dontwalkwiththedead

[dontwalkwiththedead]

PLOT HUNT

Hey all!

After a lengthy hiatus, I've found myself with loads of time on my hands and I'm dying to get some Walking Dead plots going. I'm down to play my Canons or OCs. I'm down to double (bonus points if you are) and I'm down for some drama and spice.

I have a few things I'm itching for, but the muse is high so I'm open to hearing any suggestions ya'll have! Here are a few plots and pairings I could go for:

Queer Daryl x Canon or OC. ( I can play either. )

Beth x Daryl ( I can play either. )

A/B/O Dixon-Verse (I have a specific idea for this one.) Villian Era (Essentially an AU where Rick's group are the bad guys.).

Shane Walsh x my OC Alice.

Shane Walsh x my OC Billy Greene

My OC Peter Dixon x Your OC or Canon character.

These are just a few pairings and plot musings I have, I'm very open to discussion. I also LOVE playing against OCS. My only stipulation is that they're well-fleshed out. I can tell when an OC is written for the sole purpose of being with a Canon and that's not my cup of tea.

Like this post or DM me if you're interested in writing!

#twd rp #twd roleplay #the walking dead rp #daryl dixon rp #negan rp #open starter #indie smut rp #indie oc rp #horror rp #canon rp #indie rp #discord 1x1 #gay 1x1 #1x1 roleplay #bethyl rp

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Alice made sure she gave Negan the nastiest eat shit and die stare she could manage. She had been so close to escaping. She was halfway through the back gate, before one of his asshole men pulled her back so hard she fell over and cut herself. "I guess things just don't work out the way we want." She grumbled, flinching as Doctor Carson put the final stitch in her arm.

Muse: Negan (45. Bisexual. Season 7-8 based)

Open to: M/F

"Well, well fucking well. What happened to you never wanted to see my ass again? Couldn't stay away huh? I told you Daddy's always right."

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Alice hated how unpredictable the new world was. Not that the old one was much more formulatic. It just traded modern-day unpredictability for chaotic nightmare shit. Instead of getting laid off, your boss would eat you. Instead of not making enough for rent, you had to worry about surviving blood bath fights with other survivors over the few safe places left. Minor injuries and illnesses could kill you. The water could kill you. The food could kill you. Your friend could kill you. She'd kill for her former problems. Loud neighbors? Fine by her. Kids in her class are giving her a hard time? Bring it on. Something broke in her used car again? She would rather have that piece of shit than walk everywhere. If she really let herself think about it, she could easily get depressed. Instead, she tried to stay optimistic and find a way to survive and rebuild the few good people she found. It was going great until it didn't. And now she was running through the woods with an empty gun in her hand.

Unlike most people running these days, Alice actually had a destination in mind. Her people set up a few different bunkers in the event something happened. She just had to get to the one closest to her. Then she could wait out the walkers. Seemed simple enough--until she found herself swarmed, without a useful weapon and her lungs burning. When she entered the thicker part of the forest, her plan had been to climb up into one of the trees so she could catch her breath, but thick forest floor made her lose her footing and crash into it. She barely recovered from her fall when she saw a man pointing a bow in her face. Before he finished telling her to duck, she was already back on the ground and frantically searching the forest floor for a rock or something that could be used as a weapon.

By the time her fingers wrapped around one, a walker was lunging for her. He fell on her with gnashing jaws as she swung the rock into his temple with a satisfying crunch. Two more blows, and he was on the ground, and she was back on her feet, smacking the next walker across the face with the same rock. Its dark blood splashed across her face and her forearm, but she rather reek like the dead than join 'em. "Eat dirt bitch!"

OPEN STARTER: DARYL

Despite the fact the world is falling apart, and despite the fact there's walking corpses going around eating people, he still enjoys traveling. Well, he still enjoys traveling in the woods. Cities are brimming with walkers but the woods? Not so much. The woods are quieter and calmer now that there's less organized hunting. Gone are the days of pollution and busy hunting seasons. Now nature is free to take over. Deer frolic, birds sing, and wolves prowl... Until they don't.

He knows something's wrong when the birds stop singing and when the squirrels stop their angry chattering. Shrugging his crossbow off his shoulder, he fires one, two arrows at the walkers. They fall to the ground with audible, almost echoing thumps. Despite his fresh kills, the birdsong doesn't return. Instead, leaves crunch and twigs snap. These days, the snap of sticks remind him all too much of the sound of walker teeth crunching through bone.

There's more walkers coming, and they're chasing something... Or someone. The person trips and a walker takes advantage of the fumble to get dangerously close. The person rises but the walker is just inches away from their shoulder by the time they stand again. "Duck if you wanna live!" he shouts to the person, notching an arrow and getting ready to fire.

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Daryl knew Merle was about to snap at Pete long before it happened. He spent a majority of his life studying both him and Will Dixon for clues that they were in a bad mood or gettin' into one. If he knew soon enough, he could hide. Reduced the number of ass whoopins. Peter had learned to pick up on their daddy's tells, but he was clueless around Merle. He'd always swear their brother would never hurt him like a naive idiot. If Daryl was spiteful he'd let him fall flat on his face but when you raised somebody, it was hard to see 'em get hurt.

Daryl stood up fast, practically spilling his arrows as he did. "You lay one hand on 'im I'll knock back to Tuesday." He warned, before lightly smacking Pete upside the head. "Go get the rest of 'yer hunting gear. We're goin' soon and stop being an asshole." He scolded. He also knew their baby brother's tells and Peter's lip always curled before he gave ya' attitude. Last thing he needed was to break up a fight. He was already pissed about the argument from early. Shane's only condition was that they stay on their side of the camp and away from the women and children. Easy rules. A dog could follow 'em.

Peter's features twisted with a snear as he stood up. He wanted to call Merle a dick, but he wasn't stupid enough to call him names. And if he was Daryl calling him one would've diverted his attention. He looked between both brothers. "I'll go bum one off Jim." He grunted, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he walked away.

Before he got out of reach Daryl took the gun from him. "Don't be stupid. You walk over there with a gun he'll shoot you." He warned.

Peter didn't say nothin' he just kept walking and mutterin' everything he wanted to say.

Daryl whipped back around to Merle. The day barely started and he was already breathing hard from fighting his anger. "The hell we gotta talk about?" He snapped, stealing Peter's former seat so he could finish setting up his arrows.

( closed starter w/ @merlexxdixon )

Keep Merle from getting shot by that pig Walsh and hunt enough squirrels to feed him, himself, and Peter. Not a hard couple of tasks on paper, yet two nearly impossible ones to execute. Merle hadn't shut up since they joined the commune of suburbanite bitches and Peter kept inhaling their jerky like it was his last meal. If he stopped smoking his damn weed or stealing pills from the saddle bag on Merle's bike, his appetite would even out, but he never listened. He was worse when Merle was around. He worshipped him, did everything just like him, and Daryl didn't get it. Their eldest brother was a dick, solely out for himself. While Daryl was thirteen and tossin' himself between their daddy and baby brother, Merle was off fucking around. By the time Daryl was twenty and trying to figure out how to feed eight year old Peter, Merle was getting cozy in jail. When he finally came home, he didn't so much as look at him. Just asked what beer they had. To say he fostered animosity for him over the years was an understatement. Unfortunately, he was cursed with that blind Dixon loyalty and now he was babysitting two grown ass men while trying to avoid dead ones.

That mornin' started off just fucking dandy. Merle had pissed of Dale and Shane and Daryl had to convince them not to kick them out. He told 'em he'd get squirrels for everybody if they forgave Merle. A job to big to complete in a day, by a solitary hunter, so he enlisted Peter to help him. The little shit was givin' him lip over every damn thing. He was always an asshole when Daryl woke him up before noon. Despite being just as Dixon as the rest of them, Pete also hated hunting. He wasn't bad at it, but he had irritatingly low patience. Still, Daryl rather have him bitchin' next to him all day than Merle.

He rested his crossbow next to his thigh as he counted and sharpened his arrows. Peter sat next to him, bouncing his gun on his knee as his deep-set eyes shot daggers across the camp. Occasionally, they'd drift to Daryl messing with the bow. He hated being stared at, no matter who was looking. "What?"

"Nothin', just wondering who pissed in your juice this morning." Peter grumbled as he reached out to smack Merle on the arm. "Can I have a smoke? I'm out."

Peter knew his lack of sobriety the past couple of weeks was stressing Daryl out to the max, but he couldn't help it. One minute, they were selling pills in dive bars. The next, they were getting chased out of Atlanta by ass-eaters. They barely made it out before the bombs dropped. In seconds the few dreams, two friends and couple of prized possessions Pete had disappeared in a blaze. Any sane man would smoke. In his opinion, anyways. "Merle." He repeated. "I want a smoke."

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Alice had never been more relieve to hear the blaring horn of a car. Granted the sound echoed off the mountain walls for miles as Glenn peeled back into the camp but it was better than silent fear. Especially when she saw the van following him. Abandoning her coffee, she joined Jim in ripping open the hood of the red sports car so they could rip out the horn. She turned to scold Glenn, only to realize a man she'd never before had ran by her to crush Lori and Carl in a hug. It, admittedly, took her longer than it should've to realize who the man was, but the second Shane looked at her she knew. She heard his names enough time from Carl and Lori. It was Rick Grimes.

Lori never believed in ghosts, fate, or anything supernatural but seeing Rick walk out of that van made her believe in everything she once denied. She couldn't run into his arms fast enough as her and Carl held him and cried in disbelief. He was real. The warmth of his touch. His earthy scent. The brush if his whiskers. All of it.

Crossing her arms, Alice turned away from Shane and the teary-eyed reunion as she counted everybody with 'em. Andrea, T-Dog, Glenn...they were all accounted for except one. "Where's Merle?" She asked, hoping they had a good fucking answer cause Daryl would be back from his hunt soon and she didn't wanna deal with his temper this early.

Glenn rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't scared of Alice, persay, but he also didn't wanna admit they basically left Merle to die and saved the new guy instead. They had a rule about saving as many as they could. Good or bad. Alice implemented it herself.

( closed starter w/ @rickgrimesdoingrickthings )

ALICE x RICK

One of Alice's worst fears had always been losing her family. She couldn't imagine life without the sweet scent of her daddy's cigars, her mom's colorful flowers filling the vases of their family home, or sneaking six packs of gas station beers into the barn with her three older siblings. She was one of the fortunate few who was sincerely close with her family and one of the unfortunate ones to lose everybody the first night shit hit the fan. The plan had been for everybody to meet in downtown Atlanta for dinner after she got off work at Peachtree Middle School. By the time she fought her way out, Atlanta was burning, and all she had left of her family was a voice-mail of her mom sobbing that everyone was gone before she got cut off by an explosion. The bombs.

It's only when your worst fear gets horrifically realized that you have an opportunity to discover your strength.

Alice found her strength on a highway outside of Atlanta at two am. A former police officer named Shane Walsh needed help getting a couple of families up to the quarry campsite and off the roads. She ended up ignoring her grief in favor of saving those she could. By sunrise her and said police officer were laying out a plan to survive for a bunch of scared people. Within twelve houes over a dozen men, women, and children were relying on the two of them. She was the only one other than Shane who could shoot well. And, admittedly, it was easier to lose yourself in a job you weren't asked to do than acknowledge everyone you've ever loved was gone.

Alice sipped the bitter black coffee from the tin cup as she lingered near Lori and Carl and watched the country road that led up to their camp. It'd been hours since Glenn and his group was supposed to be back with supplies from Atlanta. She was worried. She kept checking her watch. An old piece she found in Dale's junk drawer. If they weren't back in thirty minutes she was gonna take the car and go look for them. She knew it was stupid letting that many people go with.

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Yeah, Daryl probably wouldn't make it but that was his whole life story. He was always the guy that was doomed, just as much as he was always the guy who fucking survived. He used to hate Rick. He blamed him for Merle, Sophia and a plethora of the bad things that happened to 'em all. Then, somewhere in the madness, he came to the realization Grimes saved him. He gave him a second chance and a purpose in their group. A reason to fight. It was his turn to save him. He rather die tryin' than watch another one of their leaders needlessly die.

"Stay with me man!" He shouted, only to have his hoarse voice lost in the war playing out around them. Even if he heard him, it would've been pointless. Not even a full thirty seconds after he said so, Rick passed out from the severity of his injuries. In an instant every muscle and vein in Daryl's body strained with the desperation to get him out to the foods. Bullets smacked the ground near his feet, and walkers lunged from every smoky corner. At one point be had to drop him to kill a few before picking him up and continuing.

Whether it was God, perseverance, or dumb luck--Daryl somehow carried him away from the prison and out into the woods. By the time he put a mile or two between the two of 'em and their lost him, he was gasping for breath. Deciding to take a second, he dropped the former Sheriff down once more and propped his back up against a tree. He pressed his shaking fingers to the vein in his throat. The pulse was there but barely. He needed medical care.

Repositioning him so he was laying down, Daryl hurried to unbutton his shirt so he could access his wounds. He immediately noticed the bruises over his ribcage and the variety of gashes and cuts.

Sitting back, Daryl rubbed his hands over his sweaty face. Fuck. He needed to get them somewhere secure and find medical supplies.

The prison had fallen. Phillip Blake had almost killed Rick with his fists, the explosions, the walkers, it became pure chaos.

Michonne striked The Governor, but then the undead broke in, the survivors spread, no one knew who was alive or dead.

"CARL! SAVE CARL!" Rick yelled in despair to Michonne, a chain of walkers split them- he saw the woman running to the boy. The sheriff stumbled, looking for Judith- but all he found was an empty craddle, bloody.

As Beth ran to the bus and it departed, Daryl and Rick were left alone. Rick fell on his knees, one of his hands on the bloody craddle, sobbing, unable to breath properly because of the gunshot that hit his lung.

"CARL!? MICHONNE!?" the man wandered, lost, completely lost, searching for a way out. The bus had left him behind, he couldn't see Tyreese or anyone. Rick just run to the gates- tried to run. His leg also had been shot and he had no one to rely on to keep moving. Walkers were starting to close the path ahead of him, he was going to get caught.

@dontwalkwiththedead

[dontwalkwiththedead]

When Shane slid down into the waist-deep hole with Billy, he couldn't fight his smirk if his life depended on it. Up there, he saw that rock of need from across the field, but up close he could hear the way Shane's breathing quickened with excitement and he liked that. He liked that a lot. He stepped into the former officer's space. Billy was a couple of inches taller but Shane was more jacked. Shamelessly, the farm boy caught the front of his shirt to undo the last couple of buttons. "Maybe I was waiting for you--" he pushed the shirt off Shane's shoulders. "Or maybe I couldn't care less." As more of Walsh's skin was exposed, so were the little bruises Billy left over him from the previous night. His heart jumped into his throat as his own blood started coursing down. Licking his lips, he undid the button of his pants and the zipper but he didn't kick them off. He let them hang low on his waist, exposing his hipbones. "You fix it. Take 'em off me." He challenged, his normally soft voice becoming a deep rasp. He reached out to tug on the metal necklace around the other man's neck. "Or are ya scared of getting caught?" He teased.

"Easier to move around and get undress." A smirk danced across the young man's lips. His eyes glistened with mischief as he continued ramming his shovel into the broken ground. Originally, this had been a chore. A hole to start making a new water well after they spilled a walker's guts into the old one, but now it was a game of how long it'd take for Shane to crack and join him in the dirt. Billy hadn't stopped thinking about the noises he made and the way the former officer squirmed since their first night in the bathroom. His gesture started innocent. He had been helping him figure out the shower, but one accidental, adrenaline filled, brush led to another and they ended up getting clean together. Billy had done a lot of wild things, but Shane was easily the wildest.

[dontwalkwiththedead]

( closed starter w/ @merlexxdixon )

Keep Merle from getting shot by that pig Walsh and hunt enough squirrels to feed him, himself, and Peter. Not a hard couple of tasks on paper, yet two nearly impossible ones to execute. Merle hadn't shut up since they joined the commune of suburbanite bitches and Peter kept inhaling their jerky like it was his last meal. If he stopped smoking his damn weed or stealing pills from the saddle bag on Merle's bike, his appetite would even out, but he never listened. He was worse when Merle was around. He worshipped him, did everything just like him, and Daryl didn't get it. Their eldest brother was a dick, solely out for himself. While Daryl was thirteen and tossin' himself between their daddy and baby brother, Merle was off fucking around. By the time Daryl was twenty and trying to figure out how to feed eight year old Peter, Merle was getting cozy in jail. When he finally came home, he didn't so much as look at him. Just asked what beer they had. To say he fostered animosity for him over the years was an understatement. Unfortunately, he was cursed with that blind Dixon loyalty and now he was babysitting two grown ass men while trying to avoid dead ones.

That mornin' started off just fucking dandy. Merle had pissed of Dale and Shane and Daryl had to convince them not to kick them out. He told 'em he'd get squirrels for everybody if they forgave Merle. A job to big to complete in a day, by a solitary hunter, so he enlisted Peter to help him. The little shit was givin' him lip over every damn thing. He was always an asshole when Daryl woke him up before noon. Despite being just as Dixon as the rest of them, Pete also hated hunting. He wasn't bad at it, but he had irritatingly low patience. Still, Daryl rather have him bitchin' next to him all day than Merle.

He rested his crossbow next to his thigh as he counted and sharpened his arrows. Peter sat next to him, bouncing his gun on his knee as his deep-set eyes shot daggers across the camp. Occasionally, they'd drift to Daryl messing with the bow. He hated being stared at, no matter who was looking. "What?"

"Nothin', just wondering who pissed in your juice this morning." Peter grumbled as he reached out to smack Merle on the arm. "Can I have a smoke? I'm out."

Peter knew his lack of sobriety the past couple of weeks was stressing Daryl out to the max, but he couldn't help it. One minute, they were selling pills in dive bars. The next, they were getting chased out of Atlanta by ass-eaters. They barely made it out before the bombs dropped. In seconds the few dreams, two friends and couple of prized possessions Pete had disappeared in a blaze. Any sane man would smoke. In his opinion, anyways. "Merle." He repeated. "I want a smoke."

[dontwalkwiththedead]

The more Beth talked, the more aware Rick was of any curious glances or listening ears. Catching her by the elbow, he escorted away from the prison courtyard and inside one of the former offices. "Beth," he shut the door behind them with a bang. He rested his hands on his hips. "You know it's not like that. I can't...I won't complicate things...not after how hard it was to get everyone to get along." He rubbed his thumb over his forehead. "It ain't you."

open: m/f/nb

muse: Rick Grimes

connection: any

"I want you to forget this ever happened."

[dontwalkwiththedead]

"Easier to move around and get undress." A smirk danced across the young man's lips. His eyes glistened with mischief as he continued ramming his shovel into the broken ground. Originally, this had been a chore. A hole to start making a new water well after they spilled a walker's guts into the old one, but now it was a game of how long it'd take for Shane to crack and join him in the dirt. Billy hadn't stopped thinking about the noises he made and the way the former officer squirmed since their first night in the bathroom. His gesture started innocent. He had been helping him figure out the shower, but one accidental, adrenaline filled, brush led to another and they ended up getting clean together. Billy had done a lot of wild things, but Shane was easily the wildest.

open: m/f/nb

muse: Billy Greene ( comics )

connection: any

"I'm not wearing any underwear by the way. Thought you'd like to know."

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Daryl despised how unpredictable their new world was. Almost as much as he despised how comfortable they had gotten in the prison. For a second, he truly thought they had forever home behind the bars and fences and that nothing could touch 'em. He saw the potential to rebuild society, for families to grow, and friendships to flourish. Then, with the snap of the Governor's fingers, Hershel's head went rolling, their walls crumbled, and their people scattered every direction on the God damn compass.

He ran out of bullets first. Seven rounds from his small handgun wasn't much to begin with. The arrows came next. He indiscriminately shot walkers and the men storming their gates. Then, when the bushel on his back was gone, he pulled out his sharpened hunting knife to make quick work of anything stupid enough to get close. In the space of five minutes blood and dirt smeared over his exposed skin and his clothes got torn up. Still, he saved as many as he could. Especially the kids. He lifted dozens of them up into the bus until it was full to the max.

As it peeled away, he started dodging walkers left and right as he collected his arrows. Only to drop them when he saw Rick hugging Lil' Asskicker's blood stained baby seat. If he had time to vomit he would've but Grimes was already tearing at the seams so he opted to be the strong one.

"Come on, man! We gotta go!" He shouted. The smoke choking his lungs made his throat sting as he grabbed Rick by the waist and dragged him to his feet. He was in bad shape. Barely conscious. Daryl was his only hope, and he wouldn't let him die. Instead, he bent his knees and hoisted the former Sheriff's body over his shoulders so he could carry him across the battlefield and towards the woods. Adrenaline was the only reason he had the strength to do so.

The prison had fallen. Phillip Blake had almost killed Rick with his fists, the explosions, the walkers, it became pure chaos.

Michonne striked The Governor, but then the undead broke in, the survivors spread, no one knew who was alive or dead.

"CARL! SAVE CARL!" Rick yelled in despair to Michonne, a chain of walkers split them- he saw the woman running to the boy. The sheriff stumbled, looking for Judith- but all he found was an empty craddle, bloody.

As Beth ran to the bus and it departed, Daryl and Rick were left alone. Rick fell on his knees, one of his hands on the bloody craddle, sobbing, unable to breath properly because of the gunshot that hit his lung.

"CARL!? MICHONNE!?" the man wandered, lost, completely lost, searching for a way out. The bus had left him behind, he couldn't see Tyreese or anyone. Rick just run to the gates- tried to run. His leg also had been shot and he had no one to rely on to keep moving. Walkers were starting to close the path ahead of him, he was going to get caught.

@dontwalkwiththedead

[dontwalkwiththedead]

( closed starter w/ @rickgrimesdoingrickthings )

ALICE x RICK

One of Alice's worst fears had always been losing her family. She couldn't imagine life without the sweet scent of her daddy's cigars, her mom's colorful flowers filling the vases of their family home, or sneaking six packs of gas station beers into the barn with her three older siblings. She was one of the fortunate few who was sincerely close with her family and one of the unfortunate ones to lose everybody the first night shit hit the fan. The plan had been for everybody to meet in downtown Atlanta for dinner after she got off work at Peachtree Middle School. By the time she fought her way out, Atlanta was burning, and all she had left of her family was a voice-mail of her mom sobbing that everyone was gone before she got cut off by an explosion. The bombs.

It's only when your worst fear gets horrifically realized that you have an opportunity to discover your strength.

Alice found her strength on a highway outside of Atlanta at two am. A former police officer named Shane Walsh needed help getting a couple of families up to the quarry campsite and off the roads. She ended up ignoring her grief in favor of saving those she could. By sunrise her and said police officer were laying out a plan to survive for a bunch of scared people. Within twelve houes over a dozen men, women, and children were relying on the two of them. She was the only one other than Shane who could shoot well. And, admittedly, it was easier to lose yourself in a job you weren't asked to do than acknowledge everyone you've ever loved was gone.

Alice sipped the bitter black coffee from the tin cup as she lingered near Lori and Carl and watched the country road that led up to their camp. It'd been hours since Glenn and his group was supposed to be back with supplies from Atlanta. She was worried. She kept checking her watch. An old piece she found in Dale's junk drawer. If they weren't back in thirty minutes she was gonna take the car and go look for them. She knew it was stupid letting that many people go with.

[dontwalkwiththedead]

   jealous / possessive  meme

“ you’re mine. you hear me? ”

“ were you with him/her? ” 

“ why is she/he calling you? ”

“ do they know we’re together? ”

“ were you with him/her? ”

“ i don’t want you seeing them anymore ”

“ did she/he make a pass at you? ”

“ i know you were with her/him ”

“ you belong to me ”

“ i can’t believe you were with her/him ”

“ i don’t like the way he’s/she’s looking at you ”

“im NOT jealous ”

“ i thought you only had eyes for me ”

“ he/she can’t make you feel the way i make you feel ”

“ you’re too good for her/him  ”

“is there someone else?”

“ you were flirting with them ”

“ they were flirting with you ”

“ i don’t want you talking to them again ”

“ i can’t stop picturing you with him/her ”

“ the thought of you with him/her makes me sick ”

“ tell me i have nothing to worry about ”

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Rick rubbed his thumb between his eyebrows. "I don't know Beth. It's not like you haven't dealt with change before. You have to find a way to forget about it. Go help in the gardens. Help with the kids. Read. Whatever you have to do."

open: m/f/nb

muse: Rick Grimes

connection: any

"I want you to forget this ever happened."

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Rick released a noise between a snort of laughter and a scoff. "What does that mean?"

open: m/f/nb

muse: Rick Grimes

connection: any

"I want you to forget this ever happened."

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Hi! I didn't see a mutuals only on your rules, so I didn't want to attempt to write with you if you were! Feel free to ignore/block if I'm bothering you 😁

Hello! I don't have a mutuals only rule, please feel free to respond to any of my open starters. 😄 I love Andrea and the face claim you chose for her so I'm super intrigued to see how you write her!

[dontwalkwiththedead]

open: m/f/nb

muse: Beth Greene

connection: any

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself."

#twd rp #twd roleplay #negan rp #the walking dead rp #daryl dixon rp #rick grimes rp #literate roleplay #horror rp #open starter #indie smut rp #bethyl rp #beth greene rp