#twd death

[zombiewhor3]

THE END OF US

fem reader x carl grimes

WARNINGS: main character death, spouse loss, angst, grief, implications of depression,

impatiently she waited, well in her mind it had felt like years, when in reality it had only been months since she watched Glenn die.

Now she was waiting for a letter from Carl,

she waited for a letter that explained what was happening in Alexandria while she was staying at Hilltop.

everyday felt like hell without any word from Carl, and with the war still going on nobody from Alexandria ever visited Hilltop.

Unless it was necessary, unless they needed supplies or even people to fight with them.

And even then Hilltop hadn't had that much to offer as their own food source and weapon source began to grow smaller and smaller.

Y/n rested on her knees her hands wearing gloves as she gently placed in the last tomato plant into the garden bed Maggie had created.

Once covered with soil she slipped off her gloves and used a watering container to drizzle water over the plants in hope they grow full and healthy with fresh vegetables for them to eat.

she could hear the guards yell a signal to open the gates to which she rushed and stood just at the opening watching as people from Alexandria started to fill in.

Rick, Daryl, Rosita and Tara all there with nothing but false expressions trying to hide the fact they had just lost another person.

Without a doubt y/n wrapped her arms around Daryl and she could sense something was off, not just by the lack of the hug back but from the way he hadn't said anything to her.

the gates shut behind them and they had stepped foot into hilltops territory, Rick had looked down at his shoes after seeing Maggie approaching to see what news there was.

Carol and Morgan gathered behind her and other members of hilltop stopped their job to look at the leader Rick Grimes in front of them.

"what's happening?" Carol asked and could see as Daryl made an eye contact with her, a sad one, one that was swallowing back sadness.

"Carls dead" the words from ricks mouth struck her like lightning, her eyes widened and everything in her body seemed to freeze.

her knees dropped to the ground and it felt like the world had stopped, her vision blurred and her lungs collapsing inside her.

Maggie had wrapped her arms around her, because she understood the pain, the pain of losing someone without even a goodbye.

-

Now she hadn't eaten anything in days, nothing except small sips of water to keep her mouth from running unbearably dry.

she sat at the guard tower day and night, she was ignoring the fact she needed sleep.

a gun was rested in her holster as she desperately waited for something, anything to come by the gates of Alexandria.

now that Carl was gone what was the meaning of this god forsaken place? Was one dead boy really going to stop a war?

she had been transported to Alexandria by Maggie and Jesus in hopes that she would maybe be able to properly mourn.

because it was carls body buried on that land, he was buried right next to where all the others were, where they all rested peacefully.

but she hadn't visited his grave, no matter how much she wanted to face the reality that he was gone it was all just to much.

She could feel a palm press against her shoulder blade and it had made her jump a little.

"relax kiddo it's me" Daryl spoke and could see as she let out a relived breath, she took a seat on the railing and watched him do the same.

"you shouldn't be up here all the time" Daryl spoke and could see as she shrugged,

and just as he was about to speak again he heard giggles coming from just below them.

they peaked their head down to see Judith who was running out of the house, her blonde hair bouncing around in her face.

y/n had climbed down the ladder to grab her before she had gotten to far from Michonne or ricks reach,

Holding her in her arms and seeing her smile had made her start to quiver a little,

she had a sad and soft expression as she looked at the joyful child who had no clue what was happening except that she was running.

Not from something or a monster she was running because she was a gleeful child, who was simply trying to play like every child should. 

she only imagined what the future would be like without Carl, birthdays and holidays would go by as his and Judith's hand print on the front porch would soon start to wither away from the rain and all sorts of weather that had occured.

she would spend her nights alone and when in doubt of making the right decision she had no one to guide her, no one to settle her emotions when they were all torn up into shreds. 

she never understood why carl was so nice of heart, why he was so willing to let a stranger come into their home, he gave him food and water and yet he was still re-paid from the world with a walker bite, one that couldn't be cured or amputated. 

there was nothing he could do but turn into rotting flesh, turn into one of those monsters. 

everyone else in the community could sense her ache as they walked past, as they could see the lack of sleep and the pity that always seemed to linger in her eyes after he died. 

especially Daryl, he could see how she sat at his grave for hours at a time flipping through his old comic books or just staring blankly at it almost like she was thinking and yet he knew exactly what was in her thoughts because he had the same ones.

the same ones of if he had made the right choice would Glenn be alive? if he hadn't let his temper escape him what would've happened? 

she couldn't help herself but think if she'd stayed in Alexandria with him maybe she could've prevented the bite, prevented all the ache the rotting corpses caused to their family.

maybe he'd still be alive right here and now and standing up for what he believed in. 

she sat at the foot of her grave as Judith played with a stuffed toy in her lap, y/n could feel her heart ache a little at the fact of the child's innocence how sweet she was and how the world truly didn't deserve her or her brother. 

but in the end she still had all the memories and rememberance of the sweet words he used to say, the comic books he left by her bedside and oh, the crafted necklace he made her. 

and if she ever needed to talk he'd be there buried.

[mozzeralla-stix]

i will go insane if you write any form of angst about carl × reader that's negan's son T^T

Gone…

Carl Grimes x M! Savior! Reader

Warnings: Death, blood, angst, hurt no comfort.

—————————————————————————

I heard the nightly tapping on my window, smiling to myself as I knew exactly who it was. I roll my hands into fists and place them gently on my closer eyes, slowly rubbing the sleep out of them. I open my eyes and squint, getting used to the dark of my room.

I finally find the strength to pull myself onto the cold, metal floor. The room I sleep in is cold and heartless- no matter how many decorations I put up. I still find myself haunted with the deaths my father caused. Their ghosts haunt my walls, freezing all comfort away that I could possibly take refuge in. The only thing that seems to warm me is the long-haired boy at my window.

I make my way to the opposite side of my room, and pull the window open. Almost automatically, Carl and I fall into our nightly rhythm. I help him climb through the window, adjusting his hat as needed, and before I know it I’m wrapped up in his strong arms.

“I missed you…” He mutters.

“Carl… it’s been a day”, I lightly chuckle, feeling my attitude soften with every soft breath of his that finds its way to my neck. He suddenly pulls back, and places a soft kiss to my lips before I can even begin to whine. The kiss isn’t rough, or lustful. It’s gentle, his pretty lips dancing with mine to express our love. We pull back, just as Carl says “God, you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. And you’re mine.”

Our moment is interrupted, as my door suddenly swings open. We freeze, looking like deer in headlights as my father’s shadow stands strong on the floor. I can feel my palms quickly clam up, I feel my heart beat speed up with the adrenaline that is suddenly pumping through my veins. I can’t bring myself to do anything- knowing what’s about to happen.

“Well, what do we have here?” My dad’s booming voice echos throughout the complex, causing me to let out a shaky, unstable breath. My father takes slow, heavy steps towards Carl and I. I can feel his hand squeeze my arm in utter terror, and as a tear slips down my eye, I take my chance.

“Carl… I’m so sorry. I love you…” I whisper, knowing that is all my fault. I shouldn’t have made him sneak in here. I shouldn’t have ever pursued him.

My dad reaches us, and in a sudden motion grasps Carl roughly by the collar of his shirt. “So this is why you’ve been so unfocused, huh son? Well we can’t have that! Now can we?” he announces loudly, hot tears gaining speed along my cheeks. I whisper to myself, the weakest and tiniest “no”.

My dad lets out an evil, disgusting laugh. “I always knew you were a pansy, I guess we’ve gotta toughen you up!” he says, before turning Carl to face me directly. Before I knew it, my very own father had stuck a knife right into the abdomen of the love of my life. I scream out, sobbing as I watch the crimson liquid spill out of Carl. My dad- no, Negan now- drops Carl to the floor, and turns on his heel to walk out the door. “Well, that ought to work! Oh, and he’s going to turn. Have fun…” Negan says, swiftly finding his way out the door and locking it.

I sprint to Carl, dropping to my knees and grabbing his hand tightly. I look him in his bright blue eyes, watching the light from them evaporate by the second. “Carl.. Carl baby I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I love you…” I whisper through my sobs, throwing my head down towards his chest. I feel his hand squeeze mine, and I feel the wet palm of his other push my hair out of the way of my forehead. “..It- it’s okay my love, the last thing I get to see before I go is you. That’s enough…”.

I can’t help but sob even harder, as we whisper “I love you’s” and hold each other close. Within minutes, I feel Carl go limp. He’s gone.

I close my eyes, and take a deep breath. I gently push myself until my back hits the cold wall of my room, the moonlight just barely illuminating the rest of the area through my window. I know what has to happen now. I know I just have to wait. But, what I don’t know is if I’ll have the strength to do what I need to do….

—————————————————————————

This is SO rushed and SO sad I’m sorry 😭😭

[lastclan]

WELCOME TO LASTCLAN

cw: BLOOD, GORE, ZOMBIES, DEAD CATS

MOON 0: Prologue

Next Chapter ->

[kookiekult]

Norman's eyes

Norman's smile

[ozonegrrrl]

liar.

[nat111love]

THE ONES WHO LIVE ↳ Season 1 ↳ Episode 4 ↳  What we

[mrwhite99]

I can't be the only one who thinks Ben from TWD kinda... looks like Lawrence

please tell me I'm not crazy

[ssheiste]

trying to find more time to draw lately! here’s some more daryl, I was commissioned to draw him 😛 tumblr kinda destroyed the quality but it’s on my ig too! same @ as here

[lovesick-girly]

he was looking so fine while dying

[dyke-will-graham]

I am incapable of loving things a normal amount. I devour them, I get so excited about anything related to my fixations that I go non verbal and start screaming and my chest shakes an I have to do a few laps.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No.18 & No. 20

Prompt 18: Survivor’s guilt (Alt)

Prompt 20: “It’s not your fault.”

Warnings: Mentions of canonical character death

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

There was no answer when you knocked, the silence as thick as the tension, making the door heavier and harder to open. The single candle had burned down to an oddly shaped sculpture, its curves and dips dimming the flame’s reach. The dinner tray you had brought earlier remained untouched, the soup cold and sandwich soggy.

Your heart ached just as much as it burned, scorched with rage that simmered just below your ribs. Daryl was on the edge of the mattress, staring blankly at the floor. It was as if he’d turned to stone, frozen within a nightmare. And you feared he had forever become trapped in a place you couldn’t reach.

“Daryl.” You tried, keeping your distance. He was a wounded animal, fearful and dangerous at the same time. He remained as he was. He had clung to you so tightly when he had clambered off the back of the bike, his legs giving and his tears flowing. It had been the only reaction you had seen from him in his day and a half back at Hilltop. “Daryl.”

You still didn’t approach, but finally he blinked, his bruised and bloodshot eyes sliding over to finally acknowledge you. The attention didn’t last. He was back to staring at the floor within seconds.

You risked two deliberate steps toward him before crouching, making yourself smaller in hope that it would not arouse the terror held at bay within him.

“You need to eat, sleep.”

Nothing.

Sighing, you slowly stood and stepped back before turning away, bending over the candle in preparation to blow it out, a new one beside it so as to keep the darkness away from your partner. The least you could do was stay, give him a measure of comfort that he wasn’t alone.

“Should’a been me.”

His voice was raspy, tired, and so unexpected that you gasped. When you spun to regard him, he hadn’t moved. “What?”

Daryl cleared his throat after an agonizing period of silence. “Was ready. Deserved it. Should’a been me.”

A flash of red, Glenn’s final words. Your lip quivered and your eyes closed as you gathered your bearings. “No.” You whispered, reassuming the earlier position a few feet from him. “Daryl, it’s not your fault.”

“Was. Is.” He muttered, a tear breaking free to cascade down his cheek. You wanted so badly to wipe it away and hold him.

“Negan was going to do what he was going to do. You had no influence over him.” You attempted, dropping to your knees and shuffling forward a few inches at a slow pace.

“F’I hadn’t—” The words dried up on the tip of his tongue, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Oh, Daryl.” You knew he would carry this forever, a guilt on his shoulders that he’d never shed. He still carried Beth after all this time. The weight had lessened, finally splintering off to allow you to carry a portion for him, a burden you were more than willing to bear for him. “You couldn’t stop him.”

His eyes slowly peeled open, wet and shining, and you could no longer stay away.

“Please.” You began. “Let me help you.” When his head turned, even with the heavy pain his expression bore, you had never been more relieved. No, that wasn’t true. The relief came when he nodded, a simple dip of his head that had you carefully climbing to your feet and approaching.

When your hand touched his shoulder, the dam broke. His hands found your waist and pulled you toward him, his face finding shelter against your stomach as his shoulders shook in silent sobs. Gentle fingers carded through his hair, hushed syllables making an effort to soak up even a portion of his suffering.

Each tear, each jerk of his body was gasoline on the inferno raging within you.

And Negan would burn.

[perryabbott]

THE WALKING DEAD: DARYL DIXON 2.02 "Moulin Rouge"

[ffsjustletmesleep]

OHHH MY GOD THIS PICTURE

(don't look at the tags..)

[ladywoodrose]

I restarted The Walking Dead (for the 5738483th time). I'm 52 seconds into THAT episode. (Coda) and I'm already crying because I DREAD this godforsaken stupid episode so god damn much. 💔😭🤬

[kookiekult]

Norman's arms

Norman's hands

[the-carlos-cow-eyes]

What Bellamy Blake deserved: NOT FUCKING THAT