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pretentiousgayguyidk · 1 year

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I know I've been gone forever, but it wasn't all for naught! As i have started making progress on a big ass project. Point is I've started writing a fanfic for the ENTIRE Walking Dead show. Yes, it is a Daryl x Male Reader. Yes you might cry, as I will go through as much for the show in fan fic form as I can. So far i have solid ideas all the way up to the start of season four!

That being said please keep in mind that The Walking Dead is a violent and gory show, my writing will reflect the story as exact as I can with an additional character. There will be graphic content, so if you are triggered by mention of death, suicide, gore, assault, abuse, drugs, and more. PLEASE DO NOT READ. I don't want anyone to be harmed by my works.

City of the Dead

Prologue

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“Vera-shka, I need a screwdriver.” The young man called out, wiping sweat from his brow as his younger sister aided him. She scoffed, aggressively handing over the tool making him wince in pain as it pressed against his growing blisters. He had been working on his father’s old Apache for almost six hours now, his hands were aching, and his mind was tired. He sighed, carefully replacing yet another piece of the heli’s dash.

“You know, as much as Papa loves his Pititsa he really let it go.” Vera grumbled, leaning against the Apache’s hull. Her older brother grunted in agreement, screwing in the last piece of the helicopter’s new gauges.

“Da, Papa’s too busy drinking to be bothered with his favorite child. Why do you think he practically raised us on this bird?” He laughed with no feeling, he couldn’t even muster the energy anymore. With yet another sigh he climbs out of the helicopter, carefully cleaning oil and grease off his hands with his rag. “Vera-shka, you should probably get back, he’ll raise hell if dinner isn’t fixed by the time he’s home.” She crossed her arms, raising a brow and pursing her lips sassily.

“Seriously? Do I really have to? I mean what's the point! You know I suck at cooking, he’ll be pissed no matter what! You do it, you’re the golden child. Suka.” she raged, waving her hands around rabidly. He sighed, nodding with a weak smile.

“Okay. You win Vera. I’ll do all the work, not like I’ve been covering your ass since birth.” He muttered, turning for the house. He knows he shouldn’t be hard on Vera, she was only fourteen. She shouldn’t be at home fixing dinner and helicopters. He stopped for a moment, sucking in a deep breath before turning around. “I’ll only cook if you-”

His heart hammered in his ears. His body running cold with goosebumps as a string seemed to snap inside him. A man with pale skin and stringy hair had grabbed Vera - pulling on her ponytail - his teeth digging into her arm as she tried to pull him off. He stood frozen in fear and shock for a moment as the man ripped apart her arm, making it go limp… exposing her neck.

(Name) grabbed the nearest tool, a wrench. He gripped it tightly, tight enough to pop some of the blisters. He raised the wrench, ignoring the liquid coating his hand and the wrench as he swung at the being. “Слезь с нееб, сука!” He screamed ferally, his eyes wide with rage as the sickening crunch of the man’s skull filled his ears. The man fell to the ground, part of his skull caved in. The older tossed his tool aside, rushing over and cradling his limp sister in his arms. She gurgled, blood gushing from her neck and spilling from her mouth as she choked. He stifled a sob, gently hugging her.

“Мне жаль! я так виноват…” He wailed. She silently cried, only able to respond with soft gurgling and sighing. He pressed his forehead against hers, gently cradling her wound. He fumbled for a bit, his mind going blank as he reached for his phone. The blood caking his fingers made it difficult to hold onto. He swallowed hard as he called 911. The phone picked up after a few seconds, the woman on the line sounded fearful as she asked “911 what's your emergency?” He blubbered for a bit, mumbling in Russian manically. The woman on the line started to speak, only for her sentence to be cut off by a scream, and the steady beeping of the call ending. Was the line cut?

She choked and gasped one last time before falling limp and cold in his arms. He trembled, pulling away slightly to look at her face. Slowly shaking his head, he shakes her a little. It wasn’t the first time he lost someone, and it wasn’t the first time someone died in front of him. All the same, seeing someone so much younger than you die, die so brutally in your arms.

He cried out, coughing and choking as he dropped her body to the ground. He stumbled backwards, his stomach catching in a knot as bile was expelled. “No no no…” he whimpered, his (light/dark) hair falling into his face. His body pulsed with strain as more acid spilled from his mouth and nose. The burning sensation in his throat and sinuses made him cry harder as he clutched at his hoodie, smearing blood all over the fabric. He gripped at his hair and pressed his face to the ground, hyperventilating as he pulled. Small clumps of dead hair fell onto the ground before him. Gagging again he slowly sat up, wiping his face roughly. He sniffed hard, pressing his palms into his eyes - trying to stop the flow of tears.

Soft groaning was covered by the young man’s sobs, he didn’t notice the growling and moaning behind him. He didn’t notice the footsteps, and he didn’t notice that his sister was reanimated.

He yelped in fear at the feeling of delicate, cold, and clammy hands against his scalp. He threw himself forward, ignoring that he just fell into a puddle of vomit as he turned around. Slowly he shook his head, his head pulsing with pains in sync with his heart. Hard fast thumping, pumping adrenaline and fear through his body.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His sister stood before him, groaning softly with pale red-yellow eyes. Her fingers twitched erratically, and he could see drops of drool running down her chin. He was almost fool enough to speak up before realizing, realizing that his beloved Vera-shka - the little sister he raised since she was a baby - was dead. He let out a breathy whine, shaking his head as she lunged forward. He kicked out, holding her up with his legs as he held onto her hands.

“Vera! Vera, stop!” He wailed. Her only response to his begging was more growling and hissing, mindlessly snapping her jaws at him. He let out a shaky breath, kicking her to the side with great force, he panted, struggling to crawl away and towards the tool box. The tool box had been knocked over during the first fight, spilling the tools just out of his reach from his current position. He gasped, feeling Vera grab at his ankles. He flips onto his back, watching as Vera bit at his boots savagely. He hesitated for only a second before kicking her, she didn’t budge. “Please, Vera-shka please.” He begged weakly, fumbling behind him for a tool. He kicked her again, throwing her from his feet and breaking her nose in the process.

She growled loudly, standing with a wobble. That's not Vera. Vera is dead. He thought harshly, watching her dead eyes for tears yet none came. She was always a cry baby when it came to pain, she would have passed out on the floor in tears if it was actually her. The thought cleared his mind and his vision blurred as he grabbed a tool from the ground. A pipe wrench, he could only tell by the wight and the weapons red color. Weapon. That's right, it’s his weapon. He grunted with effort, raising the tool - feeling the weight press into his shoulders and arms. It was heavy, heavier than it should have been. He grunted with great effort, his chest tightening painfully as the weight caved in Vera’s skull.

He dropped the tool, breathing hard. He swayed a little with each step, stepping around the body and stumbling back to the house. He wheezed, coughing hard as he stepped into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and quickly threw off his clothes, throwing them across the small room with great anger. Slowly, he turned to his reflection, watching as splattered blood dripped down his chin. He pressed his forehead to the glass, trying to even out his breathing as the room filled with warm mist.

Squeezing his eyes shut didn't help, the image of his undead sister seared his mind's eye like a hot iron. He let out a loud wail, smashing his face into the mirror as hard as he could. The glass shattered, slicing across his forehead to his left eyebrow in one jagged gash. He fell back, holding his face as he whined in pain, immediately regretting acting on his intrusive thoughts.

Scoffing at himself he hobbles his way into the shower, laying back in the tub and letting the burning water pelt his body. He looked up at the ceiling weakly, one eye slightly closed - his vision blurred red. He let out a shaky sigh, running his hands through his (h/c) hair; slicking it back with the water. How was he supposed to explain to his Mama that Vera was dead? How was he supposed to tell his Papa that he had to kill some crazy person? How would he hide it? Could he even hide it?

“I’ve done it before… no, that was different. This is my sister, not some fucking rat.” He muttered to himself, his throat tightening as fear and dread wrapped around him like chains to hell. How was he supposed to fix this?

An hour later, the water had run cold and he had finally mustered the energy to clean off his skin and hair, wincing as the soap got into his blisters and cut. He lazily turned off the water, watching as the reddened water drained. With a huff he slowly climbs out and opens the cabinet, grabbing some gauze, gauze pads, and butterfly stitches. He carefully placed the butterfly stitches along the cut, pulling it together slightly before placing some of the gauze padding. He carefully wrapped the injury, making sure it's nice and tight before tucking the loose end. He took any excess gauze and wrapped his blistered hands, probably best to keep blood and dirt out of the injury.

“I hope this is some fucked dream…” He whispered to himself, wrapping a fluffy towel around himself as he awkwardly waddled out of the bathroom and to his room. Based on the silence, his Mama and Papa weren’t home. Maybe he would have time to bury Vera.

With that idea in mind he was quick to get dressed, wincing as he pulled on his clean shirt and pants, the fabric rubbing against his bandaged hands. He was sore, nauseous, and exhausted; but all the same something inside him told him, he has to bury her. She was his little sister, a literal baby only 14 years ago. He could remember vividly taking care of her when he had just turned eleven and she had come home. It’s only right to bury her. There's no way to contact the police with the line cut.

He grabbed a pair of gloves and carefully fitted them over his bandages, then ran to the garage to grab a shovel - but not before grabbing his pocket knife to be safe.

The shovel rang out a metallic noise as he dragged it behind him, making his way to the heli and his sister’s body. His other hand was occupied with the knife, flipped open and ready to use. He was half expecting those things to be up and moving, he’s seen dead people walk, and at this point he doesn’t even know if that's what he saw.

Once close enough to his sister’s body he was hit with a foul sour odor. The stench of death hung around the heli like a thick fog, he gagged a little, covering his face as he inched closer. Once closer he took a good look at the ‘man’. He was definitely dead, hell he was definitely dead before (Name) got to him. The young man shook his head a little, his eyes burning slightly - whether it was from the smell of rotting flesh or his sister’s death he didn’t know.

“This shit can’t be real.” He muttered, walking a little farther than the heli. He sighed, trying to ignore the smell as he put away his knife and gripped the shovel. As he plunged the tool into the dirt the weight of what went down today rested against his consciousness. His sister was dead. Silent tears burned his eyes as he continued digging, tossing the dirt to the side.

#male reader #the walking dead self insert #the walking dead #male self insert #self insert #slow start #zombies #twd x reader #male reader only #dark story #content warning #warning ⚠️#gay #gay love #mlm only #daryl x male reader

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bugthewitch · 2 years

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move yall theres a new hyperfixation bombarding my life

im already on season 7 and ive been watching it for a month

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead self insert #self insert #zombies #norman reedus #twd #twd insert

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codacheetah · 2 months

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HAHA YES

MORE, MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#codacheetah #my art #isat #in stars and time #isat act 6 spoilers #two hat spoilers #im not tagging the characters these are my cringe collection #i love drawing them in ms paint. the animals #well ok most of these arent ms paint but they are sufficiently low effort #umm context for some of them.#loophal anime was me hijacking them as my self insert bc ppl were being niceys to me #dead sif makes me laugh and i was actually gonna make a bigger drawing but i couldnt bear to edit it #lol short is from the loop sprite sheet i am making #very slowly. because im bad at this and i cant get the walk cycle to not look like SHIT RAHHHHHHH #the brba ones were from a silly silly conversation regarding tealgoats odile loops au i dont remember why we were talking about breaking ba #anyways. i hope you guys like my really bad and awful drawings i thought about breaking this post up but nah. i shant

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grimesgrrl · 8 months

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discipline

a/n: hiii this is my first time writing fic in a long time, so i thought i'd test the waters with a little daryl blurb :3 not nsfw, but i'd be down to make a continuation !! enjoy!! ♡

prompt: can you help me with this zipper?

daryl x fem!reader

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“Daryl,” you breathe out. “I wasn’t expecting you to go to this thing,” you motion towards the house across the way, fully lit up from the inside, muffled voices and laughter seeping out into the quiet night.

“‘M not,” he grumbles. He takes another drag from his cigarette, not looking in your direction. “Just came out for a smoke.” He spares a glance at you, his breath hitching for just a second when he sees the tight dress you have on. You come closer, planting yourself next to him on the porch railing. You both stare at the house across the street. You can’t say you’re too excited about making nice at the local block party, but who were you to say no to free booze?

“You mind?” you ask, motioning to the cigarette resting between his fingers. He shakes his head, letting you take a long drag. He watches your lips wrap around the tube, your head tipping back as you blow the smoke up into the air. It’s dark, but he can still see your silhouette, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you inhale and exhale. You don’t have to look to know he’s staring. You hand back the cigarette, his hand grazing yours. The touch sends a shiver down your spine despite the warm air. You watch his arm flex as he lifts it back to his lips.

You both stay like that for a while, handing the cigarette back and forth until the butt is too small to hold. He drops it to the porch, stomping out the embers with his heel. The silence grew heavy. “You goin’ or what?” he grumbles. You let out a groan as you push yourself off the railing, pulling your dress back down.

“Thanks for the smoke. I owe you.” He nods in approval. As you step forward, he leans towards you, grabbing your wrist.

“Hold up. Your zipper’s down.” The open fabric dipped down to your lower back, your smooth skin and dimples on display. You step back closer to him, close enough to feel his body heat. He holds his breath as he pulls the zipper back up, slowly, stopping before he reaches your hair. He brushes it over your shoulder, your sweet perfume making him dizzy. He takes in the skin of your neck, soft and bare, almost wanting to run his fingers along it. The feeling of his breath on your bare skin feels too good. He takes the zipper up the rest of the way, quickly moving his hands back to his pockets when he’s done.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding at the absence of his touch. “Thanks,” you say, feeling a little tipsy already. “Definitely owe you now. Not sure our new neighbors would be too keen on getting flashed. I’ll sneak you out something to drink?” you offer as you turn back to face him.

“Sure,” he nods. He can’t help but think that the neighbors would not mind the view he just got.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl x reader #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #self insert

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da-owo · 1 month

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drawing myself in twd vs drawing myself in stardew valley XD

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanart #stardew valley #stardew valley fanart #self insert

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liliesdiary · 6 months

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𝔇𝔞𝔶𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔰

Rick Grimes:

Rick Grimes Pops Your Cherry

Shane Walsh:

Shane Walsh Drunk-Hate Fucking You

Shane & Rick:

Living Sex Doll (Shane & Rick)

Cillain Murphy:

Stalker Jackson Rippner

Ghostface:

Please Don't Kill Me Mr Ghostface!

Ghostface's Sex Doll

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fernaldoishere · 2 days

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shipping art with my own self insert and my friend, @clemster's self insert!!!!! YIPPEE!!!! (#1 Dee x Clem shipper btw)

#the walking dead game oc #the walking dead oc #the walking dead game #the walking dead #twdg oc #twd oc #twd #twdg #oc #self shipping #twdg mitch #twdg clementine #twdg oc fern #twdg oc dee #twdg finch #dee x clem #self insert

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other-dixons-wife · 26 days

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(Doodle)

#fanart #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #norman reedus #twd fanart #self insert #art #sketch #artist on tumblr #artist on instagram #artist on deviantart

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donerunning · 7 months

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“Tillie made a self insert to ship with clementine”

Baseless, misogynistic, Predatory lesbian stereotype, unproductive

“Tillie and skybound are using Clems name for money and don’t actually care about the source material or the fans of the game series”

Based in reality, can easily pull examples from the comic, brings up valid criticisms, not incel lingo

#tillie Walden I know you did it for a check but you didn’t have to do all of that #y’all have got to stop with the self insert thing it’s giving early 2010s MaRy SuE energy #you heard domthebomb say it once and never removed that worm from your brain #twdg #the walking dead game #clementine twdg #clementine #clementine book 2 #clementine book 1 #clementine comic #everything makes so much more sense when you realize she’s hitting kirkman up for guidance no wonder Clem got sexualized so fast

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gxodnightkiss · 3 months

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masterlist ･｡.☽ ‧͙⁺˚*

hazbin hotel

coming soon...

helluva boss

"you're in charge, baby." (crimson knolastname x fem! reader)

"blue." (yandere! submissive! striker x dominant! fem! reader)

the walking dead

coming soon...

#x reader #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #self insert #the walking dead #masterlist #drabble #one shot #smut #imagine #fluff #angst #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #helluva boss x y/n #helluva boss x reader

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pretentiousgayguyidk · 1 year

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City of the Dead

Walking Dead fanfic-

Prologue

#male reader #the walking dead self insert #the walking dead #mlm only #twd x reader #twd #twd x male reader #daryl x male reader

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dixonlvr-online · 1 year

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Put your faith in me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, Aaron x Reader (platonic), Father Gabriel x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, really dark scene involving a gun and possible suicide, death, violence, blood, allusions to religious trauma 😜

Genre: Angst, some fluff

Summary: TWD episode 'One More' (10.19) if Reader was there. Plus she's in a relationship with Daryl and wants to get home to him.

A/N: Me: "I'll write a simple fic to get back into writing after my short break!" Me, two hours and 3,000 words later: "...what just happened?"

You hadn’t left things on a good note with Daryl and it was all your mind could focus on.

Tensions were high back home. The two of you had every reason to be upset, what with Alexandria in pieces and your group struggling to put food on the table, but you were usually good about focusing that energy outward instead of in.

Unfortunately, on a particularly hungry night after an exhausting day, you’d had it out about something stupid: him going on the run with Maggie and her team. Of course, you knew Daryl was an invaluable person to have on a run because of his hunting and tracking abilities, and he’d proven time and again he could handle himself in dangerous situations, but you were too tired to think logically.

All you knew was that he had once again put himself at risk and expected you to be okay with it. You never were. You made sure to tell him as much during the argument and he retaliated fiercely. The next morning, after a sleepless night apart from each other, you’d volunteered to head out on a week-long scavenging mission with Aaron and Gabriel.

Now, you trudged alongside them, keeping an eye on the impending darkness. Aaron was clearly tired and eager to head back, but Gabriel insisted the three of you continue. You were torn; this journey had gone longer than you expected and you missed home, but you also knew things with Daryl would be hard when you got back. You nodded in agreement with Gabriel, for now.

Soon enough, you broke into a warehouse for the night. It was roomy, and appeared empty. When you heard a shrill scream, you bolted for the back of the room, nearly colliding with Gabriel in your haste.

There, standing above what looked to be a large pig, was Aaron, covered in blood and panting.

“He- he just came at me,” he gasped. “I- I didn’t have-” Beside you, Gabriel sheathed his machete and stifled a laugh.

“What?” Aaron questioned, evidently noticing Gabriel’s amusement.

Gabriel smiled. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just… that was quite the scream.” You felt yourself smiling now, remembering the high-pitched tone of Aaron’s cry. You lifted a hand to cover your face before Aaron could notice, but he’d already narrowed his eyes at the two of you.

“These things are vicious!” he insisted. You bit back a laugh.

“Clearly,” Gabriel said. “Hence, the scream.” At that, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You tried in vain to cover your laughter, but your full body shakes were a dead giveaway. To your side, Gabriel was laughing too, though he made no effort to hide the reaction.

The two of you were a giggling mess for what seemed like minutes, holding your aching sides in an attempt to pull air and calm yourselves down. When you finally caught your breath, wiping a stray tear from your eye, you pointed to the pig.

“You know what that looks like?” you said. Aaron sent you a look that said, ‘spit it out.’ You grinned. “Dinner.”

Gabriel smiled, reaching into his pocket for something. “And,” he said, revealing a large bottle of whiskey, “drink.”

–

After an enjoyable dinner of roasted boar and “perfect and rare” whiskey (which you admittedly had drunk too much of), the three of you had settled into a card game. You’d folded long ago, mind too fuzzy to understand the game, but you sat back and amused yourself watching Aaron try to decipher Gabriel’s poker face.

“You don’t have it,” he said, eyes burning through the backs of Gabriel’s cards.

“Then call,” Gabriel challenged, surprisingly poised for someone who’d had as much to drink as you had. You grinned at the two men, both trying to drunkenly intimidate the other with their stares. Finally, Aaron folded.

“Many thanks,” Gabriel said, pooling his winnings.

“No no no, show me,” Aaron protested, gesturing to the cards. Gabriel grinned, slowly turning the cards to reveal his 2 and 8. Aaron groaned.

“Who knew Father Gabriel was such a hustler?” you laughed, lifting a hand to fist bump him. Gabriel met your hand, the two of you grinning while Aaron scoffed.

You stood from your seat, legs wobbling as you tried to focus your vision. It had been a long time since you’d drunk this much, you couldn’t remember the feeling. Well, that wasn’t true. You just didn’t want to think about the last time you’d been drunk, the man drinking with you. You shook away the thought.

“I need to lay down,” you said, pushing away from the table. Aaron stood next to you, pausing a moment to get his bearings, then pointed between the shelves.

“I saw some bean bags down there,” he said. You nodded, heading the direction he indicated.

Soon enough, all three of you were flopped down on the bean bags, staring up at the dark ceiling as your heads swirled from whiskey. Gabriel shared a story about his first training as a priest, how he learned to embrace one-on-one time with people in order to connect.

“You need to start preaching again,” Aaron insisted.

You nodded, chiming in. “Yeah, Gabey, you were so good at it! Well, you sound like you were good at it. I guess I never really saw ya. But I’ve met some priests in my day and I can tell you were a good one,” you said, alcohol causing you to ramble. Gabriel sat up then, to face you.

“Were you religious before?” he asked. You closed your eyes, words spinning in your head. Slowly, you nodded.

“Yeah. But I was never really…into it, the way most people are,” you explained. “Didn’t go to church much, wasn’t good at the social part. My family was religious though, so I had to be part of it.”

You thought back to your experiences before, of going to church only when your family insisted and finding it too overwhelming to enjoy. Religion had always been a complicated aspect of your life, one you struggled to make your own. If you weren’t adept at the performance, were you doing it right?

Your best religious “experience” had been back at the church near the Greene farm, one your group had stumbled into on the search for Sophia. You’d felt it, then, the energy of it all. Away from the eyes of your family, your peers. With people you trusted, instead.

You felt yourself smile at the best part of that memory, when Daryl sat next to you on a bench. You two weren’t close yet, but you already trusted him with your life. No words were spoken then, just two people soaking in the moment, thoughts elsewhere, together.

You’d turned to him at some point, studying him. At that moment, you knew.

“I don’t believe in that stuff anymore. Don’t need to,” you told Gabriel and Aaron. “I believe in my people, now. My family.” I believe in Daryl.

It was silent for a minute, the three of you lost in your own thoughts, when Aaron broke the silence.

“Gonna go piss,” he said, stumbling away. You laughed, turning your head into the bean bag. You snuggled in deeper, closing your eyes and preparing for sleep. Tomorrow, you would insist on heading home. It had been too long and you knew you needed to see Daryl. Tomorrow, you thought. Tomorrow.

–

Of course, things didn’t work out the way you’d planned. Instead of an early morning start to the journey back, you’d awoken to find a man in the warehouse, pointing a gun at you and Gabriel, with Aaron nowhere to be found.

He’d eaten some of your boar, made threats, brought Aaron out from where he’d stashed him, a gash on his forehead and metal arm detached, and now you were all here: at the very same table you’d played cards at the night before, prepared to die at this mystery man’s hands.

You pulled your eyes from the gun on the table, which he’d loaded with one bullet. He was clearly insane, telling you all to choose whether you shot yourselves or each other, with a one in six chance of survival per trigger pull. You glanced at Gabriel, who shook his head, warning you not to try anything.

“We can make this right, get you a new boar,” Aaron tried, but the man cut him off.

“This isn’t about the boar,” he said, lifting the gun higher.

“Then what is it about?” Gabriel asked. The man turned, fixing him with a fierce stare.

“Enlightenment,” he said. You shuddered, knowing by the look on his face that this wouldn’t end well for someone. “Go ahead,” the man said, gesturing to the gun.

You glanced at your companions, Gabriel’s eyes fixed on the gunman, Aaron’s on the table. You closed your eyes, breathing in deep at the thought of what you were about to do. You thought about Daryl, about seeing him again. Then you thought about him at this table, what he would do if he were in your shoes.

You reached for the gun, lifting it to your head and pulling the trigger before anyone could react. Click, it sounded. You breathed a sigh of relief, a tear trickling down your face.

You opened your eyes, meeting Aaron’s shocked ones. Turning away, you faced the gunman, his eyes glowing with hunger.

“Happy now?” you growled. He shook his hand, grabbing the gun from your hand and placing it in front of Gabriel.

“You next,” he said. Gabriel met your eyes, his holding a firm resolve. You knew he was trying not to think about Rosita and Coco, his family, just as you’d tried not to think of Daryl as you pulled the trigger. You lifted your chin, hoping he understood your meaning.

If only two of you were going to make it, it had to be the fathers. Daryl would understand.

Gabriel lifted the gun, hand shaking as he pulled it closer to his head.

“Gabriel,” you said, voice low. He looked at you one last time, smiling grimly, before pressing the barrel to his head and squeezing. Click. Once again, that sound. No bullet. Gabriel visibly relaxed, dropping the gun to the table.

“Why are you doing this?” Aaron asked, voice quivering. The gunman turned, surveying him.

“What happened to your arm?” he countered in lieu of an answer. Aaron pulled in a breath.

“It was crushed in a construction accident,” he said. The gunman turned to Gabriel.

“Who blinded you?” he asked, nodding to Gabriel’s milky eye.

“No one. It was an infection,” Gabriel said. Finally, the man turned to you.

“And you? What about that cut on your face?”

You reactively held a hand up to your cheek, running a finger down the old wound. It had been years since you’d acquired it, when a run-in with walkers went bad.

“Walkers. Not people,” you said, glaring up at the man. “What? You wanted to hear that someone sliced my face open? Plucked his eye out and chopped his arm off? Why? To prove how evil man is? You really think we’re going to shoot each other? We’re family. Family protects each other-”

“Quiet!” the man cut you off, pushing the gun toward Aaron. “You. Go.”

You watched as Aaron slowly reached for the gun, lifting it and cocking it back. Click. You flinched, knowing what that sound meant. Aaron knew too, evident by the grimace on his face.

“Hear that? Makes a different sound when the chamber loads,” the gunman said. “You’ve got a choice to make, son.”

You felt more tears coming, leaning forward to urge Aaron’s eyes to meet your own. He averted his, knowing what you wanted. Your throat closed, eyes switching back and forth between Aaron, the gunman, and Gabriel.

Aaron raised his eyes to face the man. “We’re not thieves and murderers. We don’t kill each other. We protect each other, like she said,” he nodded to you.

“What, like family? Family don’t mean nothing. You wanna see your family again? Shoot one of them right now,” the man urged, raising his gun to Aaron. “What about Gracie? Don’t you want to see her again?”

Aaron’s hand shook as he lifted the gun, tears streaming down his face. The man kept yelling, urging him on, and before you could leap forward and grab the pistol from Aaron’s hand, the gunman miraculously yelled stop.

Aaron froze, lowering the gun. You turned to the man, confused.

“This is who people are!” he shouted, pointing to his face. “This is what people do!”

“You’re wrong. People can change. People can be good,” you said, voice firm with new resolve. You thought of Daryl, how distant and cold he’d been in the beginning, but never wavering in his loyalty to the group. You thought of Aaron, who’d been a stranger when you met, hopelessly convincing you all to trust him. You thought of Gabriel, who did horrible things to survive and still managed to find his way.

“You just need to have faith in the right ones.”

The gunman shook at your words, eyes flicking between the three of you in panic. Aaron dropped the gun, raising his hands up as a show of peace.

“You can come back with us. We have a community. We’re good people,” he told the man. You watched as he lowered the gun, eyes dropping to the floor as he considered the proposal. The three of you held your breaths as he debated, pulling in breath after shaky breath.

Finally, with tears in his eyes, he holstered his rifle and the gun on the table. You watched as he stepped toward Aaron, untying his hands. To your left, you saw Gabriel rising to his feet and mimicked him, eyes caught on Aaron’s metal arm, still unattached to the side.

Before you thought it through, you’d grabbed the arm and plunged it into the gunman’s skull, his blood spraying across your face as his body thudded to the floor. You heaved a breath, staring at his lifeless body.

A hand found your shoulder and you flinched. Gabriel, eyes studying yours. You straightened slowly, handing the arm back to a shell shocked Aaron.

“We couldn’t let him come back with us. He was crazy,” you said, voice shaking. Aaron nodded, averting his eyes.

The three of you packed up your things in silence, preparing to make the journey home. Your hands still shook from what you’d done. You could feel his blood on your skin.

It was odd, this feeling. Knowing you had taken a life, once again. It wasn’t new to you, which was even scarier. For some reason, though, this time felt different.

“You alright?” Gabriel’s voice broke you from your thoughts. You nodded, trying for a smile.

“Yeah. Just want to get home,” you said. Back to Daryl, back to your home. The thought of collapsing into his arms was the only thing pressing you forward.

“Alright, then let’s go,” Gabriel said. The three of you walked out of the warehouse, none of you looking back.

–

The gates of Alexandria creaked open upon your arrival. You breathed a sigh of relief when you stepped inside, the air familiar and comforting, though the damage from the Whisperers was still evident.

With a few last pats on the arm, you parted from Aaron and Gabriel, heading straight for home. As you approached the stairs to the basement, you felt yourself stop. There he was, sitting on the steps, fiddling with something in his hands. You dropped your bag with a thud and he turned.

“Hi,” you said, voice breaking. Daryl jumped and reached for you, catching you before you fell. You collapsed into his arms, sobs wracking your whole body. He held you closer, a hand rubbing your back as you let out all the emotions you’d built up the past couple of weeks.

“It’s alrigh,’ I got ya now,” he hummed, the lull of his voice pulling you closer. You wrapped both arms around him, head buried in his shoulder, breathing him in. Never again did you want him far from you.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry,” you said. Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, looking down at you.

“What’re ya sorry for? Done nothin’ wrong,” he said. You shook your head.

“I’m sorry for fighting with you over something stupid. Sorry for running away after.”

Daryl smiled gently, lifting your chin so he could kiss you. You leaned into the kiss, savoring the moment after so long. He pulled away and pressed his lips to your forehead instead.

“Like I said. Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. You were worried ‘bout me is all. I get it. I was worried about ya too, on this trip,” he said. You nodded, his words ringing true. “It’s our job to protect each other. Worryin’s part of the package, I guess.”

You smiled, lifting your palm to his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes staring deeply into yours. He mimicked your action, hand tracing the scar on your cheek as you warmed at the touch.

“I love you. That means I’m going to worry about you, yes, but I need you to know that it’s not because I don’t trust you,” you said. Daryl nodded in understanding.

“I know,” he said. “I trust ya, too. Tha’s why I knew ya were comin’ back.”

You smiled. “I believe in you, Daryl Dixon. More than anyone.”

With that, you pulled him in for another hug, sinking into him, trusting him to hold you up. He was your temple, your church, your choir, and your gospel. Everything you needed to believe in was right here.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd x reader #the walking dead #twd #self insert

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forgetminot · 1 year

Text

MASTERLIST

♡ Fluff ✷Angst メDeath ✧Smut ✿My Favourites

Leon Kennedy

Three Questions - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ♡✷

Talk To Me - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ♡✷✿

Be Careful - Leon Kennedy x Ashley Graham ♡✷

Till Death Do Us Part - Leon Kennedy x gn reader (Based on Corpse Bride) ✷メ

Promise - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ✷✷メ

Teach Me - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ♡

Trust Me - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ✷♡

Broken - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ✷✷

Egg? Egg. - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ♡

Promises And Excuses - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ♡♡✿

Safe And Sound - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ✷♡

Home Sweet Home - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ♡♡

Bubble Bath - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ♡♡✿

All For You - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ✷♡♡

Aftercare - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ✧♡♡

A Familiar Face - Leon Kennedy x gn reader ✷

Arthur Morgan

A Quick Sketch - Arthur Morgan x gn reader ♡♡

Sharing Cigarettes - Arthur Morgan x gn reader ♡♡

Distant Memory - Arthur Morgan x female reader ♡✷✿

Paranormal - Arthur Morgan x gn reader ✷

Daryl Dixon

My Hero - Daryl Dixon x gn reader ♡♡✷

Please Don't Go - Daryl Dixon x gn reader ✷✷メ

Dean Winchester

All Of You - Dean Winchester x male reader ♡♡

I Don't Bite - Dean Winchester x male reader ♡✷

Rick Grimes

Stay With Me - Rick Grimes x gn reader ✷✷

I'm Not Going Anywhere - Rick Grimes x gn reader ✷♡

Incorrect Quotes

Incorrect Quotes - The Walking Dead Edition

Incorrect Quotes - Resident Evil Edition

Incorrect Quotes - Resident Evil Edition Pt.2

Incorrect Quotes - Leon Kennedy x Y/n Edition

Incorrect Quotes - Leon Kennedy x Y/n Edition Pt.2

Incorrect Quotes - Stranger Things Edition

Incorrect Quotes - Leon Kennedy x Y/n Edition Pt.3

Incorrect Quotes - Arthur Morgan x Y/n Edition

Incorrect Quotes - Red Dead Redemption Edition

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littlesugarwords · 8 months

Note

I would die for some Luke, Pete, and Nick x reader (separate, romantic) of them getting separated in a dire situation, and readers "last words" being some variation of "find me in the next life in case I don't make it" or "please allow me to become your wife in the next life" but the MAKE IT n meet again later on and they're like "Soo..." :3 idk!!! Lol

omg omg omg omg you’re killing me here I LOVE THIS.

these are gonna be longer so check them out under the cut :) these took me so long to craft omg

Luke: “Damnit,” Luke drilled his fist into the dirt. The burning in his lungs didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Luke, you couldn't have--” “I know.” Luke snapped, refusing to lift his head. It had all happened too fast for any of them to see it. A wall crumbled, splitting their group in two. The groups scrambled, attempting to move mounds of cement, sharp wood, and dangerous debris. The moment they spotted each other through the wall, Luke and Y/N sighed. “Thank God,” they said in sync. But, like a curse, the wall groaned on Luke’s side. The growls of approaching walkers loomed. Their eyes snapped back together. “We can work fast.” “Y/N,” Luke said, trying to stop them. “It took us this long to get this far. We don’t have enough time.” “No.” Y/N attempted to claw at the rubble, wanting to break down the wall, but Luke’s desperate pleading made them stop. “Y/N, please.” He said, eyes wide. He was terrified. Y/N was too. They both knew. “Just,” he groaned, feeling as though his heart was falling apart inside him. “Just, please,” he took a deep breath. “Just be my wife. In our next lives. Alright?” Y/N eyes widened, tears swelling. Before they could speak, the wall crumbled, entrapping Luke and his group within the infested area. Y/N collapsed and creamed, hearing the muffled ground and wails from the other side. The world was so silent and loud at the same time. Y/N was broken.

It has been months, but it feels like years. Every day dragged on, and the unknown was eating Y/N alive. Knowing that they left Luke back there? That they left those monsters to eat him alive while they just stood there? On the other side of a wall listening? They hated themselves for letting it happen. But then, out of nowhere one day, wandering in the woods for firewood, their group heard something. Just as quickly as Y/N’s group aimed, a voice called out through the brush. “Y/N?” They turned, and locked eyes with Luke, only a few feet away, standing in the rocky forest path. “Luke?” They took a step forward - or tried to - but collapsed to their knees, eyes welling up. Luke darted for them, abandoning every weapon he was holding. He crashed to his knees, enveloping his arms around Y/N, eyes teary and chest tight. Y/N clamored at his back, clutching his shirt. “Am I dreaming?” Y/N asked, throat tightening. “No,” Luke hushed, stroking at their back and hair. “It’s real.” After a beat of weepy sobs and tight clutches, Luke spoke. “Do you remember what I asked?” He whispered into the side of their hair, fingers brushing through it. Y/N laughed and nodded, tears already rolling. “Of course I do.” Was all they could whisper back, pulling away to hold his face in their hands. They had barely finished what they were saying before Luke crashed his lips onto theirs.

Nick: Nick knew they were in a pinch, but this time? This time it was really bad. The shack they were staying in was starting to crumble from the weight of walkers outside, and the two were backed into a - literal - corner. They had members of their group reaching from the other side of the cabin, both branching off in entirely different directions. Neither of them had any idea where each of them were going, but they knew it wasn’t going to be together. “Y/N,” he said, calling them the nickname he had always called them - a way he tried to build rapport when they were new to the group - when he felt Y/N’s panicked and knowing gaze settle on him. Nick gulped. “Wait for me in the next life, okay?” Y/N felt a wail swell in their throat. Before they knew it, Nick felt a tug on his arm, ripping him out of the shack, just as a desperate “Please!” ripped from his lips. They didn’t offer him a chance to slow down or stop. Suddenly, Y/N was gone, and Nick, once again, felt like his heart had been abandoned in the snow.

Nick had turned into a ghost of himself in the years that passed. He wandered meaninglessly - like a ghost - wherever what remained of their group wanted to go. It wasn’t until they caught wind of a survivors camp based a few miles off that Nick would eventually feel some sense of joy again. The moment they were allowed in, they were scoured for bites or infections. The moment they passed through, they were to be given rooming assignments. That process was run by Y/N. The two turned around, as if fate had placed them there, and locked eyes. The two stared in silence as the shocked murmurs fluttered around them. “It’s you?” Nick asked, dumbfounded. Y/N slowly smiled, shaking their head in disbelief. “Only if that’s you,” Y/N said softly. It felt as though they didn’t hesitate any time before wrapping each other up in their arms. Nick even swung them off the ground, burying his face into their neck. His wish had come true. It was a new life - for the both of them - and they had waited for each other. ‘Do you remember--” “Yes,” was all Nick said, before leaning in for a kiss.

Pete: Their last moments were brief, fleeting, but devastating. Y/N reached out, attempting to grab his hand and pull him up onto the landing. A swarm of walkers lurched on below, but the rest of the group was pleading for Y/N to hurry. More were on their floor, closing in, and they didn’t have much time. “Hun,” Pete said, voice low. Despite the noise, it felt like it was just the two of them. “Just let me be with you, still, in your next life. Okay? Wait for me.” Y/N’s eyes slowly widened, putting the pieces together. “Pete--” Suddenly, the balcony gave way, and Y/N’s was yanked back before they could crumble with it. Pete, luckily, managed to snag onto a loose pole, clinging to a nearby loft, and managed to avoid the warm below. Somehow, he had managed to get away, to escape death one time. Possibly, one last time. But now, fleeing from the crumbling building, he glanced around and saw no one. Once again, he was alone.

It had been almost a year since the incident, and Pete became a changed man. A hardened man. Prior to losing Y/N, he was good at rolling with the punches. After losing them, it was as though Pete couldn’t bear to fight anymore. The light had long left his eyes, until one rainy day in the fall. They were taking cover in an abandoned gas station and hears rustling in the back. Weapons armed, their small group started forward. “We don’t want any trouble,” “Please,” a weak voice wavered from the back. Pete’s head snapped up. “Neither do I.” Wait. The gears were turning for Pete. Wait. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Pete abandoned his gun and stormed into the back. “Pete!” The group called, astounded as to his reckless behavior. He threw the door to the back room open and there, on the floor, was Y/N. They were drenched in water, shaking from head to toe, and meekly glanced up at - what they thought - was to be a stranger. Their eyes widened the instant they met Pete’s. “Y/N?” He asked, voice breathy. Reality was coming to him slowly, bit by bit, then crashing into him one by one. He threw himself to his knees, wrapping the freezing human in his arms. “Oh my God,” he breathed, clutching their back and hair. “I can’t believe I found you.” “I thought you were dead,” Y/N managed out between shaky breaths. Pete pulled away, holding their arms, studying them. “You’re freezing,” he said under his breath, ripping his coat off and wrapping it tightly around them. “Pete,” Y/N said softly, calling to him as loudly as they could. “I waited. Pete smiled, misty eyed. The rest of his group were bustling around them, but Pete didn’t care. Right then, it was just the two of them, as he pulled them in closer.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

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