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404writes · 1 year

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Imagine: Alden and Carl at work

Summary: Alden and Carl are both apprenticing as blacksmiths at Earl's shop in Hilltop, finding comfort in staying late and working on their own projects, bonding over not much else, except Enid.

Notes: Kinda jumbling around the timeline here. Post-whisperer era, Alnid exists

Word Count: 620

A/N: this is just a little imagine type piece i wrote, if this is well-recieved i might write more in this format, it was really enjoyable to write with no real end goal, but rather to play around with a scenario. -404 ~

They'd stayed late again, Earl had left many hours beforehand, and neither of the boys knew what time it was. On nights like these, Alden was usually the first of the pair to depart, leaving Carl to potter around alone for however long he wished. But tonight, they wrapped up around the same time. They usually kept to themselves in this setting, working alongside each other but never questioning what the other was doing. That's not to say they weren't friends, they got along excellently in a social setting, but they mutually understood the boundaries set at work. They both used the place as somewhere to unload and mindlessly do the job they enjoyed, conversation would make it redundant.

A routine had been established, they had their own space, their own equipment, and the handful of phrases that were acceptable to use during a late-night session. Alden would work at the storefront, tinkering with pieces of scrap metal, Carl would stay out back, enclosed in a corner, usually sitting on a bench doing a task secretively. They'd cross paths to remove their tools from the shelf which they all resided, but apart from that there was no physical indication the other was in the shop, only the knowing reassurance that they just were.

Alden was usually the one to initiate the nightly, short-lived small talk, only when Carl was in his physical presence. "Stayin' late tonight?" "Think so, you?" "Yeah, got stuff to do." "Work? Or a project?" "Project, seeing what kind of rings and stuff I can make with that scrap metal Earl left." "Oh, that's cool. For Enid?" "Yeah, she says the rings she steals from the dead hardly ever fit her, I told her she'd have more success taking a less morbid approach to jewellery shopping, but she insists it'd feel immoral to get them from an old world shop. Hopefully she'll let me give her some fitting, handmade ones." "God, I can just hear her saying that. She does it with their pockets too! She'll clear them out and find something she likes, get so excited, and act so stunned that she found it, like she's the luckiest person alive! As if she couldn't have just raided any old house and found ten of the same thing."

They'd both laugh.

After an exchange like that, Carl would wish him luck, Alden would tell him not to stay too late that night. By the time the last sentence was finished, they'd both be out of sight.

Although they were decently close, they both got a majority of their information about each other through Enid. She'd tell Alden how awesome Carl was, she'd talk to Alden every time she got back from reading comics in the forest with him, telling him how it was nice to have a friend like that. She'd talk about his family too, walking him through her plans to go back to Alexandria with Carl when he next went back, because she really missed Judith. Alden soaked up the information.

Enid would tell Carl how happy she was with Alden, and how she had a gut feeling he was the man she'd be with forever. She'd tell him how there were still people out to get him, because he was once a saviour, and how it scared her, especially after it once got him badly injured. Carl would agree with her, and tell her that he's happy for her, that she's made a good decision choosing him.

Enid was happy she didn't have to worry about Alden seeing Carl as a threat to their relationship. Even though if he did, she'd definitely see the concern as justifiable. She was also happy that she didn't have to worry about Carl becoming threatened by Alden's position in her life, she was grateful that he was nothing but happy for her.

taglist: @unadulterated-syd

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404writes · 1 year

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kinda fell off the face of the earth, have a headcanon! (apologising for the lack of content)

ignoring any and all canon,

judith was named after the song 'hey jude'. lori loved the beatles, and used to play them all the time for carl before the apocalypse. in the moment rick asked him to name the baby, he instantly thought of his mother, it was the closest he could get to homage. his father didn't need to know that.

carl hated singing for people, it was one of his most vulnerable actions (literally canon), but he didn't mind it if it were for jude. when he was sure no one else was in vicinity of witnessing it, he'd sing it for her, telling her all the stories of her mother, and how much she'd loved her. sometimes he'd get the words wrong, and sometimes he'd add extra verses just for her, she didn't mind.

judith being so young, soon forgot about it all after carl died. it wasn't until jude finally played the record mei bought for her that she heard the words again, and for the first time in so long, she was able to remember her brother's voice, and if she tried hard enough, she could convince herself it was him singing to her.

#twd #the walking dead #carl grimes #fanfiction #twd fanfic #writers of tumblr #fanfic #carl grimes imagines #judith grimes #grimes kids #jude grimes

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404writes · 1 year

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Bad Dreams - Daryl Dixon

Summary: You're back on a run with Daryl, the first since he'd been captive in the Sanctuary. Not to your knowing, he'd been suffering nightmares since, which you quickly find out.

Masterlist!! Taglist!! (new daryl and carl taglists!!)

Request: :0 I was wondering if you could do a daryl x yn fic?? nothing romantic, i would just like something simple and fluffy , like maybe daryl has a bad dream, and the reader is good friends with him , and so like yn cuddles daryl and comforts him !! :D

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Platonic!Daryl Dixon/Reader

Warnings: Mention and use of cigarettes, nightmares, platonic cuddling.

A/N: hihihi! so so sorry, i've left this for an inexplainable amount of months. i could spew all the excuses in the world but i really just lost any motivation to write. regardless of how long it has taken me, i really did enjoy writing this prompt, ty so much for the request, i hope you're still around to read it. mwah mwah <333

-S404

You couldn't sleep, but that was nothing unusual.

The night had limited hours, and both you and your travelling partner were absolutely exhausted.

So, you decided that instead of wasting the night staring at the roof above your head, you'd offer your hours of sleep to him, and take up his watch.

You slipped out of the dusty covers, creeping in a house that had been vacant for many years before you intruded.

No matter how many of these houses you would walk through, the odd feeling never got past you. The feeling of seeing all the furniture, family pictures, set dinner tables, all stuck in a random afternoon a decade ago.

Placing a hand on the front door, you expected it to creak under the pressure, but it didn't. The wood panel glided, creating a gap large enough for you to slip out of.

It was a nice house, lined with white picket fences, and gardens which you could only imagine what the contents of once looked like. It had been a wealthy home without a doubt.

That being said, it was ironic to then gaze at the man who sat ungracefully on the balcony railing of this suburban dream, smoking a marlboro red.

He sat staring outward, one leg dangling, the other acting as a rest for the hand that held the cigarette, smoke spiralling in the air.

"What're yer' doing out here kid?" He still stared in the direction of the road, you almost thought he had superhuman powers until you saw your long shadow on the ground.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought you said you were gonna quit those things." Your tone came off more bland than you expected, Daryl didn't respond.

"I can take watch for a few hours, you go get some sleep." As you said it, you propped yourself up on the railing next to him, both legs hanging off the barely six foot drop.

"Yer' sure?" He finally looked over to you, but only momentarily until he took another drag from his cigarette.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You'd been lost without Daryl, even now that he had been back with you for months, you couldn't help but feel a smile emerging every time you looked over, reminded he was actually back.

Although you had to suppress the physicality of it almost every time, you still felt it inside, the comfort just his presence brought.

Now he had just about finished his smoke, and you extended your arm to take the box from him.

"Fine," he muttered. He fumbled in his pocket for a second before dropping a small box into your hand.

He'd promised Judith he would quit, but apparently that only applied while she was around.

Daryl stood up and dropped the remaining stub into an ashtray. As he did, you spoke again. "You're not getting these back."

He didn't turn around, but still muttered under his breath. "Yer' gon be the death of me kid." The name made you roll your eyes. You heard the door click shut.

He had always called you that, since the beginning. At first it seemed condescending, but it also made sense, after all you were only a child back then.

But now, you were a lot older, an adult. Yet, you were still just "kid" and Daryl rarely used your name, even less in front of you.

You like to think that the name evolved and grew, just like both of you had. It had a lot more passion to it nowadays.

You were happy to be back on a run with Daryl.

He'd been a bit distant lately, even though it had been ages since any tragedy hit, since his return from captivity in the Sanctuary.

Of course you wanted to help him through whatever he might be dealing with, but unless he asked for it first, he'd reject any offer you had.

Rick had always said that his stubbornness would end up killing him. It was a joke, but he might not be far off.

A handful of minutes had passed and you knew that he was in bed, you took the small red box he'd passed to you earlier, to your hands again.

You opened it and inspected the contents, five cigarettes and a blue lighter.

You put one to your mouth and lit it.

You'd only smoked on a few occasions, pocketing rogue cigarettes you found on runs, smoking them out your bedroom window. Similar to what you had done before the apocalypse.

You didn't think anyone would grill you for it, but you stayed secretive anyways. It wasn't an issue, and there were no sordid intentions, you didn't want anyone thinking otherwise.

There was an awareness in you that knew some people used it to cope, and that statistic might make people worry for you and your usage. But you just really enjoyed the feeling it gave you. You liked feeling mindless.

Deep inside, you hoped that's how the afterlife felt, you hoped the mindless walking of the dead ones felt like flying instead.

It had been no more than an hour, and you'd made your way through the remaining four cigarettes, pondering on all sorts of matters, none of much importance.

However, you did think a lot about Daryl in that time. Lots of different things about him.

You relished on memories, on how strong he was for how much shit he'd been put through, and how he could never seem to express himself right. It boggled you now more than ever how he was still standing, you ran the longest train of thought thinking upon the matter.

You didn't know what put you at peace with him, but you never felt overly worried or concerned, you'd just ponder sometimes about what went on when you weren't around, if he was doing alright behind closed doors. But, you knew he could take care of himself.

There was always the lingering thought in the back of your mind that maybe he hadn't exactly mourned those months he'd lost to Negan, and might still be struggling. But you always concluded that he would be fine, he was the strongest person you knew.

With all distractions gone, the world seemed empty and silent, and you were able to enjoy it for a while. Although like all good things, it came quickly to an end.

You heard grunting noises from inside the house, and no sooner after the noise had finished ringing through your ears were you inside the house again, ignoring the way your head span after standing up.

You weren't caring to be fragile with your movements, you were clobbering through the house trying to find the source of the noise, opening doors and frequently turning your head.

There weren't any dead inside the house, which raised further confusion in you, until you opened the bedroom door.

Daryl laid on the double bed, occasionally jolting back and forth, and you could now recognise those noises as words, they weren't exactly easy to make out, but some seemed to be reoccurring quite frequently.

Of course your first instinct was to wake him, so you walked closer to the bed and held a shoulder in each hand, gently shaking him, although this trick proved unsuccessful. He stopped moving momentarily, but the vocals didn't cease.

As much as you wanted to help him, you just weren't sure how to. He'd never made himself available enough for you to even theorise how you'd go about it.

You started calling his name, hoping to wake him up. Just as the word became too unbearable from repeating it, Daryl sat up straight.

You said his name once more, which prompted him to look at you, it was then that you could see he'd been crying. Without thinking, you sat down on the bed and wrapped your arms around him.

If it weren't for the wet tears soaking into the neck of your shirt, you wouldn't have been able to tell he was still crying. You had expected him to reject the affection, you had acted on a whim and probably wouldn't have done it if you'd taken a second to think.

You waited a few minutes before moving again, you didn't sabotage the moment. He'd stopped breathing heavily, all noises had ceased, you took the opportunity to take your outermost hand away from his body and begin stroking through his hair.

He moved once and you'd thought you had ruined it, and that he was moving away from you, to turn over and never admit he'd allowed that contact for even a second. Instead, he moved closer.

You laid like that all night, occasionally taking a minute for the both of you to shuffle around. Although both of you had been awake for the rest of the night, neither of you spoke a word, it was peaceful.

You eventually fell asleep, after the sun had risen. When you woke, your body felt much lighter, and it wasn't until you opened your eyes that you realised why. Glancing down at your torso, the man who laid there overnight had been replaced by a pillow. You smiled at his gesture.

As you were rising, you heard thudding from the kitchen, you didn't have to worry, you could tell it was Daryl from a mile away. You stood up and began walking out of the room.

Upon entering the room, Daryl looked up at you, quickly looking away after you matched his gaze. You sat down at a chair next to the kitchen island he was working at. You sat in silence watching him prepare a fresh squirrel he'd gone out and hunted earlier that morning.

Eventually, he stopped what he was doing to look back at you once more, to make sure you were listening, then he muttered a single word, "Thanks." It was barely comprehensible.

He quickly resumed his activity, and as he lost focus on you, you stood up. Hesitating just for a moment, you walked closer and wrapped your arms around his side.

Whilst continuing with his task, maintaining his cold profile, he took one hand, removing it from the inside of your embrace, and re-placing it along your back, hand resting on your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, head against his chest, as you felt his heartbeat begin to slow, you wondered if he could feel your smile.

It was when he gave a soft two pats on your shoulder that you got up and let him walk away to dispose of the animal's carcass.

You stood still, watching him walk, and as he got to the door and stopped to open it, he took one look back. As he looked at you, all he said was "what're you lookin' at?" before walking out.

You sighed at his astounding dedication to the stone-wall personality. he'd always be the same, but you don't think you like it any other way.

~taglist: @unadulterated-syd

#s404writes #s404 #twd #twd fanfic #one-shot #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl one-shot #the walking dead #daryl twd #writers of tumblr #fanfiction #twd one-shot #twd fanfiction #x reader #y/n #rick grimes #judith grimes

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404writes · 1 year

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Devil's Haircut - (Carnid)

Summary: The last time Carl got a haircut was before his mother Lori died. He's finally ready for another one, and he's entrusted the process in Enid's hands.

Masterlist!! Taglist!!

Pairing: Carl Grimes / Enid Rhee

Warnings: Talk of parental death

Era: Not specific, but sometime around s10, pretending the Grimes family is still intact.

Word Count: 1.3k

"It's getting a bit long for the summer don't you think?" Enid sat cradling the boy in his own bed, whilst she ran her fingers through his hair, tangled from a long day of physical labour.

"Perhaps, but I don't mind it." He knew what was coming next. It didn't bother him as much as it used to, nevertheless he'd still sometimes catch himself accidentally holding his breath when the topic came up.

She ruffled his hair around, "Maybe I could give it a trim for you sometime. God knows when you last had a haircut." God might have known, but so did Carl, in fact, he remembered the occasion quite vividly. It was one of those memories he had clutched to in fear of losing after his mother died, she'd given him his last haircut.

After the tragedy, Carl had racked his brain for every reminder of his mother, mentally cataloguing it all, his memory was the only thing that wouldn't abandon him until he himself abandoned the world. For years he had spent hours each day making sure there wasn't one thing he'd forgotten about her.

As much as Carl wanted to honour her existence by telling everyone every story he had, part of him wanted to keep the small pieces of her that only he knew, right in his pocket. As if to remind him that she wasn't just stories, but she had actually, at some point in time, been tangible.

He could tell the story of his last haircut as much as he'd like, people would understand it, some had even been witness in the moment. But no one could understand how it felt to be protected by his mother's touch, comforted and soothed within such a trivial activity. In those last days before the world was ultimately doomed, whilst there was still hope, she'd kept only the most fragile of touches for her son, wanting to protect and shield him from what had seemed to be the short-term decay of the world. So that maybe, once the world had fixed itself, he wouldn't remember the global panic that froze everyone, only that his mother loved him.

He hadn't had another haircut since, he feared that if he let someone else handle him in that way, the memories would intertwine and his mother's touch would become watered down and worthless. It scared him.

Carl looked up from the poster he'd been blankly staring at, welcomed back to Earth by Enid's smiling face. God he loved her, sometimes he wanted to shout it from where everyone would hear, but other times he just wished to engulf her in the fact, in the comfort of his own room.

"You don't have to cut it if you don't want, it was just a suggestion. But, I do need you to help with mine tomorrow. Think you can do that?" Carl nodded his head. She planted a quick kiss on his forehead and thanked him.

They spent the rest of the evening doing their own activities, by each other's side, with only small chunks of conversation being exchanged every so often. They enjoyed the mildness of one another's company.

Enid set up on the front porch, clippers and fine combs, she carried a chair out the front door. Carl followed quickly behind, asking "So what do I actually have to do?" She sighed and replied: "Don't worry, it's nothing too laborious, just a trim."

He awkwardly approached the scissors, as if he'd never seen a pair before in his life. It took him a couple minutes, but he soon began feeling around Enid's head with his hands, reassuring himself that there was no possibility of screwing up.

She didn't rush him, and let him take his time. Enid enjoyed the closeness, and the domestic nature of the activity, it made her smile. She'd told Carl neatness didn't matter, she didn't mind whether it was raggedy or uneven, she'd live. At least it would be cut.

There was still hope inside of her that the act of cutting her hair would bring Carl around to letting her reciprocate the action on him. As she hoped, the further they progressed, the more slick his touches became, and the more carefree he was with the scissors, he might have actually been enjoying himself.

"Okay I'm done." Carl dusted off Enid's shoulders and let her come inside with him so she could view the final product. He looked proud of his work as she played around with her hair in the mirror.

Enid turned around and smiled into a kiss on his cheek. She pulled away to look at his face. Upon matching her stare, his gaze softened, "You know, maybe a small trim wouldn't hurt." Enid was ecstatic that he'd finally confirmed her this privilege.

She was quick to have him pulled away from her, as she led him back out to the porch. He sat down on the seat Enid had been sat in earlier, and she eyed up and down the length of his hair, deciding where would be safest to cut.

Carl wasn't even thinking of saying yes until he'd finished with Enid's hair. He'd seen the neighbours strolling past the house, quickly looking at the pair of them, only to smile and look away, as if they knew how sacred that moment was, even before Carl did.

He realised that these were the moments he wanted to outweigh the major events in his life, even though by comparison these ones were microscopic in importance. He wanted to make memories that didn't just bring joy upon reflection, but the ones that had also been joyous in the moment.

He didn't let these thoughts over-complicate the event, he sat patiently, feeling Enid take to his hair, double-checking every move she made. The segments of silence were constantly broken by pieces of playful conversation, which brought the pair to laughter. It was a peaceful environment, and Carl felt as though the interaction was encased by a small bubble, which no harm could penetrate.

~ Enid put the scissors down and took one final glance at her completed handiwork before telling Carl she had finished. He didn't immediately rise, he was still savouring the last of it, but as Enid followed him back into the bathroom, she was almost as excited as he was.

Carl took one look at himself in the mirror before letting out a single smiling breath. He could barely notice a difference in length and style, although he had to admit the load felt a lot lighter, and would do him much better in the increasingly warm oncoming weather.

"Do you like it?" Enid asked, the few seconds of silence had been too much for her, awaiting his feedback was painful.

"Yeah, you did good, really good." He looked at her once more, taking visual screenshots of the moment, that would last forever in his memory.

The thought of his mother didn't even hit him until well after the event had ceased, and the two of them were preparing a Grimes family dinner in the kitchen. But upon taking one glance at her, Carl concluded that he didn't mind that his mother's memory was beginning to become entangled by hers, in the end all his memories boiled down to love, and he loved her now more than ever.

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404writes · 1 year

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being raised by daryl dixon: part two

Masterlist!! Get added to my taglist!!

Being raised by Daryl Dixon masterlist!! Being raised by Daryl Dixon taglist!!

A/N: ty for all the love on part one!! mwah mwah!! i rlly wanna put it out there, the strong group bond exists! that just isn't the focus of this story so it does get skipped over a bit. also i apologise for this part covering such a short time span. did also change y/n to be feminine, it's needed for some of my later ideas to make sense, which you begin to see in this part. hope you enjoy!! <333

-S404

Warnings: Just normal TWD stuff! Also kind of a filler part, nothing too serious happens, just a ton of fun Dad Daryl moments!

Word count: 1.3k

After the ordeal at the highway, the group spent months travelling on foot. It was during this time your bond with Daryl really grew stronger. You had learnt not to complain about being hungry, or your legs being tired, but Daryl didn't need you to say it for him to carry you on his back and give you more rations than he could spare.

He spent a lot of time separate from the group, hunting whatever animals remained out there. He realised then, that he was doing this for the whole group because he cared about them, not just because he had to.

After a few weeks of travelling, the group reached a promising small town. Hershel was given the responsibility of watching over you whilst houses were cleared, as Daryl was out hunting. That day you got into an altercation with a walker which ended with a bite taken out of your sneaker.

When Daryl came back and Hershel informed him on the situation that day, everyone fell silent in the next room to hear what he would say. "I don't care if she didn't get bit ol' man. If she ever come back to me with a hair plucked out of her head, or god forbid an actual injury, whilst yer the one caring for 'er, you will never see the light of day again, yer hear me?" As Daryl walked into the room, everyone pretended to have not paid any attention.

Over the next few days, Daryl found you proper hiking boots and began teaching you basic knife skills. You told him you were jealous of Carl, because he could shoot, Daryl promised to teach you how to shoot when there was the leisure time and ammo to spare. He stayed around the group as much as he could until he was confident you wouldn't be found in that situation again if he was gone.

Back on the road, scouting out a grocery store, you found a box of pregnancy tests and gave them to Lori because you read the word "pregnancy" and thought of her instantly. She laughed and said "God I can't wait until we really settle down and get these kids learning again." Shortly after, her and Daryl got into an argument because he thought teaching you how to hunt was more important than teaching you how to read, because "Yer don't need to read 'rabbit' to kill it."

You felt much safer after arriving at the prison. As promised, the second working on the prison's security wasn't mandatory for him, Daryl began taking you outside of the perimeter to teach you how to shoot. You were such a natural that after a week of practise, Daryl could move onto teaching you what he really wanted to, hunting skills.

One day, you and Daryl were tracking a squirrel, and just as you were about to take a shot at it with his crossbow, you stepped on a stick and alerted the creature. As it started to scatter away, Daryl ran after it, eventually pinning it on the floor, letting you take the shot again, he knew how much it meant to you.

You were there to witness Lori's death, and it devastated you. You watched everyone piece themselves back together eventually, but you felt on edge constantly, feeling as though something like that could happen again easily at any given time.

You moved into Daryl's cell to make yourself feel safer. At first you snuck in during the night with your pillow and bear, and slept on the cold concrete floor. You woke up that morning tucked into the bed. The next night when you went to sneak in, you were welcomed by three stacked mattresses on the floor, with pillows and blankets on top ready for you. The two of you never said anything about it, but it became routine.

Daryl took on Judith very well, and you helped him look after her whilst Carl and Rick were grieving Lori. You loved the baby. Daryl left you with her once and came back to you telling her that she was "going to beat the world." He told you that "she'd only be learnin' from the best." That made you smile.

When Maggie and Glenn decided to give each other haircuts in the prison barber's, you begged Maggie to cut your hair like hers. Daryl said no because "you'd regret it, yer love your long hair don't ya'?" But really he just thought you'd look so much older with it cut, he didn't want you to grow up. When you told him it was annoying and got in your face all the time, he offered to braid it for you instead. He didn't know how to braid. He got Carol to teach him soon after the exchange, and prepped himself up heavily for the moment you finally came for him to do it.

You finally felt comfortable in the prison at night, so you started sleeping alone in your cell again, that was until Carl came to you one night asking if he could sleep on the floor, Judith was being too loud in the other cell block where he usually slept.

You and Carl spent the next day moving a second bed into your room, Daryl helped you on the condition you wouldn't tell Rick he was involved. You all ran and hid after dropping the mattress from the balcony which made Rick call out "What in the hell was that?" He walked into the silent cell block, but caught you all after Carl started giggling too loudly, Daryl bolted away from the scene and Rick chased after him. You were sore from laughing afterwards.

Daryl made Carol help him give you the boy talk that he felt was growing necessary. Carol gave you the entire talk whilst Daryl sat next to her occasionally grunting in agreement. The only contribution he made was when Carol stared at him, trying to get him to say something encouraging. He said "If a man... or a woman, up to you. If they ever try pull anything on you that yer don't like, you remind 'em who taught ya how to kill." As you looked at him mildly confused, Carol definitely regretted allowing him to speak.

For your thirteenth birthday, Carl recruited Daryl's help to bake a cake for you. They sneaked into Rick's farm to milk the cow and collect eggs. The milk was an easy grab, but they found there were no eggs at all. Daryl, in frustration, held a chicken at knifepoint, cursing at it to "scare it into layin' something." Carl just stared at him. They ended up surprising you with a chocolate bar instead.

You became aware of a prisoner being held hostage in the prison, no one would tell you what her business was being around in the first place, so you decided to speak to her yourself. Michonne explained Woodbury to you, about the Governer and what he would do if he knew the prison existed. But the information that shocked you the most was of Merle's survival.

You knew that if faced with his brother again, Daryl wouldn't know what to do with himself and he'd end up losing all the progress he'd made in the group. You had to look out for him just as he looked out for you. You had to kill Merle before Daryl even caught a whiff of his living existence.

~ taglist: @unadulterated-syd @darylsgarden @lilfishyyyy

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404writes · 1 year

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being raised by daryl dixon: part one

Masterlist!! Get added to my taglist!!

Being raised by Daryl Dixon masterlist!! Being raised by Daryl Dixon taglist!!

A/N: this is just a little freestyle thing (idk if you can even call it a fic) i wrote. easing back into writing and i've been wanting to make a post like this for a while! hope you enjoy, mwah mwah <3333

-S404

note-able that y/n is the same age as carl. y/n is more feminine, although i believe it is easy enough to brush off if needed.

word count: 1k-ish

At the start, Daryl was just another member of the group, if it weren't for his temper and tendency to separate himself from the bunch, you probably would have been too caught up in everything else to notice him.

You were interested in what business he had being around the group, he didn't fit in whatsoever. Occasionally, Shane or Rick would catch you staring at him curiously, they'd redirect you every time, they didn't want you bothering him.

After getting over the hurt of losing his brother, Daryl started to involve himself in the group and became helpful. At some point he began noticing you.

You'd been orphaned shortly after the beginning of the apocalypse, both parents dying on the highway into Atlanta. If it weren't for Carol a few cars behind, immediately taking you in with her family (much to Ed's dismay), you would have died there too.

After learning that information, as well as of the hesitance of the others to take you under their wing, Daryl constantly kept an eye out for you from a distance.

It first happened around the campfire at dinnertime. He'd notice you weren't sitting with the kids, and would be quick to appear at your side. He'd look at you, decide you were getting too thin, and shovel half his food onto your plate most nights. Of course, making sure no one was looking at his display of affection first before taking action.

Still, he never spoke a word to you, and wouldn't be caught tending to you if there were others observing, he couldn't let himself be seen as weak, or 'motherly' as Merle would call him if he was there to see.

Daryl didn't know how to care for a child, that was apparent. He'd watch Carol during the day, and see how she loved you and made you smile. He took serious mental notes.

He got better as time went on, asking "How're ya doin' kiddo?" frequently, and letting it be known to the rest of the group that this kid was his. You tried to hug him a couple of times, but his still stature made it clear this wasn't something he was open to.

At the CDC you saw him happy, he was laughing and conversing with the rest of the group, cracking jokes and getting along with people. It was definitely a sight.

At dinner one night, Rick let Carl try some wine, afterwards you looked straight over at Daryl and he said "No way in hell," to which everyone laughed. He never said anything, but that moment was special to him, he knew he had won you over after that, you had looked to him for approval first in that moment, even though it was over something so trivial.

Daryl was furious at Dr Jenner after he revealed the CDC was going to self-destruct, not because he was betrayed, but because you were. Shane had to restrain him from punching the Dr square in the face.

Everyone grew bleak after the CDC, especially after Sophia went missing. You lost Daryl for a while there, he was gone all day and even nights sometimes, searching for her. You spent all your time with Lori, sitting with Carl, you two had grown close.

One night after returning to the highway, Daryl noticed you waiting on top of the RV with Carol, it took him a while to realise you had been waiting for him. It clocked to him how absent he'd been. He came back with a stuffed bear for you the next day.

After Carl got shot, a lot changed. No one had attention to give you, except for Carol. So far she had acted as a maternal figure to you, her presence brought you comfort whilst Daryl was gone, you knew he trusted her. She was projecting her lost daughter to some extent, and you were aware of that, but you let her braid your hair and tuck you in at night anyways.

A few days into your stay at the farm, you were reading a book next to Carol when Maggie came over to introduce herself. She thought you were Carol's daughter, which stung for both parties. Later that night whilst looking for Daryl, you stumbled across Carol crying to him about the earlier exchange.

You watched Sophia stumble out of the barn, you were in the back of the crowd. Everyone fell silent, frozen, some cried, you just stood there. You weren't exactly close with Sophia, but it felt more real than any death you'd experienced thus far. Daryl had to restrain Carol for several minutes, although after the first the hold seemed like more of an embrace.

Eventually, after everyone else had left the scene, you walked up to the pair who remained. Daryl, upon seeing you, moved closer, he held you in his arms for the first time and did not let go. In that moment, he swore to never let you meet that kind of fate.

You watched him blame himself for Sophia's death for months. You'd stay awake some nights and eavesdrop on him and Carol talking. He'd be talking to her about everything that had happened, and without prompting, she'd periodically tell him it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have prevented it, and that she didn't blame him. He hated that it worked.

On the night the barn burnt down, you had been playing cards with Glenn, you left in a car with him and Maggie. He drove as Maggie held you in the backseat, you were weeping, scared of the uncertainty in the group's survival.

Your group was the last to make it to the highway, everyone was relieved instantly after your arrival. Although you had all mostly made it to this checkpoint safe, the group had to deal with the question, where to next?

taglist: @unadulterated-syd

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404writes · 2 years

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Drunken - (Carl Grimes)

Masterlist !! Get added to the taglist !!

Summary: Attending a welcome party for some new-comers in Alexandria, you find yourself a bit more intoxicated than you expected to be. Spencer attempts to make a move on drunken you, but a certain sheriff's son isn't having any of that.

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Carl Grimes / Female!Reader

Warnings: Attempted non-con. Potential second hand embarrassment (or whatever you class drunken confessions as), protective Carl. just a bit of crushing tbh.

Deanna loved to throw parties. Every time the community was due celebration, no matter how small the occasion was, she would host everyone at her place the same night.

Generally, these gatherings served as a break, a time which no one had to worry about surviving. You'd all dress up in your best clothes, do your hair all pretty, and maybe even put on a bit of make-up.

There were always drinks, but you only sometimes drank. After a certain incident a few years back at the CDC, you loosely vowed to never drink again, you wanted to avoid the embarrassment of another hangover for the rest of your life.

You had drunk since, but never overdone it.

Deanna was hosting another gathering tonight, and it was going to be a big one.

Recently Alexandria had gained a handful of new faces, none of which you had come to know personally. The most you knew about these arrivals was that they'd lost one of their group recently, days before Rick had brought them in.

There hadn't been new people in the community for a long time, hence why tonight would be a special celebration. There would be extra cake, wine, and music. In itself that was more than enough reason to attend.

You always found it a bit awkward to attend these parties. You were only eighteen, and the age gap between you and your friends in a setting like that was more than noticeable. Although you fit in fine normally, you didn't exactly fit in with them at parties, and nowadays there weren't many kids your age to hang around with either.

You had Carl, but he wasn't one for parties and rarely attended. However, you wish he did, these gatherings would be a lot more enjoyable with someone like him involved.

You hadn't been the closest lately, but you'd take what you could get.

Tonight you wanted to have fun, and as long as you weren't timidly stood in the corner of Deanna's living room the whole night you could probably be successful in that goal.

You never really "dressed up" for anything. You had no aversion to it, but dressing up did feel a bit weird, and you have always been a bit more of a tomboy. Tonight however, you had found a dress you were actually looking forward to wearing.

The piece of fabric was wine red, with a low v-shaped neckline. It had slim straps and barely covered half-way to your knees. Wearing it you still felt odd. Your shoulder-length hair left your upper half feeling quite bare, to which you added the necklace you always wore; a simple black chain, bearing two gold rings attached, their origins significant to you.

For shoes you had borrowed a pair of basic black heels from Michonne, something simple was all you needed.

You gave yourself a one-over in the mirror, brushing a piece of hair behind your ears, and spraying yourself with a vanilla-scented perfume just one more time.

It was quiet to begin, the further down the sun set, the more people poured into the house. You found yourself engaging in small talk with some of your friends, asking Glenn how Maggie was doing at Hilltop with Hershel, catching up with Rosita and Eugene, overall having a good time.

Drinks were being passed around, and before you knew it Glenn had passed one into your hand. It would have been rude to decline, so you drank.

In truth you'd never been that opposed to it, you just knew you weren't the best drunk. Besides, even if you drank tonight, another opportunity wouldn't arise for months, it couldn't become a problem.

Your attention was fairly spread out until one family made their appearance. Him. Carl walked in sporting a brown suit, black tie with a white shirt, and converse. He looked handsome at his worst.

You were still sober enough in thought that when you caught yourself looking him up and down, you were able to stop immediately and scold yourself for it.

You and Carl were complicated. The two of you could be described as best friends, but that only being because there was no one else to befriend apart from each other.

Don't get it wrong, both of you had a lot of love for one another, and could rely on the counterpart in a life or death situation, and you were willingly friends despite the conditions.

However things sometimes seemed odd in a different sense.

You hadn't ignored the recent distance he'd taken from you, or the protectiveness he'd display toward you still. A few times you thought you'd seen him gazing at you from the corner of your eye, but he was probably just looking out for you.

The thought had crossed your mind on a few occasions, that maybe he acted this way because he felt something more for you. You put it down to you being stupid, wanting him to feel that way.

But you never really did, at least not as far as you would admit.

You concluded that Carl seemed happy enough to stick with his family for now, so you decided not to bother him. Maybe it was best if you too, gave him some distance, even if it were just for tonight.

You stuck with the group you had previously been with for another hour or so, continuing to drink and engage in light conversation.

Around this point, the day was fully sunken into a pitch-black night. It was at this time when the gathering turned into a party. Eugene had set up an iPod to play music through speakers, and the drunken adults would all let loose and begin having fun.

As the couples danced and everyone grew more than just slightly drunk, you decided it wasn't your scene.

You yourself had well surpassed tipsiness, and were finding the noise level to be overstimulating.

You began to make your way outside, slithering past all the people you had previously been mingling with.

You felt a cold breeze on your face and body as you stepped out the front door, instantly sending a shiver down your spine. Every minute that went by you felt yourself falling deeper into your drunken state.

For now you could still conduct yourself in such a manner that was almost acceptable, but it was a complete act. Realistically, inside your head you couldn't process the simplest of thoughts.

"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, you're looking fine tonight." You looked up from the ground almost stupidly to see the one and only Spencer Monroe.

He was a complete dick, but admittedly he was quite attractive.

"Spencer, the flattery's nice, but I'm not into you," you replied, knowing exactly what he was after tonight.

"Well I don't think it would hurt to pretend just for one night, don't you? You know how hard it is to pull the ladies around here." He certainly had a charm, but it was easy to see through, even in the state you were in.

You looked him up and down, noticing the black shirt he wore, which only half the buttons were done up on. His appearance was definitely alluring, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to give in.

Throughout the exchange he had grown closer to you, and you could now even smell the cologne he had on, it smelt quite appealing.

"Well, I guess-" Your sentence was stopped short, by an abrupt voice.

"Come on Y/N, let's go home." You looked up to see the sheriff's son, whom you thought didn't want to be associated with you anymore, gesturing his hand out to you, words brief but not strict.

"She's staying here, she wants to come home with me," Spencer grew annoyed at the cockblock Carl was playing as.

After that you lost track of the words spewing out of both of their mouths. You knew they were arguing, and that it was loud, although not louder than the noise inside.

Next thing you knew, Carl had your hand and you were both walking in a direction away from Spencer. You glanced up from the ground to see the irritation on Carl's face, annoyance suited him.

A pang of guilt washed over you, as you realised you were the reason he'd gotten so worked up.

"You know I wasn't actually going to do anything, with him," you were self-aware enough to feel your words slurring.

"Even if you weren't. Do you even know what he would've done to you?" Carl's voice was shallow, filled with concern.

"It's just Spencer, we all know he's a dick." Your response barely related to the previous statement. By now you'd become a drunken mess.

As you continued walking, you suddenly became conscious of the fact that you were wearing heels, which caused you to trip over almost immediately.

At this point Carl still had a firm enough grip on your hand to catch you mid-fall.

You were only stuck in an awkward position for a second, before you were both stood back up, catching your breath.

You stared at the boy, he really cared for you, which in this exact moment you found bewildering and attractive.

"What?" He'd noticed your gaze planted upon him.

"You're just really attractive." The words slipped out easier than you'd like to admit.

Carl gave you a slightly disappointed smile before replying, "Tell me that again when you're sober."

Before you could reply, he spoke again. "Oh shit you must be freezing," you hadn't even noticed the shivering which was progressively getting worse, coursing through your body.

However a short second later, you found it hard to distinguish those shivers from the newly arrived butterflies running down your shoulders, on the spots he touched whilst sliding his brown suit jacket over you.

You were both quiet for the rest of the walk to Carl's house, your fingers didn't even briefly brisk across each other again, as if they forgot how tight they had been held as one before.

Carl wasn't silent out of anger or embarrassment, but confusion. You had unknowingly spoken a truth that you couldn't even admit to yourself in the most sober of moments.

He was terrified to open his mouth once more in case he said something that made you realise what you had said, or even worse that you didn't mean it.

But of course, you couldn't sense the change in mood.

Once Carl had successfully gotten you into the Grimes' house, safe from your own embarrassment and stupidity, he took you up to his room so you could sleep it all off.

You were already trying to climb into his bed once he realised that you were still in that stupid dress, the one which stopped him from talking to you all night, because he was scared of becoming flustered by how beautiful he thought you looked.

"How about you change into something else before going to sleep?" He thought it'd be for your best, even if you were too drunk to notice the uncomfortable fabric on your skin anyways.

Carl turned around to grab you some clothes of his to sleep in, just a pair of shorts and a singlet. After handing them to you, you immediately began to undress.

He was a bit too late to turn back around. He hadn't seen much, but it was enough to fluster him just like he'd been scared about. Luckily for him there was no way you would notice.

"Carl you know you don't have to be like that, I don't have cooties or anything." The chuckle you gave after that made the boy sigh.

"Just, get into bed, you need sleep." He also just needed time to think, but he wouldn't tell you that.

"Alright alright," you got into bed, laying down and making yourself comfortable.

Had of given it another 30 seconds, and you would have been asleep, but you weren't done accidentally causing havoc.

"Carl, I think that we would make a great couple. Like have you ever thought about it? Apart from the fact that you're Rick Grimes' son, every chick here wants to be with you. And then there's me, need I say anymore?"

Carl couldn't muster up any kind of response, he could deal with it at some other time

"We can talk about it in the morning, I think it's a good idea, plus I really like you." If not stopped, you probably would have kept going anyways.

"Goodnight Y/N." Carl walked out of the room, letting out another sigh, bigger than last time.

Of course, you woke up with zero recollection of the night before, and after waiting over a week for you to "talk about it in the morning," Carl had to convince himself what happened was real.

But you, you were just confused why he was looking at you funny.

A/N: Ahhhhh, hihihi again, I really hope the ending was okay, looking back at it, it seemed like a bit of a cop out, but we roll. Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed it, I really enjoyed writing this idea out. If you did enjoy it, I hope you consider checking out my masterlist and leaving me a like! tysm for reading my fic!

-S404

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404writes · 2 years

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There is a Light That Never Goes Out - (Carl Grimes)

Masterlist !! Taglist !!

Summary: You and Carl are finally allowed on a run by yourselves. As you settle down for the night in a small house in the woods, Carl discovers a record player. Word Count: 1.8k~ Pairing: Carl Grimes / Female Reader

Warnings: None ! Just some one on one Carl time, featuring a little bit of kissing. A/N: This fic is loosely based off of "There is a Light That Never Goes Out" by The Smiths, it is also the song I listened to while writing this fic. Feel free to listen to it or any song by The Smiths while reading, I think it matches the fic.

-S404

Runs with Carl were always fun. You weren't the most successful pair, and you never came back with more supplies than expected, but these small outings gave you time to be outside the walls, to be free. Usually you were accompanied by another person or two. Rick said it was for efficiency, but you both knew he just wanted the two of you to be the safest you could possibly be out there. This time it was different though. After telling Rick repeatedly that he's "16 now" and can be trusted on a short overnight run, Carl managed to gain his father's trust, and Rick agreed to send the both of you out locally for the night to scavenge. It might not have been anything that special, just a two day expedition ten miles out from Alexandria. On a mission to search nearby hunting cabins for guns, canned food, anything that you could scrape up really. However it was special for you, you'd never been away from Alexandria without multiple other members of the group for a long time, ever really.

"Alright you two, remember no detours, and if anything is the slightest bit off you come straight back." Rick was going through both of your bags, making sure you had the correct supplies and protection. He had a mixture of worry and pride on his face. He wasn't against the idea of you two having independence, this just wasn't his ideal way of allowing it. "The car should have enough fuel in it to get you there and back easily, remember all the things I taught you in your driving lessons, don't be stupid." You wondered how long he would have gone on if Carl hadn't stopped him. "Dad we'll be fine. I know you have doubt, but we can take care of ourselves and each other out there." The worry in Rick's face didn't subside.

You couldn't help but be excited, not just for the adventure or the independence, but for the time you'd get to spend with Carl. You knew he'd indulge any urge you had for something risky or adrenaline-inducing, unlike the others. You felt like an adult in the most childish way. ~ Daylight was burning. As you and Carl hopped into the car, you occupying the passenger seat, Michonne and Rick put your bags into the trunk. You agree they were being overprotective, but no one could really blame them.

In this world all it took was one bite or a scratch and you were as good as dead.

The pair of you waved and said goodbye as Eugene opened the main gate, Michonne looked over and said something to Rick which you couldn't hear over the car engine, however after that Rick appeared more at peace.

It should have only been a fifteen minute drive, but Carl's dodgy driving was easily going to make it double. The second you had exited the gates of Alexandria you had taken your seat belt off unadvisedly, however the piece of polyester made you feel restricted.

You reached your hand out to roll down the window. It was one of those old-fashioned cars, grey exterior, two-seater, and an inside that smelt like your grandparents house did.

"I've wanted to do this forever," you said as you re-positioned yourself sideways and leaned your head out the window. The wind blew over your bare shoulders as your hair floated in the breeze, your upper half covered by nothing but a dark green tank top.

As you climbed back inside the car, you peered over at Carl to see a smile emerging on his face, the flannel he was wearing was slightly blowing backwards at the gentle wind that managed to reach his side.

"You're easy to please," he said with a slight chuckle.

"It's called having fun, you should try it sometime." Your words earned another smile out of the man.

The rest of the ride was a peaceful one, the area was decently clear, so walkers weren't something you had to look out for and could almost avoid completely.

It was also a quiet ride, after pulling the window back up and eliminating the whistle of the wind, the only noises to be heard were the occasional remarks about Carl's terrible driving, and comments about a certain protective and bearded man.

As the car halted in what used to be a forest-enclosed picnic site, you were quick to analyse the surrounding area. Rick had purposely sent you to a place which he knew would be clear, but nevertheless it was important to check anyway. As expected there was no immediate threat in sight.

You picked up the map you had been receiving directions from off the dashboard as both you and Carl exited the car. Whilst picking up your backpack from the trunk, you took mental note of the area for future reference.

"Alright Mr. Grimes, there are seven cabins marked down on this map, and we have around four hours of sunlight to get through as many as we can, the rest we can finish tomorrow." You knew you'd only get a couple done today, but at least the work ethic could be appreciated.

"And how far out's the first one?" Carl asked.

You told him that by the looks of it you'd be walking for another two miles, that was enough to make him pick up the pace.

The first three houses were slow; supplies were minimal, and few walkers had dared to show their rotting faces. By the time you reached the fourth the sun was beginning to set, you mutually decided to take refuge there for the night rather than continue.

After clearing the house, you both took the extra "leisure time" to scout around for any tidbits you could take home for yourselves.

You managed to gather a small blue cat statue for Michonne, a couple old comics, and some pencils. You were about to assess the sleeping situation just as you heard Carl call out from the main room.

"Y/N! Come check this out!" He sounded more than mildly excited, you quickly poked your head around the corner to see what he had found.

"Get a load of this, a record player!" It was the clunkiest thing you had ever seen, a giant hunk of square. You had to laugh at least a little at the oddities of the man.

"Carl we are not taking that home with us." As much as you wanted to entertain the idea, it was just mildly preposterous.

"Yeah well I know that, but look what else I found." He put down the machine and picked up something else sitting to his side.

He held the record up beside his head, "It's one my mom and I used to play, I think you'd like it too. I thought maybe we could give it a listen." Still standing in the doorway you threw him a nod, to which he quickly started assembling the machine.

~ As the music began to play, so did Carl. He started making emotive gestures and lip-syncing with the music. You glanced at him disapprovingly from across the room, to which he walked over and reached out his arm.

"M'lady?" Carl bowed down, removing his hat with his free arm.

Letting out a small sigh, you took his hand. He pulled you out into the middle of the room, where you both began to dance slowly.

"Can you tell I've never danced like this before?" Carl whispered the words gently in your ear, as to not disturb the slow rhythm of the music.

You chuckled before answering, "No, not at all. You're doing great."

The music was harmonic and slightly dull, but it spoke to you all too well. The pair of you stumbled around for the next twenty minutes, bumping feet occasionally and rarely making eye contact.

It was peaceful, even before the world ended you'd never felt this kind of enjoyment.

As the music slowed and eventually stopped all together, so did you.

You pulled away from the man soulfully. Still holding onto to one of his arms, you performed just one more twirl. Finally focusing in on his face, you could see him smiling, looking right back at you.

He looked in awe to an extent, maybe because he'd never been this close with somebody before, or maybe it was the effect you had on him. Either way, you felt the same.

You came closer to him once more, this time just slightly elevating yourself on your toes, bringing you at eye-level to his face. You leaned in, gently leaving a delicate kiss on his lips. As you smiled and pulled back, he became mildly flustered, his face turning a light shade of pink.

No words were exchanged between the two of you in the moments after that kiss. You did however, feel his gaze on your presence as you turned away and headed toward the record player, removing the vinyl and placing the circular disk in your backpack.

"Well you're easy to please," you finally broke the silence. You found it humorous how effortlessly you bewildered the man.

"It's called having fun, you should try it sometime," he spoke in a comical voice, obviously imitating you, however the voice was not one bit accurate. He looked across at you, awaiting validation for his joke.

"Well, I call dibs on first sleeping shift." You began to run to the bedroom only halfway through your sentence.

"I hate you, you know?" Carl shouted out still standing boggled in the main room.

"Sure you do Grimes, sure you do." The second phrase came out as no more than a whisper. Pleased with yourself, you crawled into a comfortable position on the bed, closing your eyes.

In the lack of visual stimulation, you could almost feel the man outside slouching down against the wall, and it was all because of you.

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404writes · 2 years

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Scars - (Carl Grimes)

Masterlist !! Taglist !!

Summary: Reader helps Carl clean his eye wound after discovering he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Word Count: 1.3k Pairing: None A/N: Forewarning, this story is very conversation heavy, tbh I wrote it for myself so I wasn't really thinking about that stuff. Hope you enjoy anyways! -S404 !! Trigger Warning: Mention of scars (Presumed but not mentioned that they're the result of physical abuse) !!

You open the door to the Grimes’ house to see Michonne smiling and Judith bubbling away in the kitchen, both organising the pantry. “Hey Y/N! what can I do for you?” Michonne called out, diverting her attention from Judith and her shenanigans. “Not much today, I was just here to see if Carl was home? I haven't seen him around today,” you felt bad, coming for him and no one else. “Oh yeah! He’s up in his room, don’t know exactly what he’s up to right now though,” Michonne tried to respond whilst stopping Judith from eating raw ingredients. “Thanks Michonne, we’ve gotta catch up properly sometime soon, I feel as if I don’t see enough of you anymore.” It was true, you spent most of your time out on runs or with Carl. Michonne was one of your best friends, and you saw less and less of her every day. “Yeah definitely Y/N, maybe sometime next week, I'll leave Judy with Olivia and we can have a coffee!” Michonne replied, enthusiastic. “Sounds great, I’ll be on my way now but let me know when you have that free day.” You felt as though you were disrupting something, as Judith continued to cause havoc for Michonne to attempt to prevent.

“See ya Y/N!" Michonne cheered from her position in the kitchen. “Bye Michonne! Bye Judith!” You said, waving and blowing raspberries at the 4 year old.

You swiftly walked up the stairs, making your way to the door of the Grimes you know best. Approaching the vacantly silent room you knock. “It’s me!” You call out although unnecessary, he’d open the door even if he didn't recognise your voice. “Yeah, uh, come in.” You take the offer and open the door. Seeing the empty-presenced room, you follow through to the bathroom, leaning on the door frame, looking at the familiar face in the mirror. Just as a smile begins to form on your face, you see the distress on the one in front of you. “Oh, not a good day?” You ask, your brows furrowing just enough for the three lines he loved so much (for a reason unknown to man) to appear. “You could say that.” He said, avoiding eye contact. “Talk to me, Mr Grimes.” You venture, leering for an answer. “It’s nothing much, just some dust and dirt got under the bandage. Now I have to clean it to 'avoid infection' or something, that's what Carson said." It may have been a satisfactory answer, but you knew better than that. “So- What’s so bad about that?” You ask, becoming more curious than sympathetic. “I just uh, I don’t think I can look at myself with it off-” He finally gave in. “Oh.” You replied, unsure of what to say, not having given any prior thought to the fact he might have felt that way.

~ A few moments passed before you had collected yourself enough to speak again. “How long have you been staring in that mirror for?” You ask. Still curious, but feeling immense pity for the boy. He turns around to look at you, appearing defeated, “too long.” “I could do it for you if you’d like, away from the mirror?” You offered your help. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He replied with a sense of urgency. You couldn't tell if he was rejecting your help because he genuinely thought it was something you shouldn't have to do or see, or if he just didn't want to open up to the vulnerability of the process. “Yes you could. It’s still bothering you isn’t it? Taking it off?” You urged. “I don’t know. I’ve just, never really taken it off for anyone before,” he replied, becoming more open by the second. You were aware he was uncomfortable having his missing eye visible to other people, even you hadn't ever really seen it before. However you weren't aware the problem stemmed this far back, had he even seen it off before? “You wouldn’t be taking it off for me. Plus, it needs to be cleaned, that’s not really an optional thing.” You sought his approval, longing for him to find the smallest bit of inner peace. Maybe allowing a sense of vulnerability would do some good for him. “Alright.” The single word brought you an intense wave of relief. “Okay, just sit on the bed, I’ll grab the cleaning stuff.” You walked into the bathroom as he walked out, grabbing the bag of things that were sitting idle before you had touched them. You came out, put the bag down on the side table, pulled a wheelie chair over, and gazed at the boy in front of you. ~

“Tell me if I need to stop. No exceptions.” You pleaded, to which he nodded. You started to brush the hair from his face, deeply analysing the insecurity his features wallowed in. Like painting porcelain, you took to the bandage with the most gentle of touches, slowly unwrapping in a way not to bring suspense, but in hopes to make the boy feel secure. As the last of the bandage came undone a single tear fell from Carl’s face. Not in any way prolonging the process, you picked up some damp cloth and began to clean, as the boy continued to weep. “You know, everyone has scars. I’m not going to give you one of those talks about how you should be proud of it, and wear it with that pride, because that’d be complete bullshit. As I was saying though, everyone has scars, some are larger, and some are easier to hide. But none of us want to wear them, and all of us feel just as vulnerable and exposed when they’re all we wear. I just don’t know why we give them that power.” It's something you'd been thinking about for a while. You looked into the boy’s remaining eye to see it staring back, you hoped that he resonated with your words. “I’ve seen yours.” The three words momentarily paralysed you. Gaining back your composure, you replied, “figured.” His brow drooped. “Sorry, I thought you should know… Why do you hide them?” He was distracted, good. “They aren’t me.” You responded, finishing up the cleaning. “Anyways, you should probably let air get to that for a few hours at least. Did Rick bring you back any new comics on his last run?” You asked, genuinely curious. “Yeah, he found the one I was missing from that Marvel series, and he brought back another series I reckon you’ll like.” A slight smile was forming at the cracks of his mouth. “Well indulge me then, let’s read.” You stood up from the chair and shifted to the bed.

“Alright we should probably get a bandage back over that eye about now.” You declared. Standing up from where you sat, the boy subtly looked at you up and down. You walked into the bathroom to fetch a new bandage for him, “Y/N, can I ask you a question?” Carl ventured. You walked out, sat again on the wheelie chair, and pulled your body closer to his, so much that your legs were touching. “Yeah what’s up?” You replied, beginning to work. “How does it look?” All his focus was on you. “Well to be honest, I think it looks totally kick-ass and banging at best. It’s a cool scar, and it has a lot of story to tell. I get why you’re insecure about it though, can’t blame you. I just hope you come around to it at some point.” You wanted to say that for a long time, but never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable. He smiled “You really think so?” You smiled too “Yeah, I do.”

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