I sat talking to Lori and Shane as Lori cut Carl's hair and Shane cleaned his rifle. Carl isn't pleased about his haircut. He fidgets around and has a pout on his face the entire time. "Baby, the more you fidget, the longer it takes, so don't, okay?" Lori says as she combs out her son's hair, snipping little pieces at once. "I'm trying." Carl whines. "Well, try harder." Lori says, trying to focus on Carl's haircut. I laugh. Carl must've not had a haircut since before the outbreak because he was beginning to grow a little mullet. "If you think this is bad, wait till you start shaving. That stings." Shane laughs. "That day comes; you'll be wishing for one of your mama's haircuts." Shane says as he inspects his gun.

"I'll believe that when I see it" Carl says, making Shane and I chuckle. "I'll tell you what... you just get through this with some manly dignity, and tomorrow, I'll teach you something special. I will teach you to catch frogs." Shane says as he's taking apart his rifle. Lori smiles as she continues to cut Carl's hair. "I've caught a frog before," Carl states as he turns a bit, causing Lori to readjust his head. "I said frogs' plural, and it is an art, my friend. It is not to be taken lightly. There are ways and means. Few people know about it." I remember catching frogs on my grandfather's farm as a young kid. I'd take them back to my grandma and grandpa. Grandpa would be proud, but Grandma was always so disgusted by them. She hated that Grandpa would cook them up and eat them. "I'm willing to share my secrets."

Carl looks back at his mom, brows furrowed. "Oh, I'm a girl. You talk to him." Lori says, turning her son's head back towards Shane. "I used to catch frogs," I say. Carl turns his head towards me, brows furrowed again. "You did?" He asks. Lori turns Carls head straight again. "Yep, on my grandpa's farm when I was your age with my brother." Shane raised his eyebrows. "Brother? you have a brother?" Carl asks. I nod. "had a brother," I correct. Matthew, my little brother, was 2 years younger than me; he had dirty blonde hair as he got older and bright blue eyes that will be ingrained in my memories forever. He died 1 day into the outbreak. I miss him every day I go on without him. I wish he'd met these people because he'd love them. "My grandpa used to cook them up on Sunday nights."

"Why'd he cook them?" Carl asks, face contorting in confusion. "You never eat frog legs?" Shane asks. "Eww!" Carl says, his face contorting from confusion into a disgusted look. "No, yum!" Shane corrects as he leans back in his chair a bit. "No, he's right. Eww," Lori contradicts, "they're actually really good, Carl" I say as I fold my arms over my chest. Every day I wake up, I find these people becoming more and more like family than my actual one ever was to me. "You see, she knows what I'm talkin' bout!" Shane says, pointing towards me, which makes me laugh. Lori scrunches up her face in disgust. "When we get down to that last can of beans, you're gonna be loving those frog legs, lady. I can see it now 'Shane, do you think I could have a second helping, please? Ju..just one?'" Shane says, dropping his country accent to imitate Lori. "Yeah, I doubt that." Lori says with an eye roll as both she and Shane laugh.

I turn to see Amy; she's worried about her sister. She should've been back hours ago, but they aren't yet. Dale is standing on top of his RV with a pair of binoculars, just looking out at the road. "I'm..I'm gonna go check in on Amy," I say as I stand up.

Amy is sitting in a chair under the awning of Dale's RV. "You alright, Am's?" I ask she nods slowly. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she mumbles, "They should've been back hours ago." "I'm sure they'r-" I'm cut off by a car alarm blaring. Amy jumps up, and so does Shane. "Talk to me, Dale!" He shouts as he runs towards the RV.

"I can't tell yet," Dale says before looking through his binoculars. "Is it them? Are they back?" Amy asks. "I'll be damned," Dale mutters as we watch a bright red car drive towards our camp. That car is shouting up a storm, probably drawing every Walker in at least a mile's radius towards us. "What is it?" Amy asks.

"A stolen car is my guess."

Lori has her arm wrapped around Carl and one above her eyes, shielding her eyes from the sun. The car pulls in, and we all run towards it. Out comes Glenn. Such a dumbass. I roll my eyes because that boy always seems to do the stupidest goddamn shit. "Holy crap. Turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouts. "I don't know how!" Glenn says with a shrug and the biggest goddamn smile on his face. I run over, pulling him into a hug. I can't lie and say I haven't been a big bag of nerves since he left because I have, but hugging him always makes me feel better.

"Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood, please." Shane says, patting the hood of the car harshly.

I let go of Glenn as Amy runs up. "My sister, Andrea-" she's cut off by Shane shouting, "Pop the damn hood!" and him banging on the hood a bit harder. Shane is very upfront with his role as a leader. He's strong, demanding, and the type of person everyone tends to hate, but I've found it easy to get along with him most of the time. He can be an asshole sometimes, but ever since he promised to keep me safe, I've found it easy to understand why he does what he does.

"What, okay, okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah," Glenn says, retreating back into his car. Amy is still right at Glenn's side, asking about Andrea. Glenn pops the hood, and Shane gets to work on the vehicle. "Is she okay? Is she all right?" Amy asks, demanding an answer from Glenn as he gets out of the car again. "She's okay! She's okay!" Glenn shouts. Amy's brows furrow, but she does let out a tiny sigh of relief as she asks, "Is she coming back?"

"Yes!"

Amy goes right back into panic mode. "Why isn't she with you? Where is she? Is She okay?" Amy continues to interrogate Glenn, "Yes! Fine. Everybody is." Almost everyone lets out a relieved sigh. We had been knotted up in webs of anxiety all day. "Well, Merle, not so much." No one really worried much about Merle. He could be loud, never listened to anyone, and was obnoxious at times, especially when he was mad. It'd be good to get rid of him. "Are you crazy, drivin' this wailin' bastard up here? You tryin' to draw every Walker for miles?" Shane scolds Glenn as he stands with both hands set on the car's hood. The car was a stupid thing to do; it could've drawn every person and Walker to our location. "I think we're okay," Dale says quietly. "You call being stupid, okay?" Shane argues. Glenn finally turns to me, wrapping his arms around me. "M'glad you're alright," I whisper as I wrap my arms around his neck. he sighs as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source," Dale explains. Shane turns around with both hands on his hips, giving Dale a look that tells everyone, 'Don't argue with me.' "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying," Dale says with a shrug. It's almost like Dale can read everyone's expressions because I don't think most people could read Shane like that. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?" Dale says, raising his voice a bit at Glenn. Glenn lets go of me and says, "Sorry. Got a cool car." with a shrug. I roll my eyes. It's weird, we're going through the zombie fucking apocalypse, and Glenn can still be the sweetest, funniest, happiest man I've ever met.

A large moving truck pulls in next, making everyone focus on it instead of Glenn. Morales steps out first and then Andrea from the back. "Amy," Andrea says as she runs towards her sister. "Andrea!" Amy cries out. The sisters embrace tightly.

"You scared the shit out of me." Amy cries with a little laugh. Morales's kids are running towards their father. "Papi! Daddy!" They cry out as they embrace their father. We all watch the lovely moments between family members. It hurts a bit to us members of the group who've lost family members along the way, but it's nice to see how happy they get. The closest person to a family I have in the group is Glenn. I get so excited to see his face after he goes out in the city. We never know if it's the last time we'll see each other; one day, they could go out and never return. Glenn wraps his arm around my shoulder and whispers, "Got you something while we were out; I'll show you later."

"You are a welcome sight. I thought we had lost you folks for sure." Dale says as he embraces Morales. "How'd y'all get out of there anyway?" Shane speaks up. Morales looks back to the moving truck before saying, "New guy...he got us out." I furrow my brows. I was pretty sure we were the last people alive; we hadn't seen other people since the early days of the outbreak. "New guy?" Shane asks with his brows furrowed together.

"Yeah, crazy Vato just got into town." Morales says as he turns to the moving truck and hollers, "Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello!"

Out comes a slim brunette man in a police uniform. He's got both hands on his hips as he walks up a few inches. "The guys a cop like you." Morales tells Shane. The guy looks out of breath as he looks over the group. He points towards Lori and Carl before whispering, "Oh my god." And speed walking towards Carl, who's now running towards him. "Dad! Dad!" Carl cries out. The guy kneels down as Carl runs into his arms. Lori is just behind him. Both boys fall to the ground hugging. I'm just now realizing this is Lori's husband, the dead husband Shane had told me about. Lori wasn't one to talk much about him, but Shane and Carl talked about him a lot, mostly reminiscing. Shane talked about how they worked together in the force, and he died at the beginning of the outbreak, but that man wasn't dead. He picks up his son and walks towards Lori. Lori hugs him. She's in disbelief. Then Lori looked up at Shane with the most betrayed facial expression I'd ever seen. I learned from Lori that her husband got shot and went into a coma. Shane told her he died in the hospital. But obviously, he's not dead. He's right here in front of us. I understand that it could've been an accident; he might've not even heard a heartbeat, but the look on Shane's face tells me otherwise.

-

We're all sat around the fire, listening to who I've learned to be Rick tells us how he miraculously woke up and survived. I've got my head in Glenn's lap, and his left arm wrapped around me. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented." Carl is laying in Rick's lap, and Lori sits beside them. "Fear, confusion..all those things, but..disoriented comes closest." Thunder is coming from a few miles away, which doesn't worry me much; it just frightens me every time it strikes. "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short," Dale says. Glenn gently caresses my arm with his thumb as Rick says, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else." the crickets provide an excellent background for the silence of the night, so it's not just the dark and the loud groans, and growls of walkers in the city. "For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."

"Mom said you died." Carl says quietly. Lori looks at her husband worriedly, like he'd be mad if she told their son that, but he doesn't seem upset. "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." Rick places his hand on his son's cheek, caressing it lightly, while Lori's hand gently pushes her son's hair back. "When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta..." she pauses for a second before continuing, "...and it never happened."

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Lori nods, whispering "yeah"

"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." Rick adds the last time I was in the city, it was absolutely overrun; no one was alive, and the entire place had been taken over by the dead. "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out...you know?" Rick looks at Shane, making direct eye contact. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane...I can't begin to express it." Shane doesn't answer. He stares at Rick, unable to answer; he has a guilty look on his face that says more than words could ever. "There go those words falling short again..paltry things. " Dale says with a chuckle. I look up at Glenn, who's staring ahead at the fire, zoned out, but when he notices I'm looking up at him, he grins.

Before all this, I was 2 years into med school, living in a shitty apartment with 2 shitty roommates. I wanted to be a doctor. That was dream ever since I was little. Little me was wise to choose that because now the 2 years of training I did does work out. After all, now I'm the group's "doctor." my knowledge doesn't help with complex issues because I had only been in med school for 2 years, but I'm a pro with the basics.

Lori is cuddled up in Rick's arms but staring at Shane with a terrified look. Shane looks mad, maybe jealous even. Ed stands up, throwing another log into the fire.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" We all look at Ed like we're in elementary school again, looking at him like, 'Ooo, you're in trouble'. "It's cold, man." Ed says with his head leaned back before it falls forward a bit. "The cold doesn't change the rules, does it?" Shane says, looking over at Ed. "Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane says just to explain to Rick since his eyebrows are furrowed. "I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once." Ed argues. It wasn't a good thing to argue with Shane; he's our leader, he makes the rules, and he tells people what to do. If he says no, it means no, that's it. Shane pushes himself to his feet, walks over, and grabs something. I can't really tell what it is. He walks behind Ed, patting him on the back. "Hey, Ed....are sure you want to have this conversation, man?" He asks softly, "Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!"

Carol Ed's wife sits quietly, almost embarrassed of her husband's actions. Finally, she seems fed up with her husband's childish behavior, so she stands up, grabs the log out of the fire, and throws it on the ground. "Christ," Shane mutters. Carol isn't one to really stand up to her husband; I can tell because the look on Ed's face is terrifying. She then walks back around and sits beside her daughter as Shane stomps on the log until it's no longer on fire. Shane kneels down close to Sophia and Carol. "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?" He asks.

"Fine. We're just fine." Ed is staring daggers over at his wife. "I'm sorry about the fire." Carol says quietly, almost like she doesn't want her husband to hear. "No, no, no. No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?"

"Thank you," Carol whispers. Sophia looks down at her feet the entire time like she's scared of what her father will do later. "I appreciate the cooperation." Shane stands up and walks back over to his spot. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says. Daryl wouldn't be happy; he and his brother were the only family they had left. Even though they didn't get along well, he'd be upset.

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me." T-dog says quietly. "I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick replies. "Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Glenn says, his arm still wrapped around me, drawing small circles on my upper arm. The Dixon brothers...well, at least Merle was very racist, and I wouldn't be surprised if Daryl was, too. "I did what I did. Hell, if I'm gonna hide from him."

"We could lie." Amy says from her spot curled up in her sister's arms. "Or tell the truth," Andrea sighs. She's right. We needed to tell Daryl the truth; if we didn't, and he found out we lied, our consequences would be worse. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he'd have gotten us killed." She was right again; Merle was out of control, and there was never a way to calm him or tell him what to do. Even if Shane tried, he couldn't. Merle was his own boss, and God bless the person who tried to boss him around. "Your husband did what was necessary, and if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's." Andrea says to Lori. "And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asks. I don't think Daryl would just take that as an answer for why we left his brother behind, even if he knew how stubborn his brother was. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" Dale asks, shaking his head. Dale was a wise older man, like our group's grandfather or even father. He was rational and knew how to survive. People like Shane say that this world wasn't made for Dale, but we'd be dead without Dale. "Word to the wise...we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt." We would. Daryl would probably throw a fit and try to hurt someone. He was similar to his brother in expressing his anger through yelling and fists.

"I was scared, and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it," T-dog says with his arms crossed over his chest. "We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asks. "I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that..not that chain, not that padlock. My point...my point is..dixon's alive, and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." T-dog says before getting up and walking away.

"Hey, can I stay in your tent tonight to stay warm?" Glenn whispers just loud enough for me to hear. I nod as I look up at him. I stand up, pushing myself off the ground, and hold my hand out for him to grab. I pull him up, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. "We're gonna head to bed, goodnight," Glenn says.

We walk towards my tent, his arm still wrapped around me.

He unwraps his arm around me so I can unzip my tent. He gets in first and sits crisscrossed on the far-left side. I get in and then zip the tent back up. I lay down, wrapping myself in blankets, trying to avoid freezing to death. "Do you think this will ever like end?" Glenn asks. I shrug. "I hope so," I whisper. He lays down beside me, propping his head up with his arm. "If this does end, we should get an apartment together." He nods in agreement even though we both know it'll probably never happen. It's so weird. I've only known Glenn for about 2 months, but he knows me better than anyone. It could be because we have so much time to talk. "Where were you before you came here?" I ask in a whispered tone. He lets out a small sigh before saying, "Macon...ended up getting stuck in a pharmacy in Macon with a group of people. they went to some motel, but I ended up leaving to go to Atlanta." I nod before he adds, "They ended up giving me a walkie to keep in touch, but it hasn't worked since I left," he whispers as he lets his head fall onto the pillow. "Do you still have it?" I ask. He nods before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small walkie-talkie with stickers on it. I smile as I ask, "Why is it covered in stickers?" with a laugh. "A little girl in the group gave it to me," he says with a small smile. I let out a small sigh as we sat in a comfortable silence together for a few seconds.

"You should go to bed, Glenn," I mumble as I scoot closer to him. "Mhm, I will." I cuddle up next to him, wrapping my arms around his torso. "Don't stay up too late now," I mumble into his chest. "I won't," he says. I can tell he's smiling by the way he says it.

-

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the sunlight peering through the sheer fabric of my tent. Glenn's no longer in the tent. He must've gotten up earlier. I push myself off the ground and crawl over to unzip my tent. I get out, zip it back up, and walk over to where the rest of the group is hanging out.

Carol is leaving some clothes out to dry when I walk up to her. "Morning," I say. She gives me a weak smile but replies, "Morning." She washed Rick's clothes. She's a sweet lady, definitely didn't deserve her asshat of a husband.

Glenn is standing, staring at his red car, arms crossed over his chest. Dale and some other guys are striping it clean of gas and anything they need from the vehicle. Glenn's pissed. I walk over to him. "Look at 'em. Vultures." He grumbles. I give him a weak smile as he says, "Yeah, go on, strip it clean." sarcastically. "Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. I have no power without it. Sorry, Glenn," Dale says, patting Glenn's back as he walks by with a gas can. "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles. He's very obviously upset. I wrap an arm around him. "We'll get you another one like it, Glenn," I say, trying to comfort him. He gives me a weak smile. "yeah, maybe."

Glenn and I walk away from the car "are..are you guys gonna try and rescue Merle?" I ask. Glenn shrugs. "It's up to Shane," Glenn says. I nod. I wanted to go. I hadn't been out into the city since the beginning of the outbreak. I wanted to go on a supply run like Andrea got to, but I was never fucking allowed to! I could handle myself. I survived long enough to get here, but Shane was always against it. He always had some lame ass excuse to not let me go. I understood he just wanted to protect me, but if I didn't get experience fighting walkers, I would die if some came stumbling onto our camp.

Shane drives up in his jeep with water. "Waters here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use," he says as he exits. A couple of us walk over to Shane's car and help him carry the water jugs. I grab one, but Shane immediately takes it from me. I hate how he sees me as a child incapable of doing things alone.

A blood-curdling scream breaks our attention from the water. "MOM!" Carl screams. Rick and Lori immediately start sprinting towards their son's cries. "DAD!" Carl screams again. "Baby!" Lori yells. Shane is now also flying towards the screams of two children with a shotgun. "MAMA! MOMMY!"

"CARL!" Lori cries out as she's trying to find her child. "CARL! Baby!" Both Sophia and Carl come running out of the forest. Lori falls to her knees with Carl in her arms, examining him, ensuring there are no bites or scratches. "Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?" Lori says, hugging at her child.

Most of us are also running that way with guns and weapons. "No, I'm okay," Carl says. Both children seem shaken up by whatever they had seen in the woods.

We finally find the Walker that the kids saw. It's in a small clearing surrounded by trees feasting on a dead deer. I scrunch up my nose in disgust. It smells horrible. Walkers smell awful, like shit, and death. It's just pure death. I stand back as the men go ham on the thing. Beating, stabbing it, you name it, they did it. The sound of leaves crunching makes Shane raise his gun.

Amy and Andrea are standing behind me. We're all preparing for the worst: another walker, maybe a horde of them. But then out pops Daryl with his crossbow and about a dozen dead squirrels. Shane lowers his gun but mutters, "Oh, Jesus." In an almost 'oh god, it's him' tone. "Son of a bitch." Daryl curses as he pushes his way through some branches and over some rocks. "That's MY deer!" As Daryl walks towards it, Rick, Morales, and Glenn step away from the deer. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this..." he then began to kick at the Walker.

"..FILTHY.." kick "..DISEASE-BEARING.." kick "..MOTHERLESS.." kick "..POXY BASTARD!"

"Calm down, son, that's not helping," Dale says, not trying to create conflict but to calm the angered man down. Daryl took it as wanting to cause a conflict, though, so he stomps over to Dale, "What do you know about it, old man?! Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'!" He shouts before turning back around and walking back towards the deer and Walker.

He sighs as he leans over. "I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pulls out about three arrows from the deer. "Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us until some venison." He then pulls out a knife. "What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?" He asks as he leans over the deer and points to the gnawed parts of the deer with his knife. "I would not risk that." Shane replies. The deer looks definitely non-salvageable. Its guts are spilling out and just totally gnawed on. If we tried to eat it, we'd definitely get infected. Daryl sighs. "That's a damn shame." He then turns to the squirrels he has. "I got some squirrels—about a dozen or so. That'll have to do," he sighs.

The Walker's decapitated head then twitches, which is a sight to see. It disgusts Amy, who says, "Oh god." Like she's about to throw up. Andrea then escorts her away from the Walker and probably back to camp. "Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl says as he shoots the Walker straight in the head. He pulls the arrow out of the Walker. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?" He says with an eye roll. He walks past me, giving me a slight smile.

We follow him as he walks back to camp. "Merle!" He shouts. Everyone's giving each other looks like 'who's gonna tell him?' "Merle! Get your ugly ass out here!" He shouts again. "I got us some squirrel! Let's stew'em up." He says, putting his crossbow down.

Shane decides he will tell him; he is the un-proclaimed group leader, after all. "Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane says. Daryl stops and turns around. "bout what?" He asks, brows furrowed. We're all stopped just a few feet away, watching. We're all crossing our fingers, hoping this won't end badly. "Bout Merle." Shane says as he continues walking past Daryl, "There was a—there was a problem in Atlanta." Shane stops and turns around, putting his hands on his hips. Daryl looks around as we're all kind of gathered around watching. "He dead?" Daryl asks. "We're not sure." As Daryl's brows furrow, Shane replies, "he either is or he ain't!" Rick then steps up and walks over to where Shane and Daryl are. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes." Rick replies in his heavy country accent. Someone was going to get hurt; I just knew it. I'm leaning against Shane's jeep, with Glenn standing beside me as we watch. "Rick grimes! you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl shouts angrily. God, I just hope no one gets hurt too bad because I'll have to fix them up.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick explains. I can just see Daryl's blood boiling. If steam could come out of his ears, it would be. Daryl turns around, wiping at his eyes like he was about to cry. "Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?!" He shouts with tears in his eyes. I actually feel bad for Daryl. If someone had chained my brother up on a roof with Walker able to get to him, I'd be just as angry. "yeah." Rick says quietly. Daryl's face is all scrunched up in anger. He turns around just a bit before launching the squirrels at Rick.

Shane immediately gets in between the two, tackling Daryl to the ground. Daryl falls to the ground with a grunt. T-dog drops the logs he was carrying and is just about to jump in when Daryl pulls out his knife and pushes himself off the ground. "watch the knife!" T-dog shouts. Daryl then tries to swing at Rick but misses. Rick grabs one of Daryl's arms, and Shane comes behind him, both men holding him back. Rick takes a step back, letting Shane take over. "Okay, okay," Shane says, trying to stop Daryl from struggling. We all knew this would happen; Daryl was violent. "You'd best let me go!" Daryl shouts.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane's arms are around Daryl's neck in a choke hold, and Daryl grunts and tries to escape Shane's grip. "Choke hold's illegal," Daryl grunts as Shane gets him to the ground. "You can file a complaint," Shane replies sarcastically.

"Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day." Shane warns as Rick kneels down next to Daryl. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick asks Daryl. Daryl doesn't answer. Just continues to wriggle around, trying to get out of their hold. "Do you think we can manage that?" Rick repeats like he's talking to a toddler. Daryl is panting, but let's say, "mhm, yeah." Shane lets him go harshly. "what I did was not on a whim." Rick says, still kneeling down next to Daryl. Daryl's still panting as Rick says, "Your brother does not work and play well with others." Daryl stares at the ground as Rick talks to him. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key." T-dog says. Both men look up at T-dog. "I dropped it." Daryl's brows furrow. "you couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl asks loudly.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

Daryl lets out a loud scoff as he looks down at the ground on his hands and knees. He pushes himself off the ground. "if it's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't." He says harshly as he throws a handful of rocks back onto the ground as walks past t-dog. "Well, maybe this will.." t-dog says. Daryl stops as t-dog continues, "look, I chained the door to the roof—so the geeks couldn't get at him...with a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something," Rick says. Daryl sighs before wiping his eyes again "hell with all y'all!" Daryl shouts as tears begin to form in his eyes once again. "Just tell me where he is," Daryl says desperately, like he's falling apart without his brother. Even though the two fought like cats and dogs, you could tell they loved each other. "so, I can go get him."

"He'll show you, isn't that, right?" Lori says with one hand on the RV door. Rick's breathing heavily as he looks around. "I'm goin' back." Lori lets out a sigh before climbing into the RV angrily. I understand Lori's anger; she doesn't want her husband, whom she hasn't seen in 2 months, to leave again.

"Are you going back?" I ask, turning to Glenn. "If they want me to yeah." Glenn replies with a nod. "I want to go too," I whisper; Glenn's eyes widen. "You can't," he says; I cross my arms over my chest and let out an angry sigh. I don't know why every man I know chooses to treat me like a child. "I can, and I will. I don't give two fucks what you say." Glenn sighs and places a hand on my shoulder. "You. Can't." I scoff and roll my eyes. "I'm goin' anyways. You can't stop me," I say as I push his arm off me and walk over to Shane.

"I'm going with them." Shane laughs but quickly realizes I'm serious, and his smile drops. "no, you're not." I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. I don't know when he will realize I'm a few years older than Glenn. If Glenn can handle himself out there, so can I. "I can handle myself out there. I want to help!" Shane laughs and grabs my upper arm harshly. "I'm sure you can, but I'm protecting you." I hate how he always uses the excuse that he's protecting me: "I'm not a kid. I can help!" I shout; he rolls his eyes and says, "You sure are actin' like one. If you want to help, cook something or wash some clothes." I push him off of me and scoff. "Fuck you."

Rick walks out of his family's tent, dressed in his police uniform. I'll ask him. Maybe he's not like Shane. "Hey, Rick!" I say, running up to him. He stops, brows furrowed together. I realize I haven't really introduced myself, so I say, " I'm y/n, I have a question." he nods in response, so I say, "Can I go with y'all?" He sighs and looks at me like, 'Do you have any experience?' "I was in that city for a week with only a knife. I know my way around the place," he sighs again, asking, "Can you shoot a gun?" I nod. I've been able to shoot a gun since I was 7 years old. That's just the pros of growing up in rural Georgia with a grandpa who loved to hunt. "I don't care as long as you can handle yourself." I smile. I turn towards Shane, who has a scowl on his face. I grin just to piss him off.

I watch as Rick walks over to Shane; they have a hushed conversation. Shane's obviously pissed about something, maybe it's me, perhaps it's Rick leaving again. Rick begins to walk off while Shane follows shortly behind.

I think Glenn's pissed at me too. I understand he cares about me a lot, but I want to prove myself to the group. I want them to know I'm not just some helpless girl that needs protecting. I walk over to him; he's got his arms crossed with a worried look on his face. "You going with them?" He asks. I nod, and he loudly sighs, "What if you get hurt?" I rolled my eyes; I had been out in that city with only a knife as a weapon for a week. I know how to protect myself. "I'm not. I can handle myself. I did it before," I say, trying to comfort him, but it doesn't seem to work. He grabs my hand and whispers, "Why would you risk your life for Merle Dixon?" with his brows furrowed. I shrug, and He sighs as he drops my hand. "You give me so much anxiety, y/n," he says with a laugh; I laugh as well and say, "And you think you don't do the same to me?" He rolls his eyes before He smiles and grabs my hand.

Shane and Rick walk back into the area where everyone else is bickering. "So, you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori asks Rick from her spot sitting by our campfire. Rick turns to both me and Glenn. Glenn lets out a groan. "Oh, come on." I laugh because he should have known he'd have to go, too. After all, he's our designated errand-runner. "You know the way. You've been there before...in and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Glenn takes his hat off and runs his hand through his hair. "It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you alone. I know she would, too." Rick says, turning to his wife. "That's just great. Now you're not only going to risk y/n's life but three of our men, huh?"

"Four," t-dog corrects.

Daryl huffs. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl says as he cleans his arrows. "You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brothers, cracker ass?" T-dog retorts, which makes me laugh because it is quite a coincidence that T-dog is stepping up to help when Merle hates him. "Why you?" Daryl demands. "You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

Dale walks over and says, "That's four."

"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that, Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back; we need every ablebody we've got, " Shane says, getting closer to Rick. "We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect the camp." he's pissed. He doesn't want us out there anymore, especially for Merle. He didn't give a shit about any of us, only himself, so why were we even going. To make ourselves feel better, to not have that guilt on our backs.

"It seems to me what you really need most here...are more guns."

"Right, the guns." Glenn says, slowly walking forward. Everyone, including me, needs clarification about what he's talking about. "Wait, what guns?" Shane asks with his eyebrows furrowed. "Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Rick states. "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped it when I got swarmed in Atlanta. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up." Rick explained. "Ammo?" Shane asks quietly. "700 rounds, assorted." Rick confirms. Shane bows his head, thinking about what we should do. "You went through hell to find us. Yo-you just got here, and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori just couldn't understand why he would risk his life, leaving again. But we needed those guns and ammo. Finding Merle would just be a side quest. "Dad, I-I don't want you to go." Carl stutters out. "To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Shane runs his hands through his hair as Rick walks towards Lori. Lori stands up and says, "Tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." Lori looks down at Carl like, 'We have a kid too?!' Rick grabs Lori's hand. "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died." He says quietly, "It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. they'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him." Lori looks down at her feet before whispering, "What's stoppin' you?" Rick sighs before saying, "the walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped, he's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

Shane's now sat down by his jeep, rubbing at his face, stressed, he's stressed. What are you really supposed to do in this situation? We really need those guns, but we could lose people if we did it. "These are our walkies?" Shane asks. Rick nods and says, "Yeah." with a sigh. "So, use the c.b...what's wrong with that?" Andrea suggests. "The c.b's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap..date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars" Shane explains. Lori avoids Rick's eye contact, looking just behind or at her feet. "I need that bag." Lori doesn't reply. She's just speechless. Rick walks past Lori and to their son. He kneels down in front of Carl. "okay?" Carl just nods. "All right," Rick whispers as he ruffles Carls's hair.

Glenn turns to me. "We're both coming back alive. I swear if you don't, I will literally kill you." I let out a laugh. "Well then, if you don't, I'll do the same," he smiles. "Deal?" "Deal." We both laugh as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

-

I'm sitting in my tent, riffling through my belongings, looking for the handgun my granddad lent me before I headed off to college. I finally found it hidden under a pile of blankets. I stuffed it into my bag and stepped out of my tent. Glenn's already in the large truck Rick and them brought back. Daryl's in the back with t-dog, while Glenn's in the front. I walk over and hop up into the back with Daryl. "You find your gun?" Glenn asks as he turns back towards me. I nod as I take a seat on the metal floor. Rick and Shane walk up to the back of the truck. Shane places down a large black bag. "Hey, Rick, got any rounds in the python?" Shane asks. "No," Rick replies, shaking his head. "Last time we were on the gun range, I'm sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours."

Daryl sits next to me and takes my gun out of my hand. He examines it briefly before asking, "You know how to use this, darlin'?" I scoff and roll my eyes. "Yeah, I do," I say as I grab my gun back from him and tuck it back into my bag. "You know how to use that?" I ask sarcastically as I point to his crossbow. He laughs, "Of course I fuckin' do." Rick and Shane walk away, and Daryl stands up. He walks over and closes the back of the truck. The truck starts up, and we're going.

-

We're driving over some train tracks, which is a bit bumpy but not too bad. "He'd better be okay. It's my only word on the matter." Daryl says to T-dog it's a warning; if Merle isn't alive, he's going to hurt someone, and it'll probably be T-dog. "He will," I whisper. Of course, he will. He's fucking Merle. He'd be able to be hit by a truck, and he'd still be alright. "I told you the geeks can't get to him," T-dog says, leaning his head against the metal wall of the truck. "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." t-dog adds.

We come to a slow stop, and Glenn takes out the keys. he then turns to us, "We walk from here." We all get out of the car. Both T-dog and Daryl hop out first, then me.

-

Glenn pushes a broken part of a wired fence out of the way so we can all get through. "Merle first or guns?" Rick asks as he turns around towards us. "Merle! We ain't even having this conversation!" Daryl shouts. "We are." Rick says and then turns to Glenn, "You know the geography. It's your call." Glenn sighs before saying, "Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." a little out of breath. Daryl's definitely happy about that.

-

We're walking through a department store, and we're all a little on Guard. I've got my gun held out, ready to shoot any moment. We hear a Walker shuffling around, so we all freeze. Rick spots it and points it out to us before we slowly walk around the store, trying to stay as quiet and out of sight as possible. Daryl approaches the rotten, growling thing, and he raises his crossbow "damn, you are one ugly skank." He mutters. It starts to growl at him, getting ready to lunge, but he quickly shoots it straight in the head. It falls to the ground with a thud, and Daryl quickly pulls his arrow out of its head.

We made it to the top with hardly any more walker interference, which I'm grateful for. We all sprint up to the door that leads to the roof, Rick's there first, holding the chain so t-dog can cut it off. He cuts the chain, pulls it off, and Daryl kicks open the door before he runs out. "Merle! Merle!" he shouts as he gets out onto the roof. We follow him as Daryl looks for his brother, but he's not there, just handcuffs cuffed to a pipe, a saw, and a hand.

"No! No!" Daryl cries out over and over again. I feel for Daryl, I really do, but did we all really think Merle was going to stay up there? There was no doubt in my mind that Merle wouldn't find a way to get his ass off this roof, even if that meant sawing off his own hand.

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