Welcome! This blog hosts a week of fanwork dedicated to the dadson ship, Rick and Carl from TWD. Starts September 26th and ends on October 2nd 𐚁𓌏 [Click HERE for the Rules page] Happy posting!
The Grimescest Week 2025 Calendar is finally here! We hope some of your favourite prompts have made it to the event! Please also note the bonus prompts, which can be added on to any day or as a bonus day on October 3rd. Don't forget to tag #GrimescestWeek so we can see all your beautiful creations!
If you have any questions, please read the FAQ here (and the text version available here) or send us an ask!
We really appreciate your participation and hope you have fun creating for our loveable dadson ship :')
Hey guys! A couple messages from our mods now that the event has ended 🥹❤️
From Arwa: I loved working on this with Bea (mod) from the very beginning. I couldn't ask for a better partner! Her excitement was contagious, and I never lost passion for even a moment because of it 💗
Seeing people's reactions to the prompts, what they're interested the most in about Grimescest and what kinds of works they can create has all been very rewarding. So hopefully, you'll see more of us!
From Bea: Hello! Thanks again to everyone who participated in the event!! It was really fun seeing everyone’s work and enthusiasm and all the love for a fandom that’s so small lolol!!! And of course special thanks to Arwa for being the orchestrator at the very beginning!!!
I don’t think this would have developed outside of a chat without her initiative!!!! And of course the prompts and collections will remain up for anyone in the future to still want to join in. All works big and small really mean a lot!!! ❤️🥹
Thank you so much for organizing this event 🩷 It means a lot in a tiny fandom like ours. I enjoyed creating my own fills for various prompts, and I loved seeing everyone's fics and art and edits 🥰
Hey guys! A couple messages from our mods now that the event has ended 🥹❤️
From Arwa: I loved working on this with Bea (mod) from the very beginning. I couldn't ask for a better partner! Her excitement was contagious, and I never lost passion for even a moment because of it 💗
Seeing people's reactions to the prompts, what they're interested the most in about Grimescest and what kinds of works they can create has all been very rewarding. So hopefully, you'll see more of us!
From Bea: Hello! Thanks again to everyone who participated in the event!! It was really fun seeing everyone’s work and enthusiasm and all the love for a fandom that’s so small lolol!!! And of course special thanks to Arwa for being the orchestrator at the very beginning!!!
I don’t think this would have developed outside of a chat without her initiative!!!! And of course the prompts and collections will remain up for anyone in the future to still want to join in. All works big and small really mean a lot!!! ❤️🥹
I am going to post a full fic for this prompt on AO3, but I felt inspired to write an additional little drabble. Rated PG for nursing.
They’ve stopped for the night, and their pack has settled around a campfire, the small grove secured with tripwires and sharp-eyed lookouts. They’re safe for the first time since their harrowing escape from Terminus, but Carl can’t sleep—can’t bear to take his eyes off Judith, stroking his fingers through her wispy hair.
He thought he and Dad had lost her, the weight of it hanging over their heads for weeks, but here she is, cradled in Carl’s arms, safe and unharmed. He looks up at the rustle of dry leaves, but it’s just Dad, his posture relaxed for the first time in days as he settles down on the sleeping pad all three of them share.
“You should get some sleep, Carl,” Dad says, offering to take Judith from his arms. “We’re moving at first light.”
Carl shakes his head. “I wanna hold her,” he says, hugging Judith against his chest.
“Alright,” Dad says, combing his fingers through Carl’s oily hair, his eyes fond. “But it’s still your bedtime.”
Carl closes his eyes, his sister’s small body nestled in his arms, Dad's comforting presence by his side lulling him to sleep.
It’s still dark when something wakes him up. He can sense Daryl and Abraham nearby, walking the perimeter and watching over their sleeping pack. Dad is asleep behind his back, one arm draped over Carl’s hip, his fingers curled around Judith’s woollen sock.
His sister lets out a sleepy snuffle against his chest. The sound draws Carl's attention to his shirt, and the fact that it’s soaking wet, clinging to his pecs like a cold and clammy hand.
Is he bleeding? Has he been bitten?
Carl claws at his shirt, trying to peel the damp fabric away from his chest. The skin there is tender, a trail of something wet leaking down his ribs.
“Dad?” Carl whimpers, his scent souring with panic.
His father senses his distress even through sleep, jolting awake with a loud snort. “Carl? What’s wrong?” he hisses, hovering over Carl, one hand reaching for the handle of his ax.
Carl blinks up at him, his fingers trembling against his chest. “I-I think I’m bleeding.”
“What?” Dad sits up and urges Carl to relax his hold on Judith, settling her on the sleeping pad. He presses his palm to Carl’s chest, and if he’s alarmed, he doesn’t let it show on his face. “Lift up your shirt. Let me take a look.”
Carl does as he’s told, peeling his shirt up to his armpits, showing his bleeding chest to Dad. “Is it bad?” he whimpers, too scared to look.
Dad studies Carl’s bare chest in the fading firelight. There’s a brief flash of shock on his face, but it settles into something unreadable as he presses the pads of his fingers to Carl’s tender nipple and brings them to his mouth for a taste.
“You’re not bleeding, honey,” Dad says, spitting something into the shrubbery, his gaze shifting to Judith who slumbers between them.
Carl frowns. Did he dream the whole thing? He lowers his gaze to his chest and stares at his nipples, hard and pointy from the night air. When he presses his hand to his left pec, something squirt out of his nipple.
“W-what is this stuff?”
His dad clears his throat, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “It’s milk.”
“What?” Carl yanks his shirt down, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t even have any pups.”
“You are too young for that,” Dad agrees. “But I reckon our reunion with Judith must’ve triggered something in your body. Some instinct to care for your sister going a little haywire."
Dad looks a little guilty, like it’s somehow his fault that Carl’s body has been pushed into something it’s not ready for.
“I’m making milk for Judith?” Carl gasps, feeling a little queasy. Isn’t it weird? To be full of milk for his father's pup and his own sibling.
Dad lifts Judith into his arms, his expression unreadable when he says, “Do you wanna try feeding her?”
“Seriously?” Carl squirms, glancing around at their sleeping pack mates. “Isn’t it…wrong?”
Dad settles behind Carl’s back, shielding him from any curious eyes. “Nothing wrong with feeding your hungry sister,” he whispers, urging Carl to expose his small tits. “Come on, let’s give it a try. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Carl holds out his arms, feeling small and gangly and awkward as Dad settles Judith against his chest. Her eyes flutter open at the sweet scent of milk, and she blinks up at Carl, pursing her tiny mouth.
“Alright, I think she knows what you’re offering,” Dad says, cradling her head gently in his big hand, lifting it toward Carl’s milky nipple. “Just relax and let her latch on.”
“O-okay.”
Carl’s shoulders jump when he feels his sister nuzzle at his small breast. She opens her mouth, and Dad helps her to latch on, supporting her head as she begins to nurse from Carl.
A shiver passes through Carl’s spine, his skin prickling with goose flesh. The rhythmic pull of Judith’s mouth on his nipple feels weird, and he can’t shake the feeling that what he’s doing—feeding his own sister under his father’s watchful eye—is somehow fundamentally wrong.
“You’re doing good, Carl,” Dad murmurs, like he can sense Carl’s discomfort, “providing for her.”
And maybe Dad is right. It’s a harsh world they live in, every day a new struggle. At least now they won’t have to worry about running out of formula.
Carl doesn’t have a lot to offer yet, and Judith drains him with a few hungry suckles.
“It’s alright. You’ll start makin’ more once we get a proper routine going,” Dad says, like it’s perfectly natural for his fifteen-year-old son to start nursing his sister; like Judith is his baby now.
Dad unzips the duffel bag where they keep their change of clothes and pulls out a clean t-shirt for Carl, shielding him with his jacket as Carl changes out of his milk-soaked shirt.
They settle back onto their sleeping pad, Judith cradled between their bodies, Dad’s hand in Carl’s, their little family whole again.
As they settle in Alexandria, fifteen-year-old Carl worries her dad's attraction is fading. But Rick, ever the protector, is torn by his intense feelings, fearing he might hurt her if he gives in to her pleas for sex. A day spent watching Carl play with Judith in the sprinkler pushes them both to their limits.
Fourteen-year-old Carl feels a mix of violation and vulnerability after his first sexual experience with Ron, which was coerced by a stranger on Omegle. Seeking solace, Carl turns to Rick, determined to find comfort within his father.
