words:2067 Carl Grimes x reader The walking dead Request:
Carl imagine (in Alexandria. Up to date when he only has one eye) lots of kisses and fluff (but not like overboard fluff). lol I got finals next week I need something cute. Warnings: this turned into a little smut, but there’s more fluff.
“get dressed, in the nicest thing you have, meet me on the porch at 7, we’re going on a date″ Carl runs in my room as I was retrieving a thin jacket to help Carol plant some vegetables. I nod startled. He goes to leave my room but I whistle him back. His head pops around the door and I walk over to him pecking his lips. I go to pull away and he grabs my cheek holding me close. I start laughing and he smiles pulling away. “see you later” I salute making him laugh and rush back down the stairs and outside. I race to my window to see him run up to Rick, Daryl and Aaron, he says something to them and they nod, he then rushes over to Maggie and Carol who are planting flowers and vegetables he says something to them and they also nod. what is going on? I brush it off and head outside going straight for Carol and Maggie.
“what’s up with Carl?” I ask them. I see them look at each other panicked out of the corner of my eye. “oh nothing, just wanted to see what we’re planting s’all” Maggie shrugs. I squint my eyes but decide to ignore and get on with work. It gets to about 6 and I decide to go get changed but head to Maggie, my sisters, house. I knock on her door and wait.
“hey y/n, come in you okay?” She asks me confused. I nod and bite my lip. She sees how nervous I am and sits me down on the couch holding my hand. “what’s wrong?” she asks again. “Carl’s taking me on a date tonight and I don’t know what to wear, I know that’s stupid I’ll just go, wear whatever” I sigh standing up, she grins and pulls me back down. “No you’re going to stay right her while I do you’re hair and makeup.” She grins like a little school girl. “makeup?” I ask with wide eyes. “yeah, I was saving it for a special day” She smiles. “but I’ve had it for a while now, and nothing has come up” she shrugs. I smile at her. “don’t waste it on me!” I exclaim. She shakes her head. “shh, go sit in the kitchen chair while I get it” she grins. She runs upstairs to get it while I silently sit at the chair, I’d been here so many times but with the way I was feeling it felt like a foreign country. She comes back with a small bag. She applies a little bit of eyeshadow, eyeliner and lipstick then pulls my long hair into a beautiful braid. She hands me a small hand held mirror when she’s done and I look at her shocked. “beautiful” she confirms patting my shoulders for me to stand up. I do so and she pushes the chair under and grabs my hand pulling me out of the door and into my own house I live in with Daryl, Rosita and Carol. We head up the stairs and sort through my small collection of clothes, we decide on some green shorts and a crop top.
I obviously wear my signature boots. She looks at me covering her mouth. “mum would have loved to see you like this” She whispers. I look down and hug her trying not to squash her stomach. “Love you mags” I whisper. “love you to peanut” she giggles. “no crying you’ll ruin your makeup! When Carl sees you he’s going to freak out” She winks. I blush. I look down again then look at her nervously wringing my hands out. “we’ve never technically been on a date, we’re just together, what if I mess it or something I don’t know.” I stutter. She rubs my arms. “I kind of lied. I know what you guys are doing, you’re going to love it and he’ll love you. Speaking of love, are you in love with him?” She smirks moving down to my eye level. With tears in my eyes I nod. “I think so Mags, I really really love him” She grins so hard and I blush. “come on it’s time to go” she pats my butt pushing me out the door. I slowly walk over to the Grimes household and when I look up I see Carl standing there looking as handsome as ever, even with one eye. I frown when I see he’s not wearing his hat and has an even more nervous expression on his face than I do. I silently walk up his steps and look up at him. He has his mouth open in shock. “You look really beautiful” he smiles shyly. I blush and reach up to his neck pulling him down into a kiss, he grips my waist and I sigh at the familiar feeling in my stomach- explosions. We pull away and he takes my hand leading me down the stairs.
“where are we going? we can’t do much” I question. He leads me into the middle of the street and stops. I furrow my eyebrows but he ignores me and looks back at his house nodding. Music starts playing and he grips my arms pulling one onto his back and the other in his hand.
We start swaying to the music and I rest my head on his chest listening to his heart beat. “not that I’m not enjoying it, cause I am, a lot but why are we doing this?” I whisper glancing up at him.
He pulls away with a little smirk and dips me down. I giggle when he pulls me back up. “well, we never got a chance to go to prom so I made my own” He grins looking up to his house where everyone is sitting around in chairs, beer bottles littering the place and everyone in their best clothing. They are mostly all glancing up at us. I look at Carl and pull his cheeks down to mine. “I love you so much” I whisper nudging his nose. “I love you too” he grins, making his dimples pop. I poke on of them and he rolls his eyes pecking my lips again. I whine and pull him back to me. Without thinking about the group of adults sitting and watching only yards away we start making out. When we run out of air we pull away resting out foreheads on each others.
“come on, I have an idea” he smirks. I’d trust him with my life so I follow him. We end up at the little lake, it had been thoroughly cleaned out after the whole walker invasion thing. It had filled with clean again and I often saw people swimming in it on a hot day. Carl drops my hand and I look at him him confused.He winks at me and strips himself of his shirt. I blush when I realise what he’s doing. “what are you doing, they’ll see us” he shrugs unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down leaving him in his underwear. When he sees me with crossed arms he sighs playfully and comes towards me. He pushes my arms away from my chest and holds the bottom of my shirt, he whistles signalling me to lift my arms up. I huff and he do so, so he can lift my shirt off. He then proceeds to pull my shorts down and I’m left in my underwear glaring at him but no doubt checking him out. He catches me and winks, prancing into the water.
“come on, its so nice” he yells. I stomp my foot and run into the water but immediately squeal and turn around making my way out. I feel arms lift me up by my stomach and I scream a little.
I wriggle against him and yell out. “Carl no” I shout with a giggle. Rick and the others come running but stop and grin when they see us. “Carl no! its cold please if you love me you’d let me go” I scream. He starts laughing. “ok” he says letting me go, but I drop into the cold water. He swims closer to me and I wrap my legs around his waist to try and lift myself away from the water a little bit
“I hate you” I pout. He shakes his head. “no you loooooove me” he teases pecking my nose. We hear multiple splashes around us and turn around. Everyone else was joining us in the water, most of them still dressed. Rick swims past and flicks water at us. We grin and shove some his way, this causes a huge water fight. We have so much fun messing around with everyone, the people who hadn’t decided to come in watch us from the little shore. After a while everyone starts leaving. “you love birds coming?” Rosita winks. I look at Carl and he stares at me with a smile, I turn back around a shake my head at her. “think we’re going to stay here a while longer.” I reply. She smirks and winks. Rick, Michonne, Maggie and Daryl walk past and all have huge smirks on their face. “protection” Michonne whispers. I pale and blush at the same time. Carl laughs loudly tipping his head back, I peck his throat and he immediately stops.
“do you think they’d be able to see us over here from the houses?” He asks. “uhm no, the bushes are in the way a little and its too dark, they’d only see out silhouette.” I grin. He smirks and pushes his lips to mine. I reach behind me and unclasp my bra. His hands immediately fly to my chest and he starts feeling and playing around. I moan into his mouth.
“I can’t believe my first time is going to be in the middle of a lake” I giggle. He smiles back. “we can go somewhere else, or we can stop” he mutters. I shake my head no. “this is perfect baby” I say as I push his wet hair off his forehead. He reaches down and pulls his underwear off, then mine. He flings them across the lake and I gasp. He smirks and brings me closer to him, my legs wind around his waist. He enters me and I gasp at the feeling. He buries his face in my neck.
“Carl” I moan. “I know baby, cum with me” he sighs peppering kisses on my chest. We cum together and muffle our screams in each other’s shoulders. He pulls out and we swim around for a little while longer.
Ricks POV* “did they just?” Michonne asks me. I laugh and nod. Everyone gathers around. “did they just have sex?” Maggie fumes. We all laugh at her. “yeah, they think we can’t see” I confirm. She balls her fists. “I swear if my sister gets pregnant with your sons kid I’ll kill him myself” She spits. I laugh and bring her in for a hug. “deal” I smile. Just then we see them emerge from the water looking around for their clothes. Rosita holds them up with a wicked grin and we all laugh loudly. “Hey Carl, need some help buddy?” I yell. He holds his hand up and shakes his head. “We’re ok dad” he yells back. They sit in the water for a while before they can’t stand the cold any longer. They start snapping branches off the tree and make a run for it. We all cheer them as they run into y/n’s house. They try to open the door but Daryl dangles the keys. We all laugh even harder. They are blushing bright red. I point to the door behind me and they sigh. They sprint over to our house and up the steps and through the door straight up to Carls bedroom.
normal POV* “that was so embarrassing!” I gasp. Carl laughs and chucks me one of his shirts. I pull it over my body quickly. He dresses himself and comes behind me pulling me onto his bed. I lay my head against his chest. “thank you for ‘prom’ I had a really good time” I poke his nose. “I love you” he whispers. “I love you to dork” I grin pecking his lips then lying back down. We fall asleep right there, holding each other.
*possible trigger warning for PTSD/panic attacks in this one as well as mentions of violence.*
@allpaintedincolors prompted me for “Az flipping out after Cassian’s wing injuries in ACOMAF and having generally awful flashbacks and Mor comforting him/reminding him that it’s over.”
Azriel/Mor, post ACOMAF the two of them are assisting in helping clear Velaris after the attack as well as strengthening its defences when a freak thunderstorm triggers flashbacks of Hybern in Azriel. Split POV.
Lightning flashes overhead, a shocking burst of white light
that obliterates his senses for a half a heartbeat. Someone screams piercing
and shrill a sound that trembles through his bones. Azriel stops dead. Frozen. Trapped.
As though invisible, impenetrable barriers have sprung up all around him,
preventing him from moving.
The narrow lane around him seems to contract, squeezing in
tightly like the walls of that black prison they’d stuffed him in to as a
child, getting smaller and smaller until it might crush him. His body stops. He
can’t lift his arms, can’t move his legs, can’t spread his wings the way he
wants to and fly, fly away from this, somewhere safe, somewhere open, somewhere
His lungs seem filled
with ash, every breath is rasping and ragged, there isn’t space in his chest to
get the breath that he needs. His chest is shrinking too, iron bands around it
crushing like vices until he can’t breathe.
And his heart. His heart pounds like the hammering of rain against
a window, continual, uneven, relentless. Again and again and again like the
clash of steel on steel that always used to fill the Illyrian war camps during
drills, ceaseless. On and on and on and on until it drowns out the world,
eclipses it all in thundering terror and there’s no room left in him for
His whole body begins to shake violently. He is a feather caught
in the hungry maw of a hurricane. He can’t fly, he can’t fight it, he can only
bend to its will as it drags him along with it. Bile rises in the pit of his
stomach, stinging the back of his throat and sickening him. And his power
flares, his siphons burning blue as that energy within him begins to rip free
of his control.
Closing his eyes Azriel fights it, tamping it down,
restraining himself. He forces himself to breathe deeply, inhaling the scents
around him. Velaris. Velaris. Velaris. He chants over and over again. He’s
home. In a street surrounded by people. Not Hybern. Not Hybern. Velaris. Home. Not Hybern. Over and over and over
he repeats the words, leashing himself mercilessly, making a prisoner of
himself, chaining down his emotions.
Then lightning flashes in the sky again and all the hell
that he’s been trapping within himself finally tears his scarred, burned skin
and breaks loose.
Lightning flares once more and he might have winnowed with
it. The quiet, cobbled street bathed in gentle sunlight still visible beneath
the darkening clouds overhead vanishes, ripped away and the throne room
replaces it. He’s not in Velaris any more. He’s in Hybern. And there’s blood oozing
from the wound in his chest where the arrow protrudes. Poison pulses through
his body with every beat of his heart. His vision is blurred, his breathing
ragged and pain bursts through him with every faint movement.
“I would suggest bracing yourselves,” that voice ripples
through him like roiling black thunder. Then a burst of light as the king’s
power flares. And Cassian. His brother standing before him, throwing out his
wings wide as though they were a shield and not the greatest gift the world
ever gave him.
Blood sprays in the air like mist, crimson rain falling from
the shredded dark clouds that were once Cassian’s beautiful wings. And his
brother is screaming. Screaming in agony as he crumples to the ground before
him And Azriel groans, lurching forwards, pain half blinding him as he tries to
get to him, to help him.
Power rips through him, roaring beneath his skin, as though
his blood has caught fire. But it can’t get out. It has nowhere to go. The
magic of this cursed court leashes him, prevents him from accessing it. And so
it burns him. It burns and it burns him as he longs to let it out, to save
Cassian, to stop him making that awful, unnecessary sacrifice for him.
The feeling of pain consumes him. The scent of blood fills
him with every ragged breath. His heart pounds and pounds and pounds. And he
can’t breathe. He can’t think. He can’t breathe.
He has to get out. He has to, he has to, he has to.
Mor looks up from where she was standing using her power to
help repair a shopkeeper’s front window at the flash of lightning that had
suddenly flared in the sky above them. When she sees Azriel her heart stops. The
shadowsinger has frozen in the centre of the narrow street, his outline gone
rigid, his powerful muscles trembling. And his siphons…His siphons are
glowing blue as he draws upon his power.
Without a thought she dives away from the couple she had
been assisting, shouting for the people around her to get back even as she
hurtles for him. The lightning flash, that playful shriek of a child splashing
in the river below but to him, to him it was a scream of agony, of horror. It
had taken her a moment to resist the drag back to Hybern at the reminder of
that flare of power the lightning flash had jolted in her too but Azriel…Azriel.
The heavens open above them, showering them in an unearthly
deluge but Mor barely notices the cool rain as it lashes against her skin, her
eyes are focused entirely on him. As she bounds towards him she hopes
fleetingly that the cold kiss of the sky on his skin might be enough to drag
him back to the present but as she gets closer she sees his eyes.
His hazel eyes, usually so calm and relaxed, a constant
anchor for her despite whatever else might be going on, those eyes always
remain so steady and composed. But now they look wild. They’re hollow and
unfocused, staring at something in horror that she can’t see and it’s
terrifying him, terrifying him. In
all the centuries that she’s known him she’s never seen him look that scared by
anything. Angry, yes, furious on occasion, determined, defiant, shaken perhaps
but never afraid, never like this.
The moment she’s close enough to touch him she seizes his
wrist tightly in her grip and then winnows, pulling her shattered friend away
from that quiet, residential street of Velaris as his siphons continue to burn.
She knows the kind of power that lives beneath his skin, she knows exactly what
he’s capable of unleashing, what he would
have unleashed in Hybern if he’d been able to. She has to get him away, get him
somewhere far away from those people, somewhere quiet, somewhere safe.
They land in the mountains surrounding Velaris and barely an
instant after they arrive Azriel erupts.
His wings flare violently, the hooked claw of one catching her
just beneath her eye a moment before she throws up her shields to block against
the blast of power she’d been anticipating since she saw him standing frozen
there. The mountains around her tremble with the explosion that rips through
the air around them and despite her shield, Mor finds herself knocked back away
When she rises again and finds him he’s hunched over
himself. Alone in a sea of darkness. The rain continues to pound down over them
from the heavy black skies spread out above them and they cloak him where he’s
sprawled on the flattened grasses around him. His wings trail behind him, like
the sails of a ship whose mast has shattered and left them crumpled and
useless. His arms are wrapped tightly around his stomach, his forehead is
pressed onto the ground before him and he’s shaking so violently she fears
he’ll hurt himself. The siphons that had burned so blindingly bright with all
of that power are flat and dull now. As empty as he is.
Pushing herself up she pads cautiously towards him, her
heart ripping itself into shreds at the sight of him like this. He’s always so
stoic, so in control, so cold and isolated from their court, distancing himself
to make it easier to do the things he has to that it’s easy to forget about the
battered soul that lives beneath his skin.
She sees it now. Raw and vulnerable, as exposed as he is,
lying on the frigid ground at her feet and she despises it. This isn’t the male
she knows and loves, not her friend, her battle partner. Seeing him this broken
cracks something deep within her she never even knew existed. All she wants as
she crouches down on the sodden grass at his side is to help him, to heal him,
to make him stop feeling so much guilt and grief and pain.
As she draws close enough to kneel beside him, heedless of
the mud forming around them due to the rain she takes note of his ragged,
uneven breaths. It takes her a moment to register the fact that he’s crying. The
shadows that always coil around him have deepened and darkened, becoming as
thick and black as the smoke that pours from a roaring fire, all but concealing
him from her. His face is now buried in his scarred hands, those startling
hazel eyes hidden from her but the way his chest heaves, the way his body
trembles, the way his breathing hitches says enough.
Her throat tightens with a thick coil of emotion and her own
eyes sting with tears at the sight of him, at the thought of what he must have
endured there to shatter him so completely. Taking a deep breath she swallows
it and forces herself to be like him, steady and calm and composed, realising
that he needs her to anchor him this time.
“Azriel,” she murmurs quietly, not daring to touch him until
he’s noted her presence, the contact feeling somehow too intimate, too much
like an invasion while he’s so vulnerable. “Azriel, look at me. Please look at
Slowly he raises his head and his bloodshot eyes find her.
At once the little colour that had remained in his sun kissed skin drains,
leaving him looking half a corpse before her. He reaches out to her and his
hand settles on her cheek, his thumb brushing over the small cut his wing had
made in her cheek, which has already stopped bleeding and begun to heal.
“Did I hurt you?” he rasps, his voice hoarse and jagged, not
at all the smooth ripple of midnight velvet that she’s used to.
“No,” she says at once, taking his hand in hers and moving
in closer, pressing his palm to her chest so he can feel the steady pounding of
her heart beneath her ribs and can anchor himself to it. It’s something he does
for her whenever her nightmares overwhelm her, lets her feel the pulse of his
heart in his chest and it helps, it grounds her, reminds her what’s real and
helps her drag herself out of whatever horror she had been lost in. She hopes
it helps him too.
“No, Az,” she says again, more loudly and firmly this time,
over the tattoo the rain is beating into the ground and their bodies, “I’m all
right. You’re all right.”
He looks dully down at their joined hands where they’re
pressed against her and he sees the dull, empty siphon on the back of his own
and tightens. Dragging his eyes away from her he scans the clearing, the
obvious destruction and devastation that shadows the clearing around him. His
breathing turns ragged and his eyes go wide, horror blooming in them as he
stares down at his battered, burned hands as though he can see blood on them.
“Azriel,” she says sharply, taking his hands in hers and
squeezing, holding them to her and stopping him as he starts to shake his head,
“You didn’t hurt anyone,” she growls at him, “Look at me,” she says again,
punching out each word. She cups his face in her hand and says again, “Look at
me,” softer this time. He obeys, “You didn’t hurt anyone,” she says flatly,
looking straight into his eyes, willing him to believe her.
She wonders, for a moment, if those words sound odd in his
ears, if they ring hollow. He, more than anyone, has hurt people. Tortured and
blackmailed and manipulated and killed them for the sake of his family, of his
court, of the people he’s sworn to protect.
She knows why he does
it. Why he does it alone. And why he refuses to talk to her about it when she
tries to open him up, tries to urge him to share the burden with her even a
little. It is his weight to carry. Blood that is to stain his hands and blacken
his soul and his alone. And he will drown himself in that blood, in that pain
to spare them from having to see it or know it as he does.
But the look in his eyes then, that haunted, defeated, lost
look is one she hopes never to see there again. The people he hurts he does
because he must, he does to protect, to make things better. But the thought of
what might have happened today.
“You didn’t hurt anyone, Az,” she whispers, feeling the
tears she had been trying so hard to suppress slide down her cheeks for him.
“I would have,” he whispers, his whole body shaking again,
his wings drooping even further behind him, “If you hadn’t pulled me away I,
I-“ he breaks off, his head hanging, covering his eyes with one of his scarred
hands. “I thought I was in Hybern,” he chokes out to her, every word more
cracked and broken than the last, “I was watching him hurt Cassian. His wings-
His- I-” He swallows hard as a fresh wave of tears fall to the ground around
them, mingling with the rain that still falls around them, “I just wanted to
help. I just wanted to make it stop. I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted it
He breaks down at that and Mor surges forwards without
thinking. She can’t stand his pain, can’t stand the agony that’s so obvious and
so present in him. Wrapping her arms gently around his broad chest she pulls
him close to her, cradling him in her arms as she tries to make it stop for him
now. “It’s over,” she whispers, closing her eyes and rubbing his back, “It’s
over now. You’re safe. We’re all safe. It’s over.”
She promises him. He buries his face in against her neck, breathing in her
scent, grounding himself in that, in the feel of her soft, solid, warm body
against his, “I’ve got you. I’m here,” she soothes softly, saying words he’s
said to her in the darkness of her nightly torments back to him and hoping that
they’ll help, “It’s over. It’s over. I promise. It’s over.” she says again,
holding him to her.
The rain gradually stops, leaving the world smelling fresh
and new around her and as the sky clears of the heavy, oppressive black
thunderheads that had gathered above them, Mor holds Azriel in her arms. She
stays with him in those mountains for hours, letting him break, letting him be
vulnerable and shattered and all the things he never allows himself to be.
Her body grows numb
with the cold and she finds herself remembering horrible things from that
throne room. Cassian’s scream. The spray of blood from his shredded wings. The
ash bolt that had pierced Azriel’s chest. The choking, crushing, awful feeling
of being useless. Of being able to do nothing while those she loved suffered.
Of realising that they might die. Both of them. That she might watch them both
die, these two males who had come to mean more to her than either of them would
But she weathers that storm. She closes her eyes and takes
it all for him, the way he’s done a thousand times for her; the way he would
for her again in a heartbeat, without a thought. So she weathers it for him,
lets his raging emotions batter her body and absorbs them all for him, to help
him if she can.
“It will get better,” she promises him softly , once he’s
quieted and stilled in her arms, fingers absently stroking his hair, “This war
will end. And we will survive it. A new world will be born from the ashes of
the old and there will be peace, and quiet and we will get to live in it. I
promise. I promise. It will be all
“I love you, Morrigan,” he whispers onto her neck in answer
and she squeezes him tightly in her arms.
Leaning in she kisses his forehead, her arms still wrapped
around him in a tight embrace and murmurs back, “I love you too, Az.”