We tell ourselves that we are the walking dead.

It only takes one second. One second and it's over. Never let your guard down, ever.

[carriesguilt-moved-deactivated2]

@grimesrickgrimes

He’s relaxed back against the wall, eyes closing for a few minutes as he winds down from the early day. After about two minutes, he heard the cooing at his feet. Opening one eye, he looked down at Judith, whose eyes were big and staring up at him.    ‘ Where’s yer dad? ’    He muttered as if she could understand him. Hands reach out and go under her arms to lift her from the floor, settling her to sit in his lap. He wasn’t good with kids… or at least that’s what he lead himself to believe. Thinking about how he grew up and never wanting one of his own just for that reason – afraid he would turn into his father at some point. He couldn’t risk that.

She was chewing on her own hand, smiling at him with bright eyes and it made his own mouth twitch at the corners into a small one. He was still wondering how she ended up in here; whether it be crawling her way over or somebody set her there. The sound of footsteps made her tilt herself back in his hands towards the noise, giggling when she saw Rick come around the corner.    ‘ Y’should keep a better eye on ‘er ‘nd not leave her jus’ anywhere. ’    She wasn’t in any danger by a very long shot, but Daryl still made the remark. 

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

     The look on his face is anything but concerned, amused maybe, confused, but not for a moment did he think his little girl would come to harm. As protective as he was of her, in such close proximity to the archer there was nothing but safety. Evidence of his trust came in the form of his body language. Casually rolling up his sleeve, hip resting against the frame of the door, eyes darting this way and that to ensure that the borders were indeed just as safe as they were mere seconds ago.

     “Nah, I don’t think y’d let her get in’ta trouble.” A simple statement, but what he doesn’t add that he’d like to, is that Daryl loves her just as much as Michonne, as much as Carol, as much as her father. But for reasons unknown he’s restrained around her, always at a distance and never... The thought trails off when she turns her attentions back to the man holding her now, chubby tiny stumps for fingers reaching out for a strand of sweat laden hair. Her fascination with his unkempt appearance a constant amusement for the ex-sherriff.

     “ ‘sides, I’m right here with her. She’s gotta learn how’ta walk on her own, right? Looks like she’s walkin’ jus’ fine t’ you.”

[sail-not-drift]

Does it hurt very much to die? Yes. But it hurts a lot more to keep living.              —Chuck Palahniuk

[stillwithyou-blog1]

– @grimesrickgrimes

Images of what had occurred just a few hours beforehand had taken a permanent place in her mind. The reality of it all, despite how much she replays everything back, had yet to set in, but she knows it could all come crashing down at any second. 

Movement beside her draws Michonne’s attention to the man who had finally decided to take a break from driving them back “home”. Good, she thought. He needed the rest. As her eyes connect with his, she finds herself at a loss for words. What could be said right now? They were all in utter SHOCK.

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

For a long quiet while he sat there in the driver’s seat, unable to move another inch, spend another moment in silence under the weight of what he hadn’t done. What it had cost them. Maybe he imagined it, but the judgement of his peers pressed in upon him from every direction, bringing into question his competence as a leader.

When at long last he summoned the courage to life his gaze to hers, his eyes seemed glossy, distant, vague.

Hollow.

But Michonne was here. She was breathing. She was solid and alive and warm and everything he had left that resembled hope for a better tomorrow. She needed him as much as he needed her. His hand falls from the heated leather wheel to stretch out to her. His only comfort he knew wouldn’t shatter what semblance of mind he’d gathered after that ordeal.

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

How long.

How long had they been out here, on the road, goaded by beasts like these things masquerading as men? Hemmed in, penned, prodded in just the right direction like cattle. No. Not cattle. Beef was slaughtered indiscriminately, inhumanely, in mass quantities. What they were was extinct.

Lemmings.

Driven off the fucking cliff head first and screaming with no other choice but to plummet into hell with every shaky breath that left their lungs. Stupid, blind, and prideful. Trusting that their own path was the right one. That they could fight and fight and fight and somehow make it out okay. Maybe what was best wasn’t fighting anymore. Maybe it was time to grovel.

Except Rick was too late to come to that decision and the childish echoing of a once-harmless and threat-less toddler’s game became something even nightmares were too afraid to touch.

          Eeny.

               Meeny.

                    Miny.

                         Mo.

Rick’s insides twisted and writhed like a bundle of snakes over a hot bed of coals, glossy eyes fervent as they darted between the members of his growing family. Surely Negan wasn’t so wrong in the head he’d actually go through with this, right? Not even the Governor had been so terrifying. Even with his tank and his seemingly limitless bullets rocking their family to the core. Negan was something worse.

The bat slowed, a stubbled jaw twisting into a shit eating grin that riled the  m u r d e r e r  in him. The silence before the first blow almost deafening if it weren’t for the throbbing in his ears. A wicked and out of beat drum sending searing pulses of pain down spine and neurons alike.

Abraham. A man of means. Of strength. Of courage. The muscle and guts of the group knelt before the bringer of his doom with nothing more than a stoic and firm kiss-my-ass glower in his fierce eyes, his tightly knit brow. Their savior before Rick even knew the potential laying in wait in their future in the man he guarded and delivered to them.

As if his extended hand in the gravel beneath them could stop the onslaught, he reached. Quietly, offering his solidarity in the hopes that maybe…maybe this was all a dream. A fucked up warped reality his mind spun in which Negan…was himself. Watching his actions destroy the ones he loved. His choices. But the bite of a jagged mineral reminded him of the clarity of the world. This was real. This was happening. And before he could open his mouth-

THUNK.

Abraham sank.

Not even seconds passed and Rick watched the tank of a man dissolve into nothing more than a corpse before his very eyes. Excessive. Brutal. Unyielding.

The warm splatter of crimson against his cheek jostled him, roused that shock from its nesting place in the back of his mind and he shrank within himself. God… God was surely dead.

There will come a time…when you won’t be…

And he wasn’t God he wasn’t. What he’d put these people through…

Daryl’s reaction not only brought him again to the present, but startled him, sent that fear in him surging, urging him to sit back down, to keep himself safe with a sharp bark of his name. But it only got worse. How could it get any worse? Negan’s bat made another round. Only this time, the game wasn’t in place. The bat came down harder than it’s first strike and-

Rick felt a scream brewing behind his lips, bubbling past a barrier that had built to keep everything in him contained.

Glenn…

His eyes lifted now, held in regard the gathered faces, and this time…this time he saw him. Outlined in the rusted color of clouded headlights. Sh-…..Shane?! A desperation and hope that never had the chance to manifest swelled within him and he- a broken man- pleaded with soul and eyes alone to  s t o p.

[betterfather-moved-deactivated2]

There were too many things going through his head – fear, regret, anger, resentment.

All of it making his head ache and chest heavy. But he didn’t dare show it. Maybe the slight widening of eyes at the first hit on Glenn’s head.

His mind was screaming at him to put a stop to this. Even if the kid was too far gone and not able to be saved. He should save them the trauma. However, he doesn’t. He’s LEARNED not to interfere; bearing scars to prove it. The times he tried in the past only ended with him a bloody, broken mess on the floor. He’s sure a few ribs never healed right or at all for that matter; heavy breathing hurt every time.

Hearing Glenn’s final words and hearing Maggie’s choked sob made his throat close up, eyes closing for a moment as he breathed deeply. He could feel a pair of eyes on him, trying to ignore them but then the violent sounds stopped suddenly. The sobs being the only sound before a loud voice caught his attention. He could see Negan looking closely at Rick’s face, bloody bat propped on his shoulder, Glenn’s head half caved in - half finished. The realization of the way Rick was looking directly at him and Negan NOTICING had him internally panicked. Shit.

The shit-eating grin that he knew all too well split across the big man’s face, a bounce in his step as he came closer; grabbing Shane by the back of his neck and dragging him over in front of everyone to see. Gravel crunched loudly under his feet as he swallowed the lump in his throat and felt the hand tighten on his skin; however, it wasn’t threatening. More playful than anything. But it still scared him to think about what was to come next. The first syllable of his name stuttered from the farm girl’s lips before she had broken into more sobs, staring at the unfinished body just a few feet away.

An all too CHIPPER voice was soon to follow:  You fuckin’ know each other! This day just keeps gettin’ better!    Then the hand moves away, only to be replaced by an arm and slight weight of the other leaning against him.

He winced and grinds his teeth, daring to send a glare at the man practically yelling in his ear. He doesn’t speak nor does he look at Rick for a long moment, but only doing so when he earned a slap to the back of the head. The desperation and FEAR was unlike Shane had seen from the man. In all the years they had known one another, this was different. His former friend had been worn down to nothing even before this encounter. The voice in his ear pulled him from his thoughts once again, making him realize things were going to get worse.

Words were calmer, but the taunting and chipper tone were still present:  You see… Shane here’s my right hand man. S’good to have one of those.    And he carried on with his taunt.

Shane’s jaw clenched tight once again, hesitantly casting a glance towards the broken man in front of them. This was only going to go downhill from here. He could tell.

The arm around him tightened as well. He could  f e e l  the thoughtful look on Negan’s face, bloodied bat being turned in the other’s hand before he straightened.

Disappointment and disapproval in his voice:  I’m not sure I know where your fuckin’ loyalties lie now.    Shane turned his head a realized Negan pointed the statement at him. Blood rushed from his face again, dread filling his chest along with fear. He started to shake his head before the arm jerked, almost sending his feet out from under him before he caught himself.

                             You’re gonna show me.

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

In this world that wanted to chew you up and spit you out more often than give you a fighting chance, being blind, deaf, and dumb was a death sentence. And yet Rick would give anything to not have to hear or see the travesty of humanity playing out in front of him. Negan’s first actions in one night alone after his introduction made The Governor and Terminus a child’s playground despite the horrors that they’d witnessed there. And they were many.

Their differences long forgotten in the morose wondering of the just fate of his friend, his partner, his brother, Rick felt an undeniable withered thread of anger flare to life inside of him at the sight of Negan’s roughened leather glove engulfing the back of Shane’s neck, a twinge of protectiveness over someone he’d long since thought dead and forgotten sparking life into his limbs.

Not again.

Not today.

Not another god damn life was going to be taken from him.

The words stuttered past his lips, a plea for mercy, for the madness to end. He got it. He understood. Please, no more. But the man in charge seemed deaf to him as he lowered the bat and flicked a small droplet of water from the tip of the waterproofed bat.

Now I just beat the holy fucking FUCK out of one of these people. But I ain’t done yet. Y’ever take one of these to a fucking watermelon? That shit’s fun as hell. Kinda like that. Here, why don’t you take this bat....and finish that for me?

What could any of them do but watch in mortification as the bastard dared jab his thick finger in the direction of the ex-delivery boy whose limbs had lessened their twitching and grew as still as death before the apocalypse.

Insult to injury, salt in the gaping wound, Negan’s bloodied bat ‘Lucille’ transferred hands as easily as if it were an oddly shaped stick found on the side of the road. No more a fascination than the bodies at the asshole’s feet, the owner of the merciless weapon running a palm over his slick black hair to ensure every strand was still impeccably placed.

Don’t stop till you can’t tell what the fuck it was before. Got it?

Rick didn’t need the added effect of watching Shane’s expressions during the exchange and so he didn’t. Didn’t think he could handle sitting idly by if he watched the man he knew break in front of him. With head downcast, dripping wet curls peeking into his view line of the gravel, he shook his head.

“Please...don’t do this. Please.” He knew how much the group had meant to Shane, even if in the end they’d wanted to crucify him for his maniacal choices. He’d only done what was needed. Rick saw that now. He wasn’t inherently evil. This would...this would  o b l i t e r a t e  the man he’d loved as his own flesh and blood. Whether he was begging Negan or Shane himself, perhaps the ex sheriff didn’t even know anymore.

[ronandersass-blog]

remember that one time in season four where carl tied a certain type of knot and said that shane taught him?

apparently shane taught him how to steal his friends girl, too.

[brickylnetwork]

He’s got guts.

[carriesguilt-moved-deactivated2]

             I was dreaming something dark                       Hiding body parts                A broken dog, a broken leg                  I left it cold, I left it dead                                                                Oh I’m a guilty one                                                          And know what I have done                                                            Yeah, I’m a troubled one                                                             And I won’t be forgiven

[andy-clutterbuck]

[X]

[betterfather-moved-deactivated2]

@grimesrickgrimes   bc ahaha fuck me up son.

he had found these people a couple of years back; a few months after he had escaped the farm. been with them ever since. later gaining the title of right hand man. if the big man was out, he was giving orders. it was a title he held proudly as it wasn’t just given loosely. he’s seen what could be done to those who go against NEGAN. it wasn’t pretty. he kept his mouth shut, however. getting away from the farm made him get his head on straight again; realizing what bullshit he had done and wouldn’t dare do again. he never told anyone about the group he was previously with. didn’t deem it necessary.

so coming across rick and his group again was nothing but a shock. they had crossed lines. killing their men then killing more. negan wasn’t happy. he stood off to the side a bit, not wanting to get in the middle of it; trying his best to stay out of the sight of rick. maggie looked a wreck - he could say he was slightly worried. he wasn’t fond of the girl, but shit. the tension in his shoulders grew as his eyes landed on carl and how close negan would get. words on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it and kept quiet. the taunting came and glenn went out of line - a moment of fear filling his chest. that kid saved his ass more times than none. he considered him a good friend - probably only friend - before rick showed up the first time. between him and carl - they were the only ones he really gave a fuck about.

                EENY MEENY MINY MO.

he’s heard it a time or two before and knew what was coming next. he never liked this part, but he dealt with it. it was different this time. his heart stopped each time he passed carl. a sense of dread washing over him. though relief soon replaced it as the bat landed on the red head. he couldn’t care less about the bastard. carl was safe. at least for now. the squelching of bone and brain filled the air along with the screams. a few moments later, the punch was thrown. he definitely wasn’t fond of the redneck at hand. however, the next victim of the bat made the color rush from his face - heart beating hard against his chest. glenn. there were a few things he disapproved of and this was definitely one of them.

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

How long.

How long had they been out here, on the road, goaded by beasts like these things masquerading as men? Hemmed in, penned, prodded in just the right direction like cattle. No. Not cattle. Beef was slaughtered indiscriminately, inhumanely, in mass quantities. What they were was extinct.

Lemmings.

Driven off the fucking cliff head first and screaming with no other choice but to plummet into hell with every shaky breath that left their lungs. Stupid, blind, and prideful. Trusting that their own path was the right one. That they could fight and fight and fight and somehow make it out okay. Maybe what was best wasn’t fighting anymore. Maybe it was time to grovel.

Except Rick was too late to come to that decision and the childish echoing of a once-harmless and threat-less toddler’s game became something even nightmares were too afraid to touch.

          Eeny.

               Meeny.

                    Miny.

                         Mo.

Rick’s insides twisted and writhed like a bundle of snakes over a hot bed of coals, glossy eyes fervent as they darted between the members of his growing family. Surely Negan wasn’t so wrong in the head he’d actually go through with this, right? Not even the Governor had been so terrifying. Even with his tank and his seemingly limitless bullets rocking their family to the core. Negan was something worse.

The bat slowed, a stubbled jaw twisting into a shit eating grin that riled the  m u r d e r e r  in him. The silence before the first blow almost deafening if it weren’t for the throbbing in his ears. A wicked and out of beat drum sending searing pulses of pain down spine and neurons alike.

Abraham. A man of means. Of strength. Of courage. The muscle and guts of the group knelt before the bringer of his doom with nothing more than a stoic and firm kiss-my-ass glower in his fierce eyes, his tightly knit brow. Their savior before Rick even knew the potential laying in wait in their future in the man he guarded and delivered to them.

As if his extended hand in the gravel beneath them could stop the onslaught, he reached. Quietly, offering his solidarity in the hopes that maybe...maybe this was all a dream. A fucked up warped reality his mind spun in which Negan...was himself. Watching his actions destroy the ones he loved. His choices. But the bite of a jagged mineral reminded him of the clarity of the world. This was real. This was happening. And before he could open his mouth-

THUNK.

Abraham sank.

Not even seconds passed and Rick watched the tank of a man dissolve into nothing more than a corpse before his very eyes. Excessive. Brutal. Unyielding.

The warm splatter of crimson against his cheek jostled him, roused that shock from its nesting place in the back of his mind and he shrank within himself. God... God was surely dead.

There will come a time...when you won’t be...

And he wasn’t God he wasn’t. What he’d put these people through...

Daryl’s reaction not only brought him again to the present, but startled him, sent that fear in him surging, urging him to sit back down, to keep himself safe with a sharp bark of his name. But it only got worse. How could it get any worse? Negan’s bat made another round. Only this time, the game wasn’t in place. The bat came down harder than it’s first strike and-

Rick felt a scream brewing behind his lips, bubbling past a barrier that had built to keep everything in him contained.

Glenn...

His eyes lifted now, held in regard the gathered faces, and this time...this time he saw him. Outlined in the rusted color of clouded headlights. Sh-.....Shane?! A desperation and hope that never had the chance to manifest swelled within him and he- a broken man- pleaded with soul and eyes alone to  s t o p.

[beautifulhurtboys]

To be honest Negan went pretty light on breaking Rick. Make him clean the axe. The correct answer to “speak when you’re spoken to” is Yes, sir not “okay”. The correct answer to “do I give you another chance” is Please, sir not “yes”, it’s never yes, he doesn’t know the answer, you do. “Right” is not enough, make him say it. Make him say I belong to you like he means it. Does this guy not even know dom 101?

[ruledroost-archive-blog]

@officerdxddy

[1-2-3-4-getthefuckawayfromme-de]

TWD Character Tropes [2/?]:

Carl Grimes

[joekeerys]

We’re gonna be okay.

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

@cneeyed

     [Hopefully this helps!]

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

❝I don’t sleep so well at night.❞

     “I wish I could tell you it gets better.          I wish... I wish I could tell you it’ll be alright.

                    But I can’t.”

     All he can do, is tug back the covers on his bed and gently splay an inviting palm out over the vacant sheet. They’ll lay vigilant together tonight, like the days before the apocalypse when it had been an uphill battle to have his bed all to himself and his wi-...

[spacecarols]

THIS HAD TO BE DONE. 

[fuckyeahrickyl]

I WAS WAITING FOR THIS.

[deliverybcy]

@aintashes @jcsus B)

[rcdneckasshole-deactivated20160]

     “Mhm,” he replied as he took two more sips, staring at the almost empty bottle. He liked this feeling when he was drunk. He was at ease and it felt good. All that time he was out there, away from this place, he could have gotten drunk – he could have but he didn’t. He didn’t need to risk the lives of others or himself for that matter just because he wanted to feel okay.

     Noticing Rick after he was already on him, he pulls the bottle close to his chest again. His body definitely felt a lot heavier at this point and he was just slightly swaying. Yep. He was definitely drunk off his ass. Downing the last bit before handing Rick the bottle with a smirk on his lips.

     “Here y'go.”

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

    Its empty. Not even a drop left in the bottom of the barrel. Exhaling softly Rick deposits the bottle in the trash can, gently so he doesn't wake Judith in the next room, and tugs out a chair for the archer to sit in using the toe of his boot.

    "Seein' as how you took the last of the good stuff, mind if I ask why?" Was it just to feel good? Or was it to forget something, maybe mask something else entirely?

[rcdneckasshole-deactivated20160]

   You could’a stepped outside and there’s ya fresh air. He wanted to say it. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he kept that to himself. Though, it was different for himself as he didn’t like being place in a closed in area. He couldn’t handle it when he was moving around with Merle and couldn’t handle it now.

   Chewing his bottom lip again, he nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. Could do that,” he says and steps over a larger limb in front of him. It could get his mind off of this – off of actually bringing up the real problem.

   “She’s got it handled. Don’t need me around to mess it up.” Did he feel that way? Yes. Carol was trying to make nice with everyone and he just didn’t fit in. As far as he’s concerned, he didn’t fit in anywhere but this was his family and he’d follow them wherever they went. Even if something like this was happening.

   It’s not that he didn’t like Rick. He did. God, did he but this was more than unexpected. He didn’t know how to react. Yeah, he’s been in these types of situations before but this was Rick. The guys he’s spent over a year and a half with – feels like his whole life at this point and to have something like that happened between them… he needed to think.

[grimesrickgrimes-blog]

    Things were going to change from here on out, he could tell that much. Daryl would start avoiding him, he himself would duck and shy away from his comrade until eventually it became natural to not see each other. And no questions asked, the rest of their group wouldn't even bat an eyelash at the fact that they hadn't been spotted together in months.

    Or maybe he was over thinking things, complicating a scenario that didn't need his help to muck up. It was bad enough he even tried let alone thought something might change in their favor. Breathing easy, he doesn't think about the placement of his feet, just lets the terrain guide him, feel the familiar dips in the earth where his boots have tread before.

    Sure enough they stumble across an untouched snare for small game, a little rustled, but mostly unharmed and still strung tight. Brows knit, he glances back at the expert for confirmation that he'd done it right the first time. So why weren't they catching anything? What was scaring off the critters?

    Heaving a sigh he decides maybe it's best to move the trap a little to the left and- sure enough the tiny tracks tell the tale. Nibbled leaves here and there, he'd put it too far off the path. So while he settles in to moving the thing, he talks. Rambles really.

    "Y'know, I'd kill for you. For Carol, Maggie, Glenn. For all y'all. And before this... I never would'a held a gun to a man's head that I didn't have to. Never thought the dead'd be risin', consumin' people, turnin' 'em into monsters. Most shockin' of all? Never thought I'd..." There's a lengthy pause here, where he seems real intent on re-tying the knot to let it slip easier once something snags it.

    "Never thought I'd look at another man and think maybe..."