#&. negan smith | dialogue.

[justsomegdude]

Prisoner!Negan x Gn!Reader

Prompt: “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you, or shove you off a bridge.” // “Can I pick?”

Warning: Negan.

A/N: I don’t know if you guys actually like these silly things I come up with, but i’m trying to get used to writing so i’m starting small so i can get comfy with writing actual one shots and stories! (my posting patterns will be all over the place as i haven’t gotten used to writing yet!)

You had visited Negan, You were in charge of handing him his meals. Throughout the time of you doing so, you had gotten closer to him. He still annoyed you to the end though.

You and Negan were mostly comfortable with each other, you’ve told each other a lot about your life before the apocalypse. While you were there when he was against your community, it almost felt like you befriended him, understood him.

“Hi Negan!” You enter the room holding a tray with his meal, a wide smile spread across your face. You now stood in front of the bars of his cell.

“Hey, Doll.” He replied, standing up and walking towards the bars to stand in front of you. He looked down at the food, a slight smile tugging at his lips, he seems happy with the meal you brought him. “Can’t believe you still bother to feed me.”

You looked up at him and shifted your weight to your opposite foot. “It’s not a bother.. I actually enjoy it. sometimes.” You went over to unlock his cell, You’re meant to cuff him, but after so long you trust he won’t do anything dumb. You still don’t trust him as a person though. Handing him his food and locking it back up.

“Sometimes? Only sometimes?” He snickered as he took the food with pride and set the tray down on his cot, ignoring it as he walked back up to the bars. His right hand went to hold the bar in front of him, leaning over you the best he can.

“Yes sometimes, you’re only okay some days.” You look up at him, the smile on your face still present. “Somedays I can tolerate you, other days I wanna rip your vocal cords out, most days I want to murder you.” Your smile widened as you obviously joked.

He let out yet another laugh. “Damn doll, you’re kinky.” He looked down upon you, his tongue moving to lick over his lower lip, looking down at your own lips. His body weight shifted forward, closer to the bars. “What about right now?” He asked.

Your glance looked down to his lips for a split second before it heads back to his eyes. “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you, or shove you off a bridge.” You spoke and set your hand on your hip, tilting your head a little.

“Can I pick?” He asked and bit his lip right after, you knew exactly what he wanted to pick. His behavior making it extremely clear. “Because if I were to pick, I’d want a kiss.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’d like that too much though.” You lick your lips and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. Flirting was common between the both of you, most conversations included it.

He bit the inside of his cheek when you licked your lips. “I would.. but don’t you want to make ol’Negan happy?” His eyes fixated on your lips still as he spoke.

You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, he didn’t specify where, and you just felt like teasing him. You smiled and put your hands in your pockets.

“You little shit.” He huffed a laughed and looked at his feet, he was touch-starved and you knew that. So teasing him was so much more fun. He looked up at you with one eye squinted, a scrunched up face showed to you. He liked it, and he didn’t, just as you’d hope.

“Hope you enjoy your weekly affection.” Teasing more. It was wrong to feel this way about him, especially from what’s he’s done, but it honestly felt nice.

“I’d enjoy more affection..” He looked down at his feet again, almost like he was embarrassed about yearning for love. You brought your hand up and rested it over his hand, that was still on the bars. He smiled as you had done this, moving his hand to hold yours, holding each others hands after no longer resting them on the bars.

You shared a smile and a knowing glance. He made you feel happy, and you made him feel happy too.

[gerathewise]

they still need family therapy 🤲

[drewmorg4n]

thanks for the lyrics whore

@addicted2twd

[godstrayed]

　"You can come back with me." Negan offers with a sigh, "This isn't sustainable. The world is not meant to be lived like this. The living and the dead shouldn't be standing side by side. It's not natural." Of course, he couldn't make too many promises. His own position at Alexandria was rocky but Carol had given her word and he had a feeling that favor could and would be extended. "C'mon you gotta know that already." / @untilthcyrot

[vilentia]

You: Negan, you've led the Saviors for a long time. What do you believe is the most important quality in a leader?

Negan: Well, I think it depends on the situation, but I've always believed that a good leader needs to be able to inspire loyalty in their followers. You've got to make people believe that they're a part of something bigger than themselves. That's how you get people to put their lives on the line for you.

You: But you've also been known for using fear and intimidation to control your people. Do you think that's a sustainable approach to leadership?

Negan: Look, in this world, you need to be tough to survive. You can't coddle people and expect them to follow you. Sometimes you have to show them that you mean business. But it's not just about fear. You also have to provide for your people, keep them safe, and make them feel like they're a part of something. It's a delicate balance.

You: It sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this. How did you develop your leadership style?

Negan: *pauses* It's not something I like to talk about, but let's just say I've had some experiences in my past that have shaped the way I see the world. I've seen how people can be, how they can turn on each other when things get tough. That's why I do what I do. It's not about being cruel, it's about survival.

You: I can understand that, but don't you ever worry that your actions will come back to haunt you? That people will turn on you if they get the chance?

Negan: Of course I worry about that. But it's a risk I have to take. If I don't do what needs to be done to keep my people safe, then what kind of leader am I? It's a tough world out there, and sometimes tough choices have to be made. I just hope that one day people will understand that I did what I had to do.

[loganlostitall]

Canon asf and I’d give him a list as tall as me

negan: who hurt you?

y/n: what do you want, a list?

negan: ...

negan: actually yes. names and addresses.

[justsomegdude]

Prisoner!Negan x Gn!Reader

Prompt: “This can’t get any worse, can it?” // “Sure it can, just give me a minute.”

A/N: I am IN LOVE with prisoner Negan, I try to keep my best to keep gender out of my posts, in case there is males(like myself), or another gender identity wanting to read. Maybe when i get used to writing i’ll make actual one shots (maybe multi chapters) but until then i’m sticking to prompt quotes. Enjoy, send feedback, and ideas you might want me to write!

(stay tuned for the next few days because i may or may be trying to write a one shot!)

You were the one responsible for checking in, and giving food, to Negan. You got it by being one of the calmest in stressful situations. Ever since you’ve known Negan, he’s always been a thorn on a rose stem. Annoying you any chance he can get. Although never knowing exactly why he loves doing it so much.

“Hey Negan, Got your food.” You say as you enter the room where his cell was. Bringing the food you always served, a sandwich. Although he never seems pleased with what food you give him.

“What’s in the menu today?” He didn’t look towards you, just laying in his cot with his stare at the ceiling. Sometime you feel like you should pity this man, but then you remember what he’s done and that thought quickly went away.

“Like usual, a sandwich.” You spoke, holding out the sandwich, but it seems he has no interest in taking it. It upset you when he got like this, like he was trying to starve himself to death. Rick gave you this position to make sure he stays alive, but if he doesn’t eat you failed Rick.

“One of the kids here would love that more than I would, sweetheart.” His grin back, as he sat up on his cot. Still, he isn’t fully getting up to take it. You can’t force him to eat it, but you have to try.

“Negan, just take the sandwich.” You glare at him, hoping your, now, position of power over him will make him listen. Still no sign he’s getting up.

“This can’t get any worse, can it?” He sighed, his gaze went from you to the floor. Again you wanted to pity him, but you just can’t.

“Sure it can, just give me a minute.” The corners of your mouth tugging into a smirk, as you grab your pocket knife. No, you weren’t actually going to do anything, but maybe it will give him a reason to eat.

“God, Darlin’.. Don’t be such a turn on.” It almost sounded like he groaned out the pet name. He finally stood up with that atrocious remark. Smirking the entire way when he grabbed the sandwich from you and returned back to his cot. “Might make me want to live.”

Your eyes closed partly, squinting at him. “You think you’d want to live.. because ‘i’m a turn on’?” You let out a short huff and put your pocket knife away. “You know how stupid that sounds?”

His eyes glanced back up to you, speaking in between slow bites of his food. “Not as stupid as my thoughts, Darlin’. Especially when you’re in them.” He bit his lip, looking you up and down. You almost felt exposed, even when you didn’t specifically do anything.

“Negan, watch your mouth.” You spoke with clear irritation, you almost have a feeling of endearment, if it weren’t for who you were talking to. “and your eyes.”

He let out a chuckle, leaning back in his cot. “My eyes wonder. What can I say, they’re attracted by beauty.” He either found you attractive, and was attempting at flirting, or he was just trying to annoy you.

“I wish I wasn’t messing around when I pulled my knife out.” Your hand found their way to your pockets.

[godstrayed]

the ability to speak does not make you intelligent. (from Carol to Negan. Because you know she would so say that to him!)

ღ memes. ╱ always accepting.

　Negan's smile curves. It's one of those things he knows has been a factor into why his relationships with everyone around him is so tumultuous. He said exactly what was on his mind to his own detriment. No matter that most of the time he was fuckin' right about whatever he was spewing. There was time for tact and it just seemed Negan never really hit the mark.

"You don't gotta like what I am sayin' but know I am right. The sooner you people ease up and accept it it'll be considerably fuckin' more comfortable for everyone."

[vilentia]

Headcanon

If Negan had a soft spot for you

Dialogue

Good leader

[godstrayed]

　He doesn't understand why everyone clung to the past and the remnants of their humanity as if it was ever going to be like it was before. This new world was going to those with the balls to reach out and take it. Should he be sorry for how he's navigated survival knowing that no one would have ever shown him mercy? What benefits did it have to evoke weaknesses and cry about tragedies? The dead were literally fucking coming back to life and hunting them. There was no room for kindness or forbearance anymore. He only wished she would see where he was coming from. What he was capable of doing for them to survive. Negan wasn't proud of it but he knew none of that shit mattered.

"Honey," It's deep and consoling because despite it, he wishes it were different. This was no world to live in. Certainly, nothing to bring up hope or children in. What was being left was a wasteland of bodies, morality, and everything they cherished was rotting. "People just don't work that way. They take, take, and take. Fear is just another means of manipulating them. They have to understand the consequences of their fuckin' actions. It's nothing pretty, nothing kind, but I am not disillusioned. It is what it is, sweetheart. If I waver, they will take me out in a second to claim it all as their own. Just like what I did to the incompetent fuck before me."

this is his world . the world in which he thrives , a world made for men who craved power , needed to feel as though they mattered . and she can't help but wonder if this is somehow her fault . had she only stayed , had she believed that she could heal and fought through it by his side , would this be the same negan that would have emerged ? not that it matters . there's no going back now that they're here . mistakes have been made and hearts have been broken and the world has fallen apart and just maybe negan knows best because she has to believe that this is the best way to handle the world . out of every community she'd crossed , every group of survivors ... this is the only one that seemed to know how to actually survive .

a thick swallow and fingers tighten around his wrist . his words sit heavily on her , twist her heart into an understanding she's not sure she wants . " but ... you've given them everything . this is the only damn shelter i've seen that actually keeps those things out . and if they fuck that up , don't they know they're fucked ? why don't they just shut up and live ? they've got everything they need , don't they ? "

[godstrayed]

"Now would you look at that ! We got a real fuckin' hilarious comedian over here. Now if only being a wise guy was going to save your god damn life." Negan was in no mood for jokes. He wanted to get to the bottom of who had been attacking the outpost and it seemed this particular person knew more than what they were saying. "Now you can tell me what I want to know or you can try your stand up routine with my lovely Lucille here. But let's keep in mind what's going to happen if she doesn't find you funny." He knocks his barbed and beloved bat ' Lucille' against the ground for emphasis.

[loganlostitall]

Talking to the Moon

Rating: 13+

Word count: Just under 3.5k

Characters: Judith Grimes, Negan Smith (NOT A SHIP!!!!!!); mentions of Carl, Rick, Michonne, Carol, Enid, and R.J.

Setting: Alexandria, post 6 year jump

Content Warnings: sibling grief, talks of death, a little bit of suicidal ideation in here too I think, vulgarity, light talk of typical TWD violence, just lots of sad. Sorry. Fluffy ending tho!

Summary: Judith is getting older, and it’s not fair that Carl isn’t.

Author’s Note: Okaaayy so I really did not want the first piece I published on here to be an angsty vent but life kinda decided to bodyslam me (as usual) so anyways have this lol. I spent all day yesterday writing this in between crying fits and I’m only finishing it now.. oopsie whoopsies. A little context I guess, my older brother was shot and killed 5 years ago, and in 5 years I will be older than he got to be. That’s heavily implemented in here, as well as just the majority of Judith’s dialogue being my own thoughts/feelings. Sometimes it just hits you again, man. My therapist likes me to write it out 🤷🏻 I’m workin on other stuff that isn’t like this so pls bear w me y’all 😭🙏🏽

Beta’d by @murdadixon as alwayysss

Midnight marked her 10th birthday. 

She liked to keep track of time in intervals of five. R.J. was currently an interval of 5. He died at an interval of five. She was reaching an interval of 5 herself, right now. In a demi-decade, she would encounter the age he’d never passed; and in a decade, she would be 5 years older than he’d ever be. Five felt significant, and she did not—she simply felt like her brother’s stand-in. 

Judith sat on the edge of the wooden boardwalk with her legs drawn up to her chest and both arms wrapped around her knees, chin rested atop them, and stared blankly at the water source before her. Tried to mimic its stillness. But she disrupted it, instead, because the tears swimming in her brown eyes splattered down and sent ripples coursing across the surface, growing larger the further they fanned out and expanded. 

That was, similarly, how missing Carl felt. At the start, it was a heavy impact, it obliterated the calmness, and as the years blazed past, it got further away and yet simultaneously… bigger. How could something shrink and grow? How could she grow, every day; and yet consistently feel as if she were being pushed back, made smaller? Small enough to be back in his arms again, like before, like that final night she knew him. 

She would appreciate his last words this time. She would wrangle her brain up into her juvenile hands and pin it down to carve them over the top of her damn hippocampus to keep them there; even if it did mean her blood got everywhere, even if it meant she lost all the rest of her cognitive function. Truthfully, she did not want to function this way. Being medically brain dead would be a graciousness. Or maybe just being bit.

Feeling the fever Carl did would unite them in a way. 

The panels beside her creaked recognizably, a familiar gait and stride, and Judith’s fingers twitched to move instinctively for a gun she knew she wouldn’t brandish. The scuffed tips of two large black boots entered her peripheral vision but she did not turn her gaze. 

“Hey there, Miss Grimes.” 

Negan sat in a loose mirror of Judith’s position—he struggled with holding his legs in exactly the same manner and had to improvise considerably. He got himself comfortable with his legs toward his chest but with a short gap between his thighs, toes pointing outward instead of inward as Judith’s were, and both forearms crossed above his knees to lie his head upon. 

“Don’t really like water, kid, but I’m diving in there after ya if you jump, so please don’t, alright? For me?” 

The preteen wiped her right cheek against her bicep and tilted her head to rest the left cheek against the adjacent knee and look at her guest. Her eyes weren’t really seeing him, but she was trying to acknowledge the fact that he’d joined her. “How’d you get out?” 

He ignored that she ignored his question and instead plastered on the usual grin, even if the edges were heavy and worn down, and lifted a finger to his smile. 

Shhhh, it’s a secret. It went without saying. 

“I should shoot you. I brought my gun,” she pestered, poking a bear with a stick. Only, this bear was a puppy. And the humor behind the words didn’t reach her tone. 

He decided not to address her monotony.

“Mmhmm. Right.” 

“I would.” 

“I know,” he grinned again, more genuinely, and his side administered a dull throb almost out of nostalgia. She had, in fact, shot him. He wouldn’t challenge that.

There were only a few moments that went without speech. Judith found herself gazing ahead again, tapping her right cowgirl boot without tempo because it was simply to alleviate the odd, incessant gnawing in her gut that screamed to bounce her leg, or else. 

“Why don’t I get to have a word?” she blurted out, albeit quietly, almost unaware that Negan could not read her mind and was clueless to what she really meant. The man hummed questioningly as if to say ‘continue,’ and Judith finished verbalizing the thought. “I mean… mom’s a widow, and you’re a widower. Enid is an orphan. Aunt Carol is a v- vi..lo..mah, she lost her daughter Sophia.” The young girl struggled on the pronunciation momentarily before returning to the point. “But what am I? Just… a kid who lost a brother? Don’t I deserve a word? Doesn’t Carl? I think he deserves more than one. I would give him them all.” 

In truth, Negan would not have heard the second half of her statement had they not been knee-to-knee. Even from only having a view of the profile of her face, he could tell that she was fighting back the need to cry. The intensity with which she swallowed, the twitch of the corners of her frown, her small nostrils flaring. She was probably also avoiding allowing her voice to crack. 

Kids don’t ever deserve to feel this way. Adults can hardly even cope with loss. He’d seen it sometimes before, the occasional teen with swollen eyes and dark circles wordlessly offering him a slip with a small, rectangular obituary card stapled to the top left corner to excuse a few days of absence after the passing of a parent, guardian, or otherwise crucial family member. And similar to now, he truly tried his best… when it came to situations like that. It was hard—shit, it still is hard, but after eventually grasping that what most of them wanted was to just be heard (and not to be told that a kick-ass exercise routine could distract a weak mind, or about how being a pussy didn’t get you pussy), he’d take his attendance and approach again with a juniors mitt and baseball to throw at the wall and catch while they cried, screamed, shook, even dissociated some of them. He’d never been a great man, or honestly even a kind teacher; Savior Negan essentially just carried on acting as he had before Lucille’s confrontation, diagnosis, and passing; but the kids who saw through him loved him. When the rest loathed to hear ‘Mr. Smith,’ though no one was to blame for that but himself. To the damaged kids, the whole façade of coolness he tried to upkeep around his classes was utter horseshit because they found him badass when he let them bitch about things without taking to the nearest phone as a mandatory reporter. 

Judith was, arguably, the most mature ten year old with significant trauma that he’d ever sat with. Children that young hadn’t been his area of work, really, but there were a handful of times one of his high school students had to drag along a little sibling because they’d emancipated after the death of the only responsible parent, were granted custody of the kid, and the younger had a day off. Other stories, heavily similar or drastically different, with the same outcome. Judith was more put together than half of the seniors that had dished their shit out on him. In a strictly militant world and with no empire turning to him for guidance, there was no excuse to be assertive around her age bracket. He would tell her she was strong, that she was an Amazon warrior who could brave anything and then have to explain Wonder Woman comics, but the probability was massive that she could only grasp some variation of control over herself in these heavy moments because life now held a sickening promise that anything could be marred with a streak of blood. That you have to always be ready to mourn. 

So fucked up. 

His prior internal assessment to remain silent and give her more time to process her feelings into words proved correct when Judith turned her head back in his direction again with more to express to him. 

“Dad isn’t here anymore to tell me what Carl was like at my age. Or tell me stories about before everything got bad. And mom wasn’t around for all that stuff. But even if she was, I- I hate always hearing about him from other people. About how they won’t ever get to see him grow up. Why does everyone else get to remember my brother? Why doesn’t anybody care that I gotta know he’s not watching me grow up anymore? I want to remember Carl on my own, but I was too little!” Her delicate voice shattered beneath the weight of her last sentence, and the way her eyebrows were flying into all different angles on her face betrayed that her developing mind didn’t know what to do with the guilt that ignited furiously behind her ribs for seemingly such a selfish notion. It was a vicious fact that Judith almost never understood what she was feeling, not acutely. 

But, she trusted Negan. He’d told her things that no one else had cared to let her know. About Abraham. About Glenn. About Sasha, Denise, uncle Daryl. Everyone she loved had been damaged by him in some way, but… they’d all together affected him, too. 

Maybe he changed. Or maybe he’d been keeping this Negan safe. Whatever the case, here he was, out of his cell, not even allowing his knee to bump her own. 

This man had killed people? He was the kindest one here to her. Especially when it came to stuff like this. Other Alexandrians always dismissed her; she didn’t have any “adult” problems worth sparing their time for. How could the big bad wolf be so tame? 

Judith wiped both of her eyes and straightened her left leg out halfway. “If… if Carl hadn’t got bit, what do you think things would be like now?”

And that question certainly beckoned an answer. He had been allowing her to talk as much as she felt necessary tonight, content to simply sit quietly and be an ear for the little girl as she often was for him. His skull would have been split open on one of those prison walls years ago had it not been for his little window and Judith’s spark of rebellious humanity. 

Negan responded honestly, as was always the case with her. “I woulda killed every last one of these dickwipes, and brought you and Carl back to the Sanctuary with me. I don’t kill kids. But I don’t think your brother would have been too crazy about that. Nah, with those titanium balls of his, he would have taken me down, torn all of my people apart limb from fuckin’ limb. Yeah…,” he peered down at Judith, who was just watching him with her elbow on her extended knee and her cheek rested on her palm. No signs of distress. He continued on. “Yeah, Prick thought he was a badass, but Carl? Well, he was the real badass. Anybody could’a killed me, my bet was on him. Catch me off guard, I wouldn’t have fought back. I think he would have stocked one of my big ass trucks with everything he needed and taken off with you knowing he won. But he also would have lost everything.” 

Now, Judith’s energy had shifted back into that murky cloud it had resembled before. Not entirely, but to a noticeable degree. Negan cursed under his breath. 

“Did I scare you talking abou-” 

“You think Carl would have raised me all on his own? You really think he would have done that?”

“Oh, I know it,” Negan nodded adamantly, without aggressive urgency, and chipped a piece of plastic from the aglet of his shoelace to chuck into the water. “Carl loved you more than anyone else, I think.” 

A brittle, cracked sob drew his attention immediately to the little girl beside him, left hand reaching out to comfort on instinct and then hovering uselessly between them. Judith gave her permission with action instead of words; turning her legs off to the side to be able to roll onto her right hip and notch herself against Negan’s side. She rested her head against his knee and old tears from her cheek seeped through the thin material of his jumper. The previously awkward arm dropped around her own and he settled for hanging his hand at an outward angle away from her body. He’d comfort the kid but any one of the adults here would send Michonne into a goddamned stroke by reporting that he’d made an attempt against her daughter's life by, say, scratching the back of her head. Some asinine bullshit. He wouldn’t risk it, and not because of himself. No, he’s a big boy and can handle his own conflicts. But Judith would get in so much unnecessary trouble. 

After taking a minute to gather herself, Judith whispered, “I think I would have liked that better.” 

“…What, Carl taking care of ya?” He queried. “Y’know that means you wouldn’t have your mom, or dad, or-”

“Mommies and daddies die before their kids do, or they’re supposed to. Siblings are- they’re supposed to be there the whole time you grow up, and after. You’re supposed to live your life together. And they’re not supposed to die before you mom and dad do.” 

“Kid-”

“I want Carl. I’d give up anyone here to get him back.” 

It proved remarkably difficult given how much taller he was than her, but Negan managed to make do. He tilted his neck to a sideways angle and rested his head on top of hers whilst fishing through his right pocket. 

Judith peeked up at him. “What’re you doing? Are you gonna stab me for making you sad? I’ve still got my-”

“No. Don’t be nosey,” he goaded and even ventured so far as to stick his tongue out and wrinkle his nose. Her head dropped back down to his leg just as quickly as it rose, and Negan’s fingers closed around the surprise. 

“Sounds like a candy wrapper…,” she mumbled, still too lost in her own head and the darkness residing. 

Two bright blue pouches withdrew from his pocket, and his brown eyes traveled skyward. “Moon’s right above our heads now. Means it’s midnight. I got ya a gift.” 

A second, smaller pair of brown irises gazed upon the same sky, and her bottom lip began to give way into trembles again so Negan damn near shoved the quite literally sweet present directly in front of her face. 

Judith blinked, eyes focusing on the text in front of them that stood out violently against the package design. “What’s ‘Razzles?’” A small hand accepted the curious, but still exciting new treat, and read the yellow script surrounding the name at the top and bottom. “‘First it’s candy, then it’s gum’? What’s gum?” 

Negan had already ripped his open. “You’re about to give me one fat ass kiss, Miss Grimes,” he mused delicately, tossing three colorful disks into his mouth.

His much younger counterpart followed suit, unsure of how to react while the candy crunched before a scintillating smile broke out across her face and two more pieces joined the first. “Where’d you get these?”

“…Okay, don’t laugh,” he deadpanned, and couldn’t help but smirk when Judith narrowed her eyes at him and raised an accusatory eyebrow, still blissfully chewing away. “I’ve gotta secret admirer.” He drew his shoulders up into a loose shrug, threw his hands out in a ‘surprise!’ gesture and dropped his mouth open to an overly enthused smile as the preteen choked on gum. 

“WHAT?!? What do you mean?! Tell me, tell me!” 

He wouldn’t comment on how much tension finally dissipated from his body and mind at the eager enthusiasm on Judith’s face. This had all been so… glum. “Don’t know, but they slip me goodies through the bars on the window. I asked Father Freaky for some paper to draw, keep my mind busy y’know, and left a note up there requesting a special birthday gift for my best friend. They got dropped in this morning.” 

“So, someone here in Alexandria?” she asked, munching her way through her bag of sweets. There was a twinkle in her eyes, finally, so he’d entertain it. 

He shrugged idly. “I’d assume so. I’ve got my fingers crossed there’s some freaky deaky coming my way!!” 

“Oh, ew. There it is, you ruined this whole thing.” Judith pushed on the side of his knee with both hands to amass enough force to actually shove his leg over. 

“Damn. This whole thing, huh?” 

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, her mouth now so full of chewed up gray gum that speaking proved difficult. 

Negan chomped down on a considerable number of candies all at once and reached for Judith’s own pack of Razzles. “Alright, I’ll just take this then, since I fucked up your birthday and all.” A deep, rumbling laugh burst forth from up out of his chest when the ten year old shouted ‘NO!!!’ and a huge wad of gum rolled out of her mouth to plink into the water and bob along to float elsewhere. The pout her bottom lip garnished was impressive and Negan glanced around to the houses in the distance behind them, all of the windows being dark with the quiet insinuation of sleep, to ensure the absence of scrutinizing eyes before taking one of Judith’s hands into his own to unload half the contents of his own candy until her palm was overflowing and a few stray pieces thumped down against the wood. Negan administered the 5 second rule with a quickness and claimed them for himself. 

“Thanks,” she chimed faintly, and set about organizing the surplus of thin, cylindrical candies into separate groups of yellow, purple, orange, pink, and blue. 

Negan tucked his hand back to his side and pointedly did not give any attention to the prominent droop Judith’s shoulders adopted afterward. He wondered fleetingly if anyone in town ever just… gave the kid a hug. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Really. It’s not like I went out and found these myself.” He pointed one of his own bits of candy at her and added, “Well, you can always just find my paramour and thank them yourself.”                

She tilted her head back against his arm to smile up at him. “You just want me to get you deets. You have a crush on this person already, uncle Negan?” 

“I’ll love anybody who gives me attention at this point,” he shrugged again, tone steady despite the admission. “Aren’t I hopelessly in love with you, Miss Grimes?” 

Her braid swung and the sheriff’s hat far too oversized for her head shifted slightly out of place when she nodded. She tucked the intertwined strands of hair behind her ear after they fell into her face and tickled her nose. “I never hear mom say that she loves me.” 

“Ah, she does.” He tapped a finger against his temple once he knew Judith was looking at him and would see it. “She’s got a lot going on up here. But I bet if you went up to Mich and told her first, she’d say it back.” 

The young girl nodded again, though this motion was a simple, stiff jerk and only once. Drastically unlike the one he’d earned for himself just moments prior. Judith didn’t believe that Michonne really loved her, but she could easily surmise that he did. “Love you, too,” she murmured and a hefty sigh followed closely behind. Judith tapped the toes of her boots against the boardwalk and followed Negan’s offered instruction to bravely attempt blowing her first bubble. It snapped into a sticky disaster on her lips. The pair fell into a comfortable, innocent, expectationless silence. Negan eventually polished off the last of his candy and crumpled the wrapper up to tuck away into the pocket he retrieved it from, along with Judith’s once she’d finished her own. She was, reasonably, exhausted, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that Judith had drifted off leaning against him. 

Next thing he knew, the clouds were graying and little hands were nudging his arm, accompanied by a sleep-slurred voice telling him to wake up. His legs were numb from having remained in the same seated position for what had to be at least a couple hours, but Negan still managed to get himself up into his feet and follow her along as she led the way to his cell. A sheepish smile and tired shrug was all he could muster when her eyes lingered on the lock and bobby-pin discarded haphazardly in the middle of the concrete. He took his place on his cot and watched the child close the bars behind him and slide the lock back into place. 

Judith turned from him to walk away, but threw a drowsy smile over her shoulder and waved. And pointless as it was, he spoke after she’d left and her shadow had already passed by his solitary window.

“Happy birthday, kid.” 

I think I get attached to characters like Negan who are dangerous and have soft hearts because that’s exactly what my brother was like.

I miss my Carl ❤️‍🩹

This is my first time writing for TWD, and the first work I’m posting in over 2 years, so I hope it’s good for y’all 🥺

[murkyhazed-is-archiving]

MUTUALS comment for a ONE LINER DIALOGUE starter. only the following muses available, please select one (and fellow multis comment your muse too) or else no starter!

karen smith

regina george

gimli

gollum

theoden

charlie swan

cassandra pressman

gemma teller

nancy wheeler

will byers

any sweet magnolias muse

daryl dixon

maggie rhee

michonne hawthorne

negan smith

tess servopoulos

abigail blyg

bobbi dougherty

[whateverthedragonswant]

So ever since I received a comment a few days ago on one of my Jonsa posts, a certain portion of it has been sitting in my brain: "You mean besides how Dany’s story amounts to nothing? And says that anyone fighting against an unjust system should never be trusted, so it was better that she never had power or the ability to fight back? Or how about that she shouldn’t have been born to begin with since she was crooked and ugly from the start? That’s reassuring for a lot of people who’ve found a sense of inspiration in her at low points in their life."

And I just need to talk about it. Putting everything under the cut:

Warning: spoilers for endings of Dean Winchester/Supernatural, Villanelle/Killing Eve, Negan Smith/The Walking Dead/Dead City up ahead.

So this comment has been sitting in my brain because I think I'm having a hard time processing that there are still people out there who actually think this about Daenerys' story. And this goes back to what I've been saying the entire time how that throne room scene dialogue change Emilia wanted thrown in absolutely negated the impact of Dany's actual true arc and the tragedy/moral of her story.

As always, I'm only talking about the showverse, the adaptation of the books.

First, Dany's story didn't amount to nothing. It was actually a very well told story (minus the bungling of the execution of the end there). If we take a step back and look at the picture as a whole, she actually was integral to the story and played a very major part in it. Not only as the main villain or the main antagonist or the final boss or however you want to refer to her, but like the butterfly effect, her actions (and decisions) affected the other characters around her and the story as a whole. That's not nothing.

"And says that anyone fighting against an unjust system should never be trusted, so it was better that she never had power or the ability to fight back" - It is because of her that Westeros has now changed on a massive political scale and it's no accident that Tyrion Lannister was the one to nominate Bran Stark as the next King. She set out to break the wheel and whatever her reasons, however she went about it, she did it. She achieved it. She broke the wheel. That's what enables the new political system to be in place, that is taking a very tiny baby step towards democracy, not there just yet but there was change.

Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros and Targareyens were in power for centuries, the de facto ruling family. Things were done their way during that time. Then Robert's Rebellion happened and the Targaryens were destroyed (to an extent) and their rules were thrust out. But the way the Targaryens ruled did not change overmuch because the Lannisters had come into power and they became the new Targaryens but in the new world so to speak. There are many reasons why Daenerys and Cersei are paralleled so much. The only difference between the Lannisters and the Targaryens was the allowable incestuous wedding and bedding, and the absence of dragons (aka power). Which is why Tywin uses other methods of instilling fear and utilizes gold to the nth degree. "Hear Me Roar" ( and the more ominous saying of "A Lannister Always Pays His Debts") isn't that far off from "Fire and Blood". The same threat is there (as well as the posturing of power and being in charge) but just worded differently.

A dragon is meant to rule over all, especially three dragons.

A lion (with the mane as pictured) is meant to rule over all in the animal kingdom, especially its own pride.

I mean:

My whole long point being that the Targaryens were the old ruling dynasty. Silver-haired and used their dragons to wield power. Fire and Blood.

The Lannisters were the current ruling family (through Robert and then themselves once Robert had died), poised to become the new ruling dynasty. Golden-haired and used their gold and influence to wield power. Hear Me Roar.

Dany didn't just break the wheel, she also deposed/ousted/destroyed the current ruling family as well, making way for a new ruling dynasty to come along, a new world. And that makes sense that she would be the one to do it (and that her actions killed Jaime and Cersei together while Cersei was pregnant with their child/future) because the Lannisters were never meant to be endgame. Just like it also makes sense that Cersei was the first Queen to take the Iron Throne. And it also makes sense why Cersei told Jaime to hell with everyone else and she wanted to set up their own dynasty for 1000 years, not caring if Westeros knew Jaime fathered her children or not. They were becoming the new Targaryens and they wouldn't be good for the realm. Hence the splitting of the "Mad Queen" narrative between Cersei and Daenerys. This doesn't take away from Daenerys or any bad choices she made or who was the worse murderer, but it shows that there was a plan here in the story and Daenerys was very much a part of it and a big player in it.

It's no coincidence she was given three dragons. It's no coincidence that she named two of them after her brothers (like Aegon's two sisters helped him to conquer Westeros), the two sides of her and only in the end would we see that Drogon (named for Drogo) would represent who Daenerys really was the whole time. So it absolutely makes sense that she would be the one to come to Westeros to conquer it again, starting at King's Landing (as Aegon did), taking out the new Targaryens, breaking the wheel, and closing up the Targaryen circle so to speak. She was right, she did have a destiny, it just wasn't what she thought or dreamed for herself. Her decision dictated her end.

And it's also no coincidence that this happened with Aegon (aka Jon), the other side of the coin to Dany in character, and that he is the one who has to make the choice to either stop her from forging the world into her vision or join her. No coincidence that he then becomes The Last Targaryen and is going back to the Night's Watch again, a la Aemon. Aemon had to forswear the name Targaryen in order to serve the Citadel. When his older brother died, despite those who wanted to see him crowned King, he refused and the crown passed to his younger brother.

And this prompted Aemon to join the Night's Watch so his access to the crown (and people trying to use him as a political rival to his brother) would be removed completely.

So it made absolute sense that both Dany and Jon had purposes to fulfill in the story in regards to Westeros and the Iron Throne. Not just because of their claims but also because they were the last remaining parts in the wheel of that house.

And it also makes sense that a new ruling family was set up (though not a dynasty in Bran's case since the next ruler will be chosen by the Council of Lords instead of it staying in the family) but also a new dynasty was set up (though it had been around before the Targaryens came to Westeros so not so new really but it was the dynasty meant to be restored) through their actions. The Targaryens and Lannisters had both been ripped out root and stem (with the exception of Tyrion though had Dany lived, Tyrion would not have) in preparation for a new world to grow.

And as we know House Stark's words are "Winter is coming" which is not a threat or a boast of their power/strength but a warning and call for preparation for a worse threat coming. Plus:

While we see the wolf with its teeth bared, it is not in an attack position (like the lion above) or in an aggressive position at all (like we see with the dragons having fire coming out of their mouths above), even the banner with just the wolf's head like we see in the show, and there are no flashy colors like the Lannisters' or ominous coloring like the Targaryens'. There is no red for blood or power, and no yellow for gold. This (House Stark) was always going to be the dynasty that was restored, just not ruling over Westeros but their own land, as they had before the Targaryens threw a monkey wrench into everything. Chosen by their people and trusted/loved by them as well, independent from the other Six Kingdoms and everything involved with that.

But back to Daenerys, she served a much greater purpose in the story than I think most give her credit for. Regardless of what decisions she made in the end, the purpose the narrative had for her had been served. Same with Jon. So to say that the message here is "anyone fighting against an unjust system should never be trusted, so it was better that she never had power or the ability to fight back" is imho incorrect. Daenerys' own family was responsible for that unjust system that you speak of. I'm not saying she was, but her family was, and had Viserys gotten back on the IT it would have continued. Had Cersei and the Lannisters somehow defeated Dany, it would have continued. We saw plenty of times that Dany stood up against an unjust system and won, advancing her narrative. What you are meant to question in the end after seeing all of the decisions she's made is how she went about getting those victories and were they really this honorable selfless quest to free those from the wheel so there would be equality, peace, and prosperity for all? Or was that not the case when it comes to her? You're meant to question her actions and decisions. For example, a lot of people like to refer to her as the "Breaker of Chains" but if you go back and watch that scene again, you will see that when she gives the Unsullied a choice she still has the whip in her hand. And she doesn't get rid of it until they've all agreed to follow her, after seeing how much destruction one small dragon could inflict at her command. There's a reason they revisited the slavery and freedom issue in her Mereen arc and who wants to be free and who doesn't, etc. It's not just about her getting to know her people or their culture. "Mhysa is Master" is meant to make you think and take another look at just how free the Unsullied were, looking past Grey Worm and Missandei.

But before I go off on another tangent, it is absolutely always better that she had power to stand up against people who needed to be stood up to. This is why it absolutely floors me when I see people reducing this character's story to one thing or another, good or bad. One of GRRM's main points is to make his characters complex, to not make them one thing or another. Daemon Targaryen is a perfect example he gave. Daenerys is not just evil and not just good. She's a complex, flawed human being who made some wrong choices along the way and allowed her destiny to go to her head, that she then began using to justify the actions she took that were anything but right.

So making a statement like that is completely negating Daenerys' importance to the story and some of the good things she actually did in the narrative, all because you didn't like how her story ended.

Which leads into the third point I want to address. To each their own, feel how you feel, see what you see, interpret what you interpret. But it always boggles me when I hear someone saying that by Dany's ending, she can no longer be seen as a strong character, for women, for survivors, or any other group. And I guess I have to ask why that is. Dany is still one hell of a strong character and she was up until the end. She was given not only a major part in the story but also one hell of a powerful villain arc/turn. Not a lot of female characters get that. By her being the villain and having her ending, it's not negating anything she suffered and like most people in life, she was given a choice: continue to abuse/hurt/do the same as was done to you or don't continue that behavior and break free of that chain. While it appeared she had chosen the latter, in the end, she chose the former. Burning innocent children alive, going from street to street to set it on fire so none would survive so you can make your new world, that's not breaking the chain of behavior.

But she still got to make the choice. She wasn't pushed into it because of something a man had done, because she lost those she loved, or anything with her love for Jon, or because she lost her head. She made a sound and clear decision. That's strong as hell. She made decisions after decisions that led her to that final decision. How do you not see strength in that? Even when Jon confronted her in the throne room, she didn't back down from the decision she'd made (even though it was the wrong one). That's strength, especially considering the world she was surrounded by and the patriarchy. She wasn't punished for being a woman. She wasn't punished for being a survivor. She wasn't punished because she was a Targaryen or a Queen. She wasn't even being punished. She had fulfilled her purpose in the story and now it was Jon's decision (the other Targaryen) if he would allow her to continue reshaping the world or to stop her.

Another example that I can think of similar happening (though a lot of people won't agree with me on this) was Villanelle in Killing Eve (the showverse). The character had served her purpose, and she got to be the one that took out the big bad while having a redemption arc. She was very much the antihero in that moment. Her killing Bill, her killing people outside of assignments that weren't a threat to her but she just enjoyed killing them or they annoyed her -- all of that was going to come back to her at some point.

Once these characters who are not the heroes or sheroes serve their purpose in the story, that's it. It doesn't mean all of them die obviously but it doesn't mean they get a great big house with a white picket fence, a dog (or cat), and a happy ending. Especially if they performed some anatognistic or villain role in some way. Look at Negan from The Walking Dead for example. He had a redemption arc in the show and got to get married and have a baby on the way in the end, but he wasn't really able to stay with the group despite what Daryl and Maggie said to him. Then we have the new show which keeps Negan's story ongoing and the minute it starts we find out his wife and son are elsewhere because he has to stay away to keep them safe. And here he is, on the run again, still working for redemption and being the antihero, but no happy ending that we can see in the distance (and who knows how it will end, he may die, he may not).

Conversely, a lot of people were upset when Dean Winchester died in the end of Supernatural (me among them). He was one of the heroes in the story but his agency was taken from him in the manner they chose to have him die, it didn't make sense character or story wise with what the narrative was leading to, and because of the type of story they were telling (heavily leaning into the emotional trauma of these characters), it had bad messaging. That's a great example of railing at the writers and going "huh? what was the whole goddamn point?" But not Dany. (meaning her dark turn as a whole and her ending with Jon dealing with her)

So to say that Dany shouldn't have done what she did because it didn't end the way you wanted, I'm sorry, that's ludicrous and completely insulting to Dany's character. Feel how you feel, especially if she was someone who you looked up to and who got you through the rough times, but she absolutely was a strong character and I think in the emotion of what happened in the end (because some really still didn't see it coming even after all of the hints and foreshadowing for years on end), that tends to be forgotten. Dany is not a victim; she never was. She's a survivor and she was given full agency up until the very end. She went from not being able to choose to being able to choose. She went from being under men's control to having her own control. That's something to perhaps look at as a win, or a silver lining at the very least. Like I said, you're entitled to your opinions and valid feelings, I just feel like Dany deserves more credit as does her story as a whole, and her very important role doesn't deserve to be diminished because you didn't get the ending you wanted (i.e. a Targaryen restoration, Jon and Dany making tons of babies, Dany on the IT, etc.).

In my personal opinion, she's one of the best characters to ever exist and she's one of my favorites. I don't agree with a lot of the decisions she's made and I am not afraid to call her out on them or state where she went wrong or be critical, but I absolutely do it from a point of love for this character and one I view to be one of the strongest female characters I've ever seen on my screen to this day. How do you not find inspiration in that?

tldr; "You mean besides how Dany’s story amounts to nothing? And says that anyone fighting against an unjust system should never be trusted, so it was better that she never had power or the ability to fight back?" -> Dany's story doesn't amount to nothing and it doesn't say any of that if anything her story says the opposite.

[godstrayed]

“i don't have anything else..” from rhaella to negan

　Did anyone have much of anything anymore? There were the things they all had stolen from them and the things they desperately clung onto to make them feel human and alive despite the entire fuckin’ world doing its best to prove that incorrect. The only tangible thing anyone had remaining after all this bullshit was their lives. And even that, turned into commodity after a while.

The doom and gloom of the world was real. Negan, however, tried to make the best of the shit show inherited by the remaining survivors. He tended to categorize people by their usefulness and ability to survive. Even for him, she was an anomaly. Definitely hadn’t made it this far due to some keen or honed ability. Just a massive streak of good fuckin’ luck.

There was the very obvious fact she reminded him of home —— one that didn’t fully exist anymore but still was burned into his memory nonetheless. Lucille, but not. He knows she’s not because his Lu was a bad ass who didn’t have to ride on a streak of good fortune to make it. Negan knows but it doesn’t matter. ‘Cause was he really going to care when there was nothing else good left? Negan could be lucky too, right?

“I have a proposition for ya’, Ella.” Her name still a twister on his tongue. He’d get it down eventually. “I can give you a whole lot here. Don’t gotta be some downtrodden cockroach searchin’ for anything. You can live like royalty if you so choose. You just gotta do something for me too ‘cause nothings free. Not even kindness.”

[godstrayed]

He is doing good. Rick's patience and his understanding of the situation before him would get him a hellvua lot further than fighting. Negan didn't want to kill anyone else. He understood the situation as well as anyone. How precarious life was now — how their real enemy was the dead and those who fell out of the new order.

Rick's group is a little fucked in that regard. They poked the figurative sleeping bear. Now? They had to rue the consequences gracefully or be squashed out. It didn't REALLY matter to Negan either way. He only could hope they would be reasonable with their own lives. He was offering a lifeline and they only needed to reach for it.

“Hunger will keep you grateful. Hunger will remind you. And most importantly? Hunger will let you know where you stand.” They would leave just enough but it wouldn't be comfortable. And it wouldn't be easy. That was the punishment and also a cautionary step for himself as well. Hunger weakened and weak people couldn't attack him as easier. Could they spare the resources when they needed to do supply runs, farm their little fucking heads off, and make sure their own were good? Negan leans in, gaze steady. “Do you fucking understand what I expect, Rick?”

Rick is showing a great deal of self restraint because he knows what's on the line. Judith? He's not too worried about her falling into the line of fire, but he wouldn't put it beyond Negan taking her out of the camp. Carl is the one he worries for— headstrong and already ordered out of the area when the Saviors come. Grown, he's a potential target for more than a warning that could take a hand.

"Never said I took you for any sorta thing, Negan," he grumbles out. He'd like to take the man for someone that was fucking leaving the camp, but that was damn wishful thinking given he was going on now. Rick turned, glaring. "Then take what we owe you— just remember that if you leave us starving, at the end there's nothing for us to give. And I know we're the best scavengers you and yours got." Hilltop had their strengths, and the Kingdom theirs. Farming and weaponry making, good people and good forces able of a great deal. But Alexandria had those that weren't scared of a run, no matter how far. And Rick knew that. He was pretty sure Negan did, too.