#fic twd

[writtenwinchester]

An Accident

Warnings: Shooting, blood mentioned, swearing

Word Count: 731

Writer: Jill/Savannah @mistersourwolf

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

You didn’t quite remember, but what you did know, was that it hurt. It hurt like hell.

It was supposed to be simple. Get food, get medicine, get anything you could find. And go home. Go home to Daryl. But, then again. No simple run ends pretty.

The first thing you remember was gun fire going off, the confusion on your face turning into horror as you watched them, every single one of those damn walkers burst through the door, the rest was more of a blur, but the sudden feeling of warmth over through you as you furrowed your eyebrows and glanced down at the sight of blood. Was it yours? Or someone else’s? But all of a sudden a feeling of pain overwhelmed you along with confusion. Did someone shoot you? You didn’t know. What you did know, was that it was becoming more painful by the minute. Your eyes looked up, meeting with Glenn’s who suddenly panicked and rushed over towards you, your knees giving out as you collapsed onto the solid floor. Thanking the stars that the walkers around you were dead instead of alive and eating at your flesh. “Y/n! Y/n, hold on, it’s gonna be okay. See? It’s gonna be okay just hold on!”

Feeling the pressure on your wound made you groan, glancing as others ran over towards your aid, though, after that everything else was a blur. In and out, you remember small pieces. Like being in the back of the car with your head in Rosita’s lap, telling you everything was gonna be okay.

But after that, it went dark.

The bright light was blinding as your eyes slowly opened. Daryl rushed to your side, squeezing your hand to let you know he was there. Your vision was blurry but soon your eyes adjusted. A small but yet visible smile formed on your lips. Daryl’s eyes were bloodshot and it was clear that he had been crying.

“Baby,” you whispered, it was hard to talk as your throat was dry and scratchy.

Daryl knew immediately, handing you a glass of water that had been sitting on your nightstand.

You sat up, sipping at the water. The cold water soothed your throat and Daryl took it putting it back where it was.

“Imma kill whoever did this to you,” He huffed, Daryl was always protective of you. It took everything he had just to let you go on this run without him and of course something had to happen to you. “Who did it?”

You squeezed his hand, disagreeing, “Daryl, it was an accident, you-“

“It don’t matter!” He walked away, starting to pace the room. “Nah, they’re peachy fine while you lay up in this bed, it ain’t right.”

Your heart warmed because you knew this probably hurt him more than it did you. And it was extremely painful, a burning sensation had taken over your body but that was most of what you could remember.

“Daryl, baby I need you to listen to me.” You called out, hoping he’d come back to your bedside. All you wanted to do was hold him, but he was too pissed off to take into account that maybe that’s what you really needed.

You watched as Daryl mumbled swears under his breath, looking angrier than you’d ever seen. Within a few minutes he was able to calm himself down, rushing back over to your side and sitting down on the bed. His green eyes stared into yours, and you could how much pain he was in.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” You explained, tearing up. You reached out your hand, touching the side of his face and trailing your thumb back and forth.

“You scared the hell outta me.” You pulled him down, laying his head on your chest as he began to cry. Your fingers combed through his hair, trying to calm him.

“I know, baby, but I promise I’m not ever leaving this Earth without you.” You said, staring up at the ceiling, counting your blessings.

It killed you knowing how much this upset him. You wish you could just get out of your bed and continue your day around Alexandria. And you knew that’s what hurt him the most, seeing you be bed ridden. He continued crying and you started to as well. You rubbed his back, wishing to stay that way forever. Nothing else mattered when he was in your arms.

[twdfanfics]

Beaten

Request: Yes, anon

hey so idk if this is against the rules (but imma do it anyway) but i was wondering if u could do one where its like the twd cast (not the character) & ur part of the cast (instead of their characters) & ur younger then chandler (like around 15 maybe 16) & they find out ur being abused at home by ur father? like u hve them pick u up from home or something & ur in the middle of a beating, & u run out in the middle of it to go in the car & like ur father follows to where ur goin(like a con) and --

(Part 2 of the request of the one i just sent i ran out of space) where was i ? Oh yeah like he follows you to where you are all going (like a con) and you see him in the crowd and when its over or something he comes and tries to beat you again but someone stops him , like norman or something ?

WARNING: ABUSE

Words: 1086

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I check my phone for the hundredth time it seems waiting for the confirmation text from Chandler saying that he and Norman were going to come pick you up. You’re sitting in your room, trying to keep yourself away from your dad. He hated it that you were going to this con, so you thought that keeping yourself away from him and getting Norman to pick you up that maybe it would keep him happy? Or at least just content with it. You weren't sure if it was working, but you had to assume it was.

“Y/n!” yells your dad, his harsh voice making you wince. Just at the sound of his voice you want to cry. Scenarios run through your head of what he could possibly want before you’re heading out, but you have to stuff them all aside and begin to walk downstairs.

“Yes, dad?” You call back. Your voice is much quieter than his and fragile. You portrayed a smart, strong girl on The Walking Dead. Someone who has been through so much yet is still kind hearted and has a voice that could stop anyone. Oh, how you wish that you were anything like her.

“You’ll be back for dinner, right?” You wince and shake your head. Before you know it, a hand connects with your cheek and you gasp, but you say nothing. “Wouldn’t do a good job of cooking either way, would ya?” You stay quiet and let him ramble on as you fight tears from streaming down your face. A short vibration comes from your pocket and you grab your phone.

We’re here, reads the text from Chandler. You smile to yourself and run to grab your bags.

“Hey, get back here!” your dad yells. You grab your bag and throw it over your shoulder and slam the front door behind you. It’s easy to block out your dad’s yelling as you run out and jump in Norman’s car.

“Drive,” you tell them and they give you a weird look, but don’t question. Well, not yet.

“Y/n,” Chandler says, looking over at you. He sat in the backseat with you to keep you company. Or because Norman was picking on him again and made him sit in the back because he’s still a “kid.” But you prefer to think that he just wanted to keep you company. “Your cheek is really red, what happened?” You brush it off as just you blushing from running. Norman glances back to get a look and adds in, saying it looks like you’ve been slapped. You shut your mouth and plug in your headphones, not wanting to answer them or talk about it anymore. They seem to take the hint and leave you alone for now.

As soon as you get there, you’re ushered inside and are barely given a moment to breathe let alone be questioned by Norman and Chandler. However, they’ve gotten to talk to Lincoln because he comes around asking questions. You don’t confirm nor deny their questions concerning your dad and if he abuses you. That pretty much answers their questions. They talk amongst themselves and keep glancing at you. It makes you so irritated, but you’re about to go on stage in front of so many people. You can’t go out there looking upset. That’s why you just got to fake a smile and carry on.

Someone comes back and lines all of you up for who they’re going to announce. Chandler is behind you and you feel a hand gently grab yours.

“You okay?” he asks. You plaster a smile on your face.

“I’m fine, Chandler,” you say. Before he can answer, you’re walking out on stage and sitting in your seat. Everything is going smooth. Questions that come your way you’re able to answer easily and the smile never slips from your face. Before you know it, you’re not faking it anymore. Being surrounded by everyone makes you happy and seeing all the faces of fans that you’ve made happy. Every worry in your mind seems to just disappear. That is, until you see his face in the crowd.

“No,” you mutter under your breath. “No, it can’t be.” Chandler hears you and shoots you a concerned look. His hand grabs yours and gives it a reassuring grip that would make you feel better if it didn’t see like everything was starting to spin out of control.

“Y/n,” the host says, looking at you.

“Hmm? Yes?” you ask, not realizing someone had asked you a question.

“Uh, what’s your favorite emoji?” the fan from the crowd asks.

“Oh, umm,” you glimpse back to the crowd where your father is sitting and close your eyes for a moment. You’re aware how suspicious you’re acting and you can’t help it. Coming here was stupid, but running out on your father was even worse. “The double heart emoji, of course.” Your voice comes out shaky and you curse silently. “Where can you go wrong with double the love?”

Your father looks at you even though you avoid looking at him. Everyone on the panel has been trying to figure out what’s wrong. Chandler keeps a comforting grip on your hand throughout the panel. You’re not sure if you’re happy when it ends or not because as soon as you’re welcomed of the stage, you’re dad begins to move through the crowd towards you.

“Chandler,” you whisper as your dad makes his way to you. You don’t even know how he got past security. He must have just said that he’s your father and that’s all they need. “Chandler!” Your dad grabs you and hits you even with everyone around you. Fury is clearly clouding his judgement. Norman comes out of nowhere and grabs your dad off of you. Chandler drags you away from everything and to a safe spot.

You sit there for a while trying to calm down. Chandler stays with you the whole time and most of the cast. They’re not just your cast, though. They’re your family. Norman comes back a little while later, wanting to personally see to it that your father was taken care of.

“Hey, y/n,” he says as he sits down next to you. Everyone clears out to give you two some time alone. Norman plays your dad on The Walking Dead, so it makes sense for him to play it in real life. He pulls you into a hug and whispers in your ear, “You’re safe now.”

[twdfanfics]

Too Young, Too Fragile

Request: Yes, @mr-robot-x

Hey! Could you do a Rick scenario where the reader dies instead of Glenn and Abraham? The reader have 12/13 years old and she is like a daughter to him

WARNINGS: SAD????

Words: 459

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There are always going to be moments in someone’s life that they never forget. They affect your life in a way that you could never explain to anybody else who didn’t experience it. Hell, you might not even be able to explain it to yourself. Those moments can be good or they can be so bad that just hearing about them again makes you want to cry until you can’t anymore. Or maybe they make you want to kill.

That’s how Rick feels the moment that he sees Negan bash Lucille on Y/n’s head. One blow was enough to take her down. She’s not strong like any of the others who were sitting right next to her. She shouldn’t have even been here, but she snuck on the trailer because she didn’t want to leave us because she’d had a nightmare the night before that she lost everyone. Instead, it was Rick who was now losing everybody.

The crack resounded through the clearing. Nobody seemed to even realize what happened until Y/n’s body collapsed onto the ground and blood began to pool around her. Blood splattered onto Rick and he tentatively raised a hand to brush it away. That’s when it hits them all. That’s when it really hits Rick.

A strangled scream escapes his lips before he can stop himself and tears cascade down his cheeks. Y/n was too young for a fate like this. She was too young to have to do half the things she’s had to and see what she has. When he first found her close to the beginning of all of this she was so small and fragile. Nothing that fragile can survive in this world. Somehow she had, though. She kept making crowns of flowers whenever they stopped and would dance around everybody when she knew things were tense. Just her little smile would brighten up the whole world from the darkness it was always surrounded with.

“Now things didn’t have to end like this,” Negan said. “I didn’t want to do that, but you pulled my arm.” Rick took a moment before responding and when he did, it was barely above a whisper.

“I am going to kill you,” he said quietly. “I am going to kill you for Y/n.” Negan lets out a bellowing laugh that echoes all around them. Rick’s gaze is cold and deadly.

“Now would she like that?”

“We won’t know. Because you killed her and now I’m going to kill you.”

Negan laughs as he stands up, but can’t deny the chill that runs down his spine when he looks into Rick’s eyes. He’d never seen that intensity in his eyes in anyone else’s…but his own. And that’s what scared him.

[twdfanfics]

Useless

Request: Yes, anon

Would it be ok if I requested another Michonne x Female Reader? Maybe some angst and fluff? Where the reader thinks their completely useless, but Michonne helps them. And fluffy cuddles, Idk...

WARNINGS: NONE

Words: 488

I’m still on vacation (just went from one grandparent’s house to the next, barely being able to stay at home for a day before leaving ugh) so uploads will still be on a weird schedule, I’m sorry <3

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You throw down the shovel in your hand after trying to help Maggie with the farm for the last hour. Everything you tried to work on had ended horribly and you’ve had enough of it. Nothing you do comes out right, you might as well not even be here because of how useless you are to the group. They could be so much better off without you.

You let out a frustrated grunt and begin to walk back to your house to take shower or something and clear your head. You can help out later after cooling off and maybe it will turn out better than everything else has been going. However, you doubt it since the odds haven’t exactly been in your favor. Tears prickle your eyes and you wipe them away quickly.

“Y/n!” Michonne calls, running towards you. You curse silently and continue trying to wipe the tears from your eyes before she sees. You and Michonne have been together for a few months now and she’s always checking on you to make sure that you’re okay. She knows how things are for you, but no matter what she’s always been by your side. “Wait, are you crying?” You shake your head quickly, but it’s too late.

“I can’t do anything right and I’m so sick of it,” you mutter quietly. “I’m useless. Worse than useless!” Michonne wraps an arm around your shoulders and guides you back to the house. She grabs your hand and leads you back upstairs against your arguments of how you need to get back to work and try to find something you won’t screw up. Michonne only cuts you off with a look and pulls you down onto her bed.

“You know what you need?” Michonne whispers as you lay down on bed. “Relax. So come here and relax with me.” She kisses you between every word and you can’t fight the smile making its way to your lips. Michonne always knew how to make you feel better and calm you down during stressful times. And, oh, has this been a stressful week.

You rest your head on Michonne’s shoulder and wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her towards you. Everything seems perfect as she wraps her arms back around you.

“You’re not useless,” Michonne whispers. You scoff, but she ignores you and goes on. “You help out with Judith every time Rick asks you to, you’re the first person that we go to for runs because you are amazing at finding exactly what we need, and, most importantly, you never fail at making me happy. Not to mention, Carl and Rick, too. You lift everyone’s spirits when you know everyone is feeling bad.” You can’t hide the smile on your lips as she lists things she claims you’re good at. Once she is finished you find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’re not so useless after all.