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[fanficksntwinkies-blog]

Kennedy and Negan Pt. 2

“What the fuck are you drawing now?” Dad asked me, leaning over to the left side of his desk to look at my sketchbook as another knock sounded gently at his door. I looked down at the album, using the photo for reference as what I was drawing.

“Why the fuck are you drawing Elvis? I thought that shit was too old for you.” I set the book down.

“What the fuck ever, Elvis is good as fuck.” The person knocked again. My dad tried to get rid of his smirk, but he failed to do so as he told the person to come in. 

It was a Savior.

“Negan, we’ve got a thief,” he panted.

“The fuck did he steal?” “Rations.”

I cracked up, elbowing Dad’s leather clad arm with my elbow. 

“This motherfucker.... Thinks he needs more food!” I wheezed. “I mean, what, is he trying to gain weight for the Biggest Loser?” That remark made my dad chuckle. 

“The fuck, Kennedy...” He said as he laughed, putting his hand on his bowline. After a moment of shared laughs, he grabbed Lucille. Suddenly, a really fucked up idea popped into my brain.

“Wait. Have you guys cut up Davey yet? I mean, I only killed him earlier today.” The Savior scratched his neck.

“Not yet, no.”

“I need one of his hands.” Dad gave me a questioning look, but I just smiled back. He shrugged and walked out with me fast behind him. I decided to grab my record player and bat as well, just to see how fun I could get with it. 

The guy was scrawny. We looked at him through the window on the door as we waited for the hand to show up.

“Well he looks starving,” Dad remarked. 

“Well, let’s go see if he’s hungry,” I said as a Savior handed me something wrapped in a cloth. 

I walked in, setting my record player down on the small table that was in the room, sitting down in front of him.

“You look tense as fuck,” I said jokingly. “Mind if I put on some music?” The guy stayed silent as I opened the small player and set a vinyl on it, turning it on and setting the needle on it. Soon, a sweet voice began to ring through the room.

“Put your head on my shoulder,” I sang along with the song as I set the wrapped hand on the table, along with a knife. I could feel Dad’s eyes on my back.

“Sooo, Slick, why the fuck are you so damn hungry that you’re stealing other peoples’ food?” I leaned on the table with my elbows.

“I... I dunno.” 

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “I can’t even try being fucking nice to you? All you’ve fucking done is cower and lie since I walked in.” I heard Dad lean against the door frame. 

“I’m not lying!” I swiftly grabbed the knife and pointed it at him.

“The fuck you are! Listen up,” I growled as I leaned in. “You are fucking yourself up a little more every time you spew some bullshit. Why are you stealing?”

He looked down, not intending on answering me. I smirked.

“You know what?” I pushed the hand toward him and unwrapped it, and set the knife down next to it as I continued. “If you’re so fucking hungry, you’ll eat this hand.” He scooted back.

“No. Fuck you.” I heard Lucille swing out, pointing towards him. 

“You’d better watch the way you talk to my little girl, asshole. You’d be dead by now if it were me.” Irritated, I leaned forward as Dad spoke.

“You have until the end of this marvelous song to eat one finger. One finger and you’re good to go.” He shook his head. Suddenly, I knew where all of those rations were. 

“Please don’t do this,” He whined.

“Oh, why, you don’t want to have to tell the family that you’re hiding in the woods that you’re a cannibal?” 

His eyes widened. I sat back, smirking.

“I see. You mind telling me where the fuck they are?” He shook his head.

“I will fucking die before I tell you anything, you little bitch. You think I’m fucking afraid of you assholes? Fuck no! Especially not you, you little fucker. You know what? I’m not afraid of shit. Fuck you.” I smiled. 

“Well, glad you’re not scared to be honest, my friend.” I stood and walked over behind him. My father watched, amused. “Unfortunately, you are...” I leaned in close to his ear.

“A huge dick.” He scoffed once before I slammed his head on the table. 

“You little bitch!” He shrieked as blood poured from his nose. “You fucking... I’m not letting... Fuck!” I held his hand on the table and threatened the thought of taking his fingers off with my knife.

“You want me to start removing fingers, asshole? Tell me where the fuck they are!” He shook his head.

“No?” I snickered, following up with an “alright then, let’s start with this one.”

I drug the knife roughly across his finger, causing it to bleed.

“How about now?” The savior started breathing heavily and whining, not replying. I pressed the blade of the knife to his middle finger. “Last chance, asshole,” I added as I pressed harder. 

“Please, don’t,” he pleaded. 

“That’s not a fucking answer,” I growled, dragging the knife against that finger as well. It began bleeding immediately. I knew that I wouldn’t gain answers from him unless I escalated it. I positioned the large knife to where the tip was digging into his now open wound. 

He screamed through his teeth as I put pressure on the wound.

“Fuck! FUCK! Don’t, please! I’ll fucking tell you fucking everything!” I lifted the knife from his finger and took a seat across from him. 

“Spill the beans,” I ordered. He looked nervously up at Dad, who had remained pretty silent throughout the whole thing. I snapped at his face. “Hey, asshole! I’m over here.” He looked back at me, ignoring his fingers completely. His head hung low and his eyes drifted even lower.

“I was sent by Rick. I’ve been bringing them food so that they can prepare for the war.” I felt a hand rest on my shoulder.

“Baby girl,” Dad said. “I need to take over.” I looked up at him. His look was serious and his eyes squinted at the Savior. I picked up my record player and walked out, as I’d been told.

--

“Carl, I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 

“We have to play it cool, Kennedy. My dad’s already suspicious that there’s something up because I’ve been shying away from him to talk to you.” I looked across my room.

“Yeah, I know.”

There was a short pause.

“Why don’t you meet me tonight, just so we can hang. I’ll bring some food, you can bring whatever else you wanna do. I just... Five minutes isn’t enough with you. And talking over radio isn’t enough either.” I looked down.

“I know, Carl. But I can’t. My dad has those dumb motherfuckers posted all over the place.”

I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, along with heavy breathing. 

“I have to go,” I said, turning my radio off. I walked into the hallway, only to see Dad walking angrily toward his room. 

“Are you alright?” I timidly said. I knew he was pissed, and I wasn’t about to fuck with that. He stopped. Lucille was dripping with blood, and a bit was slung onto the wall as he turned around fluidly. His face had blood splats all over it, his hair was a mess, and his shirt was no longer white. He sauntered over to me and pulled me into a hug, kissing my forehead. The embrace didn’t feel safe in any way. For the first time, I’d felt genuinely scared by him.

“I’m just fuckin’ peachy, sweetheart,” he said calmly, shaking my arm with his hand. His demeanor was... Serial killer-ish. Usually, he joked and cursed in a fun way, but he... He seemed like he was about to fucking strangle me. 

Dad turned and walked into his room, slamming the door. I silently put my ear to the door. He was clearly upset. He was huffing, puffing and slamming shit around.

I knocked.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me, Dad,” I shakily said. After a few seconds, the door opened. 

“Listen, doll, I don’t have time for this shit right now. Go bug Simon.” I stood up straight and arched my eyebrow stubbornly.

“No. I’m not leaving until you tell me what the fuck your problem is,” I said. His expression softened a bit as he invited me in, sitting me on the couch.

“I don’t know why you fucking care. I don’t even know if you’d understand.”

“Don’t give a fuck, Dad. I’ll listen no matter what.”

[fanficksntwinkies-blog]

Kennedy and Negan

 Note: This isn’t a ship between Negan and my character. Just sayin’. 

“Kennedy. Wake up.” Dad gently shook me awake with one hand. I knew that his other was holding Lucille. 

“The fuck do you want?” I grumpily said, rolling over. 

“I’m here to fucking tell you that I’m going on a trip. Had your lazy ass been up earlier, you could’ve gone with me. You’re in charge for the day. Radio me or some shit if you feel moody and need me to fuck someone’s shit up.” I heard his heavy footsteps leave the room and close the door quietly. Damn, a Saturday with the entire Sanctuary under my thumb. I could deal with that. I felt a bit angsty anyways, and yelling at Simon or even getting into a screaming match with him would’ve been perfect. 

 “Kennedy, you up?” Carl radioed. I grabbed the radio from my nightstand. 

“Yeah. My dad just fucking woke me up. I’m in charge for the day.”

“Shit. That probably means that he’s on his way over here,” he said in an irritated tone. “I’m coming over.”

I ran my fingers through my hair and replied with a “fuck, are you crazy? My dad will flip the fuck out if he finds out that you’re here. He loves me, but unfortunately for everyone else, he loves only me. I’m telling you, Carl. He will fuck your shit up if you come here.” There was a long pause on the radio.

“Fine.” I signed off and decided to get up. I brushed my teeth and hair before putting on a little bit of makeup and pulling my hair back. 

For clothes, I decided to put on a really torn up Fall Out Boy t-shirt and some tight jeans. I threw on a leather jacket just so I could feel bad-ass like my dad, and worn out Converses squeezed my feet. I grabbed the baseball bat that he’d gifted to me earlier and decided that it needed a little bit of a fucking glow up. 

The bat was plain, with a really ugly honey stain and literally no character. How fucking lame. I decided to walk it down to the market, where Johnny was. He owned a small stand where he would re-finish shit and sell it. He also sold any instruments that were found, along with the needed accessories. 

“Johnny, I need a favor. This is your chance to earn an extra ration, so listen the fuck up. I--” 

“You should watch your mouth, young lady,” some old woman shouted. I looked over at her and raised my eyebrows, irritated. I threw her the bird and then continued. 

“Sand this bad boy down and refinish it. I want it to look kinda burnt, so choose, like, a black wash or something. Then, I want you to spike it up for me. Drive some nails through it, wrap it in a little barbed wire, just make it usable.” With that, I walked over to the old woman, pulling up a chair next to her. 

“I just wanted to say-- fuck you. You’re welcome to take this to Negan if you’d like, but I think he’ll side with me. You wanna know why?” She stayed silent. I leaned in and almost whispered in her ear. 

“Because he’s my dad,” I snickered as I stood up. “You should mind your damn business next time.” 

-

Everyone around me screamed and cried as he smacked Danny in the head with his bat. I didn’t feel bad, though. Every single person in this group hated me. When you’re trying to help someone survive, you don’t deny them food and smack them around. Seriously, fuck these people. 

I decided that I was fed up with this bullshit and wanted to rub it in more. At this point, death would be better than being with these assholes. I stood and motioned for the gruff looking man behind me to stop as I giggled.

“What an asshole!” I said, laughing. The man who was beating Danny a new facial structure stopped and looked at me, confused but sort of amused. I decided to continue as I stepped toward him. “What the fuck is your name?” I heard a gun cock behind me. 

“You’d better sit the fuck down, sweetheart. I’m trying to prove a point, here.” 

“Nah, I’m good. Y’know, the utter smell of stupidity emitting from behind me is really pissing me off. You should call that asshole off.” He just smirked as the guy behind me tried to grab me. Instead of gaining control of me, I grabbed his arm and used my entire body weight to pull him down, taking his gun and standing back up. I looked at the man as I pulled the trigger. 

“You,” he said, pointing his bat at me, “Are a total bad-ass! Why don’t you... Join me, inside here. We need to chit-chat.” He pulled me into the RV and sat me down before taking a seat across from me himself. 

“You mind fucking explaining that shit to me?” I interlocked my fingers.

“I wanted your fucking attention. What did it look like, asshole?” I snapped. He raised his eyebrows, amused. 

“Calm the fuck down. Why are you so fucking bitter? I mean, like, holy shit.” I hesitated to tell him what’d happened to me. It was a group of all men, and they thought that I was just their therapy target. Theirs to smack around and demean. I only stayed because they protected me, but then again they only protected me so that they’d have someone small and vulnerable to beat down. 

I repeated my story to him, which made him scratch the thick scruff on his face. 

“That’s uh... That’s fucked up. You know what? Fuck those fuckity-fuckers. You know what I’m gonna do for you, kid? I’m gonna go out there and fuck all of them up, and then you can come home with me. You’re my new daughter,-- wait. The fuck is your name?”

“Kennedy,” I quietly replied. Who the fuck was this guy? Why did he care? Why would he want to help some random, moody thirteen year old? 

For the next hour, painful screams filled the air. Each and every one made the sickening smile on my face grow wider. 

I was his princess, and only his princess. 

-

I was snapped out of my random ass trance by screams filling the hallway. I sat, my feet propped upon Dad’s desk, a sketchbook in hand. I was drawing Elvis, a little present for him when he returned. He really valued those things. 

“Kennedy!” Davey screamed. I rolled my eyes, storming over to the door and waiting for his heavy footsteps to walk by the door to Dad’s room. 

“What the fuck do you want, asshole? I’m fucking busy,” I screamed in his ear as he walked right by me. Startled, he turned to me. 

“Jesus! I’ve been looking all over for you!” I rolled my eyes, pulling him into the room and walking over to the desk. I knew he was going to have some long sob story and I was going to need to sit down.

“Well, maybe you would look harder if you weren’t so fucking stupid,” I shouted, grabbing my radio and secretly holding down the speak button.

“Don’t you fucking get mouthy with me, girl,” He snapped, leaning over the table and grabbing my neck roughly. “Your daddy isn’t here to protect you from me. That means that I can do whatever the fuck I want to you.” He pulled me up and caressed my cheek with his other hand.

“And oh man are you gorgeous. You’re about to learn what happens when you mouth off to me,” he threatened. I let go of the speak button and quietly set the radio down. 

“Let me the fuck go, David, or I swear to god, when I get my bat finished, you’re the first one who’s blood is going to be on it.” He set me down and patted my head, leaning onto the desk.

“You’re not getting out of this. And if you tell your dad, I’ll let him know about that boy that you’ve been seeing.” Shit. Carl. A loud crackle from the radio interrupted the conversation. 

“Davey, my man,” my dad said through the radio. I could hear it in his voice-- he was furious. “You got your hands on my princess?” I smirked and raised an eyebrow as he lifted up the radio. He mouthed the words “you little shit” as he pressed the button.

“N-no, sir. What makes you think that?”

“I just fucking heard you screaming at her. Do I need to cut the day short?” he rose his voice a little bit. 

“No, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Give the fucking radio to Kennedy and get the fuck out,” he ordered. Once Davey was gone, I spoke.

“Sorry, Dad.”

“I’m coming back. We’ll talk when I fucking get there.”

“Dad, it’s fine.” 

“No, it’s fucking not, fucking Kennedy. I’m fucking pissed now. Shit. I haven’t even fucking seen Carl the whole fucking time I’ve been here. I wonder where the fuck that little motherfucker is.” My heart dropped. 

“Um, I don’t fucking know, Dad. I’ll see you when you get home, I’m gonna go fucking keep an eye on Davey.” I turned the radio off and ran down the hallway. By this time, Johhny’d finished my bat and left it next to the door. I picked it up roughly as I jogged, finding Davey in the lounge with the wives. 

“I swear to fuck. Get the hell out of here!” I said, raising the bat. He made a run for it. Good. Dad was going to fuck him up when he got back. 

I met Carl out back of the building. Upon seeing him, I immediately set my bat down and ran into his arms. After the hug ended, I looked up at him. 

“What the hell are you doing here? My dad’s on his way back. He’ll kill you.” He smiled and kissed my forehead.

“I could care less,” he laughed. Seeing how upset I was, he stepped back, examining me.

“What happened to you? You look shaken up.” I looked around.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” 

“Yes, it is.” He knew that I was lying, but he figured that it was best not to push it. He hugged me again. Looking up a bit, I spoke softly.

“How did you get here?”

“Don’t worry about it. As long as we’re together, right?” My radio went off.

“Kennedy. The fuck are you?” It was Dad. I looked back up at Carl.

“I have to go. Get the fuck out of here in one piece, will you?” He nodded and hugged me one last time before we both ran off in different directions. 

Dad was in one of those creepy rooms, holding Lucille. Davey was sat in a chair. As I walked up, Dad put his hand around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. 

“I understand that this motherfucker right here was giving you some fucking trouble. Is that right, princess?” I looked up at Davey. He had a worried look that pleaded for me to forgive him. I smirked a bit, threw the finger at him and walked out of Dad’s grip. 

“That’s fucking right. He was all rude and shit to me.” I dragged my bat behind me and leaned in close to his face. 

“Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you.” I whispered into his ear with a condescending voice.

“I wish you would,” he rudely remarked. That set me off.

“Really? Well that fucking sucks.” I brought my bat up and hit him square in the balls with it. He screamed as tears filled his eyes. Dad said nothing, but I could tell he was watching. I swung the bat again, this time right into his face. There was a large nail in it that managed to find a lovely home in his right eye, and in several other places as I hit him repeatedly, letting my anger out on him. When I was done, I threw my bat at the ground, looking over at Dad, my chest heaving. He looked very amused.

“You had some crazy shit going on in your mind to wanna do that to him, kid.” I picked up the bat and carried it with me as I walked over to him. He once more put his arm around me as we walked down the hallway.

“Dearest daughter,” he proudly said.

“What?”

“I’m very proud of you. Keep that shit up.” 

“Thanks,” I said as we walked slowly. I decided to finish my sentence by saying a simple “Dad”.

(That was, I guess, a part one? I dunno, lemme know if you want more.)