#yandere Carl grimes x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

little-reader · 1 year

Text

“The Son of A Monster” Ch. 2

Masterlist

Carl grimes x Male!Reader

Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The people talked. They looked, and glared, but didn’t have the guts to say it to your face. And since you were there to watch Carl, you lived with rick. On the couch, that's the place you said you would sleep. He gave you a blanket and a pillow that night, not speaking at all.

You sighed and laid back on the pillow that was stiff and uncomfortable. You shifted. You shifted and shifted, and shifted before sighing and stung up, throwing your legs off of the couch and over. You took your shirt off and stood, cracking your neck. This is how you slept most of the time.

You walked on the porch, around this time it was cold outside, leaving your skin a breeze of chills. Sitting on the porch steps, you picked up your boot and reached inside, grabbing the pack of cigarettes. You grabbed the lighter from the other and lit the cigarette. You breathed in and closed your eyes, dropping your head and breathing out.

You hummed, looking at the sky. You sing a nursery rhyme your mother used to sing to you. She always told it to you, to get you to sleep, your panic attacks, anxiety, little things like that. Or she just sang it because she liked it... “There once was an ugly duckling…” You whispered. “With feathers so stubby and brown.” You smiled and sighed. Deciding not to finish the old song. You got up, walking barefoot around the neighborhood.

(Next)

That morning Simon picked you up to go to the hilltop. He was running the shots there now, and you were the picker. That means, you decided, not Simon. He ran the people, you ran him. You walked into the old museum and got introduced to Gregory. Your people started to spread around, as Simon put his hands on his hips.

“Hello!” Gregory said. Nodding

“Hello, your Gregory.” He stated, looking at the man.

“Guity as charged.” He said, walking to the center of the room. “Welcome to hilltop Colony.”

You huffed, looking at the place and the decorations. “Thank you,” Simon said, going up the stairs halfway and looking around. “You, uh, make yourself at home,” Gregory said.

“This isn’t a social call.” He said, coming back down the stairs. Gregory stuttered, denying what Simon said. “We need to talk.” He said with a smile. “And it's getting a little claustrophobic in here, right?” Gregory awkwardly nodded. “Let's talk in your study, I want to see that painting.” He said, looking upstairs. “Can’t remember who told me about it, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter much anymore. Don’t know if you heard what happened.” He said

“W- What happened?” You rolled your eyes, waiting patiently for him to hurry with his conversation.

“Well, those people you used to deal with. Our brothers and sisters in arms and operation, well, they’ve been removed from the field of play.” Simon said, looking around. You watched Gregory pet his white beard and look confused. Now if that wasn’t sketchy. He knew something. Your head tilted as you thought.

They both continued to talk in the study, you following behind him and the men outside the room.

You sat in the chair as Simon went about the painting and Gregory kissing his ass like it was black Friday.

You waited, as he kept talking, then stopped. “Simon, get to the point. I'm not in the mood for you blathering.” You said. Stabbing your knife on the table. “And get your feet out of my face.”

Gregory looked at you in school. “That’s a little rude for a kid.” He said, making you smile.

Simon leaned forward, moving his feet and going over to you. “Ah, you have introduced ourselves to Y/n. He’s my boss. Or well, the head boss’s, Negan's kid.” He said, watching Gregory's face drop. “He’s your Negan for now, and I’m also Negan when he’s not here.”

You stood, “Get finished here, I’m taking dan’s bike.”

“Ah, dan bike is down, we have enough room in the Negan truck, but you’ll have to ride back with us.” You huffed and left, a few men trailing behind you as they carried things around. You walked around the walls, feeling the bark and wood on your fingertips. You leaned down, watching the wind blow slightly on the flowers. You picked the purple flower from the ground and shoved it in your pocket, leaving for the truck as they called for you.

You started driving, only to get stuck all night on the road because of a walker. You snuck to the back of the truck in the middle of the night, just to sleep and pick through the boxes for something to eat. You awoke with the sound of people whispering and the truck moving. You rubbed your eyes before squinting. “Hey-” Your mouth was instantly covered by a hand, you pushed the man away, looking Carl in the eyes… eye.

“Hush!”

“Shut up!” Carl said, pointing a knife at you. You yelled in the other man's hand, shoving him off of you before grabbing your knife and trying to grab him, he turned and threw you off your feet and onto the outside ground. “Fuck!” You yelled as you watched the truck speed away.

You were fucked. You checked the trucks around the place you were dropped, one you found that worked, but barely. You made it halfway before it broke down and ran the rest of the way. By the time you got there, there were men on the floor being cleaned up, and your father “Delt” With it, bullshit.

You walked the stairs until you reached, what others called, the “Whore house”. You pushed open the door and stepped inside before looking around. “You bitch.” You said, pointing at him before stalking over to him, grabbing his collar, and ignoring your dad.

“Now, now! He is a Guest!” He said, Looking at you strangely.

“He kicked me out of your fuckin’ truck.” You said, wiping the dirt off your shirt, which was in fact ripped into shreds. “Look at this shit.” You mumbled, taking it off and throwing it at your dad.

“Go to the infirmary, get those looked at.” He said, looking over the room. “And take Iris with you.” Iris, a girl your age, was something Negan set up for you. She was your wife, and your dad insisted more but you refused, most of the girls here were either much younger or much older. Plus they weren’t your type.

“C’mon babe,” you said, heading out the door with her following closely. She hung on your arm loosely as you passed by other saviors bowing their heads at you. Like the others, she wore a black dress to show off her body, and ballet flats along with see-through stockings with small pink flowers sown into them.

You knocked on the doctor's door, coming in without a second thought. “Hey doc, I need you to check on a few of these cuts, Do you mind.” You didn’t need to ask, all you had to do was sit and wait. You looked over to Iris who was patiently waiting for you to finish and sat on the bench nearest to you. “I want you to come with me, there are nice people there, plus new friends.” You spoke up, looking her in the eye and she looked up hesitantly. “You can bring your things too, I might know someone you can stay with. Plus, you cont have to dress like that all the time. Jeans, t-shirts, button-ups, things like that.

She only nodded, looking at the doctor before looking down. You sighed as the doctor finished and sent you on your way. Well, your way down to the “Hell Fire”. It's a nickname you and a few others use. A man was strapped to the chair, you knew him, though you didn't care. Iris looks into your chest as your dad put the iron to the man's face. You rubbed her shoulders as you stared, not at the man or negan, but at carl. The grimace and slight anger in his features.

The man passed out in his chair as your dad laughed and mocked him. “Go get your things ready, there's a suitcase in my closet,” you said, she nodded and left. You walked over to Negan as he talked to Carl and a few of the men. “What are you gonna do with him?” You asked, interrupting his conversation.

“Well, I'm gonna take him home.” He said. “And you, plus, he’s your responsibility.” You looked at carl and then Negan.

“That’s bullshit.” You muttered and started to leave. Your father grabbed your sleeve.

“You don’t talk to me like that boy.” He said, shoving up back. You glared at him and left out to the trucks and helped started them while getting your motorcycle.

“Hey pal, your Wifey's coming.” Said one of the men. She came with two suitcases and a backpack.

“Hey,” You said, lifting the two cases into the trucks and sliding them back. “Your riding with me, I don’t exactly trust those men.” You said. “Nor my father.”

“Okay.” She simply stated. You helped her onto the bike and placed the helmet on her head and turned the engine on, driving out into the roads.

Chapter 3

153 notes · View notes

carlsdarling · 7 months

Text

Tags: @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @tessasweet @knochentrocken0808 @xxcarlswifexx

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes imagines #carl fanfiction #carl grimes smut #carl grimes x yandere!reader #she wolf

15 notes · View notes

yanxidarlings · 2 months

Text

YANDERE TWD

REUNITED (yandere! big brother! merle dixon x male reader x yandere! big brother daryl dixon) (yandere! gareth x male reader) (rick grimes x male reader if you squint) NOTES: fair warning, this is some descriptive disturbing shit merle dixon counts as a warning on his own as well. this went in many directions i originally set out for yandere headcanons for the two, then got into the terminus arc, and ended with some pretty vague alluding to yandere. might write a part two)

imagine obsessive! possessive! big brothers! merle and daryl dixon. the dead begin to walk and they keep the darlin safe, meeting up with the atlanta camp. but the brothers won't let anyone get close to the darlin, not dale, not carl, certainly not shane or lori.

somehow, the darlin ends up going with glenn into the city on a supply run, only for it to go horribly wrong. the darlin insisted they head into a chemist to "look for medications" in case anyone in the camp needed them. but it was a lie. the darlin just wanted to find something to help merle with the inevitable withdrawal he'd go through once his supply of drugs ran out. the chemist is overrun by walkers but the darlin insists. "we can clear it!" they say to glenn "it'll be worth it for m- everyone" the korean gave the other a skeptical look. in the end, there was just too many, glenn thought he saw the darlin go down and reluctantly returned to camp.

"oi! shitface, you think you're a big boy now? can do whatever you want now everything's gon' to shit!" the raspy, harsh voice of merle dixon echoed through the camp. the redneck tramped over to the SUV glenn was parking. he remained silent as he turned the engine off. taking a deep breath, the young man exited the car, staring at the grass.

the older dixon stormed over, aggressively opening every door of the vehicle until he reached the boot. filled with supplies. "where the fuck is m/n" he growled, coming closer to the asian "he better be pullin up in another car" merle spat out. "i- it was" glenn stuttered out, looking like he was about to piss his pants "it wasn't my fault, m/n was being reckless, i had no cho-" CRACK glenn's face was soon bloodied and bruised, merle now on top of him, yelling out profanities as he beat the younger man. "merle!" the others quickly ran to pull the redneck off glenn.

"you fucking ch*ng-ch*ng bastard i'll rip-" merle was pried off glenn, who was now rolling around in agony, his face a bloody mess. "what the fuck happen'd" merle rasped out, although to glenn it sounded like a croak "where is he" merle was still being held back by t-dog and shane as he continued yelling. glenn avoided the rednecks furious gaze "the walkers got him" he finally spoke, looking down.

for a moment it looked like merle was about to cry, for a moment merle himself thought he was going to burst into tears like a sissy. "no he ain't" but instead he picked up his shotgun, and got into the drivers seat of the SUV.

that was how andrea, t-dog, jackie, glenn and morales ended up in the city. that was how merle got handcuffed to a roof by "officer friendly" and that was why daryl yelled in agony on that same roof. in the course of a day, he had lost the two most important people in his life.

but merle had survived by cutting off his left hand, and the darlin had survived by covering himself in walker guts.

"china- no- glenn- don't- help!" the h/c-et screamed, the sound of his own gun firing defeaning his ears. as one went down, another lunged at him, rotten teeth clanking together, desperately trying to knaw into his flesh. but he wouldn't die here. he couldn't. not when merle was 'relying' on him to get drugs. maybe then, the dixons would start to treat him as less of a clueless child and more of an equal.

after taking down a few, m/n jumped behind the counter, rummaging through the medications, looking for anything that might help with the withdrawal, or better, give merle his next fix. more of the dead came at him, but he just kept shooting, stabbing, hitting, anything to cause the fatal damage needed to end the dead's miserable 'life'.

BANG one was down BANG another BANG BANG BANG .. the slide didn't move forward as he shot his way through another round. shit. he was out of ammo "glenn!" he yelled out as a walker fell on top of him, wrestling it's way closer to his skin. all the korean could hear was m/n's screaming. which only attracted more walkers. he saw the medicine that m/n had thrown over the counter before going down, stuffing it into his bag, he creeped up closer to the group of walkers that had acculumated, following the sound of m/n's scream. until it stopped. "m/n?" he uttered under his breath, but the pile of walkers on top of each other told him the other was dead. with tears in his eyes, glenn ran out.

m/n struggled against the strength of the walker. it was freshly turned, he could tell. otherwise it wouldn't be so strong. kicking, punching, reaching for his knife, anything to save himself from becoming one of them. plunging his blade into the side of the walkers head, he quickly slit the once-man's throat. covering his face in the blood. before moving down to the abdomen. cutting it open, letting the walkers rotting insides pour out all over him, the ones that had piled on top soon couldn't distinguish the smell of living flesh from rotting blood.

he went silent, breathing shallowly, hoping, praying, they'd move off him and he could silently slip out. but when he was finally free of the chemist, glenn, the supplies they had gathered, and the SUV were gone.

he walked the dead-ridden streets of the once bustling city, covered in blood, hidden in plain sight. he kept walking (which then turned into a limp after getting hit in the ankle by a flying bullet) becoming weaker with each step, hoping to make his way back to camp. only to come to the end of the trainline leading into suburban atlanta. TERMINUS the building read "those who arrive survive" he heard a feminine voice call out from the speakers. maybe they have gauze. he glanced down at his leg, the sleeve of his shirt he had tied around it now dyed red.

"community for all; sanctuary for all" he saw a young man- perhaps just a little older than m/n was, staring down at him from the window. something felt amiss, off, but m/n had lost so much blood he didn't care. he stumbled towards the train station, stopping and starting as he debated his decision.

daryl, merle.. they'll be wondering he thought to himself, stopping for the 5th time, but i won't make it back he began walking again but they'll be looking for me he stopped, nearly tripping but the sudden lack of motion if i found this place they'll find it too he picked up the pace again, frantically moving towards the gates but- as he stopped himself once more, he finally tripped over. right onto the walker trap the train people had set up. his left ribcage was pierced by the sharp metal pole sticking out of the ground, causing the h/c-et to let out a loud screech.

before he knew it people had come out, the same man that had stared at him through the window moments earlier put his hand on the wound, causing m/n to flinch "we're you trying to get yourself killed?" the man mused, seemingly unphased by the active bleeding out that was happening in front of him. the man spoke more words that were muffled as m/n fell out of consciousness.

it was pitch black when he opened his eyes. not a shred of light to allude to the location. pitch black. m/n's hands brushed her his torso, feeling the gauze that was tightly wrapped around his chest. it all came back to him. the chemist, the walkers, glenn, the train people. he shifted his arms, feeling the thin material he was lated on, and the cold metal it covered. attempting to hoist himself up, pain shot through his body.

letting out a groan, he laid back down, closing his eyes. is this death. it certainly felt like it. the nothingness, the pain, it was all he had ever imagined death to be like. what felt like hours passed, the nothingness was almost comforting, how long had it been since he could lay like this and do nothing with no worries. it was all ended when the creaking of the door signaled to m/n that he was not in-fact dead.

the sudden brightness was blinding "you awake?" a masculine voice spoke. m/n's eyes began burning from the light, "i guess" he replied quietly, his eyes closing. "good" the male put down a plate next to where m/n laid "eat up. i know this isn't the warmest welcome, i would have liked to show you around first" the man chuckled, leaning down, seemingly to get a good look at m/n.

the man- who introduced himself as gareth, began speaking about the community- terminus. that they did whatever they had to for survival, that m/n would have to prove himself loyal if he wanted to become apart of the community. he wasn't sure how to tell this gareth guy that he was leaving as soon as possible to find his group.

the discussion started off normal as m/n finished his food, until gareth started talking about how lonely he was, as the leader of this terminus community. it only got creepier as gareth started to call m/n pretty boy, edging closer to him. m/n doesn't want to know what would have happened if that middld aged lady (gareth's mother), hadn't called the man away.

it quickly became evident to m/n that he was never going to leave. gareth locked him in the pitch black train car for hours on end, opening the door when there were armed men to prevent m/n from trying anything. gareth would sit with him and talk, running his hands over the male's body, stealing kisses, it was a reprehensive routine m/n had become forcibly accustomed to.

it all changed the day the hunters attacked. m/n was in his train car, as usual, listening to the outside screams, wondering if the attackers were dead or alive. he knew they were alive when one pried open the train car door, and threw them self on him. he was then thrown into a cramped train car with other terminus residents, where the hunters hand picked who to assault and slaughter each day. he and gareth spent their days huddled up together, talking about their lives before. had m/n not accepted the hunters offer to leave the train car if he worked for them, gareth wouldn't have lost his mind. but m/n was desperate to get away. from the train car. from terminus. to find his family.

but the hunters caught him trying to leave. they did their absolute worst to him and then threw him back in. when the termites took back terminus, gareth locked the leader of the hunters and m/n into the same train car. "this is what you deserve" he told him, before locking the door shut.

perhaps it was years, perhaps it was months, maybe it was only a few hours. the horrors of the train car began to unfold, as the man who had once led the attack on terminus lost his mind: pouncing on m/n at random, screaming for hours straight, trying to eat m/n alive when they'd be deprived of food, ripping his ear off in hungered insanity. as m/n laid there bleeding from his ear, he decided either i escape or i die. had running worked before? no. was he willing to die trying? not really, but a man would do anything for freedom, and that's what m/n did.

the hunter had fallen asleep, a fatal mistake, as m/n wrapped his hands around the mans unshaven neck and squeezed. within second the man awoke but m/n was relentless, not letting go until the other went limp. i just have to wait now he cried to himself, hands shaking. calming, he began to strip the man of his clothes and use the fabric to restrain his limbs.

waiting for the termites to open the door with the meal made of human flesh felt like an eternity. the familiar sound of metal scratching and creaking filled m/n's ear, who quickly sprung into action.

grabbing the reanimated hunter by the hair, he guided it in the direction of the door, throwing it towards the woman holding their plates. she screeched as the hunters corpse sank it's teeth into her flesh, blood pouring from the wound.

m/n grabbed the woman's gun and bolted as the nearby workers aimed their guns at the walker, taking it down swiftly, but m/n had already gotten out of the train car. hiding behind what once was his cage, he shot at every person who came into view. eventually making his way to the fence, through the woods, he didn't stop running until the sound of gunshots stopped entirely. even then, he kept running. he ran for what felt like hours until his lungs couldn't take it anymore. collapsing onto the dirt, heaving in and out.

woodbury had fallen, it's entire population now living in the prison nearby. rick had relinquished his leadership, insisting the prison be governed by a council. he often went on runs by himself, to get away from it all, to look back on his actions, to find lost survivors. it wasn't everyday rick grimes came across a twenty something perhaps younger male covered in blood, breathing like he had never tasted air before. well, usually the young men were walkers. but this one was very much alive.

"please don't" the male groaned out, eyes wide, as rick approached with a knife. "who are you" he drawled out, kneeling down to get a good look at the other. the young males face was bruised, his hair covered in blood, an ear was missing, and the male was emaciated. "uh" the male seemed to have to think about it, as if he hadn't spoken to another human in years "m/n" he finally puffed out, bringing his hand up to his head, where the left ear once was.

rick's hands brushed m/n hair out of his face, causing the male to flinch away "how many walkers have you killed" the older man finally asked after several moments of silence. m/n just stared at him, as if to say he hadn't been keeping track "how many people have you killed" still, the same look. "water" "what" rick narrowed his eyes. m/n used his free hand to shakily point to the man's bag, where a bottle of water was latched on to the side.

rick was silent as m/n chugged the water down "do you have anything sweet?" "no i don't" "oh" something about the boy felt familiar. didn't glenn mention originally going into atlanta to find a boy with a similar description? maybe it was just that the male reminded him of his own boy in a way, or maybe he had already developed a fondness for m/n. "i have a camp" rick looked m/n in the eye "we have walls, food, a community, a doctor that can look at your wound" he added.

the h/c-et shook his head "not again" rick furrowed his brows "what" the boy started to pick himself up "i gotta, um" he started feeling around the ground for his gun, "gotta go" he finished as he felt the handle of the gun. stuffing the weapon into his belt, he stood up, using a tree as a crutch. "c'mon kid, you're going to die out here" rick leaned forward and took the gun out of the others hand "no im not! give it!" m/n lunged forward, only to awkwardly fall into rick's chest, sinking down back to the ground.

"you've got two bullets left" m/n looked up at rick with a glare "either you come back to my camp with me or i just wasted my water on a dead man" m/n held his glare until the sun got into his eyes. "whatever" he looked down, hoisting himself back to his feet with the help of rick's hand.

daryl squinted his eyes as the evening sun glared down, merle had stolen his motorcycle. again. the older dixon was always going off on fun runs without informing anyone beforehand. perhaps because the redneck had never really been accepted into the group like daryl was.

taking another bite of his pork chop, daryl grunted at carol who told him to go in and get some rest. but why would he want to rest when all he could think of when his mind was unoccupied was his baby brother, the boy he had pretty much raised, who was now probably a rotting corpse in atlanta. but daryl still held out hope that m/n had gotten out, that he was safe, that he would find him oneday. this was why he never rested, these thoughts would creep up in the younger dixons head.

the sound of his motorcycle rumbling told him that merle was back. the older dixon sauntered over to daryl, a cigarette sat between his thin lips, "look what you're big brother merle got you, darylina" he pulled a pack of cigarettes out his pocket, sliding it into daryls pocket. daryl said nothing, staring into the distance; was that rick? the figure was too far away to discern.

"dad!" carl called out, jogging down. "look what i- m/n?" the young grimes exclaimed as he came closer to the pair. rick carried the half-conscious boy through the gates "you know this guy?" rick looked at carl, who flicked the hair out of m/n's face to get a better look "he was with us back in atlanta, we thought he died on a run"

daryl's heart stopped, did he hear carl right? they were pretty far away. standing up, he threw the pork bone aside and marched towards the two- three. when he finally came close enough to see the persons face, he had to stop himself from tearing up in front of carl and rick "m/n" he uttered out quietly. the father and son came to a halt as he approached "you knew this guy back in atlanta" rick nodded at daryl "'course i did. he's my brother" daryl was quick to take m/n off rick. he wanted to cut the mans arms off just for touching his precious brother.

daryl rushed m/n into the prison, settling him in his cell, "go get hershel" he told carol, who looked just as perplexed as merle did as he walked into the cell. "m/n!? i thought you was dead" he breathed out, shoving daryl out the way, who was quick to push back, both wanting to be as close to their younger brother as possible "where'd you find him" merle looked over at rick, who was standing out front the cell "in the woods, looked like he'd been running"

rick moved aside as hershel came in, merle reluctantly stood up as hershel sat to access m/n's condition. "he's lost a lot of blood" hershel examined the ear hole where the flesh and muscle had been ripped from "we should have bob look at him, but from what i can see he needs bandaging and antibiotics" daryl grunted "i ain't letting no stranger touch him" he ushered hershel away, taking m/n's hand in his own "i found antibiotics on last weeks run, that gon' be enough" merle looked over at the old man, who nodded "we'll have to see how he reacts"

neither daryl or merle left m/n's side whilst waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. it was strange. no one in the prison had ever seen either of them so worried for or attached to someone. but for the six days and nights m/n spent unconscious, his body fighting off the infection from his wounds, recovering from the months of maltreatment.

when m/n finally opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, daryl was leaned against the wall at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the boys face "sleep well?" was the first thing he said after the two had stared at each other for what felt like an eternity "yeah" m/n spoke softly.

"i should have never gone hunting that day" "am i dead" the two spoke in unison. daryl breathed out "no, never gon' let that happen" he shuffled closer, laying down next to the youngest dixon.

daryl stared at m/n intensely, until merle was roused from his sleep "m/n, i told you not to go out of my sight" he grumbled, sitting forward. m/n looked up at the metal frame of the top bunk "i just wanted to get you some narcan" merle stared at him, blinking away tears "didn' have to risk your life for it" he pursed his lips "i ain't worth you dyin'" he added quietly, sitting back, his eyes not leaving m/n's.

the room went silent for a moment "maybe not, but you're my brother" m/n closed his eyes for a moment "do you guys have pop or candy here?" he questioned hopefully. merle let out a chuckle "i found a can on my run today" he chuckled out, before going quiet "i chugged it on the spot"

"you piece of shit!"

194 notes · View notes

ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

The Swan.

Yan Feitan x F Reader.

Synopsis: You can’t believe your eyes. He came back for you, or you at least think that is him, from the silhouette of the shadow coming down the stairs.

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence/some gore, kidnapping, a mention or two of Chr*llo, implied body transformation (not on the reader), implied cannibalism, minor character death, and manipulation.

Word Count: 2.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Psycho by Mia Rodriguez

Enjoy the Silence - 2006 Remaster by Depeche Mode

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski

Twisted by MISSIO

Oblivion by Grimes

Chasing It Down by Mother Mother

Killshot by Magdalena Bay

Bernadette by IAMX

Bad Things by Cults

Mastermind by Mindless Self Indulgence

“The healthy man does not torture others.” – Carl Jung

*~*~*~*

The machete in your hands, underneath the cold running water of the sink’s faucet, looked like an amalgamation of silver coins or chains glued together and attached to a metal pole. You would have thought as much too, if the man looking over your shoulder was not there, if your glasses hadn't been shattered on the ground by his boot. He would make you clean the mess up later most likely, with a dustpan and broom you could hardly see regardless of whether it was night or day. He always made you clean up around here in some way, this moment you somewhat expected because of that, but you hadn’t because there was blood on it.

Even though it was so dark, because it was nighttime and your captor hadn’t bothered buying any sort of lamp or another possible source of light, you could still clearly see the crimson combining with the clear water and soon fading away into the drain. He made you touch it too, so you could clean it properly.

The blood was so much stickier and thicker than the water, so much warmer, with a smell that lingered in the air, and little droplets of it clinging to the very walls of the sink, desperate to not dissolve.

Feitan didn’t kill whatever poor unfortunate soul was locked in the basement in front of you. You suppose that was somewhat a mercy on his part. But the blood on the machete was still fresh and not dried up, as was the blood on his jacket. The sight of him coming up the stairs, the large blade behind him thumping with every step and staining the rotting wood, is a sight you will never forget.

“Make sure it is fully clean.”

The way he spoke made you jump a bit, leaving something akin to a snicker leaving his covered mouth. He never talked really to you, only communicating with a hmph here and a swift pull of your ear there. If you were disobedient he would usually break a finger or slam your head against the wall until there were bruises all over your face. Him breaking your glasses, though, was something that you did not expect. Perhaps you were sort of asking for it because no successful escape results from trying to poison a captor with a lethal amount of sedatives when it was clear the captor in question was beyond anything human.

The mug of watery black coffee was still in the back of the so-called kitchen, cracked open from Feitan throwing it onto the table in a fit of absolute rage.

Maybe you should have thought first as to whether or not he would have noticed that his medical cabinet was broken into because you didn’t lock it back up.

He hurled insults at you, deeming you foolish, before striding towards you with haste.

In a swift motion, he snatched your spectacles from your face and forcefully discarded them onto the ground. He then proceeded to ruthlessly trample upon them. In countless ways, you were his complete antithesis. Spontaneous, driven by emotions... utterly vulnerable. On most days, you obediently abide by instructions, rarely daring to challenge them. Or, at least, you have learned not to, the lesson of absolute submission was drilled into you faster than any hammer or screwdriver would.

You inquire with a tone of utmost innocence, or at least with the greatest semblance of innocence that you can summon.

You still hold onto hope that Robert will come back for you, with police or weapons or at least a concrete escape plan. Even if Feitan’s movements and behavior were far from any ordinary human, surely a bullet to the head would still be enough to kill him or be enough to restrain him.

It's hard to decide which is more disheartening: the ceaseless anticipation and longing for even the slightest indication of Robert's return to save you, despite the passing months, or Feitan's relentless assurance that nobody will come to your aid.

There is still a cuff on your ankle, a reminder of the chain in the basement from many moons ago. It took a lot of work, but you finally got out of there after earning yourself a stool to sit on, warm microwaved dinners instead of frozen ones, and once even a book. Stephen King's Misery, the irony not lost to you, the pages slightly wet when it was first given to you, as well as the signature on the front of the cover.

Anastasia Tayegg, it said, though the ink was bleeding out and making the white as snow page a burnt silver. The book, the air, everything, is thick with the stench of decay and sewage, it lingers in your nose and clings to your throat. The foul odor is acrid, sharp, and overpowering, overwhelming all other senses. It creates a thick atmosphere in the air, something that is almost tangible in its potency. It is a sickening smell that clings to the nostrils and coats the throat in a foul film. The smell is rancid and vile, something that causes an instant reaction of disgust and revulsion.

*~*~*~*

It is dark and dingy, with only the faintest gleam of light that seeps in through the tiny little cracks of the shattered glass lantern attached to the ceiling. The walls are thick and damp, and the stone that composes them is cold and damp to the touch. The room is filled with a musty scent of mold and rot, a combination of dampness and decay. The air is stagnant and the place feels very claustrophobic. The air seems to shimmer from the moisture that hands in it and it seems like a very quiet and very dead place.

At least it would have been very quiet and very dead, if not for the rotting corpses in the chairs, the blood that stained the walls and floor, and your quickened, panicked breaths, cries, and talks you have with yourself. The talks are about anything; your former life, Robert, water… you would talk about anything if it meant you weren’t alone with your thoughts and your mind.

The once shiny links of the chains on your wrists have now lost their brilliance and luster and are coated with a thick layer of rust which has seeped through between the metal links, causing them to grow stiff and rigid. They no longer move freely across the flesh that holds them captive, and they dig into the flesh, causing the pain to radiate deep into the body. The chains are heavy and the rust acts like sandpaper and chafes at your wrists.

Your hands have been bound and have been trapped for what feels like ages and the skin around the wrists has turned red and inflamed. The air is damp and heavy, a thick layer of stagnant moisture that has settled around you; your throat is dry, and your stomach is hollow. You haven’t had anything to eat or drink in what feels like forever. You are alone and in pain, your hands bound and the cold metal cuffs digging into your wrists, and you can’t do anything but stare blankly into the dark around you and just hope and pray that Robert will come back for you.

As you stare blankly into the dark, a single tear slides down your cheek. You can’t help but let the fear and desperation flow through you. With every passing second, you grow more and more afraid for yourself and for Robert, desperately wishing he would come back for you.

As the moments stretch to hours, you begin to fret over the idea that something may have happened to Robert, desperately praying that he returns, and soon. He is the only thing keeping your spirits alive and the reason for you to keep going. It is hard to stay hopeful, but you don’t give up on Robert, his strength and bravery are what keep you going. Despite your leg being infected and all the pain you are going through, you are praying and hoping he returns and comes to save you.

You know that he will do anything and everything he can to get you out of this place, out of this hell.

You trust him, you know that he can and will do it. You just need to hold on a little while longer, just a little bit more patience, and he will come for you. The only reason he didn’t bring you with him is just because of your leg, right?

You hear someone coming down the stairs, slowly, growing louder with each step. They seem impossibly loud and echoey in the cold damp air, and the rustling sound of clothing scraping along the walls seems to amplify the sound tenfold.

It seems like the footsteps are taking forever, and that they are just getting louder and closer, as if whoever or whatever is coming is dragging their feet with every step, making it that much more intense. But you know who is coming down, the only one you ever see alive anymore, down here, in the dark. You are not scared of being alone, not anymore, you are scared of having unwanted company.

The man who locked you and Robert down here, after you two begged him for shelter from the rain, without even really using his strength.

The man has a face reminiscent of a demon’s. His wide grin is filled with malice and cruelty, with sharp teeth that seem more like fangs. His narrow eyes are cold and predatory, always analyzing and always scanning his surroundings, you most of all, for your horrified facial expressions. He moves with a natural grace and an easy, casual manner, but under that exterior is a terrifying presence and a ruthless personality that is not afraid to kill or hurt someone without a second’s hesitation. The cuts and bruises all over your body are concrete proof of the latter.

“Perhaps there is still some use for you.” He steps closer, on the cracks of the floor below. “I don’t mind having an assistant.”

*~*~*~*

Ever since Feitan claimed you as his “assistant,” he imparted numerous teachings upon you. Among them, you discovered that the human body possesses an astonishing resilience, enduring unimaginable pain without succumbing to death. Even those who are deprived of limbs, eyes, and tongues persist, their existence marked by incessant torment, their pleas for respite falling on deaf ears. Regrettably, mercy is simply not within his repertoire. But something you have learned more than anything is that Feitan has made you a murderer.

Sometimes you were the one that did the finishing blow, with blood-soaked, shivering hands. Feitan seemed happy then, patting you on the head as a reward for a job well done. An act of fondness. Sometimes you told yourself it was for the better good, because to disobey Feitan meant a fate akin to a death sentence. Sometimes you told yourself that you had no choice and that your body may as well be a puppet on a string.

Both things you told yourself were bad enough and simply brought worse things in you. You are just like him at the end of it all.

You almost like killing them. You almost like killing them because for the first time in months or years or however long you have been held captive in that basement, you feel the presence of power.

You are both repulsed by the reality of it and also thrilled by the sense of control it gives you. The feeling of power and control is intoxicating, an adrenaline rush that you never expected, and yet it seems to call to you all the same. It is a thrill to you like you have never known, akin to nothing you have ever experienced before. It is a twisted sense of pleasure and satisfaction you get by taking the life of someone else, and yet you cannot help but feel guilt for that same pleasure.

What would Robert think?

…

The dinner table is set up with the most care you think Feitan could ever show to an inanimate object that was not his knives or swords. Not that it was ever used in the first place, as you usually ate alone in your bare-bones room, the only place where you sometimes had any privacy. There were a few napkins and a water bottle in front of you, with Feitan’s side having the same. The difference was while you had plastic utensils, your captor had real, metal ones. If you didn’t know better by now, you would have been tempted to take his knife and stab it into his jugular. But you do know better now, so you don’t try to do such a foolish thing anymore. You would not get far anyway. In the end, maybe you would be the one who gets hurt. That is what usually happens anyway, whenever you act out of line.

“Well? Does it look okay?” Feitan asks, his eyes gesturing towards something in the center of the table, something that looks like a larger rotisserie chicken in a bed of plastic and aluminum foil. Steam comes out of it along with the smell of cooked poultry. You wonder where Feitan got it from because he certainly does not know how to cook if the microwave dinners and chips you are always given mean anything. Not that you would say anything about it. You would rather not get on your captor’s bad side, his temper was already as explosive as it was. You were just happy to finally be eating something new for once.

“Yeah.”

“Which part do you want?” At his seemingly normal question, you point to the breast. You always liked that type of meat over thighs and drumsticks because they have much less fat. Much more delicious, in your opinion. “Hmm. Why?”

Of course, you have to explain yourself. There is never a moment when you don’t have to. Whether that would be what your favorite vegetable is to why you dislike bugs. He once put a centipede on your forehead as you slept and you screamed as loud as the people Feitan tortured in the cellar.

“Less fat and less likely to fall apart completely.”

Seemingly pleased with your answer, he grabs his knife and starts cutting, soon placing a large piece on your paper plate. He hated doing dishes, and so you always were forced to do them. As much as Feitan loves getting his hands dirty with organs and blood, soaked bread crumbs were too much for him. You kind of found it funny. Not that you would ever tell him, you don’t want to be hit in the head and called stupid again.

“Enjoy your food.” It sounded sort of like a threat, like an order to enjoy this moment as much as you can. You would prefer anything to microwaved pudding mixed with dethawed that was reminiscent of a forbidden fifth state of matter, more unholy than plasma.

So, you do.

“How is it?” Feitan is simply poking at his plate, it was ironic since whenever you refused to eat he called you ungrateful and threw you in the basement for an hour or two.

“Good.” You don’t know if his smile widening was a good or bad thing.

“I got it from a friend.”

“That’s… nice.”

“He helped me hunt him down himself.”

He?

You accidentally drop your fork onto the floor, the sound making you jump slightly. You bend down to pick it up, as you do not want Feitan to throw your plate out for making a mess again.

…It is best not to think about it too much.

#author aya #yandere #hxh #phantom troupe #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere x reader #yandere feitan #yandere feitan x reader #feitan #hxh manga #feitan portor #yandere hxh x reader #yandere feitan portor

169 notes · View notes

carlplsrailme · 2 years

Note

Can you give us some nsfw headcanons of Carl?<3 ily

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Carl Grimes x Fem!reader

cw: carl mounting you, dick sucking, shower sex, almost yandere carl, leaving love bites, being protective, and mention of readers menstruation

shower sex is everything to him.

just the way of dragging that soapy bar up and down your slippery body is just sultry and sensual he can't help but want to fuck you against the tile right then and there :(

plus it's easy so Rick and Michonne don't hear

he'd slowly pump his cock in and out of your drooling hole as he moans into your neck, whispering praises against your wet skin.

he loves your lips

he loves looking, tasting, fucking your pretty lips and loves 'em, even more, when they're wrapped around his cock <3

ugh, just the way your pretty innocent eyes stare right up at him as you just try your very hardest to make him cum :( is the reason he cums down your throat.

he snags kisses from you throughout the day, pulling you by your shirt, belt loop, collar, anything he can get his hands on just to pull your back flush against his chest

why? because it's the same position he fucks you in.

with your back to his chest and his hips smacking against your ass as if he's mounting you like a fucking animal. His hands would wrap around your body, grabbing at your tits and kissing your neck, all anyone can hear are your moans, the smacking, and the wet sounds of your pussy cumming for him

he loves leaving marks

he adores it. he adores seeing your bruised-up neck n' thighs in the morning, though he does feel a little guilty it all gets restored when he watches Ron's eyes twist when he notices the mark he place right behind your ear <3

when you're on your period he makes cookies for you, and massages your sore breast while he whispers how beautiful you are <3

mounting you is fun, but he loves missionary all too much. just the way of seeing your fucked out face as you babble about how big he is has him cumming straight to your womb <3

an: hiiii guyss! sorry I haven't posted in a while, still trying to fix some things hehehe. I'm writing for all of the requests right now so don't worry or feel like I'm ignoring you!! -They should be done soon! lysm byeee! 💞

3K notes · View notes

kelthebarb · 1 year

Text

ABOUT ME!

hello hello !!

i’m kelian, keli, or kel (feel free to call me either), i’m 18, and i write fanfiction :)

here are some of the fandoms & characters i write for

— TWD

genres: angst, fluff, smut, platonic, headcannons, oneshots, alphabets

carl grimes, rick grimes, daryl dixon, michonne grimes, enid rhee, maggie rhee, henry sutton, rosita espinosa, glenn rhee, tara chambler, ron anderson

— AOT

genres: angst, fluff, smut, platonic, headcannons, oneshots, alphabets

hangë zoe, eren yeager, levi ackerman, jean kirschtein, armin arlert, connie springer, mikasa ackerman, sasha braus, annie leonhardt

— VLD

genres: fluff, angst, platonic, headcannons, oneshots

pidge gunderson, lance mcclain, keith kogane, matt holt, princess allura

— MHA

genres: angst, fluff, smut, platonic, headcannons, oneshots, alphabets

mezo shoji, hitoshi shinsou, shoto todoroki, katsuki bakugou, touya todoroki/dabi, izuku midoriya, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, tenya iida, hanta sero

— GMW

genres: fluff, angst, platonic, headcannons, oneshots

lucas friar, farkle minkus, riley matthews, maya hart, shawn hunter

— KNY

genres: smut (only for some characters), fluff, angst, platonic, headcannons, oneshots

tanjiro kamado, inosuke hashibira, zenitsu agatsuma, giyuu tomioka, rengoku kyojuro, tengen uzui, obanai iguro, sanemi shinazugawa, himejima gyomei, muichiro tokito, gyutaro shabana

— ATWOW

genres: smut (only for some characters), fluff, angst, platonic, headcannons, oneshots

[nga yawne lu oer - lo’ak sully]

[mean - neteyam & lo’ak sully]

lo’ak sully, neteyam sully, kiri sully, jake sully, neytiri te tskaha mo’at’ite, aonung, tsireya, rotxo

— COD

genres: angst, fluff, smut, platonic, headcannons, oneshots, alphabets

[if i could tell her - john “soap” mactavish]

[my future - simon “ghost” riley]

simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, kyle “gaz” garrick, john price, alejandro vargas, keegan russ, alex keller, könig

— GHOST

genres: angst, fluff, smut, platonic, headcannons, oneshots, alphabets (only platonic for the girls because i’m gay)

[mountaindew angst blurb]

swiss, sodo, mountain, phantom, aether, rain, cumulus, cirrus, aurora

- WHAT I WILL WRITE

dom/sub dynamics

ships

pet names

pretty tame kinks (also piss if ya filthy) (i am)

character x reader

- WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE

odd kinks, shit, age regression, etc

incest

fem!reader

yandere characters/readers

requests that make me uncomfortable

n that’s pretty much it ! my requests are open, so feel free to send in some !

103 notes · View notes

maraxp · 9 months

Text

this is a multifandom blog meaning that i favorite certain fandoms/characters so there will most definitely be more writings for certain characters and fandoms.

please don’t be offended if you send a request for someone and i don’t fulfil it, sometimes the inspiration is lacking for certain characters. i still wish to write though so i will continue to post.

requests are open so you can send them whenever you want !

DO YOU HAVE A MASTERLIST?

my masterlist is the [ 🏴‍☠️ ] at the top of my blog in the navigation, it can also be found on the left hand side of my blog when viewing on desktop.

ARE YOUR REQUESTS OPEN?

please check my masterlist [ 🏴‍☠️ ] for request details, I always try my best to keep it updated.

WHAT DO YOU WRITE FOR?

smut, angst, fluff, age gaps, poly/threesome+, reverse harem, dubcon, noncon, yandere, toy play, cheating (to an extent), blood play, knife play, bdsm, breath play, violence, gore, hunter/prey, praise and degradation, power imbalance, supernatural, choking, mommy/daddy kink. (wrap it up !)

WHAT DO YOU NOT WRITE FOR?

rpf, necrophilia, incest, daddy/little play, age play (basically pedophilia), spitting, bimbo!reader, foot fetish, animal play, race play, watersports, miscarriage, any kind of abuse, child fics, any ocs, i avoid the pet name ‘kitten’ like- it’s just.. no.

WHAT DO YOU USE FOR YOUR HEADERS?

i use canva and sometimes ibispaint x. i get most of my images from pinterest.

WHO DO YOU WRITE FOR?

MARVEL

miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, miles morales, tony stark, peter parker (all variants), doctor strange, wade wilson, eddie brock, kate bishop, mary jane

STRANGER THINGS

eddie munson, steve harrington, henry creel, jim hopper

THE WALKING DEAD

negan smith, rick grimes, daryl dixon, maggie greene, glenn rhee, abraham ford, carl grimes, morgan jones, shane walsh, michonne hawthorne, ezekiel sutton, gabriel stokes, eugene porter, rosita espinosa

RESIDENT EVIL

leon scott kennedy, chris redfield, claire redfield, ashley graham, ada wong, luis sera, albert wesker, jill valentine, carlos oliveira, rebecca chambers, sherry birkin, ethan winters, helena harper, alcina dimitrescu, karl heisenberg

MODERN WARFARE II

simon riley/ghost, john mactavish/soap, john price, kate laswell, phillip graves, kyle garrick/gaz, alejandro vargas, könig, gary sanderson/roach, farah karim, valeria garza, rodolfo parra

DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU . . .

are racist, homophobic, bigoted, zionist, islamphobic. judgmental to what people enjoy writing/reading. copy or repost my fics without permission. follow me if you’re problematic. send your full fic into my ask box, i will not post it. — if you fit the average dni criteria you will be blocked.

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THIS IS AN N[SFW] BLOG. I ASK THAT MINORS BLOCK THE +18 TAG: 📓. mature - THANK YOU.

#disclaimer #blog rules #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannons #imagine #maraxpfaq #anime / manga #video games #one piece #resident evil #hunter x hunter #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure #demon slayer

29 notes · View notes

cellgore · 2 years

Text

— 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄’𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐐.

this is a multifandom blog meaning that i favorite certain fandoms/characters so there will most definitely be more writings for certain characters and fandoms.

please don’t be offended if you send a request for someone and I don’t fulfil it, sometimes the inspiration is lacking for certain characters. I still wish to write though so I will continue to post.

requests are open so you can send them whenever you want !

DO YOU HAVE A MASTERLIST?

my masterlist is pinned at the top of my blog in navigation when viewing in the app, it can also be found on the left hand side of my blog when viewing on desktop.

ARE YOUR REQUESTS OPEN?

please check my pinned masterlist for request details, I always try my best to keep it updated.

WHAT DO YOU WRITE FOR?

WHAT DO YOU NOT WRITE FOR?

WHAT DO YOU USE FOR YOUR HEADERS?

I use canva and sometimes ibispaint x. I get most of my images from pinterest.

WHO DO YOU WRITE FOR?

MARVEL

miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, miles morales, tony stark, peter parker (all variants), doctor strange, wade wilson, eddie brock, kate bishop, mary jane

DC UNIVERSE

harley quinn, diana prince, clark kent, pamela isley/poison ivy, arthur curry/aquaman, bruce wayne/batman

STRANGER THINGS

eddie munson, steve harrington, henry creel, jim hopper

THE WALKING DEAD

RESIDENT EVIL

MODERN WARFARE II

simon riley/ghost, john mactavish/soap, john price, kate laswell, phillip graves, kyle garrick/gaz, alejandro vargas, könig, gary sanderson/roach, farah karim, valeria garza, rodolfo parra

DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU . . .

are racist, homophobic, bigoted, zionist, islamphobic. judgmental to what people enjoy writing/reading. copy or repost my fics. follow me if you’re problematic. send your full fic into my ask box, i will not post it. — if you fit the average dni criteria you will be blocked.

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG AND I ASK THAT MDNI - THANK YOU.

#disclaimer #blog rules #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannons #imagine #anime / manga #video games #one piece #hunter x hunter #attack on titan #leon kennedy #demon slayer #resident evil #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure

17 notes · View notes

cecewilliams · 2 years

Text

Carl x reader

WARNING- blood,death, yandere vibes, crying, friend loss, etc

CARL GRIMES X YANDERE READER

I’ve seen a lack of yandere readers with Carl grimes so :)

You actually killed someone… you… killed someone but you didn’t feel bad you felt happy.. happy you had gotten rid of her…she was just getting TO close to him… ( you just got back from look out). Midnight

You walked in the room. Enid looked at you confused “ y/n what are you doing? Are you okay?” No Enid you weren’t okay you were furious she knew you were dating Carl maybe…. Maybe things would have been different if she didn’t

“ Y/n are you” she stoped her eyes wide when she saw the knife you had. You got closer she pulled away “ you should have stayed away”

And that was it that was all you remembered you cleaned up and made it like like a suicide since you stabbed her in the heart you posed her against a wall with the knife in her hands and put a fake suicide note it looked close enough to her handwriting

You took a shower and went in your room acting like nothing happened

You heard a scream from carl in Enids room A smirk on your face

You went in her room to see carl on the ground “what’s happening?” “ on my god” you acted surprised trying not to smile “ carl I’m… I’m so sorry..is she”

“She’s gone” carl said “ do you want to do or should I” you said sadly “c-can you?” Carl said in between breaths “ yeah of course go outside okay?” He nodded and left

You bended down to Enid “ you never deserved him you don’t even deserve life and now you’re dead” you paused “ pathetic” you sat up put the gun to her head-shot- and went downstairs to Carl

“Hey Carl she’s in a better place now okay?” “Why would she do this?” “ i don’t know” you replied “ I should have-“ “no” you interrupted “there is no way you could have stoped this don’t blame yourself okay?” “ I just- I don’t know” you sat down by him and gave him a hug

At least you don’t have to worry about her anymore

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #yandere #the walking dead #x reader #carl grimes #y/n #fanfic #fiction #yandere reader

81 notes · View notes

little-reader · 1 year

Text

“The Son of A Monster” Ch.3

Masterlist

Carl grimes x Male!Reader

Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse

Rick wasn’t there, nor was Aaron. You found a place where Iris could stay. The woman you met last time, Olivia. She looked slightly scared again once you got into view. You left Iris alone to unpack.

You moved your bat off the couch and onto the carpet floor, sitting down as your dad was talking to Olivia. “Dad!” You said, eyes wide when you heard the words come out of his mouth. A hard smack across the face echoed throughout the room when Olivia slapped him. Your dad only flirted back. “Jesus.” You muttered.

Olivia left to make lemonade, forcibly, and you got up so you could have a “Grand House tour”. “Dad, you don't have to touch everything.” You muttered, walking around as he took off his shoes. “And that's gross.”

Carl only stayed silent and watched as Negan played around with everything. A “heater” ended up being a baby in the last room. Your dad instantly picked her up. You touched her hair as she looked at you. “Haven’t seen one since… what 2 years ago.” You said, taking your hand away. Your dad only nodded as he took the kid outside.

The sunlight flicked as the trees shook, and the breeze was light from the window in the room. You looked around the bedroom that Iris stayed in. Small, but comfortable, away from others like your dad. You laid back as you looked at the books across the room. You were mainly giving the place a nice glance over. You wanted Iris to be safe and sound, with no threats around her.

“I’m done.” She said, coming into the room with wet hair and a towel. You hummed as she closed the door and sat on the bed, drying her hair.

“What ya’ wearing?” You asked, looking at the suitcase and back. She shrugged and looked over. “You don’t know? What about ragged jeans? You know the cool hippie ones?” You joked. She slapped your knee and sighed, taking the towel off and looking through the suitcase for the “perfect outfit”. “Niceee.” You hummed. She scoffed and started changing.

Sitting up, you sighed and stood. “I’ve got to be there when Rick gets back.” kissing her head, you went to the door. “Stay in here until I tell you to come out, I don't want anyone pestering you.” She only nodded as you closed the door and left down the stairs. Your guessing you didn’t miss anything, because the trucks at the gate were still there, along with the men.

You walked past the street, into the other patch of grass where Negan stood talking to a man. A pool table on the road, and a stick in his hand. Your dad smiled, but fury set in his eyes. The small crowd around watched them talk as you got closer. Negan sat the stick down. “The guy who waited for Rick to be gone so he could sneak over and talk to me to get me to do his dirty work, so he could take Rick’s place.” A small pause, you took a second, and looked over at him, then at the man. Fuck. “So I gotta ask – If you wanna take over, why not kill Rick yourself and just take over?” He asked, now in his face as the man shuddered.

“Dad.” You said, only for him to raise his hand in your direction.

“You know what I’m thinking? Cause I got a guess.” He said, leaning back, and then getting back in his face. “It’s because you got” A small pause. “no guts.” He whispered.

“Dad!” You yelled as the man was sliced open by the stomach. The man fell to his knees, holding his organs in his hands. You stared wide-eyed at the man, taking a step forward before he pushed you back.

“Ohh, how embarrassing!” he went on. You spaced out, looking at the man, and how his blood dripped out. Not that you haven’t seen it before, but it only proved that your dad was getting worse.

Negan started waving the bat around asking if they wanted to finish the game.

A loud shot rang, then another, you were dazed, your eyes even wider than before as you looked at your father, the bullet didn’t hit him, but his bat, which was twice as worse as hitting him. You felt the blood trickle down your face, it was cut but only a small scrape. “Aw, fuck.” You muttered, touching your face. That is when he started to yell. Rosita was slammed to the ground, and a knife was pressed to her cheek.

Your dad carefully examined the bullet. It was hand-made, and not like the ones you took a few days ago.

You don't feel like being here when another person dies. “I’m gonna go… inside.” You said, tripping over your foot a bit. Negan only grabbed you, checking your face before sending you on your way. Which wasn’t far, you heard their voices as you entered the Grimes home and sat on the couch, another gunshot, You sighed and left to the bathroom to clean your wound and stitch it up.

You didn’t see Carl until the morning, very early in the morning. He was sneaking around, putting his shoes on, and leaving. You groaned as you sat up, pulling your shoes on your feet and taking a cigarette out. You grabbed your tank top and pulled it on before heading back out, slowly shutting the door without a sound. You looked back and forth. You could see him moving around the streets.

You followed him, staying out of the light, and into the other side of the town, where the solar panels sat. You looked around, but there wasn’t anything to see. He probably wandered to another place, and you didn’t exactly enjoy following him around… kind of.

You sighed, turned around, and started walking. You ended up in front of the gate. “Hey!” There was a shadow on the post, looking down at you. “You can’t go out there.” They yelled, then Shown a light in your face.

You covered your face, looking at them with one eye. “C’mon Rosita, Just a drive?” You said, waving your knife around with a grin. She only paused, then sat the light down and climbed the latter down.

“If you get bit,., I’m not letting you in, I don’t give a shit who you are.” She said, opening the gate as you walked out.

“Eh, I think I’ll be fine. Have a nice day, doll.” You said, leaving out into the street. You could barely see, but there was no noise. No shuffling of bushes, the break of a stick, or your dad scolding you.

You hummed, closing your eyes and breathing in the air. You were about half a mile out by now, and the sun was starting to rise. You could see a small clearing of the sky through the leaves of the trees. “Fuck.” You muttered, looking at the small group of ten biters down the road. You jumped the ditch and headed into the woods. You ran farther into the trees, only almost falling into more walkers before finally resting against a tree and onto the ground.

“Jesus fuck.” Your side hurt, with the cuts on your torso bursting with rage and your legs wanting to kill you right now, you decided to rest there for a bit, until you could walk forty minutes back home.

—-- Carl’s POV—--

Carl woke up early. He sat in his room staring at the ceiling for more than an hour until he got bored and got up. He grabbed his flannel and pants, before leaving downstairs. He turned on the flashlight, tip-toeing past his parent's room and towards the stairs. Shining the flashlight in the living room where You slept, he walked in, checking the time. 5 am. He looked at you. You didn’t sleep with a blanket, just a pillow and pants. Your face was covered by hair, but he could see your eyes and the way you slowly breathed. He could tell, just by looking at you, that you could be a value to someone, like a bodyguard.

He shuffled back, hitting the coffee table then looking back at you, hearing you grunt. He let out a breath before going around the couch to the door, grabbing his shoes, and setting down the flashlight. He stood on one foot, trying to balance as he put his shoe on. He heard you shuffle around on the couch before he left out the door.

Carl sighed as he walked down the stairs and turned the flashlight off. He checked his side, making sure the knife still stayed on his hip. He made his way through the solar panels and ran to the wall, climbing over it before landing on the ground, brushing off the leaves as he headed into the woods.

He didn’t know where he was going, he wasn’t even supposed to be out. But he felt. Good. Being out the walls, away from Negan and his son. He killed a few walkers on his way. The light peering in allowed him to see the ground and around the trees. He stood for a second, in and out, before walking again. It was quiet, or maybe he was out of it. Because as he walked, there was no sound whatsoever.

He was deep in the woods when he encountered a large group of walkers that he could not take alone. He felt like with every turn he took they multiplied as he ran.

“FUCK!” You yelled, getting slammed into and crashing to the ground. “What the fuck-” You looked over to see Carl trying to stand, then looked over to the large crowd. “Oh fuck.” You breathed. You grabbed Carl, pushed him to your chest, and rolled into the trench beside you, getting into the hollow part.

Your back was out and Carl was pressed against the wall of the cave, his back was covered. You put your finger up to your lips as they passed above you. “Fuck, that hurt.” You whispered

He looked confused. His bright eyes looked into yours. You examined his face. He had small freckles at the edge of his face, along with a bit of stubble on his chin. His eyes were blue as blue could be, with even darker around the edges. “You know, your nice quiet.” You whispered with a laugh.

He only rolled his eyes and looked away from you, taking his knife out of his pocket. “Shit. I need you to grab mine.” Your hand was currently occupied, one on the roof of the cave, not sure if it would stay up, the second around and under Carl’s torso.

He sat his knife on your side and reached down, feeling around your shirt. “Where is it?” He whispered back. “In the front, or on my side.” You said, looking back behind you, you groaned. “Fuck.”

“What?” He asked, pausing. You laughed, turning back to him, and you got closer to his body, pressing against him, your head close to his ear. “What are you doing-”

“One, They’ll see me if I don't get closer, 2,” You said, looking at him with one eye. “Let's just say you weren’t just grabbing my knife.” He quickly pulled his hand away with a weird look and gave you his knife.

You could feel his breath on your neck, how sometimes it would stop and pause, then continue. You could feel his chest move, and his legs shift against yours. You could tell you’d be here for a while. And hopefully, none of them will wander down here, but if you got out now, you both would be trapped with them down here.

You could feel your stomach growl and turn, “Shit, you got anything to eat?” You asked. He hummed and reached down again, digging in his pocket. He handed you a protein bar, it was already opened but barely eaten. You pushed yourself back, face to face once again. Then you broke the bar in half. “Here, eat some.”

“I’m not-” You cut him off. “It's barely been eaten, I'm sure you haven't eaten since last night.” You said he took it, taking a bite out of it. You huffed, still hearing the groans of the dead. You got in the same position as earlier. “I hope you know this is not me being nice.” You said.

“I never said it was,” Carl replied back. He shifted once again, this time his hips. His legs were now mostly between yours, his arms to his chest and head against your neck. “Don’t tell my dad either, he’ll get a person to guard the walls, not just the front.”

“Fine, don’t tell mine either, he’ll think I came out here for cigs and looking for old stashes of drugs.” You said, sighing. “It's dangerous! Y/n, what is wrong with you? Why can’t you just follow the rules?” You mocked your dad's voice. “Trust me, he can suck a slim-jim.” You muttered. ‘

You felt Carl's chest bouncing. “Are you laughing?” You asked, smirking. He coughed a bit and shook his head slightly. You hummed and closed your eyes. “You're a badass grimes.” You stated. “Shoving me off a goddamn truck, then killing a bunch of men. I liked one of them you know…”

A hand covered your mouth, hushing you. “They can hear you know?” He said sarcastically. You only nodded and took his hand off your mouth.

“I ramble on when I’m with people, I don’t do good with silence.” You whispered.

About ten minutes later, you peered behind yourself. “I’m gonna look out, I don't hear them anymore.” You said, sliding out of the shallow trench. You stood, then turned. “Shit.” You said, ducking, putting your finger to your lips and a hand out. “Shut up and stay there.”

Carl looked at you with narrowed eyes and backed into the hollow part even more. You passed his knife back to him and stood, looking above him and climbing the trench. It went quiet for a few seconds, you could hear him moving around, the leaves crunching with each step. “Please help!” You yelled, then fell to the ground, face first.

Voices soon started to come closer.

They were laughing. Two men. That's when he heard you groan.

“He’s alive? Hey pal, you good?” One of the men asked. Shuffling was heard again. “Hey, aw look at his face V.”

You smirked, and in a quick move, you stabbed the man in his neck and kicked the other down, “You little shit!” You were shoved into the trench, landing on your arm. You looked at Carl, a sarcastic wink his way and putting a finger to your lips.

The man jumped down, sliding slightly, before standing straight, “C’mere ya’ brat.” You were grabbed by the neck and thrown back down. You laughed, coughing as you did, and grabbed your knife, hitting him right in the calf and moving over. He screamed in pain and charged toward you. You swung at him, and your hand made contact with his face, but only for him to yank you by it, and moved to him.

He dug his knee into your back and threw the knife out of your reach. You struggled and he laughed. “Now look at you! Weak.” He said, punching you in the stomach, and face, and kicking you repeatedly. You groaned as he got off of you. You closed your eyes. Your whole body felt like fire, you’ve felt the pain many times before, but it Hurt.

Carl swung his knife over, hitting the man's farm but only grazing it. “That's why he did that, e was protecting you,” The man said in a baby voice. “What is he? Your brother?” He asked. Carl stayed quiet.

You opened your eyes, looking at the man. He was much larger than Carl, and Carl had a smaller knife that could barely go into a chicken bone. You slowly got up, watching them fight, and it was more in slow motion for you. As you moved more, the pain slowly decreased and you came back into reality.

You breathed in and ran for it, pulling the man down with you and turning him over, sitting on him. You threw a punch, then another, and another, and another, it felt like forever before you stopped.

Carl watched you cave the man's head in, his blood spewing everywhere, on your face, clothes, and hair. Everywhere.

You got off the man. Well, now a man with no head. You shook your hand and stepped away, turning around and examining your knuckles. You then looked up, pacing Towards Carl and grabbing him by the collar.

“I told you not to come out.” You shook him. “I told you to be quiet and stay.” You only got angrier. You threw him down.

“Fuck you too. I was helping your ass,” Carl said, pissed. You laughed and turned, grabbing your knife.

“Yeah fuck me.” You said.

It was about 7 in the morning by then. You both climbed the trench, helping each other before finding a road. When you finally reached the gate, you were met by Rick, Rosita, and Michonne. You waved and walked past them. “Scold him, not me,” You said.

“You can just wander off like that,” Rick said, taking your appearance in. “What the hell happened?” He asked, then looked at Carl.

“I saved your son's ass, your welcome.” You said. “Tell him not to sneak out.” You mumbled and left down the street and into Olivia's house, now your wife's home. You walked up the stairs and knocked on her bedroom door.

“Y/n… Jesus.” She said, looking up and down.

“Like what you see?” You laughed, she only took your hand and laid you down. “Fuck… How’s…” You paused and pointed to her stomach.

“Hm, they're fine.” She said, taking out a few things from the cabinet. “I think, though, I’m sure they miss their dad.” She laughed, and you jokingly scoffed, pulling her over. “I have to clean you up, stop.”

You hummed. “I’m so tired.” You said. “C’mon bestie, you don’t need to be so mean.” You whined as she pulled away and hit your thigh. You fell asleep as she took care of you.

Chapter 4

126 notes · View notes

little-reader · 1 year

Text

The Son of A Monster

This is a Slow burn

Carl grimes x Male!Reader

Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse

You looked at the window of the truck, your hair somewhat in your face. Your father laughed beside you as you drove to Alexandria. You sighed, looking at 1975. Beretta Model 92 M92 and the G36 rifle sitting in your lap. You huffed and shifted. You were there when your father killed those people. Three days ago, even though he said a week. The night when you could see the fear in their eyes, not only to Simon and your father, but to you. Except for one, the kid, bout your age. Fearless.

They were scary, but your father was terrifying to the bone. He had little love in his cold heart since… the day your mother killed herself. You didn’t blame her though.

You snatched the hat out of his hand. “Hey, kid.” He said, looking at you. “Give it back.”

The truck stopped and you got out, holding the M93 on your side and the G36 in two hands. He made his little speech, talking to a man at the gate who didn’t know the great Negan. “That mans gonna get himself killed,” you mumbled. You took out a cigarette and lit it, waiting to be let in. Rick finally opened the gate, and you followed your father in. “Alright everybody, let's get started,” He said, walking in more and looking around He started talking about service shit as he hand rick his bat. You stood away.

He let the people run around and take things out of the houses. You looked around. That boy, Rick’s kid, stood outside one of the houses and then went in when the people scattered, You then look over behind you where Dwight was pestering Rosita. “Asshole.” You muttered walking over to his snarky ass. You didn’t like him one bit, he always acted like he was above you and like he was rockin’ gold.

“Just because you got your pretty wife taken from dad, doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole to every woman you see.” You said, dropping the cigarette in his hand and giving the hat back, “Go where ever your going, or don’t, I don’t give a flying shit.”

You walked away. Still, though, Dwight kept talking. You looked around as you walked and went to the infirmary, at least that's what it looked like when you walked in. Carl, that's the kid’s name, had a gun pointed at the men. You watched, smiled, then waited. He was telling them to put it back or take half. The gun went off, leaving a slight tingle in your ears. You tapped his shoulder.

“Hey pal, let's put that down yeah?” You said, looking into his eyes. He didn’t. You grabbed his arm. “Put it down. Now.” He ignored you. “Fine.”

“Fuck!” He yelled when you rustled him to the ground, the gun going off once more. He wrapped his legs around you, trying to get you off as you pushed the gun away. “Get Off!” He said, punching you.

“Carl!” Rick yelled as he came in, Your dad also entered with the same old grin on his face. He punched you again kicking you off.

“Fuck!” You yelled, jumping on his again. “Calm. The fuck. Down!” You yelled, slamming his head down onto the floor. “I'm making sure your getting who's in charge asshole, calm down.” You spit, holding his hands down. You got a clear view of his face, hair a mess from the fighting, and hat barely on, “You good? Great, have fun with a nice scolding huh.” You got off him and picked up your rifle and the cowboy hat you kept on your head. Your dad clapped.

“Well, shit.” He said looking at carl. “You’ve on huge balls doing that stunt.” He looked down then over to you. “And you did a number on my kid and he barely scratched you!” Both Rick and Carl looked over to you and then back at Negan.

“He didn’t-”

“Don’t be rude Rick!” Your father said, looking to rick, “I'm having a conversation!” He then continued to scold/compliment carl. Then taking the guns away You sat outside watching them pile out of the room.

You watched carl walk out pissed and leave. You wondered if you should follow him but decided against it. Your father came out, looked at you, and smirk. “You did a fantastic job kid.” He said, ruffling your hair. You glared at him. “And I need you to do one more.” He bent down, holding that stupid bat on his shoulder. “I need you to stay here.” He is sad, making you look up in shock.

“What?!” You yelled. “No, I can’t I'm your kid, nobody’s going to like me, or even talk to me.” You yelled.

“Hey! Do not yell at me.” He said his smile dropping. “I need you to watch over carl. That’s it. Plus he’s your age, you need to make friends, kid.” He kissed your head before leaving

“Make friends my ass.” You sighed before following after him as he took the guns out of the army. Arat came out yanking Olivia with her. “Arat, we don’t do that.” He said, pointing at her and then at Olivia. “Unless they do something to deserve it.”

“Yeah, we went through the inventory. Gun in the army, guns around the walls. Their short.” She said, shrugging slightly. “Glock 9 and a 22 bobcat.” She said, handing the book over. You looked over to rick, a confused yet scared look on his face. Your father giving him a side look.

“Is that true?” He asked as Olivia nodded. Rick started speaking. “We had some people leave town, those guns probably went with them-” “So Olivia sucks at her job… Is that what you're saying.” Negan said, pointing to the book. You looked over, Olivia was frightened. “Is that what you're saying?”

“Dad-” You said only to get ignored.

“No that's not what I’m saying-”

“There should be a full accounting here. Right?” he paused. “Top to bottom?” Your dad licked his lips, then looked at Olivia. “Right?”

“No… I mean yes. The inventory is correct.” She said looking at the book and back at your father.

“Good, but not so good too,” You tried to speak up but your father hit your shoulder and proceeded to walk closer to Olivia. “You see what's in here, isn’t in there. Your two handguns short… Do you know where they are?” He asked.

Olivia shook her head. “No, I-.” Your father sighed and looked up at Olivia. “That's disappointing, I thought that we had an understanding. But this, well this shows that someone is not on board,” He smiled, shaking his head and looking at Rick. “- And I can't have that.” He turned, closer to Olivia's face, and smiled. “I don’t enjoy killing women. Men, I can waste them all the live long” You huffed and glared at your father. “But at the end of the day Olivia, my dear.” He paused. “This was your responsibility-”

Rick interrupted your dad again. “Look, we can work this out” “Oh! Yes, we can!” Your father said in a louder tone, turning to Rick. His face got serious. “And I'm going too, right now.” Olivia started to whimper. ”This was your job, and you screwed up.” He paused, tilting his head once more. “Keeping track of guns?...” He got closer to her face, with a stone-cold look. “That shit Is life and death.-” She slowly smiled.

That's how you got here now. Your dad's arm wrapped around the chair where Olivia sat. You felt bad. But he was right, it was her job. He was talking about some stupid shit as Oliva sat there shaking. “Hey, if they can’t find those guns, maybe I’ll let little me Kill ya for once, with old good Lucille.” He said, turning the bat a bit and putting it in her face. “And my kid loves a little Baseball.”

“Dad, scaring her isn’t helping. Though It’s not a threat.” You muttered the last part.

“C’mon, boy. Show her your form.” He said, pointing at the can. He handed you the bat and you stood. You used to play, even better when your dad was a coach. You got in almost perfect form, lifted your leg, and hit the can, watching it fly in the air. “Damn! That was nice.” He laughed. You swung the bat around, practicing hitting. Your father watched you with a smile. His smile dropped.

“Give them Y/n.” He said. You paused, looking down at your pockets. “Now.” he said. You huffed and took the box of cigarettes out of your pocket, throwing them at him. “We’ll talk later.”

Rolling your eyes, you give the bat back and wait beside him, looking at your gun. “Can I see the book?” you asked, looking at the blue journal. He looked at you funny but handed it to you anyway. You looked through it, looking for some hand weapons. You smiled and gave the book back as Arat came out saying Rick found the guns.

You head to the weapons locker and go threw the bats, blades, and swords. Your father talking to rick.

“For wasting my time, I'm going to leave you with the job of taking my son in. I think he’ll learn a few things here.” Negan said, patting his chest at the gate. “Grab the deer.” He said, waving. “And rick, if my kid gets hurt. I'll let him bash the person's head off.” He said, getting in the truck while whistling. You walked over, waving as they left and the gates closed.

You held a metal bat with a rolling blade at the top in your hand, smiling as you turned around. “Hello, I’m Y/n.”

(People who read this before, if you saw the name Sam, it changed it to that :( Sorry.)

Chapter 2

317 notes · View notes