#twd walter

[terranovathemust]

I'm fine, it's just a Walter that got into my eyes. 😥

[d0gwithabr0kenleg]

someone take this pen away from me rn

[notrandtumblin]

AMC Network TV Poll

[frogchampart]

hey chat ive been getting into the walking dead and these are my pookies

[shibuya-111]

[aoitakumi8148]

[Improving some of my gifs/gifsets these days] 𝟚 of 𝟜, 2023.

“...We just march some new place, and somebody else will die. It’s never gonna stop...”

[entermynightmare]

Mfw IB-C03W2: WLT 101 + IB-C03W1: WLT 011 + 2x IB-C03W3: NGI 006

[astralium1]

is breaking bad canonically connected with the walking dead??? considering merle's meth was blue + both are AMC shows

[dead-blog69420]

Actually the best thing I've ever made I giggle Everytime I watch it

[itsgrimeytime]

The Life We Could've Had || Rick Grimes (TWD)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Based On: 'I Love You So' by The Walters

Summary: Rick knows you're gone, he does. He just keeps seeing you in everything -the distant smell of coffee in the morning, or the sand beneath his toes (when he finds himself on a beach.) And as he tried to scrub what pain he felt out of his head, he wondered just when he could see you again.

TWS: violence, guns, blood, gore, ANGST, death, disassociation, hallucinations, grief themes, main character death, crying, and very vague implications of suicide (just Rick can't do it without you, etc.)

[[A/N: This is very different than all my other works, but I honestly just wanted to write some heavy angst. Like being totally fr, this is Rick grieving you. Not for the faint of heart. I needed to get these emotions out. Thanks for reading!!!]]

Rick hadn't expected it. Maybe that's why he'd become so paranoid now.

It was supposed to be a simple run, in and out, he can't even remember what the trip had been about; what had you gone out to get?

You were just smiling, laughing, teasing him the way that you always did -you two were on the precipice of something new. It was something that you'd been dancing around for as long as you could; no matter what, everything had always been in the way.

They didn't even ask any questions-

He remembers it vividly, watching you skip ahead of a few steps -grinning wide and bright. You were about to say something. You opened your mouth, words right there on your lips. He wasn't worried then about hearing them because he thought you had time. That both of you had time-

The next thing he remembers is the stain of red on your shirt, and your face faltering in its place -your pretty smile gone.

Rick felt like he couldn't breathe, as you crumpled to your knees -gasping and god, there was so much blood. He had a spare thought of how much could be left in you if there was so much here.

His head was spinning, so the sun so bright and distantly, he heard a scream -the same way as the shot, he realized now. But he couldn't think like then, his mind solely focused on falling to his knees beside you. Blinking what felt like shock out of his mind, he was by your side -desperately pushing on your chest, it was bleeding through his hands.

"Y/N, Y/N," he was breathless, trying to turn your face to his -to meet your eyes, "-can you hear me?"

When you looked at him, your face was paler than it once was and there was blood smeared across your mouth -bright red against the skin. You were crying, inhaling like each breath was your last, and fuck, maybe it was-

Rick pushed that thought to the back of his head, ripping off the sleeve of his flannel with practiced ease. Maybe he could wrap it? Just to buy time until-

"Rick," you muttered, and your voice was broken -desperate, hopeless, "-please, don't let me become one of t-them. I'm begging-"

"Stop, don't-" he couldn't help it, his voice cracked -as he wrapped the fabric around the wound, tight, "-don't talk like that."

"Rick, look at me," you soothed, still trying to comfort him even now, "-look at me... please."

He swallowed, tipping his eyes to meet yours after lingering on the torn flannel (the blood was already seeping through), and something in him broke -looking at you. This wasn't supposed to happen, it was just-

"Hey, hey-" you spoke, struggling with every breath -your hands shakily coming to wrap gently around his face, thumbs wiping at the salty trail of tears down his cheeks, "I-I need you to know something, okay?"

"I can't-"

"You can," you encouraged, despite the tears washing at the blood on your face -there you were, hopeful, "-you're R-Rick fucking Gri-imes. You can do anything."

"Not without you," he added, desperate to cherish every last second he could, he placed his hands over yours -blood still staining the palms.

You weren't there really anymore, the color in your face fading and maybe that's why you decided to say it because you felt he needed to know, "-I love you. Always have."

He blinked, and the fog in his head cleared -Daryl was standing in front of him, leaning on the wall with a look in his eye. He knew it, everybody had been looking at him the same way since-

"Get up," he spoke, curt and somehow caring, "-ya gotta eat."

Rick sighed, pinching the top of his nose and smoothing along under his eyes. Trying to wish he'd slept better, maybe. He made a noise in response, Daryl, assuming what it meant, guided him along to some food.

He knew it was bad. He knew he needed to take better care of himself, you wouldn't like it. But still, it felt like he could hardly function. It felt like every bone in his body ached in a way that he could never fix.

Carol was next, smiling in that sad way she always had, and pulling him into a hug. Her tears spilled onto his sleeve, Rick distantly wished he could cry like that -his brain seemed slow to process everything, and sometimes he felt like he was back there. You in his arms, his hands desperate to fix it, blood everywhere, your hand shaking in his-

"Just know we're all here for you," she whispered, sniffling and her voice thick like she was holding back tears, "-okay?"

"Okay," he whispered back, tone barely above silence -he couldn't trust his voice, not now. All he wanted to do was sit and think, even just for a moment, he wanted to see you again.

They wanted him to take a break from farming, Glenn even offered up that he'd fill in until he felt more up to it. Rick refused, distantly hearing the echo of your voice 'it suits you'; he used to catch you staring at him as he worked. Palms covered in dirt and shirt even worse with sweat dripping down his skin, he truly didn't get what you liked about it. Didn't mean he was gonna stop.

That was how he got out here in the basting sun, sifting through some dirt to make more spots for planting. It was always nice, doing something he felt was so normal when he felt like everything around him wasn't.

And you helped with that too. Got him involved in simple things, like cooking, or enjoying the flowers as they bloomed. It brought him to an easier world, one he wished he could've had longer.

He leaned on his shovel, then, pushed back the tears -he didn't have time to cry. He never would, this world wasn't made for time.

"I shoulda said something earlier," he cursed to himself, swinging on the shovel as his hair drifted down. He wasn't sure he could ever really forgive himself for not.

'Always have,' it echoed around in his head, bouncing along. Rick needed to know. How long?

How long would the two of you have had? If he had just-

And then he saw it, the pattern of your favorite shirt. It was out of the corner of his eye, but he swore he... he saw it.

It wasn't surprising that it started happening, Rick had known that he started... seeing things, or hearing things. When he went through something this big, it just... it shut his senses down in a way he didn't know how to fix.

So, days went by where he'd swear to hear your laugh echoing through the halls -loud and boisterous. It was the kind when he'd barely heard -freeing, carefree, nothing to be afraid of, he'd heard it maybe once. But then, he swore...

And then it was your eyes, a gleam against the dark of the night, he froze.

Every hair on his body stood up, the chill of the cold night rushing across his skin -he knew those eyes. He couldn't ever mistake those eyes -not after, not after seeing the life fade from them.

He swore he knew those eyes.

Something in him willed to whisper out into the night, urged him to speak, to ask if he had just seen what he saw. If you were... if you were there. And right when he was on the cusp, your name sifting across his tongue for the first time in awhile-

"Dad," Carl asked, suddenly by his side (had he always been there?), "-everythin' okay?"

And Rick Grimes was a lot of things, but he was never a liar. At least not to Carl. There was no room for it in this world, you needed whole and complete trust. It probably wasn't healthy, and if this had been the world before, there was probably a guy in an armchair that would tell him so. But there isn't.

"No," he exhaled, looking out into the night -trying to find a trace of you in the stars, "-but I'm workin' on it."

Carl sighed, scooching in closer to his side -comforting, familiar, "I know, I... I miss them too."

That night was when it happened, he'd retired to sleep after the stars started to blur and his head started to slow. Brain reaching for a kind of warmth that could only be dreamed of, he hoped to get the closest to it. Usually, his nights consisted of flashes of memories, they varied on the night; sometimes he remembered the first time he held Carl. Felt so far away now, as the world twisted in this fucked up way.

He never wished this for Carl. For, for Judith...

On other nights, it was less pleasant. Blurred memories of things he could beg to forget but never would. Killing Shane, losing Lori... It all came back in full force in his sleep. Your death was no exception, he felt the blood on his hands for weeks after, and could often feel the slow beats of your heartbeats thrumming through his head. No matter how hard he tried, he could never warn you -there was always something cutting him back, holding his tongue.

And the more it repeated the more his days bled together, and the more he wished he had kept you longer.

That night, though, was different. It was sunny in his dream, in a meadow he'd never been in -well, one he at least didn't remember.

The birds were chirping and the sun was warm against his skin, not in the way he found now, but in the way of pool parties and meat on the grill -it was nostalgic. The grass was scratching against his palms in a way that felt real, but also, distant. Not a dream.

His eyes began to squint at the orange sun rise, it was bright and beautiful, but a touch too much then. The air was calm, despite his instinct to survey the area -it seemed calm, peaceful even.

A butterfly landed by his hand, perched gently on a flower; Rick could only watch it in astonishment. It had been so long since he'd seen such simply beauty -the missing adrenaline felt starchly out of place, and somehow it made him uneasy.

Then, the sun was blocked out by a shadow -his eyes were struggling to adjust to the change.

"Morning, sleepyhead," a voice spoke, bright and teasing -happy.

But he knew that voice, he knew it so well. There was no way-

Rick gasped out, finding his voice was in fact sleep-slurred -yet, he couldn't catch up with the fierce beating of his heart, "Y/N?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in a way he'd always found cute, "You expecting someone else, Grimes?"

"Well," he spoke, his smile so natural -he didn't want to break this moment, "-no."

The air here was so light, filled with the freshness of the river that ran nearby. He was quiet then, understanding that somehow the dead didn't exist here -you didn't have that worry creased deep into your skin, and feeling his pocket -his pistol remained unaccounted for.

"Good answer," you laughed, extending your hand to pull him up. Your skin was soft, he realized then -no need for callouses and dirt under your fingernails. And looking at you, you were clean -hair messy from the day, yet each strand seemed perfect in a way he couldn't describe.

You paused, noticing his silence, "Everything okay? You don't seem like you're here with me."

You could never be more wrong, he thought gently to himself. His eyes were fluttering across your face, absorbing each blemish on your skin -every wrinkle, every scab, every freckle. He needed to keep it, to know it himself. There was something about you being right in front of him, so tangible, that made him realize that he'd missed so much about you. That there were things he would never know, things he'd always wonder about.

"I'm okay," he relented, the small smile growing on his face -he couldn't miss a moment, "-just disoriented. How... How long have I been out 'ere?"

You looked at him for a second, trying to believe him (you could always see right through him), "Just a few hours, looked like you needed the sleep."

Then, you laughed -without hesitation, extending your hand forward to turn through his hair. It wasn't something he'd experienced with you, the casual affection, but it wasn't exactly unwelcome. Pulling your hand back, you swung a leaf between your fingers.

Oh.

"You like living in the dirt, mountain man?"

He laughed, shrugging at the question, "Was some good sleep."

"Mmm, I can tell," you hummed, the sort of teasing smile settling on your lips he was the most familiar with. Your hand moved up again, shaking through his hair with ease that he hadn't known but didn't feel out of place.

"Where's Carl and Judith?" he asked, curious if they were in this... dream? Universe?

"Inside," you answered, motioning passively to the house behind you, "-it's very early for them. Crossing my fingers, they're still asleep."

He stuttered in place, realizing that the country home with beautiful windows and a cliche picket fence was his. It was exactly what he pictured in his paradise, the daydreams he'd known in a more dangerous world. The real one, something in his head quipped and he pushed it far away. What was the harm of a dream?

Rick pursed his lips, hand reaching out to trace the woodwork -the frames, the porch, the rocking chairs-

"Why?" you continued, voice light and joking, "You already get sick of me?"

"No," he smiled, yes, but there was a seriousness there, "-I could never get sick of ya."

You laughed, a bit taken aback by the genuine tone, as you flashed up your left hand -there sat a ring, glimmering in the low sunrise, "I would hope not."

He blinked, a rough sinking in his stomach -you were married?

Something shifted in him then, rather untouched since... since your death, god he had loved you. It wasn't a quick process, it was slow -especially after losing Lori so suddenly. His feelings were all so mixed up then, between Carl and Shane-

But everything was so clear now, as he stared at the ring on your hand. Would that have happened if you were still...?

There wasn't anything to be official, not in the world he was in, but if he found a ring... would he have proposed?

"Rick?" you asked, hands gentle on your biceps -grounding him there, "-are you sure you're okay?"

He blinked, and something in him snapped then. This wasn't real, you weren't there not really. How was this fair? How was any of this fair? He held his hands against yours, tighter than he probably should have, but he couldn't... he couldn't lose you again.

"You're not..." he stuttered out, slow and steady -his hands shaking against your skin, "-you're not really here, are ya?"

It was suddenly then, the sunrise flickering and almost the nostalgia faded -it was suddenly very real. He could feel the warmth under his fingertips, the texture of your skin, the rise and falls of your breaths. You were right here in front of him -it was so real.

"No, not really," you sighed, moving your hands up to his cheeks -pressing your fingertips into his cheeks, "-but I think you know that. Don't you?"

Rick laughed, watery but still he felt lighter than he had in weeks, "I know, I just... I wish ya were."

You frowned, tucking a few stray curls behind his ears -holding him gently in a way he'd been lacking for so long, "I know you do, Rick, I know you do."

"I love you," he whispered, desperate to get it to you, to tell you, "-I never... I never got to tell you."

"Rick, Rick-" you soothed, dragging your hands down his arms -guiding him through his tears, "-I know. I always knew."

He exhaled, the tears bubbling in his throat -it was so heavy on his shoulders. Once he started, he wasn't sure it could stop. Not with you here, arms open and warm -he always felt so accepted with you. Nothing could scare you away, he knew that. He always knew that.

"Of course you did."

You smiled, tilting his face to match yours -gently and open to him, wholly and completely, "Rick, you know what I'm here for."

"I don't," he was ignoring it, the obvious purpose of you here -closure, "-you have to... I can't-"

"Listen to me," you tried to catch his eyes, "-you don't have to forget me-"

"I would never."

"-but you have to keep going," you were tearing up now, a heavyweight behind your words, "I can't... Shit, I can't leave without knowing you're okay."

He paused, eyes racking across your face -you were familiar now, the scars detailed on your face, and the blood on your shirt. You were exactly as you looked that day, he could almost see the blood on his hands-

"I can't," Rick cried, and it shook to your bones -an ache of something you couldn't give him, "-you know I can't."

"Yes," your thumbs were frantic wiping at his eyes, despite your own tears littering your eyes, "-you can."

He was shaking in your hands, the breaths of his lungs desperate for air -he couldn't breathe. You were still holding him there, delicate as a flower; he was precious to you, in a way you were certain many wouldn't understand.

"How am I supposed-"

"Rick," you were gentle, your tone low and despite your own fears, you comforted, "-I love you, but you need to keep going. I don't know what it's going to take. I just- I just know it's going to be hard. But you, you are one of the strongest people I've ever met."

"Don't do this," he pleaded, and he saw you hesitate then, "-please, don't."

"We didn't get a proper goodbye last time, did we?"

"Y/N," he was getting desperate, fingers tight on your clothes -holding you there as the landscape around the two of you seemed to begin to fade into a bright light, "-don't leave me."

"I love you, okay?" you spoke through tears, holding his face with the gentlest of touches -wiping away his tears, "Never forget that."

"Y/N-"

"Rick," you answered with just as much authority, determined to make him pay attention, "-I have to go, just promise me-"

"But I love you."

You absorbed those words, your face settling into a complex of emotions -something of affection and frustration and sadness all screwed up together on your face. He felt a pang of guilt then at the tears; if he could just-

"Please let me go," it was barely there like the words were hard to get out, and as Rick looked at you he could tell they truly were, "-please let me go."

He was frozen then, the warmth under his fingertips was fading so quickly -he grasped desperately at you. He couldn't lose you again, he couldn't bare it. Not again, not again-

Yet, you weren't there, the fabric underneath his fingers was now that of thin air. The scratchy pillow under his head wasn't the cushion of the meadow, and your hands weren't cradling his face. Despite the distant warmth he felt there, they never had been. The cell seemed like the loneliest place in the world then.

Quiet darkness was unsettled like nothing had ever happened.

"Rick?" a voice tumbled into the hallway, and for a second he hoped. But it was squashed at the familiar face, Maggie, "I heard you, you were... cryin', is there anything-"

And there in that cell, Rick let out a sob -desperate to just feel anything other than the heaviness that sat there, and yet... he didn't want to lose it. Because it was you, somewhere in the twisted train of thought, you were here.

He couldn't leave you behind.

[that-kenlee-guy]

My dear friend drew two of my TWD old men OC. And yes, they're both husbands to each other. Left is Walter (65), right is Henry (70)

[terranovathemust]

I can feel his satisfaction 😂

[simeffable]

there will be three winners, poll will end on Saturday 27th April!

[snazzzycattzz]

Intro post :P

hhiiiii this is my tumblr, if you found my acc from my tiktok you’d know i accidentally lost access to my old tumblr so here’s just some basic stuff about me and what i enjoy

I’m 15, I’m queer and trans, and am very nerdy and dumb.

I use he/they pronouns but I would prefer if people used more masculine pronouns/ stuff with me

I got 3 cats and two dogs (cats:ginger, Walter, basil|dogs:luna, money)

Im from americaaaaa more specifically the midwest, iowa to be even more exact (nun ya business where in Iowa tho)

music i like: Nirvana(my current favorite band), Pearl Jam, SOAD, MCR, Pretty vicious,They might be giants, Descendants, Mom jeans, Kimya Dawson, Dead Kennedys, American Football, Rage against the Machine, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The white stripes, Tyler the creator, Destructo disc, modern baseball, Camping in Alaska, the Beatles, Adrianna lenker, glass animals and sooo much more

Video games I enjoy: Rdr1&2, TWDG, life is strange, Minecraft, Fallout, Skyrim, Horizon zero dawn& forbidden west, tlou, dbh, tomb raider, the long dark, the sims, Emily is away, portal, uncharted, what remains of edith finch, UNDERTALE

shows/movies i watch: Gravity falls, TWD, Arcane, into the spider-verse, AUSOE, Ponyo(and basically any studio ghibli movie), South Park, I saw the tv glow

other interests: photography, guitar(I’m barely starting to learn), poetry, history, art in general is awesome, Garfield, books are cool but I’ve really only been reading philosophy rn (not to be like “I’m so much better than u bc I read philosophy!!! 🤓” cause that ain’t true)

dni: racist, homophobic, transphobic, zionist, p3do,zoophile, basically just don’t be a fucking asshole dude

and that’s basically it, probably just gonna shit post on here but I might post art and stuff

thanks for saying hi

[jascnbrody]

had a dream about breaking bad but it was higurashi. jesse was keiichi and Walter White was a sonozaki. jesse killed carol from twd in swamp and walter made herbody vanish.

[bubbledtee]

i've been quietly observing all the modern 80s!james stuff from afar but i need to add.

because james would be the typa guy to be on the sigma side of tiktok. he'd see a breaking bad meme and he'd come running to you because walter white and minecraft makes him giggle sm. and he'd quote saul goodman all the goddamn time (but i do think he would be opposed to patrick baetman fans cause he thinks they're cringey asf)

he loves that shit. he'd call himself a sigma on the internet and his vocabulary would consist of "real" "fr" and "cold". and it'd be real funny to you because you know that man wouldn't be able to live without your cuddles and kisses. not very sigma male of you is it james 🤨

LANA THIS IS MAKING ME GIGGLE AND SQUEAL RN FOR NO REASON. that man would love breaking bad. he would definitely send you pics of jesse and jane and go “babe this is literally us” OR OR OR he’d send pics of jimmy and kim and say that 🤭🤭

he’d be a satirical sigma i bet. like it’s all for laughs and he doesn’t genuinely believe that shit 😭😭 that man will have a full on argument with andrew tate supporters i guarantee it.

and he’d definitely send you edits of walt from brba or rick or daryl from twd all the time and be like “literally me” and you just respond like “yes, baby, that’s literally you ^-^ do you want pizza for dinner?”

he’s such a silly i love him