#twd band au

[grim333z]

Accelerando~

{No outbreak au} carl x gn!reader

Summary: Music boyfriend part 3

Warnings : none.

"Do it again. But how I showed you, " he whispered his voice low deep and gravely against your ear as he held the chord with calloused fingers against the fret board, his other hand loosening his grip on your wrist, the lack of contact cold and disappointing . He hums quietly each time you do it correctly though it was just simple strumming and he was doing all of the hard work with the chords, a small sense of pride lingered, you had technically played an instrument, albeit with a lot of help. Carl changes the chord every bar or so, a simple yet peaceful song, as the sound rings through the air, a small smile creeps across your face, feeling the air in the room change almost, different, but not uncomfortable. It's just barely palpable.

"See, look, you're great," he mutters through his voice, hints to him noticing this change as well.

Neither of you mentioned it. It doesn't need mentioning, Neither of you're ready to talk about it. Hell, you could be imagining it. This could be totally one-sided, and he wouldn't even know, aside from you suddenly tensing up. Which you only realise you've done when he's stepping back, whispering quietly, timidly , like he's convinced he's done something wrong. "Sorry." and now you're trying to remember if you said any of that out loud, which you doubt you did because your lips never moved or at least you don't remember them moving but who even remembers their lips moving . But then again, you suddenly did just tense up. Obviously, Carl's going to assume something wrong and who else to put the blame on then himself.

"oh um, I should probably go, I've got homework and you know how they get when its handed in late" you ramble, slipping his guitar from your shoulder, the heavy instrument hanging outstretched towards him, the neck cold in your hand, despite his being exactly where yours is just mere moments ago.

"Oh, yeah, of course," he stammers, slipping his instrument into its stand, brushing his fringe out of his eye, "I'll walk you out" He says bringing his thumb up too his lip, running the chipped black nail over the dry raised skin waiting for you to make the first move, little did he know you were doing the exact same. "Right. C'mon, " he whispered.

The floor boards creak as you and carl walk down the stairs. The sounds of michonne helping Judith and Rj with their homework rings from the kitchen, the echo of the news spreads through the downstairs, assumiably Rick watching it. Your shoes are in a small pile next to the door, Carl lingers on the bottom step, gripping the bannister, chewing his lip. The air is heavy and awkward and uncomfortable, unlike before.

"So, text me when you get home" he says, an obvious attempt at breaking the silence, you thought so at least, unless Carl really belived he'd fucked something up so bad you'd never ever talk to him again, which was stupid of course you were gonna text him, and you hoped he would text you... you nod, pushing the front door open, feeling the coolness of the handle in your palm, a vast difference from your nervous warmth.

You make it maybe 5 minutes down the road, each step thinking about what could've or couldn't have happened if you'd hadn't tensed up,when a familiar voice rings out from behind.

"Wait," it was clearly Carl's voice but it wasnt monotone like usual. It was higher than it should be filled with anxiety or even a hint of sadness,then the fast-paced footsteps of Carl as his beaten up converse hit the pathement . You turn to face him, pulling out the earbud you'd put in.

"did I fuck up? Please tell me because I don't know what I did and I can't fix it if I don't know so you've really gotta tell me" he rambles fast and stressed like he needs all the words out of his mouth and an answer now. His breathing is heaving from sprinting after you and his face is twisted into one of worry and hurt almost. He clearly couldn't let this slip he needed to know what he'd done. Carl didn't do anything you'd just read the room wrong, Fuck, you don't know if you even did read it wrong or if there was anything to be read in the first place.

"I just read the room wrong, Carl, and I'm sorry it's stupid. I didn't mean to make you think you've done something wrong it just ... I can't word it... you know, and that was confusing. Sorry..." You huff out, looking into his eyes. They're glossed over like he could've started crying at any moment, which you didn't expect him to be the type of person to do that..over something so small.

"Oh... Waitwhat- what do you mean you read the room wrong...?" He stammers, eyebrows losing their hurt and morphing into one of confusion. He clearly didn't feel the same, it was one hundred percent one sided and fuck you had to explain this too him.

"Just you know." You huff, trying your hardest to avoid the confession that you thought something else could've happened feeling your face heat up in embarrassment, warm pink spreading faintly across your face and the tips of your ears though hidden by your hair. 

"I don't know, actually," Carl blinks, theirs a hint of a smirk on his face like he knows exactly what you're going to say, but you can't even tell if you're imagining it and getting all nervous and awkward for nothing.

"Just you were so... close to me, and it was - it was confusing." You're eyes drop to his feet.

"Oh." He mutters, he looks unsure, like he's not sure what you're trying to get at exactly. And if what he's thinking is even right.

"So...see you soon..." he mumbles his thumb, slowing on his lip,

"Yeah, of course, see you soon..." You respond, slipping a ear bud back into your ear.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Sooo... what about a Zombie Apocalypse or Virus AU where regular humans turn into zombies or drones or mindless beings, but those who have the X-gene, when exposed to the virus or bitten, get their powers, and can control the hordes? And they also kinda are affected by the virus, because they want more of them, more mutants, and want a horde or hive or pack or family...

Reader is on their own at first, after surviving some of the worst of humanity, and falls in with a small group of teem survivors (some of the X-Teens and Brotherhood, maybe an Acolyte or two). They all banded together as they can survive better together, and the hordes leave leave be, and they all trauma bonded...

But... they keep running into strange people, adults and teens alike, who seem too friendly and too nice, and always offer a warm meal or warm bed or safe shelter... and always seem to secretly be kinda insane...

(Can you tell I've watched Z Nation, two seasons of TWD, and various zombie movies?)

@sugar-soda @vivid-bun @thewickedweiner @hermesserpent-stuff

[steelstreqq]

pov i revive an old project from 2021 because i watched one sorry boys video

this is the 'rustout au', its a combination of TWD, fallout 4, and rust but i shoved silly block men (and ted nivison) in it. essentially its a zombie apocalypse au that takes place at some time in the 80s or 90s following a nuclear fallout that occurred due to undisclosed government activities with foreign global superpowers. none of the normal civilians really know why the nukes went off and only a few of the most wealthy in the community really were able to get down to the bunkers in time

there are a ton of characters i want to include in this au, but considering i made this in the peak of the dsmp fandom i have to be kinda careful to not pick out any ccs who are still a part of dream's posse.. :pensive:

so far, the other characters in this au who aren't displayed here are fundy, techno, philza, bizly, grizly, condi, connor, jack, eret, and a few others i cant think of rn >_<

some character information below ^-^

WILBUR G. SOOT - the widowed father to fundy. wilbur lived in a house in a suburban neighborhood with his teen aged son before the nukes went off. once the initial fallout occurred, will and fundy had an argument about where they should shelter. the day after the argument, wilbur awoke to find fundy had completely disappeared. grief stricken at the loss of another family member (under the impression that he was the reason fundy had 'ran off'), wilbur risked his safety to search for his son, traveling from settlement to settlement. he hated himself and blamed himself for his son's disappearance. by this point, he wanted to lie in the dirt and rot with the corpse of the land below him

TOMMY ZA - the adoptive son of phil, a single child. tommy was at school during the blasts, thus he was separated from his father. he and the rest of his school were ushered to the basement following the explosions to protect them from fallout. when given the all clear, tommy ran down barren streets to find his way home, and never did. too frantic and unable to navigate his way properly, he became stranded and lost. the crushing anxiety of being alone seemed to summon a taller man with a guitar case from a local town. he had found himself wandering into tommy's neighborhood. and therein, an alliance was formed.

"RANBOO" - ranboo is a mysterious creature who doesn't really appreciate questions about his history. tommy and wilbur found him a month or two into constructing their own settlement. ranboo was found uncomfortably asleep in a cramped car not far off from Dome. he was rudely awakened with a violent mugging from tommy. wilbur caught up to the shorter brit and apologized for his actions, suggesting that ranboo could stay at their camp as compensation for the troubles that tommy had brought to ranboo. ranboo reluctantly agreed and now is a part of the dome's settlement. tommy speculates ranboo is secretly a mentally mutated creature-freak-thing and must be put down immediately, ranboo just wants to eat dinner in peace.

CHARLIE SICKLE - charlie is the latest member to join the settlement. the former front man for the hit pop group Roll With You. during an england tour, the nukes went off and front man charlie had been stranded during his burger lunch break. separated from the rest of his band mates. charlie has faced deterioration in his mental state due to the stress of surviving during such a gruesome time period. by the time wilbur finds himself at the receiving end of charlie's gun, he is already unhinged. wilbur manages to talk charlie into submission carefully, and decides to see if he can form a fragile alliance with charlie for some sort of twisted protection. charlie agrees, as he is so *sick* of being alone. charlie simply insists he is just a silly billy, everybody else thinks hes clinically insane

DOME- dome is a passive settlement founded by wilbur soot to bring in local survivors and give them a small and safe community to rebuild humanity. although this is a large goal in such a hostile and dangerous situation, tommy gives wilbur hope to keep going. who knows, maybe while scouting for survivors, they could stumble across phil or fundy

TED - ted is a serial killer, plain and simple. hired by schlatt to be a bodyguard after the fallout, ted had escaped his cinder block hell to essentially be a guard dog thanks to the nukes. it turns out prisons arent explosion-proof. ted is silent, he doesnt speak much, but he has a clear cut focus on what he wants. when he does speak, he talks clearly and normally. mostly, about his travels with his good buddy 'eddie nine pins', whom he apparently did everything with before getting caught

J. SCHLATT - schlatt is a larger than life business mogul, the ceo of a handful of companies that produce clothes, products, music, etc. hes an incredibly creative and intuitive man who knows how to get what he wants. he is the forefront leader of his settlement in the bunker. schlatt is falsely married to quackity, both of them agreeing to commit marriage fraud when they initially entered the world of entrepreneurship as it looks better and improves both of their charisma in social situations. their 'marriage' is entirely superficial and loveless, purely for aesthetics

A. QUACKITY - you might say quackity is a strange last name, he'd tell you to mind your own business and call you poor in two different languages. quackity runs a small 'medicine' dealing business on the surface. in exchange for fancy goods and food, quackity will give out medicine to needy survivors with no real idea of what any of it does. indirectly, quackity has killed 15+ people with his medication and harmed countless others. he doesnt feel bad, as long as he gets something out of it. he's been spoiled by his previously lavish life and just can't stand to let it all go

TOBY "TUBBO" SCHLATT - tubbo is the adoptive son of schlatt. while schlatt opted to adopt tubbo purely for aesthetics, just as he did with his marriage, he ended up getting somewhat attached to the little guy (and so did quackity). adopted at the age of 13, tubbo was quickly exposed to the inside mechanisms of business, the lying and cheating that goes on behind the retina and he has no interest in becoming a mogul like his father. rather, he opts for weapon studies and collecting a massive arsenal of different types of guns and bombs. tubbo sees the fallout as more of a playground than anything, being able to collect and test as many 'toys' as he wants. tubbo and tommy have crossed paths on several occasions, wherein they both will have a bit of a scuffle until theyre tired, then sit and talk. they consider each other friends, and neither of them know of the conflict between schlatt and wilbur

THE BUNKER - the bunker was once a safe haven for the one percent in england, but only a week into shelter, everybody was slaughtered. quackity and schlatt performed a hostile takeover of the bunker for no greater reason than the fact they wanted more space and more liberties. theyve now claimed the entire bunker as their home, and they want to see how far they can expand their power and control.

if youve made it this far, thx so much for reading it means the WORLD to me.. ill be posting abt this au alongside my other projects like claymore hills and the sanatorium au (which also was a 2021 thing!!)

heres a playlist i made for the rustout au if anybody is as interested in music as i am

thanks sm again, likes and reblogs are both appreciated ^-^ asks are open and heavily encouraged if you wanna know more :DD i know dsmpblr is a little dead but maybe mcytblr might like this, u never know if u dont try so ill take shot in the dark ^-^

note: NONE of these characters should be confused with the CCs. they are loosely based off of real interactions and projects but are entirely FICTIONAL in this universe. i do not support the actions of content creators such as dream, george, sapnap, punz, and many others associated with dream thus they will NOT be in this project. thank you.

[bizlybebo]

master post of master posts for Palestine

welcome to the blog there is actually no escape

vixen/soap/kian

(also not opposed 2 vix and any other nicknames of the sort)

he/it or any ^__^

#1 condifiction propogandist, THE dakota cole understander, toxic yuri enthusiast, assigned setup worse than ethoslab by tumblr, probably a boy but i don't really have time for that, trapped in the jrwi PD hyperfixation

my full legal god given name is vixen kian soap bizlybebo dc lesbianchipbastard. trust

all my mutuals are at the whims of various kitchen appliances. if you're reading this im putting you in the microwave

i’m pretty slow to respond sometimes, just cause i’m often low on spoons socially. pinky promise i’m not trying to be mean<3

AROMANTICISM BLAST 💥 YOUR FAVES ARE ALLOARO 💥🙏

TUMBLR USER CLAVIDY STOP SENDING ME YAOI ❌❌❌

in love with DIVORCED from my evil self @/evilbizlybebo since 5/19/2024 🖤 7/9/2024 💔

flag in the pfp is from tag @/tagiscool, colorpicked from drey ferin ^__^

don't really have a dni but terfs, cc!drm and cc!will gold fans, etc. will be blocked. arguing on the internet is pointless so please just block and scroll.

#vixen rambles- text posts of my prophetic visions

#vixen draws- my art :3 (i sometimes also post animatics on youtube)

#vixen writes- my writing/ao3 stuff :3

#vixen answers- talking to nice people ^__^

#vixens in class- being a full time student does NOT stop the dakota cole grind. usually just means i’ll take a second to respond :3

(other misc: #cshrposting, #dreyposting, #hamartia tag)

(spoilers tags i use: #pd spoilers, #jrwi pd spoilers, #jrwi spoilers, #jrwi riptide spoilers, #jrwi apotheosis spoilers, #jrwilb)

PLEASE dont be shy to reach out,, i love making friends on here <33 don't worry about the fact that i am actively putting you in the dishwasher

other things i like: ZOMBIE STUFF IN GENERAL, human anatomy/medicine, omori, twd video games, CAR SEAT HEADREST, music in general (ask me abt my favorite bands im so normal), casual hermitcraft enjoyer, scu/the council

(that thing im always posting about is hamartia, a tlou-inspired au of pd that takes place 20 years after an outbreak of chaos demons (mark in the place of joel, dakota in the place of ellie). no tlou knowledge needed to understand it, worldbuilding is heavily based off of pd and the plot itself strays pretty far ^_^. i am always happy 2 supply hamartia propoganda)

blinkies/photo collection beneath the cut, flash warning ? (“i love lesbianism” and “i love transgenderism” banners by @/scramratz)

^ video by ashton b codecicle swagaythor !!!!

[elliefever]

ᴇʟʟɪᴇꜰᴇᴠᴇʀ

Hi sillys! This is just an introduction to my page, and a kickstart into posting! Im a fic writer from Ao3, and im moving to tumblr in hopes that itll make it easier for me to keep up with writing!

(introduction below cut!)

ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

My name is Eve, (Im 5'7 if you need a mental image) i'm a pansexual poc writer and im 19 as of july 💙

im a pretty open and reasonable person for the most part, and im not really picky about writing requests so feel free to send as many as youd like! im looking forward to interacting with anyone whos interested in my page 😊

with all the boring stuff about me aside, let's talk about what im planning on writing! (if you have any more personal questions about me, dont be afraid to ask them! ill answer to the best of my abilities.)

The Last Of Us

i am a huge tlou fan so i will for sure be writing about it!

Ellie Williams

I LOVE ellie williams so much omggnfjhfhx. ill be writing dealer!ellie, loser!ellie, college!ellie, modern!ellie, and ANYTHING you guys request me to write for ellie! she is my heart and soul and i absolutely love her!

Abby Anderson

abby is so yummy 🤤 ill be writing fics for her too! im not too educated on the different abby aus to write for but i am totally looking forward to writing your guy's suggestions! (and ellabs 😊💙💙)

Dina

I LOVE HER so much shes the best. shes 100% gonna make an appearance on my page!

The Walking Dead

Maggie Rhee

Maggie is simply too fine not to write for bro. i love her so much.

Rick Grimes

i can agree he is attractive and if im in a silly mood or get a request for him then ill write some...silly stuff

Daryl Dixon

same thing for rick goes for him too!

Also any other twd characters i decide to write for or get requests for!

Sally Face

i absolutely love sally face.

there's really not much to say revolving this fandom but i love sally and larry so much!

Criminal Minds

im a huge crime show lover lol

Spencer Reid

hes so hot i literally dont understand how he can be so fine. i have a lot of ideas for fics about him and i never see anything like the ideas i have so im hoping itll be good to publish those ideas?

im open to writing for other criminal minds characters too but no one gets me all giddy like spencer does 💙

Shameless

im honestly really only interested in writing for fiona x fem reader cuz i never see it, but if you guys have any other ideas for stuff i could write for shameless just lmk! 💙

Jennifer's Body

i LOVE this movie so much, i cant wait to write for jennifer and needy and make my gay heart unbreak for them. but also i was thinking, hear me out. what if i wrote an ellie williams fic but like... jennifers body au? like jennifer and needy but instead, ellie and fem reader? just a thought idk! should i?

THAT'S ABOUT IT! or at least all i can think of as of right now!

Things I will write!

Reader loving rock music and nu metal bands!

Reader playing instruments and being super cool

Reader of any gender!

I'll leave room for imagination but ill also put some ideas of reader's outfits for those who want a mental image

Reader having good music taste and a good sense of style

pet names

bold, aggressive, and dickhead reader

pretty much anything in between

Things I will NOT write!

age play, baby talk, uncomfortably cliche submissive reader

i wont romanticize domestic violence or make light of abusive relationship dynamics 👍

emotional whiplash, i want the scenes i write to blend smoothly

piss kinks and foot stuff (and any other really strange stuff)

smut where the characters are minors

let me know if you guys have any questions or anything at all! i hope to be uploading my first fic soon, which should i do first?

[the-director]

MASH zombie au. I imagine that the zombie outbreak would happen while they're at the fort, training to be shipped off. They have to band together, aided by some military. The deaths would parallel the cast changes. Like colonel Henry Blake, trapper, frank, and radar. The zombies would operate similar to twd (have to be a headshot, once someone dies they turn, they have some muscle/residual memories, they eventually rot to the point of not being able to move and waste away entirely)

The main fighter type characters would be Hawkeye (even though he hates violence it would be a whole character arc), Houlihan (she was taught by her father after all), Klinger (since he is often on guard duty), Colonel Potter (from his experience in ww1 and ww2 though he might have some trouble with stamina due to age)

Meanwhile, Father Mulcahy, Radar and our main jokesters would be trying to lighten the mood.

I think the overall goal would be to try to go around all of America to find their family members? Or to try to find a cure eventually.

[kirbuux]

Hai!! :33

Ash|16|

T1D

Interests:

- DIY

- art

- resident evil

- rush

- (f)art

- bass

- the last of us

- indie horror

- cats

- jhonen vasquez

- trey parker & matt stone

- twd

my favorite bands!!

- tubgirl

- cumshot wound

- super shotgun

- aus-rotten

- rush

- heart

- wednesday 13

- primus

i use procreate !

Insta: @/d3compos3d_bat

AO3: Ashbby2

<3!!

[basicallyjaywalker]

A Non-Comprehensive List of AUs I really wanna do fanfics for in the future (and may do a poll on which ones I should do first)

Whumptober has sparked my love of writing fanfic and taken away literally all of my insecurities with writing fanfic so I need to tell you guys a small bit of the fifty million aus spinning in my brain (most of them are stock standards) (long post)

Zombie Apocalypse

I've got two prompts set in this so far and I killed both of the blorbos off now am I guaranteeing that's canon no am I saying I wanna make em all suffer cuz i've been rewatching StephenPlays's Telltale's TWD playthrough again yes yes i am

2. High School

Self explanantory make em human don't give em powers make em survive high school (and make all of the parents alive and possibly some of them are teachers or local figures

3. Band!!!! BATTLE OF THE BANDS!!!!

Hot and cool and I need Hannah shredding on the guitar for all to see

4. Gods

Mentioned this before but kill the superpowered children make them deities it'll be SO funny

5. Monster Living

Fairy Tale Living but for emos. Based on a submission from @/blursed-ninjago-ideas

6. Ninja Mystery Solvers aka Scooby Doo AU also i can't believe I've been calling it nsm what a fool i've been it's nms

Jay, Cole, Nya, Pixal, and Kai are all the Scooby Gang. Based on What's New, Scooby-Doo? and Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? more than anything else

7. Organized Crime

AMORAL NINJA WITH GUNS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

8. Wrong Ends

Based on @/saline-coelacanth's bad ends AU but with my OCs and I mix and match as I please (not bad ends because some of them aren't evil just screwed up) (jasmine is just a weird hermit)

9. Celebrities

They don't have powers but they are rich and famous. New Americana by Halsey core.

10. Greaser/Surfer/Soc

My absolute favorite silly stock AU, sort everyone into one of the three categories and make em fight. Better is siblings are divided Even BETTER if it's Teen Beach Movie core and insanely goofy. Jay is so soc coded he is such a prep y'all.......

[capitainerowen]

LECTURES DE 2024 : The Walking Dead, tome 1 - Robert Kirkman

Lecture terminée le 30 septembre 2024 (84/85)

Nombre de pages : 144 pages

Rick: Oh, son... Carl: It's not the same as killing the dead ones, daddy. Rick: It never should be, son. It never should be.

Il y a quelques années, en voyage scolaire, j'ai vu la BD The Walking Dead, et j'ai trouvé ça si cool que je me suis acheté les 5 premiers tomes (enfin, 5 des 6, car je n'ai pas le 4), et aujourd'hui, j'ai décidé de relire la saga! J'avais très vite laissé tomber à l'époque, après quelques tomes, parce qu'un détail en particulier dont je parlerai lorsque j'y arriverai m'a dégoûté de ma lecture et que j'ai fini par lâcher.

Résumé : Lors d'une intervention de police, Rick Grimes se fait tirer dessus et tombe dans le coma. Il se réveille plusieurs mois plus tard, au beau milieu d'une apocalypse zombie. Son seul objectif, à présent, est de retrouver sa femme et son fils, et de les protéger de ce monde en décomposition.

CW/TW: morts, cadavres, zombies, meurtres, pensées suicidaires, agression, violences physiques et psychologiques, adultère, police, sexisme banalisé, meurtre d'animal, cadavre d'animal, organes, etc...

Alors!

Déjà, il faut savoir que j'aime beaucoup The Walking Dead :) Mon personnage préféré de la série est Carol, je n'accepterai aucune critique alors ne venez pas m'embêter dessus! s'il vous plaît :') Mais si vous voulez parler de TWD en général, je suis à l'écoute

Quand j'ai appris qu'il y avait une bande-dessinée, j'étais super enthousiaste de la lire, alors je me suis acheté les premiers tomes et j'ai passé un chouette moment! Pour autant, je n'ai jamais fini à l'époque, alors j'ai décidé de redonner sa chance à la BD! Et en VO cette fois, s'il vous plaît!

Ce tome est plutôt simple, honnêtement. L'histoire se déroule peut-être un peu trop vite, mais c'est le premier tome, il ne faut pas que ce soit trop mou pour accrocher le lecteur, je pense.

Si vous avez vu la série, oubliez tout. Les personnages sont très différents de leur adaptation sur petit écran, alors imaginez qu'il s'agit d'une toute autre histoire (limite, il faut voir les deux TWD comme deux univers alternatifs!). Après, si vous avez aimé la série, vous devriez passer un bon moment malgré tout!

Enfin bref, ce premier tome est plutôt sympa, je vous le conseille en ce mois d'Halloween!

[trashmouthkid]

been daydreaming about a simple band au where richie and eddie fall in deep, annoying, aggravating love writing songs together in their shitty band practice loft

[grim333z]

Music girlfriend

No outbreak au} carl x gn!reader

Summary: music boyfriend part 2.

Warnings : none

You spot Carl before he spots you. Nervously tapping his finger on the side of his phone, brushing his fringe out of his eyes every now and again. Once  his eyes find you, a small smile creeps across his lips, only momentarily, you probably wouldn't have even spotted it had you not been looking at them.

"Hey," spills from your lips as you make it to him. He quickly slips his phone away, "So, uhm, I walk home." Carl stumbles over his words, running his tongue over his canine tooth once he's done. He was weirdly awkward, just starting to walk and hoping you'd follow. You did, obviously. But for someone who stands on a stage and performs nearly every other week, he didn't seem all that confident.

"You're really quite awkward." You utter, tilting your head. Carl slows his pace down, head turning to look at you, an almost uncomfortable, hurt, look  on his usually melancholy face. '

"I mean - sorry.. that that came out wrong. like you're just super quiet for the frontman of a band. "

"That's not me on the stage, though... I'm acting when I'm up there. I mean, if I didn't, I might puke out of nerves..."Carl huffs a laugh out. It made sense. He was really quiet when he wasn't on a stage.  "Oh," you say, glancing at him. He's doing that thing again, running his nail across the dry pale skin on his lips. "I just - I mean, that makes sense,"

Carl fiddles with his lip while he figures out a response. He doesn't respond. he just keeps walking. The silence builds for the majority of the walk, just following him. He could be taking you anywhere. "So, Carl, you got any siblings? Like, who's gonna be there. Just so I know, " You say, trying to break the silence.

"Just my little sister, half brother. It don't think they'll get in the way" Carl wraps his hand around his backpack strap. Painted black middle finger running across the dry skin around his thumb nail, he screamed nervous energy, he never seemed nervous when he'd slip from backstage to say hi or to convince the bartender to give you a free drink, saying you're in the band. It might be the lack of preshow energy or that he had something planned, which you brush off trying not to play into your own ideas. You nod in return, the silence falling once again.

"Were here." he says, an awkward smile slips onto his face, it seemed more a nervous smile, like he's unsure if you even actually wanted to be their. Carl, slips his key out of his back pocket, you follow him in, slipping your shoes off at the door, he doesn't greet anyone; but from the kitchen you can hear someone talking like they're speaking to a small child, "c'mere peanut" its a woman's voice and the faint giggle of a small child rings through the air,

"is that your mom? Comes stumbling out, accidentally letting curiosity get the better of you, a weird urge to get to know every little detail of this boy, not just the surface level stuff you knew already. Carl pauses on the stairs turning on his heel, he takes a moment to clock what you're asking, "oh, no that's Michonne, she's my step-mom" theirs a hint of hesitance in his voice, like theres a history behind his sentence, and a small part of you wants to pry for answers, though you don't. Still the urge to pick through every piece of his brain still lingers. You nod in response as he leads you upstairs.

Carl's room is as you'd expect, messy, dark; his interests basically everywhere guitars in stands sit against one wall, a box of hundreds of issues of a variety of comics sit half jutting out from under his bed, a sizeable pile of cups and plates on one side of his desk, a stack of hand drawn band posters on the other, paint and pencils everywhere. It was so, him. 

"Cool comics." ends up leaving your mouth, an accidental attempt to break the silence, your eyes landing on the iconic yellow of the invincible comics, the one on top of the pile. 

"thanks, I hate books..."He huffs a laugh, slumping down on his unmade bed.

A couple hours pass, all awkwardness had disintegrated into nothing, spending all your time giggling over stupid YouTube videos or accidentally being roped into a hide and seek game with Rj and Judith, meeting Carl's step mom, His father ,rick coming home at some point. You're all sat too the table, and its strange feeling so at home with a family you've never really spent time with aside for the odd saying hello to Mr Grimes if he comes to any of Carl's gigs. Rj and Jude are loud, bickering over the better seat. Once dinner is over the two of you head back upstairs, slumping down on the bed.

"can you play anything?" Comes from carl, quiet...

"nope, I'm not as musical as you, Carl."

"want to try?" He stammers on his words, he's weirdly nervous to ask, sitting up resting back on his forearms looking over at your laid back form, his eyes accidentally tracing your outline, he awaits your response with an anxious excitement, like he was desperate to share this part about himself with you, specifically...

"sure, why not." Rushed from your lips , sitting up to match his form, forearms resting on the mattress. What harm could it really do, you'd never even bothered picking up an instrument, maybe this could unlock a new hobby of yours...

You watch as Carl eagerly rushes to grab his lead, plugging in the amp which lets out a constant low hum

"should it be making that noise?" 

"yep, its just the distortion." He responds, you watch him slump down onto his knees to adjust the settings. Carls fingers working with precision to gain the best sound, tinkering with the tone and gain; all words which mean very little to you, fuck, what was a tone?

"c'mere" he ushers you over.

Now stood Infront of him, guitar weighing heavily on your shoulder, a small triangular piece of plastic sits between two of your fingers awkwardly, Your face twists  into one of confusion, looking at the instrument.

"use that, n strum.." he says motioning how to strum, the god awful sound of just open notes ring through the amp as you do as he says, he nods, "now put your fingers up their" he says, which is met with a look of confusion as your hand tentatively rests on the smooth wood of the neck, a sense of nervousness pools in your gut as the fear that you really don't wanna break his instrument lingers, he takes a deep breath. Carl slowly walks behind you, coming up and resting his hand on the fret board, making a shape with his fingers at the top, a simple G chord, but to you it was just some random place to put his fingers. "now strum" he says his voice quiet and close to your ear, when you only strum one jankey chord he reaches around with his other hand, landing on the one holding the pick, guiding you in strumming, It sounded better when he was showing you how to do it.

Though you don't pick up on this as your focus is entirely on his warm, Shakey breath on your neck as he shows you what to do...

[coraxaviary]

War in the Time of Death (I)

NOSFERATU

Summary: I like TWD and it’s spooky season so why not create an AU???

Word Count: 4.3k

Author’s Note: Maybe a series??? I had a lot of fun with this!

Warnings: Zombie gross-ness :)

.

The first time it happened, they were lucky. He came back slowly.

Roe had moved into the back to check on the men who were draped over the tables, walls, and each other – most of them smeared with red, leaving small streaks on the furniture and floors. Thankfully there wasn’t an obscene amount of pained screams or moans – morphine took care of that, and the men who needed severe pain relief were sedated out of their minds, most of them lying still and breathing with labored breaths.

Roe didn’t want to think about the fact that morphine took heart rates dangerously low sometimes – that the empty dreamlike state of hibernation was almost like death, and that was sometimes the point of the opioid anyway. He sighed through his nose, emptying his lungs of blood-scented air, and drawing in another fresh breath of the stuff.

Roe was winding another loosened ribbon of bandages into a tight roll, making his rounds, trying not to reveal just how worried he really was at the state of some of the men. Winters was fine, even though Roe wished he hadn’t elected to stand in that certain place at the exact moment that a sniper got a shot off. He could have been shot somewhere critical.

He didn’t, Roe tells himself as he pads past the now-empty corner that was previously inhabited by Blithe, trying not to think about Tipper, who’d been carted away by now and deposited in the back of a truck or an ambulance or something. Tipper, he’d been almost completely demolished and he was lucky that he–

Roe bites off the thought, fingers tightening around the roll of bandage. It did no good to think about the what-ifs. The men that were safe were safe, and that was all that mattered. The men that were in critical condition –

“Doc?”

Roe swings around abruptly, searching for whoever needed him. “Yeah, what is it?” he calls into the space.

It is Lipton, propped up on the floor in what looked to be a mildly uncomfortable position. His back is against the floor and his neck is bent at a strange angle as he tries to crane his head up from where it has been resting against a drawer. Roe almost winces until he remembers the far worse injury Lipton is actually there for, and he automatically starts to crouch, hands going for Lipton’s uniform.

“Uh, no… Thank you,” says Lipton in a rush, pushing at Roe’s hands awkwardly, away from the fly of his pants. He clears his throat. Roe looks at the blood darkening the area where Lipton has been wounded.

“Ya need a new uniform? I’ll try to see what I can do,” says Roe, already going to stand up and pursue a supply truck. “ ‘Course, there’s–”

“Doc,” Lipton says again from the floor.

“Oh, does it hurt–”

“I think, um…” trails off Lipton. Roe looks at him confusedly. “I dunno. Check on... the guys maybe?” It’s not a response to Roe’s question, but Lipton looks as if he’s at a loss for words, and he just points helplessly down a small hallway.

Roe follows his line of sight. Lipton is pointing at a series of shrouded bodies: ultimate casualties from the day’s fight. The cost of a town? A few acres of stone and glass? Roe doesn’t know if it’s worth it but his job is to deal with non-ideal circumstances so he doesn’t ever comment.

The bodies have been put there because there’s nowhere else to put them. It’s not the best setting for an impromptu morgue but at the moment there is a limited amount of space and the bodies are lined up in the narrow hallway. It’s hardly a respectable send-off, but then again nothing is and they are already dead, so it doesn’t really matter now that their bodies are uninhabited.

Roe tells himself this to remind himself that they aren’t really causing discomfort to the dead men, or tarnishing their memories, despite the sentiment that a final resting place in a hasty grave hardly seems commemorative of their service. He’s getting ready to tell Lipton that, because he seems awfully concerned about the bodies. Roe does not fault him, nor any of the men for being caring for the dead. It is more than they are afforded in life, sometimes.

“Wait, wait. Look,” says Lipton, pointing down the hall again. “You see that?”

“See what?” asks Roe, squinting into the rather dimly illuminated hallway. A cloud passes over the sun, further blocking out the light, and the room is momentarily bathed in passing shadow. The wooden bars in the windows between panes and the spots of grime in the glass grow like projections on the opposite wall after the clouds fade away, sweeping the room like a faded watercolor imitation of the effects of an illumination flare.

“Look.” Lipton is pointing again, and Roe wants to tell him not to strain himself when he sees something moving in his periphery. He turns more fully to face the bodies, not wanting to really ponder their state of death but having to anyway since Lipton seems awfully concerned. It’s not a foreign tone for Lipton, but his loss for words is.

But then the white of the sheet moves again, and Roe tells himself that it’s the wind blowing through the house. He turns around quickly to check that all the windows are, in fact, closed. They are, at least in the relative vicinity. It’s probably the fabric billowing out in the movement of the air.

Just to placate Lipton, who was dealt a blow close to a critical area that day and was probably owed at least this comfort, Roe moves into the hallway where the stink of decay remains at bay. The latest body has been deposited here only thirty minutes ago. And the first one was about four hours prior. They haven’t started smelling yet, and for this Roe is grateful.

He leans over the three shrouded bodies, watching them for a few seconds. Nothing happens, and Roe tells himself he’s getting carried away with old wive’s tales; maybe a substantial dose of Indian mythology.

“What were you saying–” Roe says, turning around to face Lipton, but Lipton is scrambling around to get up, and a feeling of alarm comes over Roe. “Okay, okay, calm down,” he murmurs, walking back out of the hallway, trying to make Lipton relax a little. “You don’t wanna–”

“Look,” Lipton almost yells, pointing. “I swear, I’m not messing with you.”

The rest of the makeshift ward is starting to look in Lipton’s direction, because it’s so uncharacteristic for Lipton to be so riled up about anything. Roe sighs and puts a hand on Lipton’s shoulder, forcing him back down to the floor with as much gentleness that he can put into the touch. “I can move you to a different part of…”

“Hey, Doc,” says someone over Roe’s shoulder. He whips around to find Luz standing behind him as if he just walked into the room, and he’s clutching a box of something, which he sets carefully onto the floor behind him. His eyes aren’t on Roe or Lipton, though: he’s staring down the hallway. Roe watches Luz carefully, trying to understand the strange phenomenon. What are they seeing that he doesn’t?

“What’s going on with Hartley?”

“Hartley?” says Roe. He swallows and thinks of the IV he was struggling to get into Hartley earlier that day. He’d found a vessel and got the needle in right as Hartley drew his last breath. Roe had managed not to drop the glass IV bottle when he handed it off to someone else as he moved to give compressions. Of course, his windpipe was damaged and his jugular had been blown wide open. There wasn’t much of anything Roe could do anyway.

He pushes that all out of mind in favor of refocusing on the present. There was a question being asked. “He, uh… he passed.”

Luz is peering down the hallway, blocking Roe’s view, but Lipton’s eyes grow even larger.

“What?” says Luz, starting to march down the hall. “I dunno who determined that…” he trails off, and Lipton tugs at Roe’s pant leg wildly.

“I told you–”

“Hey, Luz,” Roe says tiredly. “Get out of there. You don’t wanna be checking out–”

“Hartley,” says Luz, voice carrying down the hallway. Roe leans out to check on what, exactly, Luz is doing. Grief causes men to do strange things, but this is almost inappropriate with the death of Hartley being so near. Luz is never explicitly offensive in his mischief, but he’s crossing the line. Just because he deals with loss with humor doesn’t mean the other men will be at peace with it.

Luz is cast in shadow in the hallway, crouched down over the nearest corpse. He’s reaching out to touch it – move the shroud, maybe, and Roe breathes a huff of exhausted disappointment through his nose before following Luz into the hall to gently move him away somewhere less traumatizing. Hartley sustained a gaping neck wound and an even worse compound fracture to his leg and Luz doesn’t need to see that.

“Hey, Luz,” Roe says gently, stopping behind him. “Maybe–”

Roe stops talking. Luz has moved the shroud down to Hartley’s neck, and Roe almost has a heart attack right then and there because Hartley is alive.

“Ohh, boy,” whispers Luz almost reverently in shock, and both he and Roe watch Hartley – pale and bloodless, bled dry from his wound and sallow as death – breathe in what seems like almost silent rattling moans, eyes defocused but moving.

“Hartley,” says Roe once. Hartley doesn’t respond except for a slight opening of his mouth, and Roe nudges Luz out of the way, who moves readily, eyes never leaving Hartley’s miraculously living face. “Hey.”

He does turn his head, very slowly, and he seems to face Roe.

Roe is holding his breath, and he finds it hard to blink. He is at a loss for words, and his hands shake with something like elation mixed with the feeling of failure. It is impossible. Hartley had bled out in front of him; under his hands. Roe still has the remnants of his dried blood packed under his fingernails, and he was under the impression that the small dribbles pumping out his neck in the last moments were the last of life.

“Hartley,” repeats Roe, waving a hand in front of his face. “Luz, gimme a light.” Hartley doesn't respond, but Roe dives into medic mode anyway, tearing the rest of the sheet away and hovering over the gaping, dry neck wound. He can still see the ligaments through the gash, straining as Hartley tenses, and what he thought were emptied, severed blood vessels. An artery so far gone it had shrunk inches-deep into the wound cavity.

Roe takes a risk and prods at Hartley’s neck. There is no dampness, or at least fresh, bright bleeding. The body has been sitting for hours. No blood springs up at his touch, and even more curiously, Hartley does not react. Luz nudges him on the shoulder with a lighter and Roe flicks it on, moving it in front of Hartley’s face.

No reaction. His pupils don’t respond. Roe touches the neck wound again.

“What the hell?” mutters Luz. Hartley gives a small groan, and it makes the exposed bodily wiring in his neck tremble. Roe doesn’t know much about surgical medicine, but he does know this ain’t right.

Against his better judgement, Roe finds Hartley’s wrist and feels for a pulse. Of course he’s alive if he’s conscious, but there’s something wrong with the way he reanimated. The feeling of guilt leaches from Roe as he pokes and prods for a vein, but they’re all out of blood anyway and there is no drumbeat of life beneath the skin, even though the muscles jump for a second. Roe produces a knife and holds it up to Hartley’s mouth, waiting for the vapor of breath to touch the clear silver blade. It remains spotless.

Luz shifts uncomfortably behind Roe, and he wants to tell him to give him space, but Hartley stirs and then inexplicably starts to strain as if to sit up without saying anything and Roe puts down the knife and opens the buttons on Hartley’s blood-stiffened uniform, exposing his chest – which is room-temperature – and putting his ear to the man’s heart. He stays there.

Sometimes heartbeats are hard to miss. Roe keeps listening, as if staying there will produce one if he stays long enough. Luz gasps quietly and a moment later Roe feels Hartley shift.

Roe looks at Luz helplessly. Luz looks back and shrugs with an expression of utter confusion.

“No pulse?”

“Nah,” says Roe. “Maybe…” he trails off, grasping at explanations. “Rigor mortis, just a weird–”

“Doc,” Luz then says suddenly, pulling him back by the uniform towards the entrance of the hall, as if there is something to fear. Hartley has sat up. He opens his mouth and closes it again with a snap of teeth louder than any bite Roe has ever heard. Roe feels something wrong in his bones, but the guilt comes back and he stares at Hartley instead of administering medical care, as he should, because he failed to save this man. Roe knew for sure when his heart stopped and the blood stopped draining because there was none.

“He’s dead,” murmurs Roe to himself, standing with Luz at the junction of the hall and the room. “He’s medically dead.”

“Yeah, no shit,” says Luz, watching Hartley shakily stand in a unique spindly way, and the rest of the sheet falls away to reveal the truly crippling injury he’d also sustained to his leg.

Hartley should not be walking. There is bone exposed, and it’s jutting out of the skin. Luz makes a disgusted and terrified noise, and Roe watches Hartley stagger to life with growing horror.

“You seeing this?” says Roe quietly. When Luz doesn’t answer, he takes a fistful of Luz’s uniform and gives him a good shake. “You seeing this?” he repeats.

Luz nods numbly. Hartley moans.

“Guys?” says Lipton from the makeshift ward. “Everything alright?”

“Dunno,” yells Roe back with uncertainty, because it’s really the only thing he can say as he watches Hartley lurch about. When his fibula bone in his calf starts to rip through more skin as the bone crumples further with added weight, Roe shakes himself out of the shocked stupor and forces himself to go to Hartley – who is acting like those deer, the ones with parasites in their brains, and Roe can’t stop thinking about them – and he takes ahold of the front of his shirt.

“Easy, Hart,” mutters Roe. “Gonna make your leg worse.”

Hartley lunges forwards with all his bodily weight and Roe can hear the snap of teeth.

Luz rushes forwards and tears Hartley off Roe, and Roe watches with horror as Hartley turns to try and take a bite out of Luz. His teeth clack and his eyes are unfocused.

“Hartley,” Roe says, trying to wrestle him off Luz this time. “Stop. We’re trying to help–” He feels teeth fixing around a fold of his uniform, and there is a small pinch. “Hartley, stop.” Roe is almost yelling now.

Hartley thrashes. Luz loses control and so does Roe, and Roe hits the ground on his back with Hartley, white as a sheet, climbing on top, yellowed teeth snapping, jaw working wildly, and Roe smells the cold flood of air from inside Hartley’s gullet, and it smells of death and decay. Roe lets out a yell of alarm, and he can hear Luz calling for assistance and Lipton asking what is going on, and Roe gets an arm against Hartley’s neck, and he’s simultaneously apologizing for pressing on the wound and trying to reel back in terror.

Hartley is lifted off him, but he swings around and sinks his teeth into whoever got behind Luz, and it’s chaos now – men shouting in the small echoey hallway, grappling for control of the deranged corpse-man and Lux tugs Roe up by the shirt as some of the other men manage to pin Hartley down. Someone is sitting on his chest, and Roe almost protests that you can’t do that to a morally wounded patient but he realizes the irony and falls silent in a stunned pause.

There is still the sound of teeth snapping, and terrible deathlike moans coming from Hartley’s throat.

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” says Roe at last, watching what used to be Hartley convulse against the men holding him down. “I saw him die.” He swallows hard. “I watched him die.”

“I know,” says Luz. “You probably did.”

“Then…” says Roe, feeling useless and at a loss, just watching Hartley. “Then what–”

“You don’t know,” says Luz, rubbing Roe’s shoulder briefly. “And that’s okay, ‘cause this ain’t… natural.”

“I watched him die,” says Roe to himself in a whisper, and Hartley still snaps his teeth. Roe watches him bite his tongue so hard it almost amputates at the root with a single snap, and then the tongue is gone in a few more moments, slipping down his own throat. The ligaments in his exposed esophagus move. He’s swallowing, Roe realizes.

There is a chorus of disgusted, horrified groans. Someone gags.

“I’m gonna throw up,” says Luz. Roe nudges him towards the outer rooms, still watching Hartley. The parasite-infected deer still sticks in his mind as he sees Hartley’s body move, but there is no life behind his eyes. Whoever is at the wheel is not Hartley, Roe decides. If it’s even biology, he doesn’t know.

+

After a while, Hartley begins to try and eat the other men in earnest, like that one man who got bit. He’s lunging and snapping and growling with increased ferocity, resembling a starving, bony wolf more at this point than a person. But wolves at least are kind of beautiful, in a feral way, Roe thinks. Hartley is… a revenant or something. It’s more than uncanny – most of the men do not believe what Roe tells them when they address the pulse question.

“Nosferatu,” says Welsh, watching Hartley snap and bite and shuffle about with an inhuman gait. The men decided to put him in a pit that a German artillery piece made a few hours ago since he doesn’t seem to be in full control of his fine motor skills. Or his coordinated faculties, for that matter.

“What?” Roe says. He’s fiddling with some rations but he decides he can’t really eat while watching Hartley’s body contort in that sick tortured-looking manner, alive but not really alive.

“You know, the vampire,” says Welsh. “Remember that film?”

Roe pauses, thinks. Looks down into the pit, and Hartley is clawing at the edge, trying to get at him and Welsh. Roe kicks his legs up from where they dangle dangerously near to Hartley’s clawing grasp.

“No, I didn’t really see motion pictures,” says Roe. The theater was kind of a luxury, other than the times that the neighborhood kids would sneak into the back row and watch until the owner always came to root out the brats who hadn’t paid. “Vampire, you think?”

Welsh shrugs. “What else could it be?”

Roe peers down into the hole. Hartley is growling and gargling something awful, and a gush of blood comes back up his throat, trickling out of the throat wound and sputtering out of his mouth. It’s not fresh blood. It’s dark, almost black, and thick and congealed. Another sign of death and immobility, and Roe struggles to define a line that marks Hartley as alive or not. Vampires were lucid, weren’t they?

Besides, vampires didn’t exist anyway. Maybe wendigos. Was he a wendigo? Roe hadn’t revisited those old mythological teachings in a long time. He’d eliminated the possibility of demon possession a while ago when Hartley’s body had no special reaction to the chaplain, quietly crossing the possibility off his list and internally embarrassed that he’d even considered such a thing.

“Do you think he’s suffering?” Roe asks.

Welsh sighs. “Hard to tell. What can we even do about it if he is?”

Roe looks down the hole again. Hartley’s fibula has separated so far from the rest of his leg that it’s jutting out almost at a right angle, and the gaping gash in his calf keeps growing with every step the man takes. It’s hard to watch, but simultaneously eerily different from watching a normal living man suffer to death.

“Doc,” comes a panicked yell from paces away. Roe shoves the ration back into his pocket, and tells himself that uncertainty and confusion are not things he can feel right now. He’s thankful for the distraction from Hartley so he can think about something other than a torturous forced limbo between life and death – maybe even a state of living brought on by the rarest of circumstances that has manifested in this man. A new medical discovery. Maybe Hartley can be saved, just like how Roe can sometimes bargain with death successfully. Maybe he’s just another deal that Roe has to make.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Roe hollers, and he sees Hartley react to the voice as if he’s blind and being led by sounds. Roe knows it isn’t true – his eyes don’t focus but he seems to use them anyway – and he jogs over to wherever someone has been injured.

“Doc,” says Liebgott. He’s at a loss, and he tries to get words out before just clutching at his head and then stuttering incoherently. “He– it–”

Roe feels an indescribable dread descending on him all over again from the sky. “What is it?” he says, fearing what the men will say. Talbert skids around a corner, too, and leans against the wall to catch his breath. “You– I– uh, Shifty and I, we were–”

“Calm down, Sergeant,” says Roe, partially to quell the flow of words. He does not want to hear what Talbert has to say with that wide-eyed look of chaotic helpless fear on his face – a look Roe, nor probably anyone in the entire company, has seen on Talbert.

“There’s…” he starts, then cuts himself off. He grabs Roe’s arm and pulls, hard. “You gotta see it.”

+

It’s almost an entire company’s worth, Roe realizes with an immobilizing, disbelieving amount of pure terror. The stink of dead bodies carries on the wind, and he wants to throw up his rations over the side of the rooftop. All across the field, there are Americans and Germans alike in various states of decomposition. All are inexplicably mobile. And they are all coming towards Carentan.

They must be the remnants of the first time the Germans took Carentan from the company that was here before. Both sides just left their dead lying in the field, apparently, if they were still around.

Roe does not know what they want, or if they can even think to want anything. All he knows is that Hartley bit out his own tongue without so much of a reaction, and he’d wanted to bite any of the others around him.

A circle of ravens wheels overhead, lazily, as if awaiting the results of what seems to be a horde of revenants descending on a town full of American paratroopers. Roe realizes, with horror, that one bird is perched on the shoulder of a German rifleman, picking with its beak at the man’s ear and pulling stringy bits of dead matter off his skull. White bone shows through on many of the men. Many are missing limbs. Intestines are dangling darkly from the ruptured abdomen of an American paratrooper, and they knock against his knee with every step.

“What do we do?” says Liebgott, who breaks the silence when no one else had the courage to.

The men-things are slow, but they are going to reach the town quickly at their undeterred pace. What they will do when they get there is a mystery.

“I don’t know,” says Roe when the others turn to him, as if he has answers.

He’s only a battlefield medic. He has no idea.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

.

[gingerredrat-blog]

Hey. I’m Christina!

I’m here to write stories! But I need y’all to give me ideas on what to write! I’m willing to do many writings, just give me a character from a fandom I know. I’ll leave a list down below as well as what I’ll do.

———————-

Y/N

X Oc

Character x Character

————————

Any character as long as I know who they are.

[ohpleaselarry]

The WIP title game

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

I was tagged by @brightgolden thank you! I have a LOT of wips and I usually don’t title them until they’re finished, so the file names might not make sense to anyone but me, but here we go!

In order of most recently worked on to oldest:

L&H: a-z

PROMPTS

lesbian outlaws hehe

Nature?

werewolf x vampire fic

the crack fic

a-z jump - twins??

WEREWOLF

ZOMBIE

VAMPIRE

D:BH au

airport dream

Jupiter sequel

insp by twittering birds never fly kinda

josh&hazel au

healing au

the sitter

Infertile alpha a/b/o

110 - the longing to please everybody

Blind omega a/b/o

vampire but GIRLS

Jupiter rewrite

boy4sale prequel

L is a fanfic writer - dark matter

au: right person, wrong time

THE LONG ONE - tlou

no dating within the band au

twd au

daddy kink sequel

assassin au

17/09/2011 - 10PM

SOUL sequel

All of these have various amounts of writing done on them, so I could probably work up a snippet for any of them, haha. This list would probably be loads longer if I’d done this last year, but I compiled all of my prompts into one file a few months ago (I’m sure you can guess which one) and I only make a new file if I begin to write on it. So much cleaner that way, honestly.

I’m tagging: @cyantific @pocketsunshineharry @chloehl10 @evilovesyou @louloubabys1992 @thelesserneptune @greenblueish @thinlinez

[fanficimagery]

a field of daisies

Imagine running into a group of survivors that you decide to take a chance on and bring them home with you. Your decision ends up leading to a reunion no one saw coming, not even yourself.

Words: 7.1K Author's Note: TWD AU. This particular universe has a lot of characters and making sure everyone has a line or three is tough work, so I made up my mind to only keep a select few. This will take place after the prison has fallen, but before Terminus so the group is not as harsh because of what happened there. I get why everyone turned ruthless, but damn.. Rick got scary. Haha. Also, just so you know, Y/N is a powered individual (the gif of Wanda is just to show how your powers look/work). SPOILER ALERT! This piece of work is.. slow. There's nothing much to it- it's honestly just Y/N bringing the group into the fold. I've been having a rough few weeks and it really shows in my writing. I'm sorry this sucks, but I really needed to get something out.

It was pure dumb luck that Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Glenn, Maggie and Carol ended up together after the fall of the prison. Rick and Carl had fled together, Michonne followed the blood trail Rick had unknowingly left behind, and Daryl had later caught up to them because he was with a new group that was hunting Rick which he didn't know about until it was too late. Daryl, Rick and Michonne took care of things quickly, and it was a relief to Rick that Daryl still had his back.

Glenn and Maggie came a couple days later with Judith snuggled into a makeshift pack hanging off of Glenn's back, and the group stumbled upon Carol who kept them from entering the so-called sanctuary called Terminus. Apparently she had been keeping an eye on the place from afar, and after the horrors she witnessed Rick and the others were glad they just so happened to choose the entrance she was near so that she was able to stop them.

Hershel's death still weighed heavily on everyone's mind and Maggie was sad that she didn't know what had become of her sister Beth. Lots of people's fates were unknown, but the ones that left everyone the most downtrodden were those of the children that the prison had housed.

The group has taken momentary refuge in a barn, their spirits low and dwindling even more as the days pass. Food and water were scarce, and ammunition was pretty much nonexistent. Daryl had a handful of arrows left and everyone was left to depend on blades to protect themselves.

Judith's sudden cry pierces the quiet of the barn and everyone flinches. Rick readily gets to his feet, rushing towards his daughter and lifting her from the bed of hay they designated as her bed. "Shh. I got 'ya. I got 'ya, sweetheart."

Carl joins his father, frowning at his sister's reddening face. "She's hungry, isn't she?"

"We all are," Rick grumbles.

"There's got to be something out there," the young boy sighs. "A place we haven't come across or a house that's not been picked clean."

"Everyone's tired, Carl. We're all running on fumes." Rick continues to rock his baby girl, heart breaking when her wails only get louder and more desperate. "If we go searchin', we're likely to make a mistake and someone will lose their life."

"Well we can't let her starve."

Rick glances around his exhausted group, a look of determination in each of their features. He sighs and glances down at Judith in his arms. "Tomorrow. We'll go lookin' when the sun is up."

Carl nods and brushes his finger along Judith's brow before leaving his father to settle the baby down on his own.

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You'd been gone for a day and half now, intent on finding some things those in your community have asked for. Unfortunately everything close by had been picked clean which led you to driving further and further out, and right into an oncoming storm.

You tried to drive right on through it, but the rain just came down so hard to the point that you could not see through the windshield. And since it was nighttime, you knew there was a high chance you could wreck. So you pull off to the side, cut the engine and lean back in your seat to wait it out.

Thunder rumbles so loud it actually shakes the truck you're in and lightning strikes a tree not even a hundred yards away. "Oh screw this," you mumble to yourself. You turn the truck back on, carefully inching your way down the road and hope that you don't hit anything. But then lightning strikes again, you swerve on instinct, but are quick to slam on the breaks. "Shit."

There's a split second of reprieve from the rain- just long enough for you to see a building off in the distance. You know it's a dumb idea to even check it out, but you rather be in a barn struck by lightning than be in the truck. So after cutting the engine once more, you reach over to the passenger seat for your pack and beanie. Shoving the gray beanie down atop your head, you brace yourself before opening the door and hopping out.

Slamming the door behind you, you rush through the rain and towards the barn doors. Pushing on said doors, they open far too easily and you rush to close them behind you. Then with your back against the doors, you hold your hands aloft at your sides should you need to protect yourself from a dead skull or three. But surprisingly there are no dead in the barn, instead a group of the living around a small fire stare at you with wide eyes.

Immediately the people are on their feet with their weapons trained on you, a baby is passed off to a preteen, and the group of adults slowly advance on you.

"Whoa," you utter. "I did not know this place was occupied. I don't mean any harm. M'just tryin' to get out of the storm."

"Are you alone?" The man that had passed off the baby asks, a long barreled gun pointed at you.

His companions spread out- a guy with a crossbow hurrying to the wall to peek through the cracks. There's a Korean guy and a woman with hair just barely touching her shoulders standing side by side, blades in hand, and a black woman with a wicked looking katana held at the ready. The last woman with shortly cropped gray hair points a glock right at you without even blinking.

"Um, yeah."

"You don't sound so sure," he grunts.

"Well you're all pointing weapons at me," you say. "It's a little intimidating."

Crossbow guy returns to his friend's side, shaking his head and muttering something too low for your ears to catch. The main guy talking nods meeting your gaze once more. "Weapons?"

"None."

"Mind if we check?"

You shrug. "Have at it."

Spreading your arms out wider, you push off the barn doors and stand with your feet a little spread out as well. The woman standing next to the Korean guy steps forward and cautiously makes her way towards you. You meet her gaze, keeping your expression neutral, but give her a nod to let her know you were good with what was going on. Her hands land on your waist then, patting you down and checking for weapons.

Her hands slide up your sides and under your arms, and you press your lips tighter together when she hits your ticklish spot. A giggle ends up breaking free and you immediately apologize when she freezes. You think you see her faintly grin before she continues on down your legs and around your ankles.

"She's clean," the woman says as she stands back up and then steps back.

"What's in the bag?"

"My snacks," you muse. "I was looking for a few things and had to travel out further than normal. I've been driving for nearly two days now."

"You got a group?"

"I have a community." They seem to blink in surprise at that.

Crossbow guy looks at who you assume is their leader. "Explains the too clean clothes," he grunts. Then looking at you, he says, "But 'ya damn stupid to be out here with no weapons. It's a goddamn miracle 'ya survived this long."

"Mister, I am the weapon." That seems to make the tense all over again, frowning, and you sigh. "Look, I'm not normal. I don't need weapons because I am literally the ultimate weapon. Now if that makes you uncomfortable, I'll stay my butt over here and just wait out the storm. Then I'll be on my way and we never have to see each other again unless we run into each other in the future. That sound good?"

No one voices a complaint against you so you walk over to one of the wooden beams supporting the barn and take a seat on the ground. You get comfortable, stripping your pack off your back and setting it next to you. The group has no idea what to make of you so they continue to stare at you until the baby in the preteen's arms starts to fuss.

Minutes pass as the baby continues to wail, her cries only getting louder. The thunder doesn't seem as loud as before, so you know if there are any dead nearby they'll be drawn towards the barn because of the baby's cries.

"When was the last time she ate?" You ask when you see them shush and rock her in order to calm her. A few of them glance at you and it's then you actually take in their appearances. They're exhausted. They're hungry. They're desperate. "Actually when was the last time any of you ate?"

Crossbow guy grumbles, but it's the preteen boy who answers. "Days. A week or so maybe."

Frowning, you pull your pack into your lap and open it up. Rummaging around the inside, your hand wraps around a small mason jar with a spoon rubber banded around it and you grin triumphantly. "I, uh, I have this if you want it," you say as you hold the jar up. "Mrs. Stevens makes a mean cinnamon applesauce." Your grin slowly falls as you take in their stares. "Or not. I won't be offended."

"No." The gray haired woman steps forward. "We'll take it, but you need to eat a spoonful yourself first."

"Uh, yeah. Sure, but I don't know why.." Your brow furrows as you free the spoon from the rubber band and untwist the top, and then it hits you on why they want you to eat it first. You gasp as you stare up at them. "First off, rude! Do I really look like I'm capable of poisoning a baby?"

No one says a word at first and then, "Well you did say 'ya were different."

You roll your eyes at the crossbow wielding guy. "Not that kind of different." Sticking the spoon into the applesauce, you pull up a spoonful and shove it into your mouth. Swallowing, you place the spoon back in the jar and hold it up. "Happy? It's just cinnamon applesauce."

The leader rushes forward and grabs the applesauce from you, sniffing it as he walks back towards his group and taking a spoonful for himself. When he deems it okay, he then feeds it to the baby girl. Almost immediately, her cries turn to whimpers before ceasing all together.

"You guys are welcome to whatever's in my pack because, no offense, but you look like you need it more than I do."

The Korean guy is the first to crack, rushing towards your pack that you let him freely rummage through. "Is this- is this jerky?"

"Yep. Mr. Mills has a knack for drying out meat and smoking fish."

As he passes out the jerky, water, and a few MRE's, he then looks at you with an astonished expression. "I'm Glenn, by the way. And this is Maggie." The woman who had patted you down gives you a terse smile.

"Michonne," the katana wielding badass says.

"Carol."

The man feeding the baby glances at you. "I'm Rick. These are my kids Carl and Judith."

You look towards the crossbow guy, but he's shoveling an MRE into his mouth and not paying you a lick of attention. "Y/N," you then introduce yourself to them.

You watch them eat for a few seconds before you avert your attention, listening to the sounds outside the barn. The storm seems like it's finally dying down, but the moans and groans of the dead seem to be getting closer and closer now. You get up and walk towards the door, peeking through the cracks and quietly exhaling at the small herd heading straight for the barn.

"You guys have something to prop against the door? We've got incoming."

A scoff comes from crossbow guy. "Thought 'ya were the ultimate weapon?"

"Daryl!" Carol admonishes.

Your eyes narrow at Daryl who shrugs under the stares of his group and you sigh. "Fine. Whatever. All I ask is that whatever you see, you ask questions before you decide to attack."

"Why- why would you say that?" Glenn asks.

"Because like I said, I'm not normal."

With that you turn around, opening the barn doors and stepping back. Staring at the small herd that's coming in, your left arm lifts up and curls around the front of your face as your right arm lifts up underneath. The only difference is that your left hand starts to glow and you swing back briefly before thrusting your left arm out and sending off a red wave of energy that rushes through the heads of the dead ones and instantly drops them in their tracks. You walk forward then and shut the doors, only to turn around and have Daryl aiming his crossbow at you.

"Seriously?" Your arms hang limp at your sides.

"What the hell are 'ya?"

"Human, as far as I know," you say. You mentally sigh as everyone shifts nervously. "Just with a little extra oomph."

"That was some sci-fi bullshit 'ya just pulled there."

"Well whatever it is, it's come in handy since the world fell apart so I'm not complaining about it anymore."

Rick, having passed Judith off to Carl, steps forward. "This community of yours, are there any more people like you?"

You shake your head. "Nah. I'm the only one."

"How many people are you with?" Carol asks.

"Around twenty or so. Me and this little girl I came across a while back are the youngest. Everyone else is sixty-five or above." You huff. "Kid guilt tripped me into saving a few individuals from a retirement home we came across and gave me the idea of a place safe enough to almost be normal."

"Exactly how safe is this place of yours?" Maggie then wonders as she glances at Judith and Carl.

"There's a, uh, shield of sorts around this abandoned housing community. The dead bounce off the invisible walls and the living need permission to enter which I'm smart enough not to give."

"People try gettin' in before?" Daryl asks.

"A group of three about a couple months back. I would have given thought to letting them in, but my powers kind of misfired and I was able to read their minds," you sheepishly admit. "They- they were not good people. Not by a long shot."

"What happened to 'em?"

"I put them to sleep and had a talk with everyone inside the community." You shrug. "I didn't know what to do, so I asked for everyone's advice. It was either kill them or manipulate their memories and send them on their way."

"What did you do?" Carl asks. He's the only one who has a look of awe on his face.

"I kept them asleep and drove them out in a random direction. After about two days driving, I put them up in an abandoned house and let them wake up long after I had left."

"Why are you answering all our questions?" Michonne asks. "Someone like you, it seems like you'd keep your powers a secret."

"Honestly? You're the first kind group I've seen in a long while. You saw what I could do and yet you asked questions first rather than letting Daryl put an arrow in me."

"Would my arrow have even reached 'ya?"

You smile at Daryl's grumpy expression. "Not even close." There's a challenge in his eyes and his arm twitches, but Rick shakes his head at his friend. You quietly chuckle. "If you guys wanna sit and talk, I'll answer what I can. I don't mind so long as you don't plan on attempting to put a bullet in my brain or a blade to my neck."

Everyone looks to Rick and eventually he gives a terse nod. They hesitantly go back to their fire, huddling closer together and you slowly make you way over to sit across from them. The baby seems rather content now so Rick finally takes a moment to eat something himself.

Bending your knees, you pull them in towards your chest and drop your chin on your knee. "So what do you wanna know?"

Glenn immediately leans forward. "First of all, this is something straight out of a comic book." He grins and you can't help but smile in return. Maggie snorts and shakes her head, rather fondly, at him. "So what I wanna know is if you were born like this or if you had a bad visit with the doctors?"

"I was born like this," you say. "I think it started manifesting when I was about eleven or twelve. Mom and dad were obviously terrified, but I was still their daughter and they refused to just let the government have me. It took- it took months of research before they found a legit scientist who was running tests on people like me in order to help. So they met up with him and let him poke and prod to get the answers everyone was seeking."

"Did they find anything out?" Carol asks.

You shake your head. "No. There were no abnormalities in my or my parent's blood, and every other test was coming back completely average. My powers or magic or whatever you wanna call it honestly scared me, so the scientist had concocted some pills that suppressed it. I never got to learn how to control it and only really got to see what I was capable of when the world collapsed and I ran out of suppressors."

"So what, you're just this powerhouse walking around without a care in the world?" Michonne frowns.

"I have many cares," you say, head lifting to stare directly at the woman over the fire. "I have a little girl and a handful of old geezers counting on me back home. I'm just fortunate enough to be this powerhouse, as you say, so the others don't have to come out into this shit show that has become our norm."

Judith starts to fuss again and neither her brother or father can calm her. You can see just how exhausted everyone is, so you take the initiative to help them out when you see Rick cringe after smelling the baby's bottom. Grabbing your pack, you grab the notebook in there and yank out a sheet of paper. Then letting the paper rest in the palms of your hands, you concentrate on the red wisps of energy pooling in your hands and transfigure the sheet of paper into a diaper. More sheets of paper are ripped out and you quickly transfigure those into small rags.

"There's a bucket in the back of my truck," you say as you hold out the diaper and rags. "I'm sure it's full of water by now so you can dip the rags into the water to wipe the baby down."

Rick blinks at you in surprise, walking over to you and grabbing the items. He nods. "Thank you." You flash him a faint smile in return.

He looks at Daryl and he hands over his crossbow to Carol. Taking the rags from Rick, he motions for Glenn to follow him should he run into any trouble outside.

The two men return soon enough and Rick readily starts to make his daughter comfortable once more. As she struggles against him and wildly kicks out, you chuckle and decide to let a small orb of red energy pool in your palm. Then flicking your wrist, the small red orb shoots over to hover above Judith and bob up and down. It does it's job, distracting her so her father can easily change her.

"That must come in handy back at your community," Maggie muses.

"I don't really show off like this in front of them," you sheepishly admit. "Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but they don't really ask me to do anything other than to help keep them safe and keep their houses from deteriorating." There are hums and grunts, but everyone is more interested in filling their stomachs. "Well if I'm going to be on my way come sun up, I should get some rest."

No one objects, so you get up and walk back over to the opposite side of the barn. You sit down in a corner, trying to find a comfortable enough position so you can get a bit of shut eye.

When you wake up, the sun has not fully risen yet. It's a little lighter in the barn and you can see without the small fire throwing off light, so it's easy to spot Rick keeping watch by the barn doors. You sit up, stretch, and sleepily climb to feet in order to join him.

"You guys rotated watch?" You mumble. "You should have woken me."

Rick grins. "Nah. We had it under control."

"If you say so."

His grin subtly falters and then he quietly clears his throat before glancing between you and his group. "So before you go on your way, can I have a word?"

"Sure." You yawn. "Lets just go outside so we don't wake anyone." At Rick's nod, you open the barn doors and exit as quietly as you can. He follows you outside and you glance around for any dead before crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face Rick. "What's going on?"

He stares at you, clearly trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts. It takes him a moment to gather himself and then finally he says, "I know we just met each other last night, but is there any chance- any chance you might be willin' to give us a chance? I'm supposed to be this group's leader, but I am runnin' on fumes here. We all are. We're desperate." Your heart goes out to him and you can't help but frown. You understand desperation very well and you figure it must be worse on him because of the two young children he has. "This world, as vulnerable as it is, it's not a place I want to raise my kids."

"Rick, I-" You pause, sigh and then start over. "Of course I'd be willing to give you guys a chance."

"But?" He pushes, seeing the flash of hesitance in your expression.

"No, no buts." You shake your head. "You just- if you guys want to be a part of this community, you have to actually want to be a part of the community. No drama or violence is permitted within the walls. My sole focus is making sure these people live as long as possible and I won't have anyone jeopardizing that."

Rick nods. "We're all for playing fair. All we're askin' for is a chance. A real chance at survivin'."

"Well then I guess today's your lucky day." You hold out a hand for him to shake. He holds your gaze before glancing down at your hand and hesitantly reaching forward to grasp it. "So do you want to tell them the good news or..?"

Rick huffs a laugh of disbelief as he retakes his hand. "Are- are 'ya serious?"

"Yeah. Why not." You shrug. "The community could use a good shake up, so come on. Lets go wake your people up."

You and Rick re-enter the barn, but you let him wake his family and friends on his own. You gather your pack, tossing the trash and rearranging what's left. Rick tells them the good news and you smile when you see them sag in relief. They have no belongings whatsoever, so they pick up what weapons they have and make to exit the barn.

"Um, Carl and one other person can sit up front with me. Three others can squeeze into the backseat with Judith and two can ride in the very back." There are nods of agreement all around before Daryl and Glenn climb into the bed of the truck. Meeting Daryl's gaze, you say, "You and Glenn keep watch. If you see anyone, pound on the roof. I don't want anyone following us."

He gives you a terse nod. "Got it."

"Or if you and Glenn want to switch out with someone from the inside, pound on the roof. I'm gonna drive as long as I can, but if anyone wants to stop during the night we will."

Everyone seems to agree, letting you decide whether or not you drive through the night. You'll make that decision when the time comes, so as everyone else climbs into the cab of the truck you open the driver's side door and get behind the wheel. You bite back a smirk as you grip the steering wheel in hand, red wisps of energy wrapping around the wheel before disappearing into the guts under the hood.

"So that's why we didn't hear the rumble of an engine," Rick muses. "It's runnin' on magic."

"Beats having to find and siphon gas," you say. Everyone chuckles and after making sure Daryl and Glenn are steady, you drive off.

Not even five seconds in and you hear, "What the hell kind of truck is this?"

Daryl's gruff question makes everyone inside the cab laugh, but no one bothers to fill him in.

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You drive well into the afternoon, only stopping when Glenn and Daryl grow too hot under the sun and switch out with Rick and Michonne. The bit of food you had left in your pack was divided up among the others again and then when the sun set you had stopped to instruct those in the bed of the truck that they could sit or lay down since they wouldn't be able to see anything come nightfall anyway.

Your constant yawning had Maggie concerned, but you assured her you'd done a drive like this numerous times. All you asked was that they talk to you, so to keep things light they told you all about their accomplishments since the world had ended. Carl mentioned being reunited with his dad after being told he was dead, Maggie mentioned finding love with Glenn on her father's farm, and Daryl mentioned finding a prison that they stayed in after clearing it out as much as they could.

You didn't bother asking what had happened to the farm or the prison because you knew full well what happened to places left out in the open. Sooner or later they got taken over, whether it be by the dead or living. So when they ran out of happy tales, you filled them in on your own. You told them all about coming across the retirement home- about how you and Daisy (the young girl you had saved) were allowed to stay with them for a bit while you went out everyday to find a more suitable living situation. You had still been experimenting with your powers, so it was a miracle you managed to fix up an entire housing community and erect walls around it.

Only about half of those in the retirement home chose to go with you and Daisy, and that was even after finding out what you were capable of. The others were grateful for the invite, but they had families they wanted to look for or were too old and didn't want to be a burden on anyone. No amount of pleading from Daisy could sway their decisions.

A new day dawns and the environment around you starts to become familiar. You perk up in your seat and drive just a little faster because after being out for so long all you want is your bed and a shower.

Only you can see the entrance to the community and you know the others can only see what everyone else without permission to enter sees- a run down housing community that was way passed being livable. So stopping right before the barrier, you gesture for everyone to get off with you after letting the truck cut off.

"What's going on?" Rick asks as he hops out of the bed. Michonne follows him.

Facing the group, you grin. "The community is just behind me," you say while gesturing over your shoulder. You see them glance behind you, frowns marring their faces. "You're just seeing what I want everyone who passes by to see- a place not worth investigating. So with your consent," you hold a hand out just at shoulder height, letting a red glow envelop it, "I just need to push a little energy through you so you can see what I see."

Everyone is caught off guard and wary now, but surprisingly it's Carl who says something. "Will it hurt?"

You glance down at him and smile. "Not at all. I promise. Everyone inside has admitted to it feeling like a cold chill running through them and then nothing. Absolutely no pain."

As you guessed, everyone looks to Rick. He takes a moment to think about it before saying, "Do it. But if there's any pain at all-"

"There's not."

"Good." He nods. "So what do we do?"

"Just stand there. I'm the one who has to do all the work." Letting your arms hang down by your sides, you shake yourself out before concentrating on letting your power pool into your hands once more. Then when it feels like you have enough energy to pass through all eight individuals, you face your palms towards them and push out. The energy leaves you and passes through them, and only a couple of them stumble back a step or gasp in surprise. When they finally take notice of what's actually behind you and their jaws drop, you chuckle. "Welcome to your new home."

"How- it looks untouched." Carol mumbles in awe.

"Well it wasn't," you say. "It took me a few days to fix up several blocks of houses. Then about a week to get the solar panels set in with the help of our retired electrician. We were just lucky a water tower was placed close by and the new water lines were set in before the world ended. It's easy to keep the tower operational and our houses supplied with running water."

"This is insane," Glenn mutters in awe. Maggie nods along with his assessment.

"When you reach the barrier, you're going to feel a little resistance. That's normal." you then explain to them. "All you have to do is keep walking through and you'll come out on the other side."

"And if we wanna leave?" Daryl asks. Everyone looks at him as if he's crazy for already thinking about leaving, but he merely huffs and explains further. "To hunt or make runs, not find shelter elsewhere."

You shrug. "Then you leave. You'll feel the resistance again, but that's just so you remember where the barrier is. Now that you've been given permission, you can come and go as you please. But please remember, once you're behind the barrier, anyone who hasn't been given permission to enter will just see you vanish into thin air. So make sure you're never followed or if you are make a beeline for the barrier and come get me. I'll get them outta here." Everyone seems to be in agreement and you smile. "Well come on. Let's go find you a house or two."

Turning around, you readily walk towards the neighborhood. The resistance of entering doesn't faze you as it once did, so you hurriedly turn around to see everyone's reactions. You see when they hesitate and you laugh as they continue on through and seem to all breathe a sigh of relief. Then once they have their wits about them, you gesture for them to follow you.

A few people are sitting out on their porches, some surprised and others (looking at you Gladys) are ecstatic.

A wolf whistle pierces the air and everyone glances in the direction it came from. "'Bout time you brought in some good lookin' fellas! I was getting tired of looking at Tom's ugly mug."

Michonne and Carol snort as Maggie and Carl giggle, and you shake your head at the white haired, seventy-eight year old woman. "Gladys, stop teasin' the men. They literally just got here!" You holler back.

"Any of them single?"

"Oh my god. Go take a cold shower, you cougar!" Gladys cackles and you groan quietly before looking over your shoulder. "Sorry about that. I should have warned you about Gladys and her tendency to hit on any man that isn't her neighbor."

"S'alright." Rick chuckles. "It'll be nice to have some normalcy back in our lives."

"What's with the bars on the doors?" Michonne then wonders.

You look at one house in particular, it's front door having another door of bars attached in front of it as well. "The houses with bars on their doors were requested by those living in the house. These people are at the age where they can easily pass away in their sleep without warning, and after an incident back at their retirement home they requested bars on the doors as a precaution. They lock in a couple of places from the inside."

They seem to agree that that was a good idea as you nod at everyone else coming out to see what Gladys was yelling about. When you spot Mary Alice, a sixty-seven year old ex-nurse, you start to walk towards her house. "Hey Mary Alice, have you seen Daisy around? I want to introduce her to some new people."

Mary Alice stands up and walks over to the top stair of her porch. "Oh. Hello." She beams. "It's nice to see some capable, new faces around here."

"Ma'am," Rick drawls.

You can practically see Mary Alice swoon and you mumble, "You're going to give every goddamn old lady heart palpitations in here," under your breath. Rick chuckles and you clap your hands to garner Mary Alice's attention once more. "Mary! Where's Daisy?"

"Oh, um." She pauses as she fluffs her hair. "Last I saw her, Dave had asked her to help him pick some fruit from the garden."

"Okay. Thanks." Turning around to face the group, you smile sheepishly. "Maybe I'll just show you to your house first. Daisy might be busy for a bit longer." You're about to motion for them to follow you when you see Daisy appear from between two houses, munching on an apple and looking as carefree as a child her age should be. She meets your gaze from across the street, but before you can draw any attention to her you notice her steps falter as the most heartbreaking expression takes over her features when she sees who's with you. For a second you think this group might not be as innocent as they seemed, but then-

"Momma?"

Time seems to slow as Carol, of all people, freezes and then turns around. She stumbles back, hand going to her mouth in shock as she chokes on a sob. "S-Sophia?"

Your eyes widen at what's unfolding before you- Daisy (apparently Sophia) dropping her apple core before sprinting across the street. Carol meets her halfway, the two colliding with one another as their cries pierce the air. The rest of Carol's group looks on in awe before they join in on the reunion and you laugh as your vision suddenly blurs with unshed tears.

You startle when an arm settles across your shoulders and you glance over at Mary Alice smiling as she watches the reunion as well. "Did you know?"

"Not a clue," you say. "This is just an insane coincidence."

As everyone else takes a turn reuniting with the young girl and introducing her to the new faces, Carol glances up at you and starts to make her way over. You smile as she nears. "My Sophia was the kid you mentioned, wasn't she? The girl you saved before you came across the retirement home."

"Yeah. I just didn't know her name was Sophia." You chuckle. "She said something about her name making her sad because it reminded her of her mom, so she chose a new one."

"Why Daisy?"

You shrug. "Because we were walking through a field of daisies and she liked the sound of it."

Carol wetly chuckles and you give a surprised oh when she yanks you into a hug. "Thank you. Thank you for keeping my baby girl safe."

"No thanks needed, Carol. Whether your daughter knows it not, Daisy- er, Sophia- saved me as well. I'm just glad I could reunite the two of you."

The two of you pull out of the hug just to see the rest of the group making their way towards you, and Sophia hurries to wrap her arms around your waist. "Thank you. Thank you for finding my family."

"Don't even mention it, kid." You ruffle her hair, chuckling. "I'm just glad you found each other again." As you look up to meet everyone's house, you say, "So about your house.."

The group chuckle and you finally lead them to a couple empty houses just down the block you currently reside on. You inform them that every house in the neighborhood was built with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Rick tells you they'll take just the one house for now until they're acquainted with their surroundings and you let him know that that was fine, but in a few days you were taking a group out to pick out furniture and appliances for two houses.

Daryl scoffs. "Where exactly does one go shoppin' in the goddamn apocalypse?"

"In the store Y/N hid with her magic. Duh!" Sophia muses. Daryl glances down at the young girl before a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. She beams at him and he playfully reaches out to ruffle her hair.

"So, uh, yeah," you muse. "You guys can go ahead and wait here while I go round up a few sleeping bags that we can transform into mattresses," you tell them. "The water should be working, but you might want to run the faucets and showers for a minute or so to make sure all the air is out of the pipes." You start to back away down the sidewalk, heading towards your house. "I'll even knock on a few doors and see if there are any shirts and pants anyone is willing to let go of so you guys can shower. You can change into clean clothes while washing those you have on right now."

Before anything can be said, you turn around and make your way towards your house. You're not sure why all of sudden you became nervous- there is nothing to be nervous about- but you felt yourself suddenly getting anxious under all their gazes.

It doesn't take you long to find a few sleeping bags in your garage, so you take those with you while stopping by next door. You ask your neighbors for any sleeping bags or air mattresses, as well as a change of clothes, and they're all too happy to accommodate the newest residents of your sleepy little community. So by the time you make it back to the house where you had left the group, arms laden with bags that are threatening to cut off the circulation in your arms, you aren't surprised to see some of them already holding dishes of food.

"These old ladies sure do work fast." You laugh. Rick and Glenn are quick to pass off the dishes in their hands in favor of helping you bring in the stuff for them. They take the sleeping bags from you, leaving you with large shopping bags full of clothing. "So do you guys want everything set up downstairs or you do want to sleep in separate rooms already?"

"Downstairs is fine," Rick says. "At least for now."

In the living room, the sleeping bags are all rolled out and the air mattress is blown up. Rick settles Judith down on the mattress and Carl is quick to crawl on next to her. You've only enlarged one sleeping bag- the one Glenn and Maggie seemed to have gravitated to- when Rick stops you, telling you that you've done more than for him and his family. You ask him if he's sure and he nods, but you can't help just one last wiggle of your fingers to give the sleeping bags a little extra cushion.

"So I guess I'll leave you to it," you say. "In the bag with the clothes, there are plates and utensils. Everyone's offered up their laundry rooms for you to use, but if you're uncomfortable encroaching in on their houses then just get Sophia to show you to mine."

There's a round of thank yous as you leave so you wave and let them settle in. As you're walking out the front door, before you can shut it behind you, someone's gripping it and opening it wider. You're surprised to see Daryl follow you out.

"Everything good?" You ask.

"Yeah." He nods, hands finding their way into his jean's pockets. He shuffles rather sheepishly and you can't help but grin. "Yeah. All good here." You nod and turn to head down the stairs, only for his gruff voice to stop you in your tracks and make you turn back around once more. "Thanks. You didn't have to bring us in or trust us with your secret, but 'ya did. You gave my group a fightin' chance- 'ya gave those kinds in the house a fightin' chance. So thanks."

You smile at him. "You're welcome." He meets your gaze for a moment, eyes hidden behind a curtain of hair and you chuckle. "Go grab a plate of food and a shower, Daryl. You guys are safe here so relax. All of you look like you can sleep for days."

He shakes his head. "We still got people out there."

"And that sucks, I'm sure, but you need to look after yourself first," you say. "You won't be doing anyone any good if you're falling over your own two feet because you're beyond exhausted." Daryl shifts on his feet, his expression turning rather displeased. "Rest up and I promise that when you and a couple others are ready, I'll be right there with you to find your people."

Daryl holds your gaze before he relaxes a bit and he gives you a terse nod. "Fine. Until then, 'ya gotta learn not to rely on 'ya powers or whatever. Gotta keep that a secret until the last second."

Your nose wrinkles and then you sigh. "And here I thought I was done with physical education."

[hotdadlicense]

"tbf all I've read this week is twd" sounds like you need to make us a rec list, pal. :) please? :)

okay i may have been reading twd fic a lot but i am struggling to find ones that i'm Loving yknow :'( but! here is a few that i DID enjoy?

[complete fics]

this rick/michonne no saviours au

this 33k+ band au that was beth/daryl

this 35k+ daryl & lydia dirt dad dirt daughter meet earlier in the apocalypse au also beth/daryl

this fuckin 53k+ glenn/daryl heartbreaking baby acquisition fic!!!

this 3k+ rick/daryl coffeeshop meetcute au that makes me laugh and smile every time i reread it

6k+ tara/maggie fic that made me cry a lil bit

[wip fics]

daryl/rick w soon to be dad daryl 54k+ au??? its been a hot minute since i read this but i remember enjoyin it!

38k+ daryl/jesus au by loml loren @drcloyd whom i Love. summary has been engraved into my brain since the first time i read it. it figured that the only time hed ever left georgia, it wasnt as daryl dixon. thats SO sexy.

ohhh connie/daryl but also connie & lydia & daryl ohhh bro 🥺

some 90k+ young daryl au with a heavy focus on daryl & glenn

96k+ rick centric wake up at the start of the apocalypse Again au

21k+ carl gets bit on the arm instead of stomach au!

hmm another (156k+) rick centric waking up a the start au but now i'm confused and thinking this one was the one i thought the other one was..... anyway i would die for this trope! even if i do get confused

a carol & daryl murder ed then deal w cop rick moving in next door au! 51k+ rick/daryl

okay its late i have work tomorrow i must sleep but maybe theres something there that u might enjoy!!!!!!! 💖