#The Walking Dead Angst

[zomb-core]

۫ ꣑ৎ A TRIM || carl grimes x female reader

summary: carl refused to let anyone near his hair after losing his mom, but when he desperately needs a trim he goes to the person he trusts most, you.

(intended lowercase)

warnings: mentions of losing a parent.

pure fluff

“a trim, got it?”

carl twisted around in the chair he was sitting on to face you, you could tell he was nervous and you understood why. he hadn't cut his hair since he was 13, lori used to give him haircuts and he couldn't bring himself to let anyone else do it after she died, until now.

you currently stood behind him, a pair of shears held in your dominant hand while your other held a comb and spray bottle. “yes, a trim, I got it. now, are you gonna sit still and let me start?” you teased, a brief laugh passing your lips.

he nodded, removing the bandage from around his face and setting it on the counter next to his hat. “yeah, just please be careful—”

“carl.” you interrupted, making eye contact with him through the mirror, taking in his worried expression. “I know how important your hair is to you and I will be very careful, I just need you to trust me.”

he caught his lip between his teeth before giving you a curt nod and straightening his posture. “okay.”

you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head before starting. you grabbed a section of his hair, spraying it with the water until it was drenched, repeating this until his hair was thoroughly soaked. you didn't have a lot of experience with cutting hair and you were beyond nervous, but when he came to you and asked you if you would give him a trim you didn't have the heart to tell him no.

you took a deep breath before grabbing a decent portion of hair, bringing the comb to it and running it through it, stopping about an inch from the bottom, holding it up so carl could see it, “how's that?”

“that's fine.” he concluded after a few moments of staring at it, closing his eyes tightly when you brought the scissors up to his hair.

you hesitated. you knew how important this was to him, when he told you stories about his mom your heart would ache for him, and his hair was one of the only things left he could relate to her besides judith and messing this up would break his heart.

the sound of the scissors snipping the hair caused you both to flinch, you watching the hair fall to the tiled floor.

you exchanged a glance with him to make sure he was still comfortable, and you continued, copying your previous cut over and over again until you had chopped roughly the same length of hair off of every section.

the bathroom was completely silent minus the sound of the scissors and you shuffling around, neither of you could bring yourselves to speak, both too focused on your movements to say anything.

eventually, you finished the larger part of his hair and all that was left was his bangs. you walked around so you could be face to face with him, examining the way his bangs framed his face. “okay..” you mumbled, grabbing the larger portion of his bangs between your index and middle finger using them as a guide and you worked on his fringe while trying to avoid getting any hair in the open wound on his face. once you were satisfied with how that side looked, you moved onto the other side, making a few quick snips before setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire your work.

“what do you think? did I do okay?”

he stood up, leaning closer to the mirror to examine his hair as you watched him anxiously, awaiting his reaction. you rocked back and forth on your heel, your hands interlaced behind your back, “carl?” you tried, becoming extremely paranoid that you had messed up, but your worry was quickly brought to an end when he wrapped his arms around you.

“it looks great, thank you.”

your worried expression was replaced by a geeky smile, and you returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze. “oh thank god, I was so worried.” you laughed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose,

“thank you, by the way.” he looked confused at your statement, tilting his head to the side slightly, “for what?”

“for trusting me, I know that this was hard for you and i’m glad you trusted me of all people.”

he ducked his head down and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, smiling against the exposed skin, “i’m glad I did, too.”

masterlist

[bloodlinesgirly]

Fearing the fall~ Daryl Dixon

warning: angst(first time writing it) blood, violence

word count: 1452

set in alexandria(no mention of when)

x reader (long hair mentioned but that’s it)

requested (i hope this is what you were imagining!)

not proofread

There are very few people who can ever say they had a connection with daryl dixon. He’d be the last to admit it but you were one of them. But with you it’s different, it’s not like it is with rick or maggie, or even carol. it’s different. you're different.

The first time he felt it was when you sat in his lap, bandaging the wounds on his face.

“i already told ya m’fine” he growled, trying to slap your hands away from his face but you persisted. dipping a washcloth in warm water, dabbing the blood away from his cuts.

“you’re not fine, Daryl, you’re bleeding.” you apply the last bandage, giving him a pat on the back, a signal telling him you were finished. he huffed at you like usual.

the second time he felt it was scavenging through a grocery store on a run, he knew you were strong, you could do it alone, but he couldn’t let you. he needed the peace of mind knowing he was there in case you couldn’t handle things. you’ve always handled things. you’ve been through 10x more than any human ever should. you weren’t weak and you definitely didn’t need him glued to your side in an already cleared grocery store. he knew that. so why did he feel otherwise?

the third time he felt it was the strongest. blood gushed from your thigh, impaled with the knife of a man you were trying to help. you sobbed and screamed for help. but you kept fighting. you were losing blood, you could feel yourself going in and out of consciousness. but you kept moving, taking down the man who managed to deceive you. daryl was a few feet into the woods pulling arrows out of some animal when he heard you scream. his heart raced as he dropped everything and ran, screaming your name trying to find you. he was being reckless, what if there were walkers nearby? what if he tripped and hurt himself? but he didn’t care. the only thought in his mind was getting to you. he saw red when he finally found you, sat against a tree unconscious, the man dead at your side. he laid you down, putting your head in his lap, doing everything in his power to wake you up.

“cmon’ please…you’re okay…you have to be okay” tears fell down his cheeks and dripped onto your forehead. He felt you stir, coming back to consciousness once again. daryl had never felt more relief than he did in that moment. he got you home, the doctors in alexandria were able to stitch up your leg. you were okay. why wasn’t he there to protect you? why didn’t he work faster, pay more attention? He blamed himself for everything that happened that day. he was cursed. everyone hes ever cared about has gotten hurt or worse.

So he stopped letting you in. no longer was daryl dixon the man you laughed with, cried to, or went to for help. he promised himself he’d always do anything to protect you but he will never let you in, infect you the way he has so many others.

The day was warm, sweat dripped down your neck as you pulled your hair up tight in a ponytail. you saw daryl perched on the porch of carols home. His biceps speckled with dirt and maybe some freckles from the sun. he shook the hair from his face before lighting his cigarette and taking a drag from it. you bounced your way over to him, shooting him a smile like you always did. he didn’t smile back, he didn’t even look your way. maybe he didn’t notice you, you thought. “hey! daryl, do you mind helping me with some of this gardening stuff? it’s hot and a lot of this stuff needs out of the ground and-“ you started to ramble on like normal. the way you always were able to when it came to him.

“nah” he grumbled

“i was thinking maybe you could-huh” your voice dropped, he’d never flat out denied you like that before.

“busy.” he spoke flatly.

“oh…okay” you frowned, confused and almost hurt. you returned back to your work anyways.

a week later.

It was killing him and he didn’t know why. you’d come up to him trying to speak to him like usual and every time, you were met with a dry response or nothing at all. everytime he watched your excited expression drop, everytime he watched you hold back tears, it broke him. it had never been hard for him to take a step back before, ignoring people and staying to himself has always been his thing. until you. he craved your presence like no other. he wanted to hear your laugh, see your face focus as you patched him up, the way your eyebrows crinkle when he annoyed you, your animated expressions as you retell your day, but most importantly he missed the way you’d hug him after every conversation, no matter how much he complained. he was hurting himself so he wouldn’t hurt you.

but he was hurting you, he was making you question where you went wrong constantly. and what hurt more was that you could never think of an answer. so you found yourself in bed with tear stained cheeks yet again. you loved him more than anyone, even if he would never be ready to love you back.

Over the next week and a half you’d gotten maybe 4 words out of daryl. you kept pushing, working conversation after conversation out of him until eventually it was just too much.

“daryl please can you just talk to me…that’s all i’m asking.” it was dark and the sounds of raindrops hitting heavy on porch roof was almost enough to drown out your voice. you were begging him to speak and he couldn’t, no matter how bad he wanted to give in he couldn’t let himself. the second he lets you back in he’s trapped you, you’ll get hurt and it’ll all be his fault. he couldn’t deal with the pain of losing you, having you from a distance was enough if it meant having you at all.

“please..” your voice cuts through his thoughts, he looks at your face finally. you’re crying, his heart sank, he didn’t want to make you cry, he was supposed to protect you.

“no…no please don’t cry..” he whispers just loud enough to be heard.

“what did i do wrong daryl…please…please just tell me and i’ll fix it. i’ll fix everything i promise” your cries get louder, your sobs break up your sentences. he jumps up to wrap his arms around you.

“you didn’t do anythin’…i thought i was protecting you.” he spoke into your hair, every sob pulled from your throat tore him apart a little more.

“what? protect me? you’re not protecting me daryl. you’re hurting me.” hearing those words come from your mouth is what he needed. it’s what he needed to realize exactly why he felt the way he felt. he promised he’d never hurt you and now look what’s happened. he’s done exactly that. why did he do all this? because he loved you. you’re the only person who’s ever shown him what love is, and how good it can be.

“i was scared…m’sorry…m’ sorry” he repeated softly.

“scared of what daryl?….me? i don’t get it.” you question, your voice is shaking as you look up at him. his expression is soft and almost sad looking.

“i…i feel for you…in ways i’ve never felt f’anyone” he responds, his voice is strained and gruff as he speaks.

you can hear your heart beating in your ears

“…what do you mean?”

daryl clears his throat before pulling you back to his chest, he hesitates before speaking into your hair.

“…i love you..”

he hears you sob again, picking your head up you wipe tears from your eyes.

“i love you too daryl, more than you realize. i always have and i always will, no matter what.” you hug him tightly and finally he hugs you back, his arms tight around your waist. you look up at him, smiling softly before reaching up to cup his face and pull him into a kiss. it’s sweet, exactly what you had imagined.

he’s always known you were different, it took him longer than most people would to accept it. he loved you and there was nothing he could do about it. he is yours just as you are his. his promise to protect you stays the same. the only difference is he’s no longer protecting you from himself.

i’d love to make a second part to this if interested!

[xoxo-sarah]

Reckless

↝a/n: reader is indeed a badass in this. A dumb one- but a badass nonetheless.

↝pairing:Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, murder, weird guys, set after Negan shows up, Alexandria, fear of losing a loved one (Daryl and reader, separately),, reader endangers herself, pigs (men),cursing, slightly proofread, idk it's kinda graphic ngl, reader is kinda crazy but who isn't in twd universe?

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 8.16.24

Note: Kate is reader's friend

“You ain't goin' out there.” Daryl said nonchalantly, bringing the lighter up to light the cigarette hanging between his cracked lips.

Taken aback, you could only stare at him. Watching as he leaned against the porch railing, looking at you with a calm look in his eye.

It's almost like he believed you wouldn't walk outside the gate of Alexandria. Like you would listen to him. You weren't about to argue about what you can and can't do, especially when a man is on the other side.

Huffing, you stomped past him, back into the house.

After Daryl finished the cigarette, he stood to his full height, turning to open the door. He grunted when the door wouldn't open.

“Seriously?”

You heard him on the other side, but didn't care. Kate was out there. Who was Daryl to tell you to stay in the safe zone, to not look for someone who would be out in the woods looking for you the second they heard you were missing? You knew it was dangerous, but that was the chance you were willing to take for a friend.

“Open the door.” Hiding the last bit of supplies, you twisted the lock, letting him open the door. Ignoring the glare he was sending you, you made your way to the bedroom, exiting with a blanket and pillow. “Are ya kiddin'? What, 'm I in the doghouse?”

“No,” you scoffed, throwing the blanket on the couch, and began to make it comfortable. “I'm not sleeping in the same bed as someone who thinks I can't take care of myself.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You implied it.” With that, you finally looked him in the eye, daring him to say another word.

Huffing, he made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door.

You stood in the darkness for a moment, thinking everything through, whilst also listening as he walked around the room, before the mattress springs creaked, letting you know he flopped on the bed. You give it 20-30 minutes before he gets up and tries to apologize, like he always did. You'd turn him down, of course, and he'd finally leave you alone for the night. Then you'd make your run for it.

Sticks and leaves crunched under your feet, the quiet of the night having the hair on your arms stand straight up. Light illuminated ahead of you, the flashlight held tightly in your grip, knife in the other hand. The backpack you were quick to pack only had a few things, but they were important. A pistol you stored with you at all times sat on your belt (only for emergencies), small first aid kit–in the hindsight you do find Kate– but she's hurt, a can of whatever was out on the kitchen counter that you didn't get the time to actually look at-it was probably a can of peaches or something-, water, and the thin blanket you kept sprawled across the back of the couch.

Hearing voices from the distance, you quickly cut your light, catching the smell of a fire, along with the sound of the crackle of wood and drunken laughter. You took your chance with your surroundings, putting your trust in what was blindly in front of you.

You managed to sneak closer, now being able to see the group from between the trees. They sat around the fire, cackling about God knows what, blood and grime coating their skin in a thick layer. They passed a bottle around the circle, taking a big swig to numb their reality. Looking around them, they set up an alarm type thing with empty cans connected to wire and string, something your group has done many times, especially when you were without a stable housing system.

Stained tents were close together, nearly side by side with how small the alarm system was. “She's a beauty.” One man snarled, standing to wobble toward one tent, unzipping it, bending over, and reaching into it.

He struggled for a minute, nearly losing his footing, before he straightened up, dragging the body over to the other guys. They whooped and hollered, passing the bottle around again.

The guy who pulled Kate out of the tent started playing with her matted hair, a nasty grin on his face. Your nails dug into your hand. There were 4 of them, all of which had an advantage for having Kate. Even if you were to attack them, they would probably kill her without a second thought.

She snarled, pulling at the rope that bound her hands behind her back. “Ain't she?” He bent down, closer to her ear. She pulled a disgusted face.

One guy cackled, loving her reactions for a sickly reason.

The handle of the knife nearly left a permanent indention on your palm, the skin beginning to sting.

Maybe if you brought something like a bow you could catch them off guard. But you didn't, alright?

You have a knife and a pistol.

“I think it's time to turn in, fellas.” Another guy stood, stretching his long, skinny limbs. The other guys mumbled an agreement, beginning to retreat.

Kate was dragged toward the fire by the original guy, “can't let you out of my sight, can I, pretty girl?”

Kate uttered a 'fuck you'.

The guy stood back from snuffing the fire pit with dirt, moving to lean over her. His hand caressed her cheek, dirt smearing. “ You have a mouth on ya, doncha?"

The knife slid across his throat in one quick motion, a garbled sound was put to an end as the knife punctured his skull quickly after. You laid his body down gently, glancing at the tents as you moved to Kate.

She silently watched you with wide eyes. To her, you just appeared out of the darkness, leaping over the wire and taking her and the guy by surprise. If anything, she didn't recognize you at first. You looked scary, crazed, even. Your eyes held a fiery she'd only seen a handful of times since the apocalypse started.

Finally untying her hands, where rope was tied in a tight knot, leaving her wrist red and raw, you heard rustling came from one of the tents, followed by, “I gotta take a leak.” Kate quickly scanned the dead body, taking the knife off his person.

You quietly blended in to the woods, running as fast as your limbs would let you. You could hear cursing from the tents. Far enough away, you slowed down, coming out of the woods. Kate heaved, rubbing at her wrist.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Rosita came back from the supply run, and she said you were taken.” The two of them had gone out early that morning, in search of something-anything to satisfy Negan.

“That was dangerous. Those were Negan's men.”

“They're disgusting.”

She couldn't disagree. You didn't see what they did before, or hear what they said. She was thankful for that. If she were to tell you, you'd turn around and go slaughter every one of them.

Coming to an abandoned, dead car, you settled in the driver's seat, helping her wrap her wrist and any small cuts she had on her body.

You offered her the can of peaches, opening it up with your knife for her. She took it, her stomach growling as soon as you uttered the word 'food'. She chugged the water. You watched.

You had known her before the apocalypse. She had it made, never having to starve or wait all day to eat, always having the comfortable bank account to just be able to buy whatever she was feeling at the moment. You had watched first hand as her life flipped upside down. Reckon she thought the same about you. Deep down, you knew she would've gone looking for you if the roles were reversed.

“They took everything we found, which wasn't much but still. I was going to drink that alcohol.” She broke the silence, slightly pouting her busted lip out. Your lip twitched, not quite finding the amusement in your body. “Surprised Daryl didn't come with you.”

“He didn't want me coming.” She nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “They were going to look for you in the morning, but a lot could happen between now and then. I couldn't risk it.”

“You're reckless.”

“You could've died,” you countered. Maybe you were reckless and stubborn, you didn't care at that moment.

The door suddenly swung open, a gun cocking as soon as the cold metal touched your temple. Kate yelped as she got dragged out, falling out on the broken asphalt. “You think you could do that shit and get away with it?” Alcohol wafted in your nostrils, hot breath fanning across your ear and neck. “Get out.” A harsh hand gripped your arm, pulling you out. He grabbed your knife, pocketing it before you had the time to use it. You could only see two out of the three surviving men from before. The other one was probably still at their camp, keeping an eye out.

The grip on your arm tightened.

Daryl stumbled out of the woods, hearing commotion on the old, worn down road. He saw the car, the men, your silhouette.

He saw the man in front of you, getting in your face. The darkness of the night didn't do anything to show your facial expression. But Daryl knew you, knew how you were holding your ground.

He loaded his bow, watching as a punch landed to your left cheek.

You fell to the floor, quickly shuffling closer to the car. You grabbed the jagged metal of the old can of peaches you had mindlessly discarded, swinging around and dragging it across his face, nicking your palm in the process, but you didn't care.

Daryl jogged closer, arrow ready to shoot, now aimed at the man holding Kate.

Before he could release the arrow, you grabbed the gun that was recently pointed at your head, swirling around to shoot the other guy right in the face, despite his scared protest, before aiming it at the man holding his face at your feet, cursing you, belittling you.

Daryl stood, stunned.

In the span of a minute and a half, you had killed two men without flinching.

—

The door to your bedroom creaked, Daryl stumbled out of it. He stood behind the couch, shirtless, his pants hanging low on his hips. His face was set in a scowl, his distaste about having to apologize evident on his face. “Ya know you're a badass. Ain't no secret. Didn't mean it like that, ya know that.” You grunted, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You were turned away from him, laid out across the couch as you glared at the wall through the darkness. The backpack laid under the couch, everything ready.

“Say somethin'.”

You turned on your back, looking up at him. You knew he was leaned across the back of the furniture, searching for your face in the darkness, you did the same. “Fine.” Your words held no truth to them, only evident annoyance.

He sighed, straightening his back. “It's dang-”

“It's dangerous, yeah, I know. Which is exactly why we need to look for her. There's no telling what has already happened to her, especially with Negan's men out there.”

“A group is goin' in the mornin'. First thing.”

You stayed silent. At least they were trying, and being smart about it. But you weren't using your brain, only your heart. She means too much to you to lose her. She's all you have left of the normal life, before all this.

“You gonna come to bed?”

Maybe you were being unreasonable.

“No.”

Daryl shuffled back to the bedroom, letting the door shut harshly behind him.

Three minutes later, you were quietly opening the back door and wiggling out. You blended into the night, walking around Alexandria without anyone noticing. You ran by the people on watch, making your escape. You ventured into the woods, Daryl's words in your head. You were a badass. Maybe not a smart one when it comes down to being rational, but a badass nonetheless.

Daryl shuffled out of bed, his throat feeling dry. His feet patted against the cold floor, hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

He stopped when he caught sight of the couch. You were probably asleep. Anger wore you out easily, he had noted very early on.

“Look, I know you're pissed at me, but I'm just tryin' to keep ya safe. I can't lose ya.”

The vulnerability was evident in his voice. Usually, you would comfort him, knowing he doesn't show his emotional state to just anyone.

It was true, he couldn't lose you. He fears he might actually go insane without you.

Ever since you two moved into the house of Alexandria, a fire burned in Daryl.

A fire that told him he could lose you at any moment, but also told him that he had to make it where he couldn't lose you. To try everything to keep you safe.

Negan was out there, in the shadows, waiting. He was waiting for one little slip up. He wasn't one to be merciful. Yet another threat on your head.

Daryl leaned forward, bringing his hand to find your body warmth, something to soothe him before he spirals. “Honey?”

He was met with cold silence.

—

“Well shit.”

You swirled around, gun aimed to kill. Daryl dropped his arm that held the bow, raising his other in surrender. A grin tugged at his lips, pure pride at seeing you take care of yourself like that.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[bloatedandalone04]

The Lucky Ones - Part 2

➪the one where you and rick reunite after the events at the prison.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of digging around in the undead, guns, takes place in season 5

Word Count: 3k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Judith was crying again, and no matter what Tyreese did, she didn’t seem to want to stop. “C’mon, baby girl,” he huffed, bouncing her in his arms. 

You look over from your spot on a fallen tree, your fingers tangled in Lizzie’s messy hair. It was clear that Tyreese was having a hard time calming the baby down, and while it was a bit amusing, being quiet right now was a priority. “Hey,” you call out to him. “Want me to take her?” 

“Please,”

You laugh quietly and get up, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder before making your way over to Tyreese. “Come here, sweet girl,” you coo when you take Judith from him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re alright.”

Tyreese huffed again as he moved to sit next to the small fire you had started, confused at how you managed to get Judith to stop crying within just a few seconds. “I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, poking the fire with a stick. “You had kids before all this?” 

“No,” you answer, brushing Judith’s hair away from her forehead before taking the bottle from Mika. “I was a nurse. Spent a year looking after my mom before everything went to hell. She was like a kid in a way. I used to rely on her, then suddenly she relied on me. I had to feed her, bathe her, and dress her. Never thought that would’ve prepared me for something like this.”

Tyreese grunted, setting the stick aside and looking over at you. “You’re a natural,”

You smile at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You’d been one of the many people that have been taking care of Judith since she was born, but being one of the three to do it now was something else entirely. 

When the Governor tried taking control of the prison and caused what could only be described as a riot, you were left behind with Tyreese, Mika and Lizzie. The older sister actually ended up saving both you and Tyreese when you were backed into a corner, and when you tried to convince them to go find Rick, you were outvoted. You were outvoted by a couple of fucking kids. 

So you fled with them into the trees and had been walking through the forests ever since. You would give anything to be able to be with him right now, but instead you were left looking after his kid. You didn’t mind, but you just wished you knew whether he was okay and alive or not. 

Carol took your spot on the tree and began braiding Lizzie’s hair as you hummed softly to Judith. She was beginning to fall asleep in your arms, and soon enough, Carol, Lizzie and Mika were all sleeping while Tyreese took the first watch. “You want me to take her? So you can get some sleep?” 

“No, I got her,” you mumble and move to sit next to him. 

You sit in silence for a while, with Tyreese adding sticks to the fire every so often and you gently rocking Judith. Your mind drifted back to Rick and Carl and Maggie and Glenn. Were they okay? Were they alive?

The last thing you saw was Rick getting shot in the leg then everything went to shit. Guns went off and fires were started, and you lost sight of pretty much everyone besides Tyreese. You wanted to run out to Rick, to help him, but there were just too many people and too many walkers. You didn’t stand a chance. With everything in you, you were praying to anyone who might be listening that he is still alive, and that he’s looking for you.

Like how you’re looking for him. 

You stare at the fire as you trace random shapes onto Judith’s arm with your thumb, lost in your own head. “Everything happened so fast,” you murmur, catching Tyreese’s attention. “Just a few days ago we were all safe and together. Now we don’t even know if everyone’s still alive.”

“We just have to keep looking,” he said, and you knew he was trying to comfort you, but you felt hopeless right now. 

“I wanted to go back for him,” you confess. “When we were leaving. I was going to go back, but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t find him.”

Tyreese looked over at you in surprise. “None of us could get to him,” he assured you. “Rick is strong. He’s stronger than any of us. I know he made it out, him and Carl both.”

There was no way to be sure of that, but you appreciated his words nonetheless. “I remember when I first saw him at that store back in Atlanta. Glenn can tell you that I was in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. It felt like nothing else mattered, then he found his wife and son and I was sure nothing would happen between us.”

Tyreese let out a quiet laugh, leaning back on the log and taking off his hat. “Look at you now,” he teased. “That man is head over heels for you.”

That was true. 

Not long after you broke things off with Shane, Rick and Lori began having some issues. They split up long before she found out she was pregnant with Judith, and around her three month mark was when Rick finally allowed himself to begin something with you.

That something turned into an official relationship, and you’d been almost inseparable ever since. 

He told you to stay with Daryl and Carl when the Governor and his posse showed up, but then you got separated from both of them and wound up defending Tyreese in a different part of the prison yard. 

You smile at the memory of the first kiss you shared with Rick. Then your heart twisted a bit. You missed him so much. You missed everyone. 

“Feels like forever ago,” you whisper. “I hope they’re okay. I hope he’s okay.”

Tyreese gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’ll find each other. Right now you just need to focus on looking after his little girl and worry about the rest later,”

You knew he was right, so you gave him a tight smile and nod. 

-

“What do you think Y/n is doing right now?” Carl asked as he sat on the couch next to Rick. He dug through the stale cereal bag and gathered some in his palm, tossing them into his mouth afterwards. 

“I don’t know,” Rick answered, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to think of where to go from here. The couch was pressed against the door, a safety measure he deemed necessary since the lock had been broken off it. 

His face was sore and still a bit bruised, and the days he’s spent on this couch felt like a bit of a waste when he could be out there looking for his group. Looking for you. 

“Do you think she’s by herself?” Carl continued to ask him questions about you that Rick had no idea the answers to. He was losing hope as the days went on, though a very small part of him believed that you were out there somewhere, and that maybe you or someone else had managed to grab Judith on the way out of the prison yard. 

“I don’t know,” he answered his son’s question with a stern voice, trying to tell him to be quiet without actually saying the words. 

“Do you think she made it out?”

“I don’t know, Carl,” Rick nearly yelled, causing Carl to jump slightly. Rick lowered his voice and looked back at the floor once he saw the way Carl reacted to his outburst. “I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know who she’s with and I don’t know if she made it out. Just stop asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to, please.” 

Honestly, Rick couldn’t stand the thought of you not having made it out of the prison. He left you with Daryl and Carl, and now he was with Carl with no sign of you or Daryl, and he felt lost. 

Carl had told him that he and Daryl got separated, and how he saw you with Tyreese last, but that was all the information he had. He didn’t know where you went after that, and he didn’t know if you had managed to get out of the area you had been backed into. 

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Carl mumbled, setting the bag aside and leaning back against the couch. “I’m sure we’ll see her again, we just need to start looking.” 

“Yeah,” Rick agreed, spinning his wedding band around on his finger. He had no idea why he is still wearing it, him and Lori are very much done and over with and had been for a long time now, so why was he still wearing his ring? 

He looked down at the gold band, then without a second thought, he slid it off his finger and put it in his pocket, and thankfully Carl didn’t notice him doing that. He was still mourning his mom, and still getting used to you and Rick, the last thing needed was to see his dad move on completely from her. 

“Yeah,” Rick said again. “We’ll start looking for her. We’ll start looking for all of them.” 

He couldn’t lose you. He already lost so many people, and he was still recovering from watching the nicest man he had ever met get almost decapitated. He couldn’t lose you too. 

-

When Carol gestured for you to dig around inside the walker she just put down, you didn’t hesitate like you normally would. You didn’t get grossed out or feel nauseous. How could you?

Rick might be alive. 

Michonne and Carl were definitely alive, since you heard the piece of shit Terminus guy say he was going to kill them.

They’re alive. 

You blended right in, and when Carol blew up one of the tanks littered around Terminus, you and her were able to slip in amongst the walkers. Gunfire was heard all around as the large number of walkers made their way through the poorly protected walls of Terminus, and when you found yourself in a storage room, a feeling of rage took over you. 

There were countless things in there; teddy bears, weapons, jewelry, clothes, blankets, and anything else you could imagine a defenseless person would have. Carol found Daryl’s crossbow among the weapons, and you found Rick’s watch among the jewelry. These people were sick, taking things from people who were just trying to survive with what they have. 

You were livid as you and Carol slashed and shot your way through the crowds of walkers and Terminus people, and before long you were granted the one thing you’d be wishing for ever since you and Tyreese made it out of the prison. 

Rick, Daryl, Bob and Glenn let Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Sasha and three other people you had never seen before out of a train cart, then they were fleeing to the forest. 

You were frozen in shock, tears gathered along your water lines before Carol was pulling you with her as she took off after them. You were so relieved to see that mostly everyone had made it out, and that Rick, though he was a bit bloody, is okay. 

You stumbled alongside Carol as she followed the group, and when they stopped a good distance away, you could hear Rick’s deep voice as he declared that they were going back to finish the job. 

Stopping behind some bushes, you watched the group argue for a bit before Carol stepped away from the greenery and revealed herself. Almost instantly she was wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, and you watched the reunion with burning eyes as you revealed yourself as well.

Rick opened his mouth to say something to Carol, then his gaze flickered over to you and any words he was going to say died on his tongue. Your eyes glazed over again and you froze in your spot, and the last thing you heard was the relieved sigh Daryl let out as he took both you and Carol in, then you were wrapped up in Rick’s arms. 

His grip on you was the tightest it’s ever been, and you couldn’t breathe in the best way. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cling onto any part of him you can, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the group, as well as the three new people, were witnessing you sobbing against Rick’s chest. 

You spent days with Tyreese, Carol and the girls, and after what happened with Lizzie and Mika, you were beginning to lose the little amount of hope you had left. You were terrified that the people you called your family were dead or lost somewhere. 

But here they are. Beth was missing, and though you were scared to know what happened to her, you couldn’t deny just how happy and grateful you are that you were reunited with most of them. 

“Y/n,” Rick mumbled and you held onto him tighter. “I thought you were gone.”

It sounded like those words physically pained him to say, and you shake your head before burying your face against the side of his neck. “I’m here,” you cry, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Rick pulled back and gently gripped your jaw, his eyes taking in your features as if he still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him. “You got out,” he rasped, his thumb stroking your cheek with a barely-there pressure. 

You nod, tangling your hands in his damp hair. “With Tyreese, we found Carol a few days later,” you tell him then quickly add, “Well, she found us.”

Rick smiled at your words and it was the prettiest thing you’ve seen in weeks. “You got out,” he murmured, so quiet you barely heard it. 

You just nod again and push yourself upwards. Rick meets you halfway and kisses you multiple times, making you laugh against his mouth. “I got out,” you whisper and press a few kisses to his cheek and jaw, then you are wrapped up in his arms again.

Carl makes his way over to you just as Rick reluctantly lets you go and hugs Carol, and you smile down at your boyfriend’s son, who just wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you tight. “Hey, buddy,” you greet quietly, draping your arms over his shoulders as you glance back at Rick. 

“Hey,” Carl said back, looking up at you with relieved eyes and a look you’d never seen from him. “Missed you.”

Your lips part in a silent gasp, not used to hearing those kinds of words from him. You were sure he was still a bit upset that you were with his dad instead of his mom now, but were pleasantly proven wrong as he squeezed you one last time before stepping away. “I missed you,” you’re finally able to say as Rick comes back over and pulls you into his side. “And you.”

He grinned down at you and kissed the top of your head just as the red haired man speaks up, “You guys are the luckiest sons of bitches I’ve ever met,” 

You furrow your brows as Glenn laughs, wrapping his arm around Maggie’s waist. “We’re not lucky very often,”

“Yeah, well, both you and Rick here found your better halves,” the man said and adjusted the strap on his gun. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky. It’s a miracle we got out of that damn train, too.”

“That wasn’t luck,” Daryl grunted as he looked between you and Carol, and it was then when Rick clued in.

He tightened his hold on you as he asked, “That was you two, wasn’t it?”

You shrug while Carol lets out a rare, short lived laugh. “I couldn’t lose you again,” you mumble. “Not when I hadn’t even gotten you back yet.”

Rick falls silent at that, and he locks his jaw in the way that told you he’s holding back his emotions right now. He pulls you into his arms again and kisses the top of your head, muttering, “Thank you,” once he pulls away. 

“There’s something else,” Carol says, making everyone look over at her. “But I think we should show you rather than tell you.” 

And that was how you found yourself wrapped up in Glenn’s arms once Rick finally let you go after he saw that Judith was alive and being held by Tyreese. You return your best friend’s hug as you watch Rick cry quietly, taking Judith from the man who protected her with his life for as long as you’ve been separated. 

Maggie comes over to you and hugs you as well as Carl runs over to hug his sister, and the whole thing was like something straight out of a movie as you felt a warmth take over you.

You were back with your family. They were all alive. They were okay. 

The two men share a look as Rick realizes that he had Tyreese to thank for keeping Judith safe, then Sasha is hugging her brother with tears in her eyes. You pull away from Maggie as Rick hands Judith to Carl, then you are engulfed in his embrace. “Thank you,” his voice was raspy and his breathing was uneven, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears again as he held you tight. “I thought she was gone. I thought Judith was gone.”

You hugged him back, sniffling quietly. “We had to grab her quickly, we just took what we could before getting out of there,” 

Rick pulled away and kissed you, his hands reaching up to grip either side of your face. “I love you,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much. Thank you for keeping her safe, all of you.” He glances back at Carol and Tyreese, who just nod at him, then he is focused back on you. 

“I love you,” came your hushed reply, and you leaned in to rest your head against his shoulder, finally feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

[zombiigrll]

FOREVER GRATEFUL FOR YOU. ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 3.7K (JESUS.) ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst + comfort (mostly angst), retelling of the walking dead 8x8 (so slight spoilers), use of y/n, reader death, blood, your regular zombie apocalypse warnings, cursing, kissing, mostly just sad stuff!! .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ i am SO SORRY for how INSANELY LONG this is. it took me like 3-4 hours to write oh my god. hope you guys enjoy anyhow though<3

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carl told you he was going on a run to find the man the two of you had spotted at the gas station. you begged to go, and eventually, he caved. the two of you had known each other since the start, being neighbors and all. you were in his house while you waited for lori to get ready to take the two of you to school, and thats when everything went down. with all of the things he saw you do, he knew you could take care of yourself.

...or he thought you could.

the two of you were lucky enough to find the man from the gas station and you found out his name was siddiq.

"i'm gonna ask you a few questions. i need you to answer honestly, okay?" carl told siddiq.

"..okay." siddiq nodded.

"how many walkers have you killed?" siddiq looks around, thinking. "i know it's hard to keep track-"

"237."

"really?" you raised an eyebrow, impressed, but skeptical.

"give or take a couple." siddiq shrugged.

carl nodded in response before continuing. "how many people have you killed?"

"one." the man averted his gaze to the ground.

"why?"

"the dead tried to kill him, but... they didn't." he explained, looking back up at the two of you.

"you've been making walker traps? is that how you've been killing all of them?" you asked, crossing your arms as you looked at the scenery of traps and the deceased walkers behind him.

"it's only part of it. my mom thought- or hoped- that killing them would free their souls. you know?" he clarified, seemingly upset but proud talking about his mother.

"doing that, doesn't that just make things harder for you while you're trying to survive?" carl inquired, furrowing his brows.

"i don't know.. i.. but you.. you gotta honor your parents, right?"

...

the three of you had been walking for a little while before you guys came across a couple walkers in the distance, crouching down near a tree.

"okay. for your mom." carl smiles and siddiq before facing you, signaling for you to join.

you grabbed your knife that was holstered across your waist, stepping forward alongside siddiq and carl. but shortly after, there was too many. at first it only seemed like a couple, enough for just the three of you to take care of quickly. but they began coming in from other sides of the forest, and you were cornered. you were stepping back to try and get more distance, but you twisted your ankle on a tree root, causing you to topple on top of the tree laying on the ground. the walkers began limping towards you as you looked frantically around for where your knife had went. but you were too late. two of the walkers were down on the ground, one on top of you and the other on your side. you tried your best to push the one over you with one of your hands while searching the ground for your knife with the other one.

*chomp!*

a pain rushed through your side, but you didn't think much of at that point due to feeling the handle of your knife, quickly picking it up and jamming it through the skull of the walker on your side, then into the one in front of you, pushing it off of you.

right as you did so, you were met with carl staring at you wide-eyed.

"oh my god, you're covered in blood." he ran over to you, crouching down next to you and grabbing your hand. "are- are you bit?"

he helped you up and you stared at the ground, then at your bloodied clothes. "...no. i'm okay."

you weren't okay. you knew what had happened to you, but.. you couldn't tell him. not now. you were lucky enough that your shirt had fallen over the bite when you stood up.

"are you sure? you don't feel anything at all?" he repeated his question, his hands on top of your shoulders while he looked at you with concern.

"i'm sure." you nodded, wiping your hands on your legs. "we should.. we should head back now."

carl sighs. "...okay."

you felt like shit.

...

the entire walk back, carl was extremely cautious of any walkers, hoping there wouldn't be another close call on the way.

"...i love you, carl. don't ever forget that." you said, you voice low and slightly shaken.

"i love you, too. are you okay?" he was surprised at your sudden comment, which proved to have made him a bit anxious.

"yeah, yeah. i just wanted to say i love you." you smiled quickly at him before looking back down at your feet as you continued walking. you could feel your ankle that you twisted earlier was pulsating, and you could feel the bite beginning to eat away at your body, but you tried your best to keep your composure. you wanted your final day with carl to be normal.

...

you guys got arrived at alexandria and you walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. you stared at yourself in the mirror, taking in everything that had just happened. you removed your jacket and lifted up your shirt to reveal the bite, which was still leaking with blood. you couldn't take your eyes off of it. you shook your head while tears began falling from your eyes, processing this whole situation.

"fuck." you let out a breathy laugh before taking your shirt completely off.

you grabbed some of the medical supplies from behind the mirror and put it over the bite so it wouldn't bleed through new clothes. you grabbed a clean shirt from the laundry basket behind you and put it on.

you wiped the tears from your eyes, cleaning up your appearance a bit more before exiting the bathroom.

"there you are. how're you doing?" carl sat up from the couch and walked over to you.

"oh, i'm doing fine." you smiled up at him, interlocking his hands with yours. "hey, do you know where that camera is?"

"camera?" his eyebrow raised as he tilted his head with curiosity.

"yeah, remember? the camera? i used to always use it to take photos of you and judith." you reminded him with a laugh.

"oh, the camera!" he joined the laugh. "it's in my room, i'll go get it." he began walking in the direction of his room swiftly, coming back with the camera in hand shortly after.

"thank you." you took the camera from his hands, quickly pointing it up and taking a photo of him.

"ah, hey!" he chuckled, covering part of his face.

you grabbed the photo from the camera before pulling him into a tight hug.

"hey.. wheres judith?" you inquired, your head buried in his neck.

"she's up in her room, why?"

"we should hangout with her." you broke from the hug with a smile, putting the camera into your bag before heading into the direction of her room, carl following shortly behind you.

you walked into her room and picked her up from her crib. "hey, jude." you spoke in a soft voice, holding her gently in your arms. carl smiled at your actions. he's always had a soft spot for you and judith.

you began walking outside with judith in your arms and carl following by your side. you sit down on the steps of the porch, setting judith down in between you and carl. you dig into your bag and pull the camera out again, holding it up and taking a picture of the three of you.

you take the photo from the camera, moving it down to judith so she can see. as carl looked down at the photo that was forming, he notices how shaky your hands are.

"hey, your hands are shaking.." he points out, putting his hand over yours.

"oh, hah.. i'm okay. i don't know why i'm shaking so bad." you shrugged it off nervously, setting the photo in your bag along with the camera.

"..okay." carl nervously responded, nodding his head slowly.

"hey, carl?"

"hm?"

"do you remember before all of this when you came over to help decorate my room and my mom let us dip our hands in paint and put it above my bed?" you reminisced on the moment.

"oh, yeah, i remember!" carls nervous expression turned into a smile. "i remember asking my mom when i got home if she would let me do that. we never got the chance to."

"...why don't we do it now?" you asked, smiling back at him.

"do we have paint?"

you looked around and spotted some blue paint on the side of the porch. "there!" you pointed to it before grabbing it, setting it right next to you. "we could put the handprints right here on the porch."

you dipped the palm of your hand in the paint, setting it down on the porch. carl did the same after, except on the opposite hand of yours.

"hey, isn't blue your favorite color?" you asked carl, noticing him getting more excited about the paint after you found the blue paint.

he nodded, lifting his now blue paint-stained hand off of the porch.

the two of you faced judith, then each other. you carefully grabbed both of judiths hands and dipped her palms in the paint, setting them to the side of yours and carls prints.

the three of you giggled happily, smiling at each other.

"now this porch is ours." you proudly stated, glancing at the handprints drying into the porch. "let's go get our hands washed."

you carefully picked judith up with your non-paint stained hand and brought her to the bathroom to wash her hands.

...

it was the next day. it felt fairly peaceful- well, besides your body weakening. you knew that you were getting closer to your limit. carl was in the other room resting. you found a pile of envelopes and paper, and proceeded to write. your first note, of course, was to carl. after that, you wrote to michonne, rick, daryl, maggie, then judith. sure, she couldn't read, but for when she's older. you had also found some jewelry beads and string. when you and carl were younger, the two of you had friendship bracelets. his was blue, which had always been his favorite color, and yours was purple. you decided to recreate it for him to remember you by.

once you were finished, you put them on your wrists, covering them with your sleeves.

...

it was now night, and negan had came to alexandria. a feedback was played on the intercom before negan spoke into it. we was speaking about apologies, and whoever gave the lamest one would be killed. you all were given three minutes to open the gate for them. you felt your fever begin coming in, your body temperature quickly rising.

"come on." carl whispered, nudging you in the shoulder to snap you out of your daze, doing the same with michonne. "y/n, michonne! come on!"

"you guys go. i'll deal with them, okay?" you told him, to which he instantly shook his head disapproving.

"no, you're coming with. it's not something we're discussing-"

"go." your voice turned stern. "i'll be fine. they won't get me. i'll distract them and give you more time to get everyone to the sewer. then come back to the watchtower."

carl looked like he was about to say something, but you cut him off with a kiss. as you pulled away, you smiled at him reassuringly. "trust me."

carl furrowed his brows before looking up at you and nodding, nudging michonne to lead her away.

you began walking up the ladder to the watch tower, hearing negan give final warnings to rick despite him not being there.

you stood up on the watch tower. "rick isn't here."

"oh, shit!" negan said in his annoyingly enthusiastic tone. "everyone, everyone, hold your fire... it's y/n. look at you. answering the door just for him. sucks that he's gonna come home to a big smoky surprise."

"there's families in there. theres kids, carls baby sister." you crossed your arms, looking down at him.

"well, that shit just breaks my heart." negan said pathetically. "there's kids at the sanctuary. even had a baby at one of the outposts. i wonder what happened to her."

you stayed silent, angrily glaring at him.

"none of this shit's fair, kid. carl knows that."

"don't." your voice turned stern.

"he had to kill his own mom. that is screwed up." negan bringing up lori and her death filled you with rage. god, you wanted to get rid of negan right then and there. but you were smarter than that.

you took a deep breath. "bad stuff happens, but we can figure this out. we... we can stop this."

"rick had it that i died, no matter what." he reminded angrily. "he gave my people a choice, not me. now we're gonna need a new understanding. apologies, punish-"

"kill me."

"...what?"

"if you have to kill anybody, if there has to be a punishment, kill me. just me. serious."

"you want to die, girl?" he scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you.

"no... no, i don't. but i'll die if it means everyone here lives." you averted your eyes, looking down and noticing carl standing by the ladder waiting for you. "if.. if all of this ends, or makes things different because i die? it'll be worth it. i mean, was this your plan? is this really who you wanted to be?"

negan looks away, which gives you an opportunity to get down the watchtower and back to carl. you try and get down the ladder as quick as possible, but you trip at the last step.

luckily, carl was there to catch you. "shit, you're sweating bullets. are you okay-"

"nevermind that, we have to go!"

you and carl ran around alexandria, throwing the smoke bombs around as negan and the saviors begin launching their grenades into the homes.

as you guys are running around, you begin getting dizzy and your body heat is increasing.

you walk up onto the porch of one of the houses, laying the back of your head on the front door as you catch your breath. you wipe the sweat off of your head, breathing heavily.

carl walks up to you, throwing a smoke bomb behind him. "what's the matter with you?"

you shook your head. "nothing, nothing. i'm fine. just.."

you and carl come to a halt at the sound of a bomb hissing behind you. you turn around to face the house and just before the bomb blows, carl grabs you by your hand and tugs you towards him, stepping back away from the house.

as your body presses up against him, he notices your body temperature at a high. "jesus, you're burning up. here, the sewer is right here."

he lifts up the sewer cover and begins crawling down, signaling for you to follow after him. you walk over and step onto the ladder, pulling the sewer cover back over to cover you guys.

as you get to the bottom, you turn around and see everyone, safe. you start breaking down, covering your mouth as you sob.

“y/n? whats wrong? its done, were safe, everyone is safe.” carl says with confusion and panic in his tone as you stay silent. "...please, say something. you're scaring me."

“…im sorry carl. im so sorry.” carl raises an eyebrow.

you lift up the side of your shirt, revealing your bite to everyone.

carl stares at you, his eye becoming glossy and his brows furrowing together as his breaths deepen. he shakes his head. “no.. stop.” he turns around with his hands behind his head, shaking.

“it happened when i was trampled by the walkers.” you admitted.

“why… why didnt you tell me then..? you told me you were fine!” his voice was wobbly as he tried calming down.

“because i didnt want my last day to be spent with you worrying. i wanted your genuine happiness, not you masking your emotions because you knew it would be the… the final time.” your voice cracked as you spoke.

carl stayed silent, understanding, but still denying the whole situation. “i cant- no-“ he began to cry, running up to you and hugging you tightly. one of his hands laid behind your head and the other along your waist. “you can’t leave me. not- not like this, please.”

“i’m sorry. you’re gonna be okay, carl. you… you’re strong. stronger than anyone i’ve ever met before.”

you broke from the hug and began taking the bracelet off of your wrist, handing it to him. “here, take it.” carl wiped away the tears flowing from his eye before reaching his shaking hand out to the bracelet, taking it from your hands and putting it over his wrist.

"it's.. blue." he remembered the conversation you two had the previous day about his favorite color.

"yep. just for you." you chuckled, rolling your sleeve down and holding up your wrist to reveal the bracelet you made to match his. "we always wanted matching friendship bracelets, remember?"

you moved your hands up to the sides of his face, smiling widely at him with tears in your eyes. “you’re gonna be okay…you’re gonna be okay.”

before carl could say anything, you let out a loud wince as a pain shot through your side. carl quickly grabs you, stabilizing you.

"do.." he sniffles. "do you need to sit down?"

you nodded and carl helped you down on the ground. he held your hand tightly, pulling it up to his face.

"i can't..." he cried.

"i know, i know." you brought up your free hand to move his hair out of his face, moving his head to face you. "you're so sweet. i'm so.. so glad that i got to spend my whole life with you. i'm sorry you couldn't spend yours with me."

he shook his head in shock. the sewer cover opened, and rick and michonne stepped down, noticing carl resting his head on your hand and your beaten up and dying frame sitting on the ground.

"y/n?" michonne called out, her eyes widening at the sight of you.

you glanced over to her with a saddened smile. you brought your free hand to lift up your shirt again to re-reveal your infecting bite. rick walked over and put a hand on his sons back, staring at you somberly.

"...i got bit." you sighed, a tear falling from your eye. "me and carl, we were bringing someone back. his name is siddiq. he was the guy you saw at the gas station before."

rick shakes his head, covering his mouth. michonne steps closer to you with tears in her eyes. she had always been such a supportive person for you and carl, especially since lori had passed. "it wasn't the saviors, it wasn't anyone. i just.. i got bit."

...

"the saviors are gone. we can get everyone to the hilltop. we can get y/n to the hilltop!" carl argued, squeezing your hand tightly.

rick sighs. "she wont-"

"daryl can get one of the cars."

"y/n can't leave here." rick sternly says. "she doesn't have enough time."

"...i have to stay with her." carl shakes his head, looking down at you.

"carl.."

"if she can't go, then i'm staying with her." he repeats, a tear falling from his eye.

"..can you take judith?" rick asks daryl.

daryl nods, picking her up. "yeah. i'll get her there. i'll keep her safe."

"let me say goodbye." you weakly ask.

daryl sets her down near you, and she begins walking towards you.

you weakly smile at judith. "i already know you're gonna be incredible. you entered this world at a bad time, but that will only make you stronger. you're gonna grow up, make friends, find someone you love.. you'll live." you look down at the ground with a smile. "just like your mom said to carl, you're gonna beat this world. you and him."

judith begins whining, and thats when daryl picks her up again.

"goodbye, judith." you waved. "goodbye, daryl."

after stating your goodbyes to a couple people, you felt yourself beginning your end.

"i don't.. i don't know how much longer i have left." you held carls hand tighter. "i don't want to die in here."

"here." carl wraps your arm around his neck.

...

carl and rick helped you to the house across the way, setting you down carefully inside.

"th-thank you." you coughed. "i.. i have one more thing for you, carl."

"what? what is it?" he kneeled down next to you.

"it hurts to move, it's in my front pocket. please grab it."

he reaches in hand into your pocket and pulls out the envelop. "this?"

you nod. "open it."

he opens the envelop and reads whats inside.

'carl, you have always been there for me, ever since the beginning. after losing my family, you helped me. you, rick, and lori all helped me. i never thought that it would end this way, and i'm sorry i put you through this pain. i'm glad i met you. i'm glad you ended up being the one. i wouldn't have traded you for anyone else. thank you, and i love you. through life and death. - y/n.'

tears began flowing out of his eye yet again. he brought up a hand to cover his mouth.

"we grew up too fast. but we grew up together. i'm forever grateful for you, carl grimes." you laughed, holding his hand. "i love you."

"i- i love you, too." his voice cracked. "everything i did was for you, y/n. every single thing."

"that doesn't have to change. you have to be there for judith now, too. she needs her brother." you moved your hand up to his face. you felt your fever start to set in, and your brain felt like it was shaking alongside the rest of your body. "...it's time, carl."

"do you want me to.. to do it?" he put his hand to the gun that was holstered on his side.

"i can't do it myself. i can't move." you cried with a smile still laying across your face. "i'm sorry."

"it's okay." he took out his gun and moved his free hand to the side of your face.

"can i have one last kiss?" you chuckled. he nodded and leaned in, kissing you. you closed your eyes and felt the metal go to the side of your head.

and then all the pain went away.

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[babyyblues]

for the prompt list.. #14 with daryl. preferably reader is the one who says it to daryl 🙏

#14. "Look at you a blushing mess" era: farm (no spoilers) warnings: soft daryl !!!

-

“Hey pumpkin, can I join ya?” you asked lowly, looking up at Daryl as he sat atop the RV. He ignored the way his ears burned, as he gave you a curt nod continuing to watch out upon the field of the Greene farm. 

“What did I tell ya bout them nicknames,” he grumbled, holding his hand out for you as you climbed up, settling in beside him close enough for your thighs to brush against each other. 

“That you love them and I should definitely keep doing it,” you sneered, reaching out for his hand to intertwine your fingers. He froze at the sudden contact before relaxing in your grip, subconsciously allowing his thumb to rub against your smooth skin. 

“Lucky I like you,” he mumbled, looking over at you, unable to stop the spread of his lips as his eyes landed on your smile as you chuckled. 

“You love it, and you love me,” you teased, puckering your lips, your silent way of asking for a kiss. He rolled his eyes yet didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours, once, then twice, and three times before pulling back to look at you. 

“I do love ya,” he whispered. 

“I know you do sweetheart, and I’m the luckiest girl in this damned world,” you confirmed, placing your hand on the bottom of his jaw. You watched as his face reddened, feeling the heat from his cheeks radiate in your hand. 

“Look at you, a blushing mess,” you murmured, scratching lightly at the scruff that graced his chin. He scoffed, pulling away from you as you laughed quietly. 

“Get out o’ here, you’re distractin’ me,” he joked, squeezing your hand before pulling you as close as you could get to him before actually sitting on his lap. 

“Can’t get rid of me that easily Dixon, ‘m here for the long run.” Looking back up at him, you placed a sweet kiss on his neck and cuddled into his side as a strong breeze hit. 

You sat in comfortable silence under the stars, letting your eyes shut as you listened to the crickets and Daryl’s soft breath.

“Gettin’ tired?” he asked lowly, running his hand up and down your side. 

“No, just enjoying the moment.” 

“Enjoying watching for walkers and danger?” You huffed out a laugh, flickering your eyes open to see him already looking at you. 

“No, enjoying being here with you. Alive, safe, and in love.”

“Don’ get all cheesy on me,” Daryl said a small smile on his lips.

“Can’t help it, jus’ love you ‘s all. This is the first time since this whole thing started-” you cut yourself off with a yawn, “that I’ve felt so secure.” 

“Knew you were tired, you should go rest.” 

“Stop trying to get rid of me, ‘m not leaving your side.” you quipped, changing your position so your head lay on his lap and you were looking up at him. 

“Stubborn pain in my ass,” he mumbled under his breath running his hand through your hair, before pulling his jacket off to lay across your body as another gust of wind burst through the air. 

“Sleep here then.” You nodded, yawning once more before turning to get comfortable. 

“Goodnight pookie,” you slurred. 

“Y/n,” he scoffed earning a chuckle from you. He reached down to pinch at your side, causing you to jerk as you laughed. Shaking his head, he continued his movement in your hair to calm you back down. 

“Goodnight.”

[zirconika]

nine lives of a thief

⇚ NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST || THE WALKING DEAD || DARYL DIXON

SUMMARY: Years after your first love broke your heart, you’re stunned to see him among the newly welcomed group of survivors in Alexandria, and his return might just be the cure to your heart that’s been malfunctioning ever since he left. Your personal goal to put everything in the past is interrupted by his mission to win you back. WARNINGS: (WILL ADD MORE) MAJOR angst in progress. lots of time skips between chapters. reader has hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, characterized by the swelling of the heart. talks of miscarriage, domestic violence, and an abusive relationship with a past spouse. features the line-up in later chapters. SETTING: First few weeks in Alexandria and pre-apocalypse flashbacks spanning all the way to the Commonwealth.

A/N: hi, guys! this is gonna be my first writing a long series, but also my first time uploading a fic on this new blog. forgive me if it takes some time to update, but i'll definitely make time for it!

SERIES MASTERLIST ༊*·˚

ONE | Living in High Cotton

TWO | The First Life

THREE | [In Progress]

i'm still building my blog. so for now, just send me an ask to be added to my taglist :)

DARYL DIXON TAGLIST: @vaniniweenie

[shrenvents]

Haunting Fear of the Dead

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, implied (small) age gap, survivors guilt etc

Pairing: Rick Grimes x reader

Summary: Negan’s aftermath served as the last straw to instill in you, the belief that nothing lasts forever.

Word count: 1k

...

The conversation rings in the back of my mind, and your face dominates my thoughts. That despairing, lost expression still makes me wonder whether I crossed the line.

Life is moving too fast, and the overwhelming concept of inevitable death, and her vivid memory haunt me.

The idea, that you may see her in my eyes...

Things fall apart, and I'll never be her.

I knew Lori for no more than a week before she died. And now I've known you for several years, yet she hasn't left my side. Has she left yours?

Your wife and I couldn't be more different.

A troubled, younger girl, who can't help how unloveable she feels. How vulnerable I am. How susceptible I am to doubt. Versus the mother of your child. Your woman before the fall.

How can I compare? How can you love me? After this tragedy and loss, how can I return your love?

Maybe these are all the things I should’ve conveyed, but the moments gone, and I’ll never get you back Rick.

…

"If ya sigh one more time girl, I'll smack you," Daryl intimidates passively, and I snap my obscure stare at him below my post. Then, looking at the world outside these metal walls, one last time, I turn to the ladder. "Call Rosita, I'm tired."

"Nuh-uh, if I'm here all night, so are ya," He challenges, catching my gaze. He holds it before scoffing in defeat, obviously feeling guilty, after viewing my sorrowful appearance.

As I pass him, he grips my forearm. "I know things are bad right now, but yer a survivor," he murmurs, full of pity. "And if ya ain't gonna believe in yerself, believe in Rick." He trails off, and I nod to make him loosen his grip, so I may walk away.

Things just blew over with the Saviours, now that Negan is behind bars. But regardless, death plagues my conscience. How can I think my happiness is important, or everlasting when my survival is just dumb luck?

Ending things with Rick rang so much truth to that.

Now lonely and isolated, I only have myself to blame. Since confusion and indecision left my bed empty, my head is full of profuse distress.

To this day, after weeks, I'm still unsure of what I was trying to achieve -what I was running from, and why was it him?

No, I know...

I feel it again, her looming behind me. Lori. Whispering stories of their pleasant life together before Walkers existed.

Her ghost regularly tells me how life would be different if it wasn't the end times. She remarks how Rick wouldn't look my way if I wasn't his only option.

My rapid imagination slows to silence when I pass his house. I picture Carl on his porch bouncing Judith to sleep, and misery brutally latches onto me, forcing me to remember what is lost.

'You left him when he needed you the most...' Lori breathes.

Tears prick my eyes, and I bite my bottom lip to reduce its trembling. Then, a call of my name drags me out of the dark, and I seek out its source.

"Rick?" I reply, swallowing my cry and straightening my back. Blinking frantically, I assess him as he marches towards me, seeing concern playing across his features.

'Good things aren't meant to last...'

"How are you?" I croak.

"Fine," he stammers slightly, "you?"

"I'm well," I lie pathetically, and even though he clearly doesn't believe me, he accepts my response nonetheless.

"Shouldn't you be patrolling the wall?" He questions hesitantly.

"Yeah, but Rosita offered to take over, to let me rest you know?" I murmur with a shrug like I'm asking him to confirm my lies. He nods again, seeming just as awkward. "Need me to walk you back?" Rick proposes, motioning his pointer in the direction of my place. "No," I utter flatly, far too fast. He gulps, unable to hide his dejected manner.

A beat later I wordlessly amble away, but he hollers my name again, and I freeze, whirling around, brows furrowing. "Can I walk you back?" He urges this time, and his dilated pupils hold such fervour and desperation, that I give in. "Okay," muttering, I look to the ground as he jogs to my side.

Walking closely together, we're uncomfortably quiet. I peer at him and see his eyes squeezed shut as he inhales, expanding his chest to its limit.

"Rick?" I mumble. His eyelids pop open, and he swivels his head to mine, brows raised.

"Why are you," exhaling, "forcing yourself to-" I cut myself short, and he grasps my meaning. "I'm not forcing myself to do anything," Rick rasps. "If anything, I'm forcing you, to be with me," he drops my befuddled stare. "I'm sorry," he grunts.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I splutter as a wave of grief, racks through me. "I'm the one with problems," my meek voice gets choppy.

The pace of his legs falter. "Problems," he echoes, puffing a soundless laugh in disbelief. "Problems I want to hear," he more or less pleads. I faintly shake my head.

When I stagger, Rick stops moving completely, and captures my hand, yanking me squarely to him. I take in how alarmed his features appear and again, wish I was alone so I could cry.

"C'mon beautiful, talk to me," he begs, cupping my hand in both his palms, and when he utters my name of endearment, I finally break.

Liquid flows down my cheeks, and Rick, with his thumbs, hopelessly tries to sweep them aside. But the more his rough pads graze my skin, and he pulls me closer, adorning me with such affection, the more tears stream.

He wraps his sturdy arms around my smaller frame, tugging me tightly to his chest, and I collapse into him. He holds me upright when my knees buckle, and simply lets me cry.

"I broke up with you, why on Earth are you consoling me?" I sob, words escaping my mouth in messy bundles.

Sighing, "Because I love you," Rick's voice grows rocky, "and I hate to break it to you," he chokes up, "that isn't gonna change, just 'cause ya don't feel the same."

His statement makes a louder cry erupt. But, I struggle to muster the courage to dispel, the third lie told tonight.

Of course I love him.

"I'm here, always," he soothes, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck, and I feel water drip onto my nape.

As my arms encase his shaking body, Lori materializes behind me.

Reminding me, for the hundredth time:

I don't deserve Rick Grimes, and I never will.

[captain-tch]

Closet (Daryl Dixon x PlatonicFem!Reader)

You had been hiding a part of yourself for years, it only took the world to end to finally speak your truth.

You stood on Aaron and Eric's porch, bracing yourself against the railing. They had prepared dinner for yourself and Daryl, as payment for bringing some spices back from a supply run. It was a lovely gesture, and it made you hate yourself even more when you couldn't stand to be in their company for too long. It was the hand holding, the loving gazes, the inside jokes. It was the way they shared gentle touches, so openly and so in love. It was the kisses and the laughs and the smiles.

It was hard to recognise the nasty feeling festering in your gut. It turned your gaze green and made yourself bitter.

You were jealous.

You shook your head, leaning back, trying to let the night wind wipe your sadness away. You wanted to push past this feeling - Aaron and Eric were lovely people, good people, yet you felt yourself turning sour the longer you spent in their company.

The door clicked softly behind you. You jerked, frantically wiping a hand at your cheeks. You turned, expecting to see Aaron or Eric wondering why you hadn't come back in after twenty minutes, but it was Daryl. You smiled weakly, secretly grateful that you didn't have to endure being in the presence of the lovebirds. Even on their own they managed to ooze cupid's scent.

"Hey." Daryl stood beside you, turning to look up at the night sky. The stars twinkled back. "Beautiful night."

You nodded in agreement, attempting to muster the energy to talk, to explain your disappearance.

"Food was good."

You nodded again.

Daryl sighed, playing with his fingers, tugging softly at the cuticles. "Look, ya know I'm no good at this small talk shit. I think we've been friends long enough to skip that crap, and you've been acting like this ever since we got here. Distant."

You bit your lower lip, taking comfort in gnawing at the skin. Your heart wanted to spill it all, to let loose your truth, but your fear kept you trapped.

"Did Aaron or Eric do somethin' to ya?"

You were that shocked at the thought you snapped your head to his. "No. They've been nothing but kind."

"Then what the hell is it?"

"I -" You averted your gaze, keeping your eyes glued firmly to the wood of the porch. "I can't tell you." You muttered, hating how water splashed on your cheeks. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Daryl reached forward, softly grabbing you under the chin, turning you to face him. You tried to muster a smile, though it did nothing to hide the tears freely pouring down. "You're cryin'."

Your hand moved to your cheek absentmindedly, aggressively wiping the wet away. Defeated, you pulled yourself away from Daryl, slumping to the floor feeling as if the world was trying to pull you down.

A beat of silence passed, then two. You wanted to speak; the ball in your throat choked the words. "Whatever it is, ya can tell me."

You pulled your chin into your knees, shoulders sagging. Your chest felt tight, the possibility of letting the truth pass your lips stealing your breath. But then you spotted Daryl at the edge of your vision, his brows creased in concern. He was your closest friend, your greatest confidant. You had told him about your night terrors, and he slept beside you, a moment away, to protect you from the monsters haunting the land of dreams. You leaned on him when you had killed in self defence. You relied on him to watch your back on runs, and he hadn't failed you yet.

He hadn't outright spoken to you of his past; he had let his lips loosen more around you than anyone else. He showed you the cigarette burns - never his back. You never dared to ask, knowing that was one private terror he would spill in his own time.

This man would never judge you. He would never press for more if you weren't ready, and he definitely would never leave your side. He was your platonic soul mate.

You released a heavy breath, scooting along to make room for him. Your voice was as quiet as a mouse - as a hunter you knew he heard. "I've never told anyone."

Daryl was quiet, accepting your invitation and settling in beside you. He didn't move to comfort you; he sat close enough to know he was there.

You clenched your fingers into your palm, the pain of the nails biting into the skin distracting you for the self destructive thoughts whizzing around in your head. "I'm jealous of them."

"Why?"

He's going to walk away, your brain whispered. He's going to leave you and you will be all alone surrounded by people. He's going to sneer at you and ignore your existence.

A large, calloused hand pried your fingers out of their fists. The skin of your palms cried in relief, sharp indents speckled with blood released into the air. You looked up at Daryl, and at his hand.

You screamed at the voices in your mind, uttering the words you never spoke aloud. "Because they're living their truth, they're not afraid."

Daryl stared at your crumpled form, it taking a moment to sink in. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water - no one had ever told him this kind of thing before, he had no idea how to respond. Turns out Daryl didn't need to worry, because the moment you started talking you unlocked the door you had kept barred shut for years.

"I've known ever since I was a teenager, kept it as quiet as I could. I dated, but it never went past the first date. I couldn't... be myself, and I think it's because I couldn't accept myself, and I think my dates could sense that too." You laughed darkly. "You know how if you were applying for a job, you had to state your sexual orientation? I always put "prefer not to say" as I was afraid to admit to the world that I'm a lesbian." You looked at Daryl, trying to sense any shift in him. He hadn't started cursing you out or walked away. The doubting voices in your head quietened.

You sniffled. "I'm envious of their confidence. Their openness. Is that stupid?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, it's not."

"You know what the stupidest thing of all is?" You shook your head, "It's taken until the end of the world to admit out loud that I am a lesbian."

Daryl wrapped his arm around you, bringing you close. "Proud of ya."

You relished his warmth, the warmth of your best friends embrace eradicating those voices for good. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and you could tell him about a part of your life you had kept hidden for so long.

"Thanks."

Daryl squeezed the hug tighter around you. "Feel better?"

"Bit."

"Well, come on. Dessert is waiting." Daryl got to his feet, putting his hand out to you.

You gulped, looking at the hand, then him. "You don't think any different of me, do you?"

"Hell nah, you're still a dumbass in my eyes."

You snorted.

"And hey, I can be your wing man."

"I'd love to see that Daryl."

As you walked back into the warmth of Aaron and Eric's home, you felt a peace settle inside you. The conversation didn't solve your insecurity and anxiety, but you felt better having admitted your truth out loud to your best friend.

You were on a long journey to accept yourself, whilst dealing with the trials and tribulations an apocalypse could bring, but in that moment, you were happy.

In your mind you repeated I am a lesbian, a smile forming on your lips.

the walking dead masterlist

[ruewrote]

𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦.

PAIRING: glenn rhee x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: on my mind by ellie goulding WORD COUNT: 521

navigation | ask | the walking dead masterlist

it hadn't really clicked how you felt about glenn until the well situation, how he was dangling above a walker like... bait.

how your heart got caught in your throat as you watched and heaved the rope back with the others, how the tears stung in your eyes.

how you couldn't even look him or the others after the incident. separated from the group, your tent next to daryls.

glenn of course tried to talk to you multiple times, but you brushed him off. making yourself busy in the process, going on food and medical supplies.

teaching carl how to hunt and maggie how to kill the walkers.

the moment played on your mind every waking minute.

you had been with the group since the beginning, you were actually with glenn when you had found some of the others.

andrea not taking a liking to you immediately but her sister amy did.

the both of you had gotten closer since her death.

it came back around that somebody had to go further out for supplies this time. of course he volunteered. you refused.

"you can't keep letting him put himself in danger all the time, its not fair! just because he's what 'faster'?" pushing yourself onto your feet off of the couch.

"y/n it's fine really i—" he interupted but that didn't stop you from continuing.

"it's not, this is total and utter bullshit. he's been putting his life at risk since he got he and i bet he's done it before you arrived."

they all agreed for a different plan, a safer one for the boy.

the meeting was dismissed and you made your way out of the house with your head hung low. trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

grabbing a woven basket and started your chores.

slightly moving each chicken so you could grab the eggs, standing up straighter as footsteps were heard behind you.

rolling your eyes when you came face to face with glenn.

"okay seriously dude what is your problem?" still ignoring him but listened to him talk.

"first you are ignoring me, now you're sticking up for me?"

you just walked around him, stopping when he lightly grasps your arms holding you closer to his chest, face to face.

tears welling up in your eyes as you looked into his.

"i shouldn't be feeling this way. i barely even know you! it's so stupid." your words came out wobbly as you shake your head.

glenn listened whilst he wiped away the fallen tears from your cheeks.

"i-i just can't see you get hurt, you are always the one to jump to put your life in danger and no one ever second guesses it. it's not fair damnit."

"if i knew any better you'd think you've got a littl crush on me." a blush spread across your cheeks as his shoulder playfully knocks into your own.

looking at your dirty boots knock together in response.

"w-wait really?" no you're lying!"

gathering everything you had in and placed your lips against his, feeling as he almost instantly shuts up and melts in the kiss.

"woah..."

© ruewrote.

[zomb-core]

۫ ꣑ৎ HURT || carl grimes x female reader

summary: you return from a run badly injured and you were certain that carl’s worried appearance was worse than the injury itself. (first time saying "I love you")

(intended lowercase)

warnings: injury, brief mentions/description of gore, slight angst, argument.

slight angst to fluff

you woke up to the sounds of voices, you weren't sure who was speaking but you could tell that they were angry, worried, but angry.

you looked around the room you were in only to notice it was the infirmary, you were confused on how you ended up there, the last thing you remember was being out on a run with glenn and rick. you couldn't recall getting injured or falling unconscious, but then again you couldn't remember much of anything, your head was pounding and your brain was foggy.

you propped yourself up on your elbows to assist yourself in sitting up only to be met with a sharp pain to your left side. you groaned in response and fell back onto the mattress, you could hear the commotion around you quiet once they noticed you were awake. you could see bodies beginning to hover over you but you couldn't make out their faces due to the light shining directly into your eyes.

as disoriented as you were, you were curious as to what kind of injury could've rendered you unconscious. you slowly lifted up the side of your shirt to reveal bandaging that had been wrapped around your torso, a bit of blood seeping through the white surface. that's when it hit you, the events of the run all came flooding back to you at once causing the room to start spinning around you.

you looked over to the group of people surrounding you, squinting as you tried to make out who was in the room with you, but your attempts seemed to be useless. “is glenn okay?”

you heard someone say something in return, what you could only hope was a ‘yes’ before the room went dark around you.

you had been finishing up clearing out a store when you caught a walker sneaking up on glenn while he was focused on a small group in front of him. you had to jump over a few things to get to him, it didn't take long but it did cause you to trip and fall into the walker. luckily you landed on top on it and you were able to quickly dig your blade into it's skull, but due to the amount of adrenaline pumping through your veins, you didn't notice the large piece of glass that had pierced your side until glenn had gasped, turning away from the walkers he had previously been working on killing off. you looked down and saw what had caused his reaction and that's when everything went black.

it didn't take long for you to wake up again, this time being immediately met with the face of your boyfriend hovering over you. “carl?”

you could tell he was glad you were awake but you could also tell he wasn't pleased with you and you were only proven right when he spoke, “what were you thinking? do you know how reckless you were today?”

you slowly sat up to get a better look at him, wincing at the pain that accompanied the movement. “I was helping glenn, he could've gotten bit—”

“glenn can handle himself.”

“and I can't?” you shot back, angered by his remark.

“clearly not!” he said, gesturing to the infirmary bed you were laying in. you could see the anger occupying his expression along with the worry in his eyes and you couldn't help but feel guilty.

“carl…”

“you could've died.” your gaze drifted to the blanket that was draped over your legs as you began to fidget with it. “I can't lose anyone else, y/n.”

your chest tightened at the way his voice trembled, you didn't mean to cause him so much distress. you acted without thinking and as reckless as it was you were okay and so was glenn, but it didn't seem to help ease the frustration and concern carl was filled with.

you caught your lip between your teeth, searching for something to hopefully reason with the boy next to you, but you knew it would be better if you put your stubbornness aside and admit what you did was dangerous, so that's what you did.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to help— I know that doesn't make it any better, but I did what anyone would've done even if it was.. stupid.”

you heard him sigh before he crouched down to level with your face, his hand finding its way to your jaw and tilting your face towards him. you watched as he examined your features, you assumed he was looking for wounds that went unnoticed by denise. once he determined you were okay he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you close to him. you whimpered softly at the jolt of pain you felt but quickly decided it was unimportant and buried your face in the crook of his neck, looping your arms around his torso, “I didn't mean to worry you.”

“I just want you to be more careful.” he spoke, his words accompanied by a shaky breath, “I don't know what I would've done if I lost you.” he pulled away to look you in the eye, using his hand to push your hair away from your face so he could press a kiss to your forehead.

you nodded, thinking about what you'd do if you lost him and wondered if he'd do the same thing. “I will be, promise.” you reassured him, using your hand to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing motions on his cheekbone. “forgive me?”

he chuckled softly, ducking his head down and nuzzling it in the space between your shoulder and neck, pressing soft kisses against the exposed skin. “you’re hard to stay mad at, you know that?”

you smiled, glad to see he wasn't upset with you anymore. you understood where his concern was coming from, it was nice to have someone care about you that way especially when the world was so evil.

“I love you.”

you pulled back, shocked by his proclamation, “..what?”

“when I saw glenn carry you through those gates with you covered in your own blood..” he paused, haunted by the image of you in that state, “I noticed that I couldn't lose you, that I couldn't live without you.. I once asked maggie how she knew she loved glenn and she told me I would just know, and today, seeing you like that, I knew. I love you, y/n.”

you felt your breath catch in your throat, your eyes brimming with tears while searching his face for any sign of a lie. you could tell your reaction scared him, it was written all over his face, worried he had said the wrong thing, but it quickly changed when you grabbed his face and crashed your lips against his, mumbling how much you loved him and how happy he made you.

“I love you, I love you so much.” you said, resting your forehead against his, both of you wearing a matching smile. “if I would've known almost dying would've made you notice you love me I would've let it happen a long time ago.”

he gave you a fake laugh and gently shoved your face away, “haha, very funny.” you watched as he stood up and walked away, returning shortly with a water bottle in hand which he handed to you before adding onto his previous sentence, “but seriously, if you ever pull some dumb shit like that again I'll be pissed at you forever.”

you took a swig of the water, staring at him with the same geeky smile from moments ago. “as if you could stay mad at me for that long.”

a/n: this was more on the short and sweet side, I have more stories coming I just wanted to upload something so forgive me if this seems like a filler.

masterlist

[forgetminot]

Stay With Me.

♡ Rick Grimes x gn reader ♡

[ Warnings : Reader gets bit, blood, gore, violence, amputation, angst, angst, angst, profanities, tiny tiny bit of fluff if you squint, late prison era before the governor attack ]

Author's Note : My first Rick fic of many because I'm an older man simp. Should i write part two, with some fluff? O.o

Prompt/Story Idea : "I think I'd look cute as a walker, don't you?"

You had been on many supply runs since the world fell apart, planning ahead; making sure you had a simple way in and out of whatever building you were looting. You started off alone, that's how you preferred it, it was easier that way- at least that's what you thought. Days turned into weeks and then into months and running alone just wasn't an option anymore. The dead roamed the street more than ever and you needed safety in numbers; so you found yourself a group, a family.

"If you stick to the back entrance, you should get in and out quick and easy." You nod. Taking the crumpled map from Glenn's hand, folding it up and placing it in your ragged bag. "Rick should be here any minute."

"Rick?" You question. "I thought it was Daryl and I doing this one."

"Rick thought it was best that he went out on a hunt, to get the food supply up more."

"I thought it was the better option." You turn in the direction of Rick's voice, as he jogs down the hill towards you and Glenn.

"Well, okay then." Smiling, you open the passenger side door and glance over your shoulder at Rick. "You can drive." You wink throwing the car keys at Rick and he catches them with ease. Raising your eyebrow in approval you hop into the car, throwing your bag on the back seat; Rick does the same.

It's about an hour drive to the location. Rick and you spend the time talking back and forth about how you would pull this run off quick but efficiently. You reach and grab your bag from the back seat, pulling out the map Glenn gave you. Your eyes scan across the old paper, red pen scattered across it from where Glenn had marked. "It's just up here." You point to the road on your left and Rick turns in, pulling up and switching off the engine.

"Ready?" Rick asks, you nod and open the car door, stepping out onto the gravel floor. You throw your bag over your shoulders walking towards the run down pharmacy with Rick following you close behind. "I take it your leading the way on this one?" You stop, turning to face Rick.

"If that's okay with you?"

"Course it is." You take your machete out from its holster, gripping the handle tightly in your hand. Tapping on the window, you and Rick wait patiently. "Nothing?" He asks.

"Nothing." You state. Opening the door you enter the pharmacy, it's a complete mess; shelves knocked over, old medical supplies and glass shattered all over the floor. "Watch your step." You whisper. Rick nods, heading over to one of the fallen shelves and he lifts it slowly; standing it back up on its base. "Anything?" You ask as you scavenge what you can from the shelves and drawers.

"Some filthy bandages. 'will need a good clean." He shoves them into his bag and continues to search the aisle.

"Keep an eye out for condoms!" You shout. Rick stands up, staring at you from over the shelves; a confused look on his face. "Glenn wanted some." You state, Rick rolls his eyes as you laugh and he returns to the box he was looking through. you head towards a separate door with the word 'office' signed above it. Placing your hand on the door handle you turn it- but it doesn't budge. ''Must be blocked'' you whisper to yourself. Turning to your left you position yourself at the door and ram your right shoulder against it, once, twice and then a third time. "Third time's the charm." You smile to yourself as the door flies open from the force.

"Fuck!" You shout, placing your arms against the body in front of you, you force the walker back and sink your machete into its skull, blood splashing against the walls. It falls to the ground with a thud.

"Y/n!" Rick rushes into the room, his knife raised. "Shit! Are you okay?" He asks, glancing down at the now dead walker.

"I- I think so." You're out of breath, chest heaving up and down with every word you say. You take a seat in the office chair and place your machete down on the desk. " I didn't even hear it." You state, shock covering your face. You freeze. Staring down at your forearm; it's drenched in blood, both from you and the walker. "No! No, Fuck! No!" Sunk into your arm is a bite mark, fresh and dripping with blood; you turn pale just from looking at the bite. Rick takes slow steps towards you, lifting your arm up to his height and gently rubbing the blood away.

"We need to amputate it." He's calm as he speaks, but you can see the panic written on his face.

"What?" You gasp, standing up and stepping back from Rick. "Yeah, no." You laugh quietly to yourself. "I think I'd look cute as a walker, don't you?" So many thoughts are running through your head. Maybe you would prefer to be a walker? Is it worth the amputation if you bleed out anyway? What if it doesn't work? What if we're too late? Rick's eyes are pleading with you, staring you down and you don't know what to do. You are an hour away from the prison, there's no way you'd make it back in time. It needs to be done now, while there's still time. "Okay." You say, your voice barely a whisper. "Do it." You sit back down, placing your arm firmly on the office table. Rick quickly removes his belt and ties it around your arm. Taking your machete, he raises it above him and looks you straight in the eyes.

"Ready? On three." You take a deep breath looking away and staring at the bloody wall. "One-" He brings the machete down with force and you scream out as it slashes your skin, tears streaming down your cheeks as he continues to cut through your bone, blood and flesh covering the table. "Stay with me." He whispers as he takes one last swing with the machete, cutting your arm completely from your body. You can't move, you can't talk. You sit frozen in fear, staring down at the bloody stump where your arm once was. Shaking you look up at Rick as he rips the bottom of his shirt and wraps it around your amputation. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the room from spinning. Your head feels extremely light as you shake it back and forth. "Stay with me." Rick repeats as he scoops you up in his arms, rushing through the pharmacy and out to the car. He pulls the back door open and lays you down on the back seat, before rushing to the drivers seat and turning on the engine. "Keep those eyes open!" You barely hear anything he's saying, your whole world feels like it's closing in on you. "Please, don't die on me" Rick says to himself, fingers tapping against the stearing wheel. Those are the last words you hear as you fade into the darkness.

[xoxo-sarah]

Easy Street

(Gif by @amazingmaeve)

↝a/n: not completely accurate but I didn't feel like rewatching the episode rn. Also didn't have a good title for this...Enjoy <3

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

↝warning: based on season 7 episode 8, after Daryl escapes the sanctuary, easy street mentioned, soft/ sad Daryl, reverse comfort, Daryl not use to comfort, bathing, getting underdressed (Innocently / non-suggestive), angst, fluff idk, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 7.18.24

Daryl Dixon Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Feeling the dirt under your fingernails, you continued to pluck the vegetables from the garden of Hilltop. Ever since the night your group was forced on their knees to endure your friends getting murdered, it wasn't the same. You felt hollow. Daryl getting taken only added to that feeling. But you tried not to think of him much, it only made everything worse. Staying in Hilltop with Maggie was the safest option. You had someone to look after, something to do to not go out looking for Daryl yourself. Maybe even try to kill Negan with your own hands. Hearing a commotion coming from the gate, you stood, dusting your hands off on your pants as you went.

Looking up, you saw Daryl stumbled off of the motorcycle that wasn't familiar with Jesus by his side, being greeted by Maggie. His eyes were downcast, trying to hide the vulnerability that threatened to spill over. You watched from a distance, your heart aching for him. Blinking back the surprise, you approached slowly, not wanting to startle him.

Daryl looked up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. Whatever he endured during the sanctuary shown in the bags under his eyes, the glaze in his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip.

Feeling your arms gently wrap themselves around his middle, he was hesitant to reciprocate- as if you were the one that had been through everything. Your hug was the first real comfort he'd felt in a long time, and he clung to it, fighting back tears.

Looking up at his face from up close, you could see the grime, dirt, and blood coating him. You figured you were the same. Busying yourself with gardening and killing any walkers you see outside the walls was therapeutic, well, as much as it could be. It got your mind off of the issues at hand for a minute or two.

Pulling away, you grabbed his hand, nodding at Maggie and Jesus, before dragging him with you.

Silently, Daryl let you lead him to a small trailer in the corner, and to the even smaller bathroom. He watched as you began running the water, pushing his hair away from his sticky forehead. There was a mixture of gratitude and hesitation in his gaze, as you caught it.

Here you were, running a bath for him after you, yourself, had the posture to say you needed warmth to seep onto your bones just as much as him. But you didn't say a word, putting his discomfort as a higher priority.

The picture of you, kneeled down on the rocks and dirt entered his mind. Your eyes that, no matter how hard you tried to mask it, showed how scared you were. The shellshock you went through when Lucille struck down the first time. The tears that cascaded down your cheeks when Daryl had stood, anger getting the best of him. The sob that escaped your lips when he was dragged to the back of a car and carried away. He couldn't imagine how you felt when he was away.

He would listen to Easy Street a thousand times over if it meant that you would never have to go through anything of that sort ever again.

After standing in silence, watching his brain wonder, you stepped forward, hands tugging at his dirty clothes. Gently, you helped him peel his shirt from his body, along with every other article of clothing.

As you kneeled beside the tub, you carefully washed away the grime and blood. You began speaking in soothing tones, "Wanna talk about it?" You knew the answer. He didn't like talking about stuff like that, stuff that happens to him, stuff that hurts him deep down. That just wasn't him, as much as he wanted to be, for you, it seemed impossible to open up like that. To be vulnerable. Shaking his head, he let the tension in his shoulders slowly ease as he relaxed under your care. He wasn't going to tell you the hell he went through, the things he saw. He certainly wasn't going to tell you that you were the only thing on his mind while he was kept in the stale building, in the cold little cell.

Not much else was said, only your humming and Daryl's thoughts swimming in his head.

Once he was clean, you helped him get dressed, tracing at the scars on his back, reminders of all he's been through. He was strong, you made sure he knew it. He hopes you know you're just as strong, if not stronger, than him. Words died on his tongue when he looked down at you taking care of him. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke, "Thanks." A simple tight-lipped smile let him know that you knew that one word has a thousand confessions behind it. He wasn't the best at speaking his feelings but he didn't have to be with you. You just knew.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[unadulterated-syd]

warnings -> twd warnings,, blood, death, injury etc.

pairing -> carl grimes x reader

pronouns were requested as she/her but it's not really specific bc i don't use pronouns in my fics + there's nothing that makes her fem or masc or anything. sorry about that!

req -> @carlgrimeswifey

tysm for the req, they're always wide open for carl tbh

this is unedited but i might go back and edit it soon,, enjoy :)

Just another run.

Thats what you'd told yourself, now bashing the head of another walker as you fended them off— sheltering you partner from the bulk of walkers.

You didn't even know the girl, Hannah you recalled her saying. But every life was equal now, no money to change that, no skills going unturned anymore.

She was hurt, you didn't know how bad, but she had a bite. That much was obvious.

She was panicking, you were sure she'd never seen someone survive a bite. However, you had, and you were determined to save her. She was your responsibility.

You took out the last of the small walker group, turning to Hannah. You pulled off your shirt, jacket wrapped around your torso— quick thinking had never been a strong suit of yours.

You wrapped the fabric around her arm as a tourniquet, hoping she wouldn't lose more blood then she already had. God, sometimes you swore you weren't cut out for an apocalypse.

"Please, please, I don't want to die—"

"Shh, don't talk like that. I've seen people survive this, just stay still."

You were quick to realize you needed something to dull her screams, you didn't want to silence her pleads, but you also didn't want walkers to take a few more bites.

You grabbed her sleeve, ripping at it, before balling it up— "I'm sorry, but I don't want any more walkers here."

She complied, and her weeps dulled, as you needed.

You pulled for your hatchet, one you carried with you often. You were very thankful for your need to carry it, today would be the first day it could save a life.

As you turned to Hannah, you heard crunches— the unfortunate warning that someone or something was near. Even worse, it being the Walkers friends.

You had to do this quick, you raised the hatchet, just in time for Hannah to dodge your movement. She spit the fabric from her mouth to speak,

"Get out of here, can't you see—" she paused, it was easy to see her weakness, loss of blood catching up. "All the.. the fucking walkers. Y/n, go!"

"Without you? No way in hell."

You sighed, she wouldn't let you get the bite detached, but you could get her back to camp. In other words, you couldn't save her, but you could give her family the chance to say goodbye.

You looked around, analyzing the situation— you needed a way to get you both out as safely as possible.

You pulled her up, ignoring her whimpers and soft fighting. Pulling her arm over your shoulders, carrying her weight as you pushed through the brush.

-

By the time the two of you had hit the road back, Hannah became unresponsive. Alive, but unconscious, and unfortunately it was inevitable that the girl would turn any minute.

You let out a groan as you set her on the pavement, falling beside her in exhaustion— glad the two of you had lost the walkers through the brush.

You sat there for a minute, contemplating your next move. Not that there was much to contemplate, you couldn't bring her back to camp. It was a good two days out without a vehicle, she wouldn't make that trip.

You could try to pull her along, find help along the way— but it would be dangerous. She could turn at any minute, or the travelers could be dangerous.

And then came the only choice that guaranteed anyone would make it home alive. Killing her.

You'd killed before, always in self defense, and never if it was unnecessary. And here it was necessary, but you never enjoyed killing. It wasn't a hobby, nor a joy. It just was the gruesome truth of the new world.

Taking a deep breath, you re-adjusted onto your side, looking at the girl. She was barely hanging on.

You'd lost countless people, and everytime you wish you'd been there, but now you wished to be far away from the situation. Irresponsible for another life, a young one at that.

Your eyes desperately searched her, hoping you'd find anything to bring to her friends. Your eyes eventually landed on a ring, one you slid off.

Maybe your conscious would quiet if you'd brought something back, keep the memory of the life you took alive. Survivors guilt, you swore your mom would've referred to it as.

You sighed, pulling out your gun and setting it in your lap. You really were going to do this. You had to.

"I'm sorry."

-

The trip back was exhausting,, to say the least, the lack of rest paired with being on foot. A part of you wished desperately to complain, but you were alive. Hannah couldn't say the same now.

You didn't get the chance to face your grief, the will to live distracting from any thoughts really. Your legs ached, mouth dry, stomach empty, but it didn't affect you. You had done this all before, except now you were truly on your own.

Finally sitting down for a break, your mind flashed with memories of the night Hannah was bit. You had gone 2 days without her, yet she was stuck in your mind every second.

She hadn't even been your friend.

It brought you back to Earth— you were still human. Someone that would've never had to kill in the world you'd known, someone that was no longer different than anyone else. The norm, yet another that killed to survive.

You knew you should've tried to do more for her, but a hidden desire within you left you aware that you'd killed a girl. A girl who may have had a chance, even with a bite.

-

You didn't break for the rest of the walk, your guilt like a dear friend marching alongside you.

You had only been a good hour out at most, and as the sun went down it became clear how hurt you truly were. Those swings were tough, every time you killed a walker you gained more wounds, because a part of you imagined they were you.

The built-up rage within you led to dangerous acts of violence, even if the mindless monsters deserved it. Because your brain sided with your heart for once, a mind littered with too much thought. A mind clouded by anger, fear, and guilt.

However it all faded as you reached the camp walls, it went blurry from there. The flood of questions, the flurry of sadness, the weakness in your bones. You were safe now, your thoughts could eat away at you, there were no true distractions now.

Before you'd even come to realize it, your brain told your legs to go. You were at his doorstep before you had time to comprehend how he would react, sadness covered in rage, as per usual.

The door swung open before you'd even finished your knock; because he'd been expecting you. He didn't know how— or why, but he knew you'd be there.

"Carl.."

"Y/n, you idiot."

He pulled you in before you had much time to react, slamming the door in frustration. You knew him well— you knew his tears evaporated into anger, as they always had. Frustration was the only true way he described his worry.

"What were you thinking?" He looked you up and down, a way of hiding his worry whilst checking for any major issues.

"No bites." Your voice strained, the lack of usage leading to a rhaspy and quiet tone. You didn't want to fight, you want to lay down and ignore the last couple of days.

His eyes softened, a part of him wanted to scream and lash out— but what would that prove? That he was an asshole? He sighed, one hand nervously messing with his hair.

"What.." He paused, shaking his head, and forcing his sterness back. "What happened. Where were you?"

You almost laughed— he sounded like a dad who's kid had snuck out. Not a boy stuck in a cruel loop of walkers and death.

"Hannah wrecked the car." You told him, honestly, "We ended up needing to walk,, and.."

You didn't finish, he could figure it out on his own. No Hannah at the gate, happiness drained from your face, it was rather obvious.

"You could've gotten killed—"

"Damn it, Carl, I know— D'you think I'm not self aware?"

"You have to be more careful."

"Do you think I planned to lose the fucking car? You really think I'm that stupid?"

"No I dont— I think.. I think I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, okay?"

You froze, eyes narrowing, "Carl, what is this about."

"I love you."

"Then act like it, I just killed a girl and you're lecturing me on safety."

He sighed, it was true. Even if you had obviously not taken his confession seriously, he was being a dick.

"I'm sorry." He groaned, wrapping his arms around you, "How hurt are you?"

"Just my hands, really."

He hummed, as you reciprocated the embrace. You stayed like that for awhile, a time that would never truly feel long enough. Eventually breaking, and agreeing to meet in his room.

You sat on his bed as you went through your bag— your run had been to a pharmacy a town over. After finding alcohol wipes and bandages, he met you in the room.

"Heads up."

He tossed the packages to you, taking a seat on the bed next to you, falling back into a laying position.

You poked at the packaging, sliding open the alcohol pad box, ripping at the packaging, and applying it to the cuts and bruises.

"Mind lending a hand, Grimes."

You tossed the bandage roll at him, unable to wrap your own hands. He groaned on impact, messing with you, before sitting up and complying.

His touch was gently, a fragile way of showing he was there. Even if all he was doing was wrapping bruised hands in guaze.

He cared more than he'd ever be able to explain, especially if he was meant to use words.

You smiled at him, as his face contorted with concentration.

"I love you too, by the way. Even if you're an asshole."

"You really think I'm an asshole?"

"No. But don't let it get to your head."

"I will."

-

tags -> @carlgrimesslover

to be added to any tag list just send in an ask,,

find rules for reqs + masterlist in navigation

there r plenty of carl fics on my page if you just go to masterlist,, all at the top there :)

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Title:A Fight For Survival

--

In the desolate wasteland, the abandoned warehouse stood as a grim reminder of the world’s collapse. Its skeletal remains were dimly lit by the weak light seeping through broken windows. The oppressive silence was occasionally broken by distant groans and the shuffle of the undead, signaling the encroaching danger.

Daryl Dixon was slumped against a rusted metal pillar, his face a mask of pain. A severe wound along his side had him barely able to move, his bow resting uselessly on the floor beside him. His breath came in labored gasps as he tried to stay alert despite his injuries. The warehouse had become a trap, overrun by walkers, their guttural growls growing louder with each passing moment.

You, a skilled survivor and his steadfast companion, had been through countless perils together. This time, however, the stakes were higher. Daryl’s injury left him vulnerable, and the threat was imminent. You were determined to protect him. With a deep breath, you readied yourself, gripping a makeshift weapon—a metal shard attached to a sturdy stick.

The first walkers appeared, their groans filling the space with a chilling certainty. Without hesitation, you sprang into action. The clash was immediate and fierce. Each movement was a blend of desperation and precision, your weapon cutting through the encroaching threat. The walkers’ unnatural, jerky motions made them unpredictable, and every successful strike was met with the unsettling sounds of crumbling flesh and bone.

Daryl’s eyes, usually so steely, now held a mix of fear and frustration. He tried to rise, but pain kept him grounded. “Leave,” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the chaos. “Save yourself.” But you weren’t about to abandon him. You pushed through the throng of walkers, defending him with every ounce of strength you had.

Amid the battle, you carved out a temporary safe zone. The weight of your task was immense, each decision a matter of life or death. The relentless walkers seemed to multiply, their numbers overwhelming. Your focus was laser-sharp, every swing of your weapon purposeful and driven by the need to keep Daryl safe.

Slowly, the tide of battle began to shift. The walkers' numbers dwindled, their advance slowing as their bodies accumulated on the floor. You could feel your strength waning, but the sight of fewer walkers gave you renewed energy. With the immediate threat reduced, you hurried back to Daryl’s side.

You knelt beside him, breathless and worn. “We need to get you patched up,” you said, your voice shaky but determined. Daryl looked at you with a mix of gratitude and relief. The battle had forged an unspoken bond between you, a testament to the trust and reliance that had deepened over time.

Carefully, you assisted Daryl to his feet, guiding him through the wreckage of the warehouse. Exhaustion was evident in every step, but the silent understanding between you made the journey bearable. As you reached a safer corner, the immediate danger had passed, leaving a heavy but welcome silence.

In that moment of quiet, the severity of your situation and the strength of your connection became clear. The world outside remained perilous, but together, you had faced another deadly challenge and emerged stronger for it.

Request if you want something different 😊

[babyyblues]

Rescuer

Request: "Can you please do 21. "Get behind me. Now.? The reader, M/F and Daryl go on a run and they run into the reader's abusive ex. Daryl says #21 as he pushes them behind him. You can figure out how it ends. "

prompt 21: "Get behind me. Now" ​

Era: Prison (Mid-season 3) no spoilers

Summary: Daryl Dixion finds you all alone, and after learning about your past that reminds him of his childhood, he vows to protect you. So what happens when you run into the one who once made your life a living hell?

Word Count: 3,120

warnings: dv mentions (Slight description of violence), child abuse, twd violence and gore

A/n: OMG ITS HERE!!! I'm really excited to share this as it's my first piece for Daryl, and I hope everyone reading enjoys it. Please feel free to leave feedback and let me know if there's anything I can change to improve my writing!

The day Daryl Dixon first laid his eyes on you, he was sure he was about to watch yet another person get eaten by the undead. You were surrounded, breathing heavily as you did your best to fight off the walkers around you. Exhaustion hit you and you weren’t sure how long you could keep this up. Your eyes widened as a walker lunged at you, ready to feast on the flesh of your dirty shoulder but you breathed a sigh of relief when a bolt shot right through its brain. You let out a grunt as you turned around, shoving your dull knife repeatedly into the head of the last of the small herd, falling to the ground as even more of the smelly walker blood splattered all over your face. You stared down at the massacre, doing your best to catch your breath before looking up at the man who helped save you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice horse from the lack of use. 

“You alone?” he asked, stepping toward you making you flinch and take a step back. 

“Um y-yeah,” you studdered, nerves raking through your body as your eyes shifted from the crossbow in his arms to his piercing blue eyes. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he watched your body begin to shake, his presence seemingly making you more nervous than any of the undead did. He watched as your knuckles turned white, hands trembling around the grip of your knife. Stopping in his tracks, he strapped the bow securely behind his back, placing his hands in your vision. 

“ ‘M not gonna hurt ya,” he confirmed, “jus’ makin’ sure ‘m safe.” You nodded slowly in understanding, hesitating before releasing the knife. 

“We have a camp bout half a mile back, jus’ need to ask you three questions ‘fore you can come.” You nodded again, waiting in silence.

“How many walkers you killed?”

“Lost count,” you murmured. 

“How many people have you killed?” 

“None,” you shook your head along with your answer, looking back up at the man. He nodded, looking around him before beckoning you to follow him back. After walking for what seemed like forever, your eyes landed on a prison and as ironic as it was you felt immediate relief for the walls and safety that you hoped you come from this building. 

Walking into the courtyard, you felt eyes on you causing you to want to shrink into your self and if the man noticed, he didn’t say anything. You walked quickly trying your best to keep up with his long strides, following him as he walked into the building. 

“Rick!” he called out, waiting for the man to come around the corner. Your eyes landed on another man, this one a bit taller and leaner, his hair sticking to his neck. 

“Found ‘er alone in the woods,” he grumbled, walking away leaving you to cower in front of the man you assumed to be Rick. 

“Rick Grimes,” he said holding his hand out for you to shake. You flinched at the sudden action, stumbling backward, your hand flying to grab the knife that sat in your waist, ready to defend yourself if need be. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, “what’s your name?” 

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n,” you answered quietly taking a deep yet shaky breath before releasing the weapon. 

“Daryl said you were out there alone?” he asked, earning a nod in return. 

“This whole time?” You shook your head in response, swallowing hard to find your voice again. 

“Got separated from my group not too long ago,” you told him, averting your gaze to the cold floor beneath you. Rick nodded. 

“Were you trying to find them?” You shook your head lightly. 

“I uh- I was just trying to stay alive.” Rick studied you for a second, the room falling into silence so loud your ears began to ring. 

“Well I assume you’ll want a shower and your clothes to be cleaned, I’ll find you something to wear in the meantime and then we can get you something to eat, we have plenty. I’ll have Daryl check in on you and help you get settled in if you want to stay,” he said before leading you through the cell block to the shower area. 

“I’ll send someone with the clothes, gotta pump this to get the water going,” he demonstrated the process for you before leaving you alone. You took a minute to look at the space around you before shutting your eyes and taking a long deep breath. 

“ ‘Scuse me,” you heard a young girl say gently. Regardless of how low her tone was, you practically jumped out of your skin at the noise.

“Sorry, I’m Beth, I just brought those clothes Rick told you about,” she rambled earning silence in return, “I haven’t been able to find a jacket for ya yet, and the shirt might be big but I’m gonna go look for a jacket for you.”

As she hurried off, you grabbed the clothing before turning back toward the shower, pulling the makeshift curtain closed, you felt the familiar sting of the tears that sat behind your eyes as you carefully stripped out of your clothing, stepping underneath the stream of lukewarm water. A hiss escaped your lips as you made your best attempt to scrub clean not only the dirt and grime that seemed to be embedded in your pores but the marks that seemed to never go away. Tears were now steadily mixing with the water, and you turned around to start the nasty and undoubtedly tiring work on your hair that had been matted to your head. 

After finishing, you slipped on the clothes Rick had promised, ironically folding the dirty clothes into a neat pile before exiting the shower areas. Daryl was sitting at the table, looking up when he heard footsteps emerge. 

“Took ya long enough-” his words died down on his tongue immediately as his eyes trailed across your figure. He took in the sight, a thin tee shirt hanging off your malnourished frame, deep spots of black and blue riddling the entirety of your upper body, the most gruesome being the taunting handprints that stained your throat. You looked back down, unwilling and unable to catch the piercing gaze of the man before you. 

Daryl’s breathing immediately caught in his throat, he knew these weren’t normal walker dents and bruises that people are accustomed to these days. How could he not know? He knew what it was like to be beaten on by the one who swore to love you. How you were unable to leave a situation that was literally killing you. And maybe this is why Daryl had such a soft spot for you, and why this stranger, whom he didn’t know the name of, caused a sea of red to flash across his vision. His jaw clenched as he made quick work of unbuttoning the top layer of his button-ups, to hand it to you. 

“Here,” he mumbled, reaching his shirt out to you, “might freeze out there.” Looking up at him slowly, you bit the inside of your cheek before grabbing the shirt, covering up your shame. 

“Thank you,” you whispered yet again. 

“Come on, we’ll get you settled in,” he said nodding up the stairs, intending to put you in the cell directly next to him. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, not enough for all of your bruises to fade or the nightmares to go away, and you honestly weren’t sure how you had worked your way to be as close with the front runners as you were. You had proved your strengths over and over again, going on runs with Daryl and helping out with tasks other than laundry and basic cleaning. You knew how to protect yourself, and as the trust built between you and the ones who surrounded you, you knew how important it was to protect them as well. 

You weren’t much of a talker, however, they felt as if they knew enough to trust you with the more important duties such as fench work and watch. You laid your blanket onto the chilled ground of the watch tower, preparing to start your shift. As you sat, you took a deep breath, thankful for the people around you, the security the walls held, and the brief time alone you had. It hadn’t been long before you heard the door open, but you didn’t need to turn your head to see who it was. It was always Daryl, the man who you undoubtedly grew the closest to, and the one who by far knew the most about you. You shifted over slightly, giving him plenty of space to sit beside you on the blanket so you could both watch out over the fields of the prison. 

“Just checkin’ in,” he mumbled as he took a seat, careful not to make any sudden movements in your presence. 

“I haven’t seen anything, just the walkers on the fence-”

“On you, I mean,” he admitted quietly. Your breath caught in your throat, your teeth immediately making their way to the inside of your cheek.

“ 'M fine,” you answered, earning a grunt in response. He turned toward you, catching your gaze before softening his features. He reached out to your shoulder, his aim for the same button-up he had given you. When you flinched, he retracted his hand quickly.

“Sorry,” he swallowed, “Jus’ tryna’ make sure you’re healin’. Can I?” Your breath was unstable, but you nodded closing your eyes tightly as he reached again for the button-up, this time lowering it just enough to take a look at the bruises that were across your arms. 

“Turnin’ yellow, should be gone soon,” he mumbled, taking his time to get closer and observe the ones on your neck, “this one’s gettin’ there, kinda blue.” He replaced the fabric onto your shoulder, returning to his original position. 

“My dad used to beat on me, I know what that looks like,” he confided in you, looking at you again, watching the way your eyes glazed over, tears threatening to spill. You sniffled, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“It was my boyfriend,” you whispered, the volume of your voice quickly leaving with the strong gust of wind that flew through the air. If Daryl didn’t still have his eyes on you, he might have missed it. 

“I was so stupid.” You let your head fall to your knees, the tears falling with it as your body began to tremble. 

“Don’t say that, ‘s not your fault.” You shook your head with a harsh swallow trying the calm the sharp pain you began to feel in the back of your throat. 

“No, n-no. I should have known better,” you mumbled. Daryl bit his lip and his tongue, fighting the anger that rose up in his body toward the one who did this to you. 

“Used to watch my dad beat my mom, guess towards the end of it I just thought it was normal then,” you spoke, your heartbeat picking up, an anxious turn in your stomach. 

“So when I met Max, I was young, and he was nice. He was so nice, and he loved me. I swear he did, and then it was small at first. He started getting mad about everything when I went out with my friends or was on the phone with my mom. Fight got so bad he backhanded me-”

“Y/n you don’t have to-” your head snapped to his, your wild eyes making contact with him for the first time you met. 

“He was sorry! He was!” you snapped, nodding your head crazily. You stood up, your balance questionable as hot tears ran down your flaming cheeks. Daryl got up too, ensuring that you weren’t going to fall out of the watch tower. 

“He said he was sorry,” you told Daryl again before collapsing back onto the ground in a wave of sobs. Without thinking, Daryl immediately dropped with you, pulling you into his grasp as you cried providing you with the comfort he could have only dreamed of for his younger self. You let yourself fall into Daryl’s chest, grasping at his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

Daryl sniffled from above you, biting his lip enough to taste a metallic bite on his tongue, willing himself from the tears that threatened to fall. 

This was the turning point in your relationship with Daryl. You found it so easy to confide in him, you knew he understood you and he was always willing to listen. It was uncommon to find a moment where you and Daryl were separated in fact, oftentimes spending the night in each other's cells, taking watch together, and going on runs. Months passed, and your feeling for Daryl easily grew as he showed you how a man should really treat you.

It started slow, the faint passing touches, then the longer more lingering ones. The distance that began to close when you sat next to each other, the eye contact you held with each other, talking about meaningless things. The flowers he brought back from hunts, and the eventual switching from bunkbeds to just the one. Forehead kisses turned to cheek kisses, soon turned to sweet kisses that would forever be embedded on your lips and in your memories. 

It was yours and Daryl’s turn to go on a supply run, the plan to go out just a bit further in the hopes the area wasn’t completely picked clean. Waiting for Daryl, you leaned against his bike, looking out into the sea of people throughout the courtyard. You heard his name before you saw him, people greeting him while on his way to you. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as he approached you.

“Morning,” he grumbled, unable to stop his smile in return to yours. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How’d you sleep?” 

“All that snorin’ of yours, I barely shut an eye,” he teased earning a light shove to his shoulder. He chuckled lightly, his hand falling to your hip.

“Didn’t seem to complain when I woke up with you practically on top of me,” you quipped back, standing up fully to meet the smirk on his lips. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Come on, sunshine,” squeezing your hip before hopping on his bike. You got on behind him, breathing in his scent as your arms wrapped around his torso. 

-

“‘Right let’s go, be careful,” he reminded you. You nodded in response, reaching for your knife. You approached the first building, an old convenient store, knocking on the glass like Daryl had taught you. He glanced at you, before nodding and watching your back as you entered the door. You replaced the knife with your gun, making quick work to clear the building as Daryl followed you from behind. Your footsteps slowed as you heard a rummaging sound, Daryl catching up to you and placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“Get behind me. Now,” he mumbled, raising his crossbow before making his way toward the sound. Following him closely, your eyes landed on a familiar form as the man shoved things into the backpack that was in front of him. 

“Put ‘yer hands up, and drop all of your weapons,” Daryl growled, his crossbow aimed right at his head. 

“Woah, woah, hey now,” the guy spoke, his hands tossing his knife away. The sound of his voice sent immediate chills down your spine, Your breath hitching as he turned to face you.

“Y/n?” he asked, taking a step toward you. You instinctively flinched, your hand gripping tightly on your gun as you took a step back. Daryl stepped towards him, his gaze unfaltering, and his crossbow coming close to his face. Max’s hands raised higher. 

“Hey man, take it easy. That’s my girlfriend-”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put one of these arrows through your skull,” Daryl confronted him. 

“Daryl-”

“Y/n tell him-” 

“Oh, she told me plenty. Told me all about how you couldn’t keep your hands off of her. How you’re a disgusting piece of shit.” Max ignored Daryl, looking your way before snickering. 

“What is this? You got yourself some kind of bodyguard? How pathetic. You lost me and like the whore you are you go and find yourself this redneck to take care of you-” he was cut off by Daryl’s crossbow dropping to the ground and his shirt being grabbed as he was forced against the wall with a thud. Daryl didn’t hesitate before, landing hard blows to his face, Max using all his strength to push Daryl away and tackle him to the ground to retaliate. 

You were frozen in fear, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall. Your hand shook around your gun as you watched Daryl regain control. 

“Daryl stop!” you yelled, your voice wavering. He pinned Max down, watching a bloody smile look back up at him. 

“Fightin’ over her, and for what? She’s nothing but a waste of space and energy- nothin’ without a man to tell her what to do and when to do it-” Daryl saw nothing but red but before moving he heard a gunshot ring out, Max falling limp in his grip as blood poured from his head. Daryl looked back at your trembling form, the gun in your hands still pointed at Max. Your eyes were glazed over as you watched Max’s life fade away. 

Daryl made his way toward you, grabbing the gun from your hand and letting it drop to the ground before pulling you into his arms. You tucked your head into his neck, the sobs releasing from your mouth as Daryl’s hand gripped your body tightly.

“Y/n, hey, look at me,” he whispered. You shook your head, his shirt tight in your grip. 

“Come on sunshine, show me those pretty eyes,” he spoke lowly, separating himself from you enough to lead your chin up to look at him. 

“You did what you had to do.” 

“But I-“

“No buts, you did what needed to be done. ‘M proud of you,” he said, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. You sniffled with a forced nod briefly looking over again at Max’s body before looking back at Daryl who had his hand open for yours. Picking up your weapons and stuff you deemed necessary, you made your way back to the prison, back to your home, with the person who mattered most.