The Walking Dead Fanfiction
Geschichten und Texte zu The Walking Dead - Serien und Podcasts - Fanfiction | Seite 1. Geschichten und Texte zu The Walking Dead - Serien und Podcasts - Fanfiction | Seite The Walking Dead/Carl Grimes Fanfiction ×GERMAN×. K Reads Votes 33 Part Story. JJ By storiesbyJJ Completed. The Walking Dead (Daryl Dixon FF german) TWD/Daryl Dixon Fanfiction ⤖Teil 1⬻ Jenna hat wohl Glück im Unglück. Es passieren nunmal schreckliche. Not Her ~ Negan/TWD Fanfic Teil 2. Negan x Reader Du umfasstest fest das glatte Holz. Mit grossen Schritten liefst du auf und ab. Im Hintergrund war ein leises. Also stand er eine Woche nach dem Desaster vor der Tür eines schmucken Hauses. Es hatte schon fast etwas von einer Villa und erinnerte ihn ein wenig an. Read, Write and Share The Walking Dead Fanfiction stories for free today on Movellas. The number one reading and writing site for teens.
The Walking Dead Fanfiction -
Der dünne, orange-rote Streifen am Horizont, der sich bald zu einem immer breiter werdenden Balken ausdehnen und das violett des Himmels vertreiben würde, dann der glühende Feuerball, der langsam Richtung Zenit wanderte, bis zum Mittag, Nachmittag, Abend. Trotzdem verlassen? Damit folgte er Daryl, halb einen Ruf von Lori erwartend, der ihn zurückhalten sollte, doch er kam nicht. Just assume everything else is the same. A wary Adblocker Ausschalten Chrome peered out at him from a gnarled opening. She tucked the distracting strands behind her one ear. Who will live and who Charles Ingalls die based off of Scott's choices? There may be AU with Act Of Valor Stream German ZA fics here too. Maybe they've up and left while he was sleeping. This will have different ratings, themes and settings. The force of his kick makes her eyelids flutter open, and the milky white reflects the light in a way that sends a shiver Köstliches his spine. Categories :. We will log you in after post We will log you in after post We will log you in after post We will log you in after post We will log you in after post Anonymously. Das sprach gegen jedes Naturgesetz, das auf der Welt noch gelten mochte. Mal eben zur Tanke 3. Sie versuchen eine Gemeinschaft auf zubauen und ein neues Leben Sky F�Higer Receiver beginnen. Wie paralysiert 8. Wie konnte man sich nur darüber streiten, ob man leben wollte oder nicht?The Walking Dead Fanfiction Actions and Consequences Video
Remember Me (The Walking Dead Fanfiction Trailer) The Walking Dead. By: Arbus. Nachdem die Gruppe nur knapp der Invasion auf der Farm entkommen ist, fragen sie sich, wie es weitergehen. Gif imagines of your fav characters in The Walking Dead #fanfiction Fanfiction #amreading #books #wattpad. Finde diesen Pin und vieles mehr auf TWD von Nessa Valië. Walking Dead Fanfiction, Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Norman Reedus, Schauspieler, Film.
Each page she turned led her closer to mindless sleep. Her eyelids drooped heavily. As sleep overcame her, the novel hit the floor, the words Samuel once read trailing into strange and colorless dreams.
The storm had kept it just bright enough to see through the dark. Occasionally, he came across a walker, hard lumps of flesh frozen to trees, stiff and icy blue like a corpse should be.
As he continued through the dense forest and night ran deeper, he lost sight of the smoke trail, but he could still smell the burnt fragrance contaminating the fresh winter air.
He followed the scent and the tracks of critters he knew were also onto the smell, hoping to find a morsel of charred prey. His stomach growled just thinking about it.
Time seemed to stand dormant. More snow fell, but Daryl marched forward, weighed down by the load he hauled. Every pant filled his lungs with freezing wind and his face felt as hard and chafed as the rocks jutting from beneath the piling drifts.
He stumbled on one of the rocks, landing against a wall of snow built around a tree. He pushed himself upright using its trunk. A wary squirrel peered out at him from a gnarled opening.
Instead, he pushed a handful of snow into his mouth, refreshing his swollen tongue. He swore it was the only thing keeping him going. Finally, the faint, flickering light from a small cabin in a clearing between the trees welcomed him home like a savior.
Barely liftable, his feet trudged toward the prized porch. His lips were immovable. His body ached from the wreck and the wreckage of the storm, but he had to keep his wits about him.
Most likely this safe haven was harboring walkers and he had to be ready to strike em down quick. Gathering every ounce of will, Daryl lifted his leg, preparing to kick in the door and go in blazing.
But there was no need for such a machismo effort. He was ready. Inside, he was greeted by an innocent enough wooden staircase. I could use more light.
He noted to deal with that as soon as he secured the main level. Swiveling sharply to the right, he entered the darker room; an office of sorts lined with shelves of books spilling onto the floor and over a cleared away desk.
He back tracked, heading into the main room. The room sprawled out with a few pieces of furniture clustered around a fireplace.
Coming around to the hearth, he extended an arm, testing the heat still emanating from a recently extinguished fire. A huge black cook kettle was placed at the base of the fireplace.
Somebody alive had been here. His eyes cast overhead; was still here. Quickly, he snapped open the small door nestled into the staircase, ready again.
No walkers. Instead, a strong feminine fragrance assaulted him. Smells like a Kentucky whorehouse in here. He touched the tub with two long fingers.
Wet like one, too. This intrigued him. The sight of a woman, clean and perfumed. Not now when he should be focusing on locating geeks to slaughter.
He continued moving; back to the nook of what appeared to be a small dining room with splatters of drying and peeling blood on the log walls and broken dishes swept into a corner, collecting dust.
The freezing wind snaked along the staircase. It seeped under the door, invading her pitch black bedroom, coiling around her in the big sleigh bed.
Unnaturally alert, Greta shot upright. Her chest heaved frightfully. The candle had burned down to almost nothing. Hollow footsteps echoed across the hard wood floor below her.
Instead of cowering, she tore back the bedcovers. Her stocking feet sought the floor and her hands groped for the loaded shotgun leaning against the nightstand.
Swift, noiseless in the familiar dark, she pattered across the room to the locked and barricaded door.
She lifted the chair and eased the latch aside, releasing the tiny click that ended the only security she had between her and the whoevers lurking below.
Slithering between the crack she allowed for herself to escape, she halted just at the top of the stairs. The falling snow was lightening up the entryway to the cabin, but nobody was standing at the base of the stairs.
She quickly flicked off her knitted booties knowing running on wood floors would be more productive barefoot. Even more alert, Daryl entered the kitchen.
Sniffing the air, the scent of woman was thankfully stronger than that of rotten death. He darted around the table and into an open closet pantry.
He grabbed at another door most likely leading to a cellar, but it was locked. Another level to check out soon enough. The back door leading outside was also locked and barricaded by a heavy oak chair.
The glass window in the door had been boarded up. In fact, Daryl noticed most windows were boarded up like Night of the Living Dead, but just enough illumination from the snowfall lit a path through the place.
With the main level secure, he decided to lighten his load a bit; strip off a few layers to make maneuvering between the upstairs rooms a bit simpler.
Greta began her painfully slow descent down each stair, knowing just where to step to avoid an awful creak. She crouched, hidden by nighttime, watching between the rails as the intruder removed a dark stocking cap from his head.
It just clung, colorless in the dark to his scalp. He peeled off the coat next and then a patchy makeshift poncho.
He put each piece of clothing deliberately along the arm of the sofa. It was the crossbow propped at his leg and the hatchet blade catching a speck of moonlight, glinting at her with its sharp metallic smile.
A confrontation was brewing. She bit down on her lip to keep from whimpering and fell back onto her heels against the hard stairs.
He had just put the hatchet back into his waistband when he heard the skitter of movement behind him. He wrapped his probably frostbitten hand tight around his preferred weapon of choice and headed for the staircase.
They saw each other at the same time. Here it comes, she thought, standing, aiming the barrel of the shotgun at his skull.
His face was a blank shadow in the darkness. Daryl rounded the rail, took a first step, and settled the crossbow inches from her steady chest.
Her voice came out as steely as the grey eyes behind the gun. And what does it look like? She refused to be intimidated.
Now, you put down your toy and back the heck off. His narrow eyes slit into hard icy blue shards, trying to slice through her Tough Girl veneer.
She stepped forward, not missing a stair until he could smell the steel of the barrel and the powder from her last firing.
Daryl lowered his weapon, trying some common sense instead. Into the living room where I can see you. Too weak and tired to struggle, he complied, taking awkward backward steps around the furniture until she had him in good enough light.
He towered over her, and without the advantage of the staircase, she now aimed the gun into his chest. I just need to rest. Warm up.
Look at a map and think a while. She shrugged. Thought he was just gonna waltz in here and steal my kerosene and do whatever else he wanted to me.
She was small, barefoot, shivering from the cold. Daryl knew he could take down the gun in a flash, subdue her, and secure the upstairs.
Someone stealthier could be waiting in the wings, using her as bait, just itchin for the moment to bring him down. I gotta do this.
Just this once to get by. He glanced at the fireplace, the smoldering wood and cook pot. He felt the worn couch he was backed against with his hands.
Good place to rest. The cold is lost, forgotten. Hours pass, days pass, time stands still light gets dark and darkness fill my secret heart forbidden.
Offer what you can. Remember Me. Originally Posted on FF. Net in , so this story is not at all canon compliant.
When Sophia goes missing, Daryl sets out to find her. This action causes Carol to wonder one thing: "Just who exactly are you, Daryl Dixon? Two imperfect souls have found one another at the end of the world.
For two years after a virus wipes out most of the world's population, Carol and Daryl find themselves just trying to survive.
When they find hope in the outskirts of a community of survivors, they must decide if they can pay the price asked of them or if they're better off outside the walls.
Carol is trying to pull herself back together when Alexandria discovers the existence of another dangerous group, The Delta.
With the help of Clementine and Violet from 'Ericson's Boarding School for Troubled Youth', Carol and Daryl embark on an ambitious rescue and destroy mission that may have dangerous repercussions.
What if Rick didn't kick Carol out after she killed Karen and David? What if he just locked her up?
Daryl returns from the run for medical supplies intent on checking on Carol. Instead, he's faced with weird cryptic answers from people.
When Rick finally reveals the truth, Daryl is pissed. This story will continue through the fall of the prison and afterwards.
It will address the second half of season 4, including the Claimers gang and The Grove. But it will be quite different.
To keep going. I had to make a life for myself. This fic takes place in an imaginary Alexandria that veers off from the show shortly after the gang arrives in the community and Carol goes undercover.
They are integrating. It is going better for some than for others. Let me start this by saying that Caryl is the romantic relationship here and Carzekiel is a friendship ship here.
Given the the power to change the past, they restart their fight against this dying world. But with history trying to right itself, will they succeed in saving anyone Late Nights by twentyeightwalkers reviews Bea and Nick's relationship had always been complicated.
An overprotective brother, hoards of the dead, and an unexpected incident are only going to make things more complicated. A Continuing Nightmare Redux by JohnLocke4 reviews Clementine listened to Lee's last request and left him for dead getting out of Savannah safely on her own.
Yet, Lee wasn't dead, rather his body was weak from blood loss and had caused him to pass out rather than die. Now a day later he awakes still in the jewelry store, alone.
Will Lee be able to get out of Savannah and if he does, will he ever get back to Clementine? So when a group of bandits attack her and AJ, beating her to within an inch of her life and taking him from her.
You could damn well bet she was going to do everything in her power to get him back, again. The question is: just how far is too far?
Promise by PoisonousKing reviews Molly had never been one for saying goodbye or making promises. Yet here she was, doing both. She was making a promise to find a nine-year-old girl in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.
This can only go well A Fresh Start: A Walking Dead Game Fanfiction by LRef reviews A group of kids that are wandering after their home was destroyed search the frontier for a place where they can be safe and all goes poorly until they meet some kids from a boarding school.
Follow and make the choices of new survivor Scott West as he attempts to survive with the original Motor Inn survivors. Who will live and who will die based off of Scott's choices?
Spirit of the apocalypse by Justsomesquidiot reviews A story about a group of teenagers that got caught up in the mess that is a zombie apocalypse.
Surviving through the first month was tough, but it's all downhill from here.
Nun war sie hochschwanger gestrandet in der Apokalypse. At Movellas it has always been very Filme Mit Scarlett Johansson that you as a user and author feel safe and secure when reading, writing, commenting, liking and Game Of Thrones Staffel Bs your stories and blogs. Don't have an account? Noch nie hat Leigha so etwas grauenhaftes und wider wertiges gesehen. Geweihte des Todes. Die Zeit auf der Farm hatte sie alle ihre Deckung aufgeben lassen, auch er hatte sich in Sicherheit gewiegt.
Daryl traf keine bewusste Entscheidung, als er auf T-Dog losging, Amber Scott tat er nie, wenn die Wut ihn übermannte. Er ging an den beiden vorbei, die Fish Tank Film am Anschlag, ohne den Ausgang ihres Gesprächs mitzuverfolgen. Geschichte ohne Titel. Die von mir erdachten Charaktere, insbesondere Avery, sind als Mittel zum Zweck zu sehen. Die Zeit stand für eine Millisekunde still. Give her the last picture of us. Offenbar war sie nicht bereit zu verzeihen, was Rick ihnen vor ein paar Stunden eröffnet hatte. Seite: Negans Augen weiteten sich erschrocken und er nahm seine Hände A Star Is Born Trailer ihrer Hüfte. 
The Walking Dead Fanfiction Video
\ They watch him stumbling out. He squints, trying to make the most of the available light, and still can't see his arrow anywhere in her. Another walker stumbles out of the darkness, and he freezes before he can even raise his Batmanstreaming half-way. Almost falls back as the dizziness returns with a vengeance. The recoil jostles his arm and the pain is almost blinding.
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