#Negans son

[little-reader]

Woody Chp. 2

Masterlist

Carl Grimes x Male!Reader

If you were unaware, this is the second season of "The Son Of A Monster." You may not understand the following if you haven't read the first season. Thank you.

Warnings; SHORT MASTERBATION SCENE, Graphic Gore, Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, homosexual relationship (If you didn't know), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie Apocalypse. (The Walking Dead TV show)AMC rights, I do use the storyline and some scenes.

Carl ended up in the woods, a bag in his hand with water and food. He snuck out, there weren’t many people at the gate, so it wasn’t hard. He took the usual path when scouting out they would take a safe route, least walkers. He would just need to get back to the gas station he and his dad were near. He was then going to head into the woods, scope it out, and see if the man was really what he thought.

His feet crunched under his boots. Rick left that morning, by himself. The kingdom was ambushed, giving them limited personnel. Maggie wasn’t sure what they were going to do with the saviors, Aaron had a baby to look over,  and so far, they were winning. Negan hadn’t given up yet, even though he was surrounded completely by snipers and walkers. Carl wasn’t sure why they didn’t back down. He thought they were stupid for doing so, but nowadays, who wasn’t stupid?

Carl crossed very few walkers before he made it to the section of the woods near the gas station. He was able to avoid them, some trail, and got bored once he picked up his pace. 

The section was surrounded by trees and forest, allowing the man to get privacy and somewhat safety. Carl could tell this was it, there were two man-made human-sized toothpicks. 

His feet crept slowly, as the walker reached for a bag up high. He barely waited behind the tree, where he saw the man from before. He crept slowly and stabbed the knife into the walker's head, killing it there. Carl knew, or thought, that was the best time to make himself known. He took a slightly hesitant step, and gave a calm “Hey”, out to the man, who glanced in shock.

Carls hands wavered, and lifted, showing an empty hand and one with a bag in it. He took small steps, watching for roots but keeping an eye out. The man across from him stood in warning, nervous by the stranger. “I was my dad, they were warning shots above your head.” He said, still creeping closer, with a calm expression. He was trying to gain the man's trust or have the man not try to shoot him. It was time for him to introduce himself, this would allow him to bond, just a little, with the man. “Wasn’t shooting at you… I’m Carl.”

The man still didn’t fully let his guard down. He looked tired, hungry, and sweating nervously as he held his knife to his side, but pointed at Carl like he was a threat. He shifted on his feet, taking a slight step and glancing around looking for a way out or possibly more people. He pointed to himself, “Siddiq.” He said, a waver in his voice. 

Carl looked down at the bag, still slowly approaching, and handed it out. “Food and water.”

Siddiq looked confused, his eyebrows pushing together. “Why?”

Carl breathed in, stopping. “I guess, you were talking about something your mom said. About helping people?.” Carl paused and licked his lips. “My mom told me that you gotta do what's right. It’s hard to know what that is sometimes, but sometimes it's not.” Carl took a big step, then threw the bag to the man, still allowing a safe distance from him. 

The bag landed two feet from Siddiq. He looked down, up, and then basically crawled to it. Carl could tell what the man was going through, especially being alone out here, and either being too scared to look for food or being weak and unequal to fight for it.

The man quickly got the bottle of water opened, and gulped it, as some of it ran down his hands. He took a breath and put it down. “Thanks.” 

Carl smiled and nodded. “Glad I found you.”

“You went looking for me?” Siddiq asked, standing up, but still keeping distant. 

“Yeah, I scavenged the sardines and other stuff.” He paused once again, thinking over his words. “Me and my dad were in a community. I’m gonna ask you a few questions.” He needs to know if he really wants to bring the man with him. He started to, slowly, walk toward the man. “I need you to answer honestly, okay?” Siddiq gave the nod, and a short “Okay”, before he continued. “How many walkers have you killed?” There was no answer. “I know it's hard to-”

“237.” Siddiq breathed out, interrupting Carl.

Carl's head tilted with a surprised look, a slight grin on his face, “Really?” Siddiq looked at the walker he just killed, and replied. “Give or take a couple.” Carl continued with the questions. “How many people have you killed?” 

Siddiq swallowed. “One.” 

“Why?”

“Dead tried to kill him but… they didn’t.”

Carl nodded, peering at the ground. “You're making walker traps. Is that how you killed so many?” He questioned, gesturing to the trap, where the dead walker lay.

“It's only part of it… My mom thought, or hoped that killing them would free their souls.” Carl understood that. How, at first, people thought the person was still there. That they saw what they were doing, and wished they weren’t. “You know… maybe she was right.”

“Doing that, doesn’t it make things harder for you while you try to survive?” Carl asked, taking a step closer. 

“I, I don’t know, I… you got, you got to honor your parents, right?” Siddiq stated, giving his answer to why he was doing what he did.

“If I was honoring my dad, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” Carl joked, with a smile. “Or…” He thought about a week beforehand. About letting him go. His smile dropped. “I definitely wouldn’t be bringing you back to my community.” Siddiq looked at him in shock.

That's when they started to walk. He allowed Siddiq to grab his things and pack, even though he didn’t have much, and they set off. The night was approaching in only a few hours, and the fog started to set. It made it harder to see where he was going, but he knew the path well enough to get home. If he could get home, it was a known rule not to go out of the walls in fog because you couldn’t tell where a walker would come from.

Still, they walked on, stepping over logs without tripping, and up a hill when they heard the gargling from afar. They crouched down and tiptoed down the hill, stopping at a tree where they could see the walkers ripping apart an animal, blood covering them and the ground. 

“Hey,” Carl looked at Siddiq and took out his knife. “For your mom.” He stood from his spot and they both went towards the small herd, knives in hands. Carl carried his bookbag off of his back and sat in by a tree as they got closer. 

That was when one of the walkers turned and stood, catching the other's attention. They all saw the two and stumbled for the two, teeth and claws ready. Siddiq was able to kill the first one fine until another came right after. It took Carl a bit to kill the first as more started to follow. Carl wasn’t going to back down. He wanted trust, and he was going to earn it. 

Carl went to help Siddiq but was pushed into another walker. The walker was able to push him down onto the animal corpes, getting too close for comfort as he tried to push it away. His eyes widened as another came closer. Carl pushed the first walker off of him, for another to fall on him. The first, crawled to him, grabbing his clothes, the walker had his mouth an inch away. He knew in a second he couldn’t get the walker off on time.

Suddenly, Siddiq was pulling the walker off of him with a knife in the other. This allowed Carl to breathe faster than a car. His heart raced, and his eyes watered, but not to the point of crying. Carl wished a different boy was pulling that thing off of him. His hand clutched his shirt as Siddiq held his hand out.

Carl saw a slight image flash in his mind. It was not the hand of Siddiq, but nonother than Y/n fucking Smith. He wished. Full heartedly wished. The smile, the white teeth, the stupid fucking smirk, and the one closed eye due to the sun. But in the blink of an eye, reality hit again. The scared, blood-covered man in front of him, not his partner.

... A week ago

Bullets rang. He was on his knees one second, the next moving out of the line of fire as the war started, really started. It felt like slow motion. The movements, voices, and bangs around him.

He felt blood dripping from his temple where he slammed his head, making sure not to get shot. It was not going as planned. “Shit,” Y/n muttered, feeling the warmth on the side of his head.

He knew the plan well, and getting out of the shooting line was his priority. He felt the mud push under his fingernails as he crawled on his hands and knees, making sure to keep his backpack safely on. 

Y/n was able to make it to a wall, where the gate was kept. He had a choice, jump over it and dodge the biters on the other side, get in one of the cars without getting shot, or get eaten by the mob of biters Dixion was bringing down the freeway.

“Fuck. Motherfucker.” He cursed, looking at the cars leaving. His thoughts rolled. He had no other choice. He jumped the long gate, hitting the wires at the top, The wires slid down his face and cut through his shirt. “Ahhhh, shit.” He whispered and yelled, stomping his feet. He felt the burn on his face and arm as he secured his bag and ran for the hills.

Y/n had made it a mile into the woods before stopping. The pain wasn’t extreme, but it still hurt like a bitch. The gash on his arm wasn’t too bad, enough for him to get home fine but continued to bleed. “I'll be fine.” He whispered to himself, sighing. He remembered his backpack and grabbed it off his back. The med kit was safely placed in the side pocket. There were no bandages, and he wasn’t going to waste his time on making a line of bandaids. 

He sighed and placed the kit back in the bag. He would just have to hit one of the houses. And the closest safe house was only a mile and a half. “Shit dangerous…dad could come looking for me. They could get out of that mess, they will. That would just put him in danger.” His thoughts were loud as he set off deeper into the woods. 

He had a plan. Lose the tracks. He’d take the longer route just in case someone was able to find him or see him jump the gate. Then he’d make his way back to Alexandria. 

His feet stepped along the roots and dead leaves, making his way through the autumn air. It was getting colder and the only thing he had, was a thin shirt on. The house wasn’t so far, and he would be able to make it. That's how he kept his thoughts, golden.

Y/n whistled as he went, the little toon his mother once sang to him. The toon was light, and calming in opposition to his current situation. The whistling allowed him to slip away from the world, and forget about what happened, or forget the very situation he was in. He could hear his mother singing it. He could feel the sway of the rocking chair and the slight breeze of the porch breeze. Then the smell of rain, the drip drop on the AC unit, once helping him sleep, is now a nightmare to hear. 

Once, Negan, his mother, and he went on a trip to North Carolina, to see a War ship, it rained that day. They stopped nearby and grabbed a bottle that had a ship in it. He remembers sitting on the porch staring at it as it floated in the fake water, and moved with each shake but failed to never sink. His mother would say, “You are that boat, and you will forever be that boat.” Y/n never understood what she meant, he just stared at her, then right back at the ship with a smile. 

Those fond memories of the old world. The smell of his baseball games. The soil he slid onto, the mud that would track his clothes, shoes, and body. The icepacks or frozen peas his mother would gently apply on his bruises after each game as she praised her son for doing a good job, relating him to his father. The proud smile on both his parent's faces, as he hit his first home run, racing for the hills as his name was hollered by Y/n’s teammates. 

Before Y/n knew it, he was in front of the home, with his hand reaching into his back pocket to fetch the key. 

His arm still bled as he entered the house, not troubling himself to care as he made his way to the bathroom down the hall. He flashed on the lights, squinting as he looked up into the mirror, jerking at his reflection. He couldn’t exactly tell whose blood was on him, his, or someone else. However, there was a gash riding from the side of his chin to the start of his cheek. He realized the wound wasn’t too large, but it was the main cause of bleeding. Y/n searched through the medicine cabinet and used a cloth to wrap around his arm before laying out his supplies on the counter. He sat on the toilet, taking a cotton swap and gradually cleaning up the bloodied mess on his arm, wincing every occasional minute. The man skillfully sewed up the wound, the needle and thread gliding effortlessly through the flesh. With the task finished, he then moved on to carefully tending to his injured chin.

He made his way upstairs, not bothering to clean up his mess or the clutter he had made.

As he laid his head down on the pillow, which allowed him to sink in, he felt the weight of the past days lifting off his shoulders. The softness of the pillow provided a comforting embrace, easing the tension in his body as he closed his eyes. He kicked his shoes off, feeling the freedom of letting go of the day's conditions. With each deep breath, he felt himself slipping into a peaceful state of mind, leaving behind the rush and groan of the outside world. It was in this moment of quiet that he found comfort, in his bed, as it began to pass noon and go into the evening.

He felt himself sigh and roll over. His hand slid under his pillow, bringing out the small stack of papers. He moved them around until he found the picture of him and his mother. He ran his thumb over it, the corner of his mouth turning up. That smile reflected her own, the ice cream in her hands melted slightly. 

He could feel the slight ache of his arm, and chin, and the healing stab wound. With that slightly uncomfortable sting, he shifted back onto his back, staring at the roof, the old mold that dried out on the cracks that were engraved into the ceiling. Another thing to fix. 

Y/n moved his fingertips along his torso, making it ticklish in a way. His eyes closed as his other hand wiped down his face, feeling the prick of his forming beard, and entangled into his hair. He needed a shower, not that he could smell himself, even though he was probably used to the smell either way. 

He felt his fingers stop at the crack of his shirt, where his skin poked out from the stretch. He opened his eyes and sighed before moving his hand down, and slowly grabbing himself through his pants. One thing he was taught, don’t let your guard down when alone. He assured himself it was a fine, day, and he could hear outside. He swallowed, covering one side of his face with his hand, and rubbing himself with a groan.

⁶He breathed in, taking his hand to his face and spitting on his palm, then slipped his hand into his pants, and below his boxers as another groan fell from his mouth. His hand wrapped around his dick with a whine. Now, speaking of how he literally just got out on the verge of death, though he really didn’t care, it was a bit weird. He put it off. 

The room was filled with quiet groans and grunts as his palm lifted up, and then back down in a repeating movement. He could imagine Carl doing it, which he did. But he knew Carl was young, inexperienced, and a bit dumb, but who was he to talk?

He closed his eyes, imagining Carls had, a lot softer than his, but still rough in their own way. The nervousness, the hesitation, the slight stutter he had at certain points. It was cute, and hot at the time.

He swallowed a groan and pumped himself faster feeling the whine in the back of his throat. “Mother of fucking mary.” The curse fell from his lips as he gripped himself and groaned, head pushing back into the pillow and his teeth barring a grunt that shoved from his throat. Y/n bit into his tongue before it left his mouth and let another groan into his arm.

He would have melted under Carl's touch then and there. He let a moan slip from his mouth as he hit his peak. Stroking a few more times before letting go, panting breaths “Jesus.” He muttered, under his breath, feeling slightly embarrassed by how long he lasted. “You're a cunt.” He said to himself as he shifted in the bed and made himself comfortable.

He stared up at the ceiling, his finger circling his stomach. “What am I gonna do.” he groaned, finally closing his eyes.

--

@stiveroon

@ritospart

[ex0rin]

Against the grain, kid. Always against the grain.

The Walking Dead S07E08 | Hearts Still Beating

[ficnation]

“Your dad’s an asshole” Part 2 - Carl x Reader

Request: “Carl x son of negan. Where they meet when Negan goes to get supplies for the first time from Alexandria and Negan’s son keeps flirting with Carl and Carl gets flustered and acts like he hates it, because y’know son of NEGAN, but eventually they go on a sort of date and kiss? Just fluff with a lil angst? Whatever works for you xoxo”

requested by @thatcucumberwhore

Word count: 2,2k+

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Male! Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g gore, cursing)

A/n: Your relationship with Carl develops but you still have a long way to go. Also I do plan on writing some kind of an epilogue to this lil series eventually but it’s gonna take a while. Hope you enjoy it!

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The only times you could see Carl was when you snuck out in the middle of the night or when your father wasn’t around. You always met halfway in the woods, not far from the main road that led from the Sanctuary to Alexandria. It wasn’t exactly safe for either of you, but if it was the only way you could see each other, it was a risk you were willing to take.

It was surprising how similar you were despite your different personalities. You’ve both lost your mothers at the start of the apocalypse, and your dads changed drastically because of that. You had to grow up far too quickly, drowning in loneliness with no one your age to talk to. Those things made you fit like two puzzle pieces—meant to be.

The forest hummed around you when you strode off the main road and into the surrounding trees, all but invisible from the outside world. You were careful not to step on any of the fallen twigs, afraid of making too much noise.

The sky above was dark and cloudless, yet you could only see a few streaks of light coming from the stars here and there. The crowns of the trees were far too thick to let anything more shine through them.

This part of the woods was usually peaceful—as peaceful as it could be in a world infested with the undead. But that didn’t mean you could feel safe or let your guard down. Even if there was no visible sign of threat, you had to keep your eyes and ears open.

You sat down under one of the many trees, mindlessly playing with a stray twig. You waited and waited, but time didn’t seem to pass fast enough while you waited for Carl to show up.

The darker the sky got, the more you started to worry.

But the moment you heard the familiar sound of careful footsteps, your eyes roamed around wildly. You couldn’t help the cheerful smile that spread across your face when you recognized the silhouette in front of you.

“Hey…” you greeted him, waving. Carl returned the gesture as he walked over to sit beside you, taking his spot under the tree.

His light brown hair seemed to glow under the dim moonlight, and his eye sparkled with happiness that only your presence could bring out of him. His cheeks were pink from the cold wind, and the thin material of his plaid shirt did nothing to warm him up.

Carl smiled at you and leaned back against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s almost midnight,” he stated, gazing at the starry sky.

It was indeed getting darker and darker every second. Your breath hitched slightly as you watched the clouds move in front of the moon.

“You’re lucky I didn’t wake up Judith when I fell on my ass jumping out of the window.”

You grinned at his joke before looking down at your feet. “Yeah…” you trailed off.

It had been so long since you’d seen one another with the constant war between your communities, yet there you were, alone together at midnight, gazing up at the moon.

It felt so strange and different to be with him like this. It made you feel more alive and more relaxed than you ever had before. No stress or anger could ruin it because you both knew where you stood; no matter the hatred between your people, you agreed you wouldn’t let it influence your friendship.

Carl stared up at the sky, lost in thought, as he watched a shooting star pass by. You looked up, too, following the path of the bright star.

“That’s nothing in comparison to the way you shine,” you stated, a confident smirk already growing on your face.

You knew very well what would follow your words. The blush on Carl’s face was barely visible in the darkness, but the way he nudged your arm with his elbow assured you it was definitely there.

“Shut up,” he chuckled, and for some reason, it was the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah? Or what? You’re gonna kiss me?” The world around you froze the moment those words left your mouth. Damn, you hated yourself for speaking before thinking.

The silence that suddenly fell between the two of you was more than awkward. And you had no idea how to take those words back because you did want him to kiss you. You’ve been thinking for a while now how it would feel to brush your lips against his. Would they feel rough or soft against yours? Would Carl let you tangle your fingers in his soft hair?

You tried not to think about it, to repress those thoughts and keep them far away from your mind. But they always came back when you expected it the least. Even when you were just eating breakfast, the thought of kissing Carl and really being with him randomly popped up in your head.

“I’m sorry, it was just a joke. I shouldn’t have said that.” You chickened out.

Carl didn’t say anything, sitting beside you, deep in thought. You couldn’t read his face or his body language. He didn’t seem tense to you, but as far as you knew, it could just be your brain trying to let you keep some shred of hope.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?” Carl finally looked at you, waking up from his frozen state with a shake of his head.

You gave him a look, clearly not believing his words.

He sighed and shrugged. “I’ve missed you. More than I thought I would.” His voice dropped into a soft whisper. “When you leave I feel like there’s something missing.”

Carl’s eye met yours in the darkness. His words and the way he looked at you made your breath hitch. He must’ve noticed that because seconds after you exhaled, his lips were on yours, leaving a soft peck. When your eyes fluttered in confusion, it was his time to chicken out and pull away.

“Well, shit. Now, I should probably be sorry.”

You grinned at him, your hand landing in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss. Carl chuckled into your lips, responding with just as much confidence. As your lips touched, time stopped, and everything around you faded away; nothing else mattered at that moment except for each other. As your bodies pressed together, the tension you’ve been building up suddenly released in an electrifying rush.

The forest was still and quiet early in the morning before the light even touched the horizon. The riverbank nearby made soft noises, its rushing waters calming in their constant flow. The sun had not yet greeted the world, and the dew that had settled the night before was just beginning to vanish in the early morning’s heat. 

You chased Carl through the clearing, laughing quietly, playing a game of tag while you escorted him halfway home.

The dew from the grass had saturated your jeans, the moisture seeping into the fabric effortlessly. Your pants were almost soaked through from the ankles all the way up to your knees. A small puddle of water even seeped into one of your sneakers, your foot squelching with every step you took.

Despite that, you were fast on your feet, and just when you were about to catch the back of Carl’s shirt in your grasp, the groans of undead filled the air. Their sounds alone turned the peaceful early morning eerie. Their groans seemed to come from all directions, the sound somehow omnipresent, as if it came from within and without, surrounding you. You could feel your hair stand on end as the happiness evaporated from your veins.

Your companion stopped so abruptly in his tracks that you couldn’t stop in time and ran headfirst into him, the impact causing you to release an involuntary grunt. 

“Fuck,” you grumbled, your hand instantly grabbing Carl’s arm in a tight, protective grip.

You looked into the distance to the dirt road leading to Alexandria. A herd of walkers moved forward in the direction of Carl’s community, one of the biggest ones you’ve encountered in your life. Your breath hitched in your throat, your hand shaking. They marched in a line so long you didn’t see the end of it. 

“We gotta get out of here,” you whispered right into his ear, pulling his arm in the opposite direction. You had to get as far as possible from the herd. 

“No, I need to get home,” Carl sneered, stubbornly planting his feet on the ground beneath. He didn’t even give you so much as a glance. 

“Not fucking happening. Let’s go. You’re not coming anywhere near them.” Your voice was firm; it wasn’t a request. 

The young Grimes stood silently for a minute, observing the herd in the distance. He didn’t know what to do; if his dad noticed his disappearance, he’d panic and send people to look for him. He didn’t want them to walk into this death trap, but at the same time, there was no way he’d get through the walkers unnoticed. 

“Carl,” he could hear the slight shift in the tone of your voice. It became stern. You’ve never spoken to him this way before. He knew that he had no choice but to go with you.

Finally, he nodded his head and let you guide him the opposite way. You traveled in silence, on high alert at all times. Your eyes scanned the horizon, and your ears strained to listen for the slightest hint of danger. You couldn’t risk gaining the attention of any of the walkers. If just one noticed you, it’d all be over.

After hours of walking, you reached the gates of a community unknown to Carl. He looked quizzically between you and the tall gates, but you could see the annoyance and suspicion spreading through his face.

“You brought me to the Sanctuary? Right under your father’s nose?” he questioned, fuming. He quickly pulled his hand out of yours and stepped away from your reach. How could you do this to him?

For a moment, you were oblivious to his suspicions and looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t play dumb!” Carl’s voice was booming as he stared you down, fists clenched.

Your eyes jumped from Carl to the community’s gates, then back to your companion again. You quickly understood what he feared. “Well, I’m flattered you think the Sanctuary looks like this.”

Carl seemed disoriented; he blinked fast as the hatred fell from his face. He felt terrible that it took just this to make him doubt you and withdraw his trust. The boy looked down at the dirt beneath his boots.

“I wouldn’t take you there Carl.”

He nodded, reassured by your words, but still didn’t raise his head. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out.”

You walked toward him, your hand gently grasping his chin to make him look at you. You pecked his cheek softly before pulling him towards the gates. “This is the Kingdom. We’ll be safe here and we can rest a little before going home.”

“Are you sure? How do you even know about this place?” he questioned but followed you without any resistance.

“Uhh…” You scratched your neck bashfully. “It’s a long story. I will tell you someday, I promise.”

Upon reaching the gates, the man on watch duty stood up abruptly, revealing the biggest, friendliest smile as he recognized your face. Waving you in, he called to someone else to let you inside. You slipped through the crack in the gates without waiting a second longer.

Carl observed as the unfamiliar man greeted you by name with his arms outstretched and his face full of joy. You rushed up to him, throwing your own arms around his solid frame, a playful fight unfolding between the two of you before you remembered about your companion.

“Jerry, this is Carl.” The man raised his eyebrow, anticipating that you’d add something more to the introduction. So you humored him, “My boyfriend.”

“Didn’t think anyone would like your overconfident ass,” he joked, letting out a deep chuckle as you clutched your chest in the feigned offense. 

“Me? Overconfident?” You snorted, crossing your arms. “Never.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jerry waved you off before changing the topic. “What brings you here so early?” 

“I hoped we could crash here for a few hours. We almost bumped into a herd,” you explained, your happiness faltering at the memory. 

“You’re always welcome here, you know that.” The man patted your shoulder reassuringly. He didn’t need more explanation. 

You smiled, nodding gratefully at him before your hand found Carl’s, and you pulled him down the path deeper into the community. 

“Come on, I know a place.”

You took him to a small clearing on the other side of the community, a makeshift garden nearby. You pulled him onto a comfortable hammock hanging between two apple trees. As the sun rose in the sky, you both basked in its warm glow and dozed off in peaceful slumber.

Even though you both would likely be in trouble once you reached your homes, the temporary escape was more than worth it. Carl’s company was worth all the trouble in the world. There was no place you wouldn’t have gone with him, no distance you wouldn’t have traveled, and no experience that wasn’t worth sharing with him.

Maybe someday, we can just live here.

TAGLIST

@thatcucumberwhore @yttricuz @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @humanmistakes @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff  @khaleesihavilliard @leafy-sprouts @spenceslovcr

[captsharonstark]

"...she's realizing, "of course I want my son back" but how do I feel about turning over this person that I've come to see is maybe not exactly the person I thought he was. He helps her put her family back together and in turn he will suffer for what he's done." - Eli Jorne on Maggie tricking Negan and trading him for Hershel. The Walking Dead: Dead City Season 1, Episode 6.

[remuslupinsdaughter]

New Masterlist

Here’s where you’ll find everything I’ve written 🙂

Marvel

Natasha Romanoff

The winterwidows child

Bucky Barnes

The winterwidows child

Frank castle

Protect her

Part one part two part three part four

Criminal minds

JJ

Miss momma

Will LaMontagne Jr

Miss momma

Derek Morgan

Suspended

Hospital stays and side effects

Aaron Hotchner

All too much

Hiding from school

Sons of anarchy

Protection

Part one part two part three

Happy Lowmann

Harley Lowmann

Part one Part two

Bloody hands

Mayans M.C.

Angel Reyes

Daddy’s girl

Harry Potter

Remus Lupin

Scared me

Nightmares

Under the weather

Not good enough

Dad Remus headcannons

Christmas

Scared of the bad man

Sirius Black

Nightmares

As long as you need

Scared of the bad man

The Walking Dead

Negan

Scraped knees and kisses better

Peaky Blinders

Tommy Shelby

Molly Shelby

Part one Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

[katierosefun]

negan and maggie’s relationship is so. so fuckign fascinating to me. like. like…imagine teaming up with someone (repeatedly) who killed the love of your life and was also either directly or indirectly responsible for the death of your friends. imagine wanting nothing more than wanting to kill this person and feeling bitter and angry because your friends refuse to kill this person. you are so anguished over it that you leave with your son (whose father was murdered by this person), and then you come back, and all your friends seem to begrudgingly trust (or at least coexist) with this awful person. and this person is now trying to help you. he saves your life multiple times and also saves your son, the last living reminder of your murdered love. this person is asking to become the monster so you don’t have to. this person tells you that you need to come back. this person understands that you would kill him, and he might even let you. he lets you do the closest thing to killing him instead—he lets you turn him in, knife to his throat, and you’re leaving him, and your son won’t talk to you, and you come to the sudden realization that perhaps you need to go back for this monster. what the hell kind of dynamic is this

[persephone411]

I am no Therapist but know that a rough threesome with Negan and Jax Teller would fix me

[sweatyrickgrimes]

[snebulae]

carl grime my favorite son

[aerospectrum]

starter for @ofmulti-fandoms

Jaime hated being two things: cold and wet. But survival didn’t take into consideration one’s dislikes and sometimes narrowly escaping walkers or threats from other survivors meant splashing through high water and suffering the consequences of the biting chill of the night that followed.

He tucked himself carefully into the groove of a rocky overhang and peeled his soaking wet jeans off, then his sweatshirt and the soggy remnants of a t-shirt as well and hung them over the branches to give them a better chance of drying by morning.

At the first cracks of sunlight Jamie was still trying to stave off the remnants of sleep while pulling on the mostly damp t-shirt when he heard the unmistakable click of a gun chamber. Pantless, weaponless, and shivering in the sunrise all felt humiliating; he tried not to move too quickly though. “I’m not a walker!” he spoke quickly; eyeing the jeans and sweatshirt that dangled on the branches beside him then slowly he shifted his gaze to the man across from him. “I didn’t know this place was taken already.. I can leave- right now, I won’t.. cause any trouble; my clothes were wet and I was just letting them dry.” he tried to keep his shaky voice level and confident but it was hard not knowing if he was about to be shot dead on the spot or simply shot and left for dead instead. “Please don’t kill me…” he offered the plea through half closed eyes though he didn’t have to shut them; his dark hair hung over his face and did a good enough job of hiding from sight already.

[little-horror-smut]

Sandwich me please

[little-reader]

"The Son of A Monster." Ch. 9 - Season one ending.

Masterlist

Carl grimes x Male!Reader

Warnings; Graphic Gore, Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie Apocalypse.

I had woken to silence and still. My eyes felt burned out as I opened them. I was bruised. I refused to move, but instead looked around the room. Same bed as last time. I must have passed out. I felt fine though, well, okay enough to move my head. Toby was looking over something, a gun in his holster, and glasses hanging on his nose. It was late morning, a few birds chirping off in the distance and the sun shining in the front windows.

My throat was dry and I was dizzy. I looked over to the nightstand, where water sat again. I blink a few times, before reaching over slowly. I could see my hands shaking, sweaty, as I grabbed the glass. I felt the weight of the water as it slipped from my grasp.

I felt my shoulders jump when the glass landed on the floor and shattered into several pieces. My eyes closed tightly as I heard Toby mutter an “aw, shit” and move away from his chair. I could hear the wheels on the chair scratch against the wood as he pushed it in and moved around the room. 

I wanted to know if someone else came into the room. My eyes were being blinded by the lights in the room. They would strain too hard to see anything if I tried to open them.

I felt glass press to my arid lips and a hand pushing back my long hair, that I have yet to cut since it's been growing out these past few months. The voice was muffled. Like it was underwater. I grunted and shifted my head away, cracking my eyes open and trying to focus on the person in front of me. My ears started to clear out and I could see the faint outline of the person in front of me. 

Eric something. That curly man's husband. Aaron. I know Iris loved to have meetings with the two. She said they were both great to talk to, helping and kind. Iris. I forgot about Iris, I haven’t seen her since I left. How long was I out? 

I muttered nonsense and looked around slightly, checking for more people. Only him and Toby. Toby was cleaning the glass and water off of the floor. “Kid is out of it,” Toby said, looking down at me. “Can’t hold anything, probably can’t move much right now.” He dumped the glass in the trashcan. 

“He needs water,” Eric said, placing the cup back on the side table. He sighed and started to work on the bandage. “He should be fine, his infection has left in the past few days.” He stated. “It makes it even better he doesn’t smell like puss, and that he’s finally conusious.”

Toby nodded. “Barely.” 

I let my eyes close again as they continued in silence. Then, there was a sudden sting that honestly brought me to life. I grabbed the man's arm and yelled, more out of shock, as he cleaned up the wound. I tried to move away, but surprisingly, he was able to keep me in place. I grimaced, “Stop. That… fucking hurts.” 

“And he’s talking, even better.” A known voice, one that I haven’t heard until now. Iris came behind the curtain, holding her stomach. I sensed sarcasm in her voice when her tired eyes gazed at me. The bandage was changed in a second before Eric moved back. 

I kept eye contact from where I lay. Eric patted her shoulder before he left the office, toby leaving, giving us space. I already knew what was coming, something I wasn’t in the mood for, but it was better for me to if it happened now.

“You… okay?” I said, slowly debating my words. She took that as an invitation and came closer. 

She pushed back my hair and sat on the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes and relaxed slightly.  “You need a haircut.” She whispered, one hand playing with my hair and the other tracing my jaw. I felt her nails scratch slightly on my skiing. “And a shave.” I shook my head and held her hand. 

“Like it long,” I said, rubbing her hand with my thumb. “You shouldn’t be back here,” I stated, my eyes searching hers. She shook her head. “He’ll come back. Harder than ever.” I stated. She only nodded and kissed my cheek. 

“You’ve been out for two weeks.” She stated, resting her head on mine. I sighed. A whole week, plus the days I missed before I passed out. “Ricks got a plan. A good one. But this will cause death, and a blown-out war.” She said, grabbing my chin and pointing at her. “Soon, nowhere will be safe. You need to recover, now. If you don’t, you’ll die.” It was bland, the way she said it. Ominous. Her tone scared me slightly as I held her wrist in my hand. I could feel the pulse under her thin skin.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and she hummed. “I… don’t want that relationship with you, Iris. I can’t. I really can’t.”

“Shut up.” She said, kissing my forehead, She then dug through her pocket, and grabbed one of my hands, before placing something in it. I peered down and smiled. “I saw it on one of our dead ones. I didn’t tell anyone who it was.” She said, handing me the knife and I smiled. I traced my fingers over the carvings and held the switchblade to my chest. 

“Thank you.” 

-

I sat in that bed for four days since I awoke when I decided I was truly ready to leave it. I had gotten changed and then left for the Grimes. No one was home, but I later found out what their plan was. It involved me. Rick and the groups have been working hard. They have a whole huge plan, though Iris said she was not allowed to speak any further in the matter, and I should get rest while I can. I wasn’t quite sure if I had a choice in the whole matter, but I guessed I would be forced into it.

-

“He’s probably dead by now,” Simion said, staring at Negan from his stance at the door. Negan sat there thinking, “formulating” a plan. At least, that's what he was trying to do. His mind had been all over the place. “Kid’s got a mouth on him. Plus… I know you don’t want to hear it, but that shootout and the wound he had the last we saw him. He wasn’t doing so hot.” He stated, pushing himself off the wall and making his way over to Negan. “They must have killed him.”

Negan slammed his fist onto the table. “Shut the hell up, Simon. You don’t get to tell me whether my kid is dead or not.” He said, rubbing his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything else. 

-

I was reading through one of Carl's Marvel comics. I wasn’t allowed out of the room until tomorrow, meaning, the plan was more likely in the next two days. I still wasn’t sure what they were planning to do, but it had to be a strong plan to take down multiple armed stations. I know a few that are harder than the others. Station three, the one I ran, was the easiest. This one had a baby, but it was away from most mobs or civilization and safely guarded but not as armed. 

Though, knowing the crowd, they would keep the baby alive and well. 

The door creaked open. I kept my eyes on the comic in front of me, as the steps paused. 

“Your… awake?” Carl asked, wide-eyed and confused. I nodded and hummed. “That's… you should be sleeping.” He stated, placing something down in the room before snatching away the comic and placing it down neatly in his stack. 

“I was reading that,” I said, leaning up by my elbows. My eyebrows furrowed as he cleaned up his desk, ignoring me. “Hey…” I softened my tone slightly, throwing my feet over the bed and fully sitting up. He was shuffling his desk around, I didn’t quite understand why he was doing it now. I watched, silently, as he finished up and sat down, with a box in hand. 

“You left these here.” He threw the box to me, I caught it and examined it. My cigarettes are barely used, only two missing. “I meant to give them to you when you first woke up, but…”

I paused and peered up at the boy. “... yeah…” I placed them down softly on my pillow. “Thank you.” It was a simple gesture from him, but I was thankful. I watched his eyes droop, though I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. No, that's a lie. The way his eyebrows were furrowed, the twitch of his nose, and the crinkle of his cheeks. “You're upset?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.

“Stupid plan my dad has.” He stated. It only made me more curious. “He wanted me to talk to you about it.” I sat up straight on the bed, feeling a slight jolt in my abdomen. “You okay?” He asked, turning towards me slightly. I only nodded and grunted for him to continue. He messed with his hands nervously.

I patted the bed. “I can wait,” I stated, scooting closer to the wall, leaving room for him. He looked at me like I was stupid, thought I was grinning at him stupidly, and got up to cross over the room and join me. 

We end up on the bed together, my arm wrapped around his shoulder and his head barely resting near my chest. Anxiety. He was anxious, I could tell by the small twitch and fidget of his connected fingers. His breathing was slow but I could feel his heartbeat fasten slightly. 

I reached over and untangled his fingers before wrapping them with my own. I feel his sigh and shift. He lifted my hand and moved beside me, keeping our hands interlocked. I stared at his side profile for a bit, allowing him to take a moment where he could be calm. Plus, I just like looking at his freckles.

“It can't be that bad.” I slightly whispered after a while. He shook his head and huffed before looking at me.

“Dad has been collecting fuel and cars since Negan left. He built metal walls on them so he could line them up. We had some before this, we had to move walkers away from an area before they got out and destroyed Alexandria. The metal plates are strong enough to reject bullets. He plans on taking those cars to your dad, telling him to give up. If he doesn't, he sends a signal to Daryl, and Daryl starts leading a whole army of walkers to your dad's sanction.” Carl explained in detail, trying not to leave anything out. I nodded through the whole thing. Damn Nut, Rick is. He’s smart but ruthless and risky. 

I paused, he still didn't tell me what I had to do. “My part?”

“The fucking bait.”

I hummed, moving away from him slightly. The bait, Rick was smart. Though, unfortunately, that wouldn’t work. He was too stubborn for that. He’ll try to destroy everything before Rick can get to him, even if he fails. Or maybe it will make him back down. He’s protected me for years, but maybe it’s time for me to leave the nest, and fly. Fall first, then pick myself up, slowly. I’m already in that stage. Getting left behind. I didn’t realize that. I was left-

A hand slowly brought me back from my own thoughts. Carl looked at me sadly, his hand barely laid on my shoulder. 

“You won't be there?” It came out like a whisper. He let out and small breath and shook his head. I felt myself do the same. “It won't work.”

“Think we all know that,” Carl said, in a very light tone. I patted his hand lightly and left it there. “I could sneak in-” “No.” I interrupted him. “But-”

“If your dad said no, then it's dangerous. I'm more experienced than you. I'll be fine, Carl.” I stated, turning to look at him. I think he realized I was serious because he glared at me.

“You could get hurt.”

“So could you.” We both, we're getting pissed. Though, I wasn't letting down. I wasn't going to let him walk into a battlefield with no shield. That would give an opportunity for Negan to have a hostage, Rick to get distracted… or Carl on the ground bleeding out. “I can handle myself, I've been through this a thousand times. Carl… I'd rather me get hurt than you.” My voice turned into a whisper, my face rested and eyes softened. His eyes didn't soften a bit as they stared into mine. His eyebrows twitched from the strain and he swallowed slightly.

“I don't want….” He picked his lips. “I don't want you to die.” It was simple. I smile a bit and let out a chuckle. “It's stupid-” he paused and glared harder at my slight laugh. “-and you're stupid.” He shoved my shoulder and tried to move away from me. I laughed a little harder and pulled him over, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. He crossed his arms as I connected his back to my chest. “We don’t have to fight. We can fix it, agree, and be in peace. My dad doesn't have to kill yours, no one has to die.” He ranted on. It was purely background noise for me. I've heard this from others. Peace. They weren't wrong, but they were Human. Brutal, Foolish, and disgusting creatures who ruin each other without truly realizing it. Human instinct. I won't tell him that because I know he knows that. 

I remember what my mother used to talk about. Humans were disappointing, and destroying the beauty and life of the world, taking everything from the soil and drying it up. 

I watch as Carl breathes, frustrated. I rest my head on his shoulder, slowly. Relationships are weird too. Not a bad weird. It's confusing, the beginning of a relationship, I ask myself what I can do and what can't. I test the waters.

Carl sighs and leans closer to my body. “You sure you're gonna be okay?”

I thought for a moment. I've been through war and fights with other groups we've encountered. All messy, leaving dead and injured. People were a resource, but medical supplies were rare. 

I dug through my pocket, taking Carl's hand and placing the switchblade in it. “Promise,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.  Carl ran his fingers over the cover and metal. 

“H? You pick this off of someone.” He asked, looking at the engraving. I stared at the knife. Flashes of the fire, hue.

“Something like that… it's important to me.” 

-

Rick came to see me in the morning. He was calm, asking if Carl explained. I agreed to do whatever, however dangerous. It wasn't for him though, Carl and Iris, and the twins. Those were my main focus.

“You know this won't work, right?” I asked him before he left. Rick paused and turned slightly on his face. He opened his mouth and closed it. “Maybe… you'll kill him…” I could see a slight grimace in his face when I said that, though I continued. “But not today, not tomorrow. He'll kill your people like there's no tomorrow, destroy you, and finally, leave you with dead family before you kill him.” 

I lifted myself from the living room couch, my bag sat beside me, extra clothes, food, medical kit, two cans of food, gun and ammo, and a knife. Rick said just in case something went wrong, everyone would need one. Cigarettes in another pocket with a lighter.

Rick nodded, he didn't know how to reply to that, considering Negan was my dad. What was he supposed to say? “I'll kill your dad”?…sounded bad. 

The next second, I was told we were leaving soon. I was heading upstairs.

“We’re leaving soon, about 20 minutes,” I said to Carl, who was on my bed looking at the knife, his hat laid beside him. He didn't give a straight reply, only a short “hm” and he dragged the knife tip over the bedside table. I stared for a second, before dropping my bookbag gently and kneeling. “I'll be fine,” I whispered, tucking his hair out of his face. His face was stone cold, with little emotion but pissed. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispered. I gave a slight sigh and shook my head. “You came into my life and became a best friend and… what if you don’t come back?”  My face saddened with a frown as I lifted myself halfway. My hand reached through his hair as I gave him a light kiss. He hummed, pushing back slightly. I hummed and pulled back, staring into his eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was love, or the thought of me not coming back that made me push for more. His lips were soft, dry, but soft. I had my hand under his bandage that wrapped around his head as I pushed up, both of us laying on the bed. I went easy, remembering he wasn’t as experienced as I was. He was also younger. 

I moved my head to the side, allowing me to get more room. We barely separated with each kiss, spit smearing over our chins and going to his cheek. One arm under him, the other holding his hip. His shirt slid up slightly, allowing the little touch of his skin to press on my thumb. I cherished this, keeping it close, keeping him closer. His hands, one in my hair, the other wrapped around my neck, moving slightly, he wasn’t sure where to place them or what to even do. 

I allowed myself to pull back. His eyes, were full of lust, eyes I’ve seen before. I probably had the same. I felt my tongue run on the bottom of my lip. The spit trail from my lips to his fell and broke apart. I reach up and grab his hand, wrapping my fingers into his, and connecting them. I pressed my forehead against his. “I gotta go, Woody.”

I loved him. My heart beat into his, making a tune and forming a song altogether. Funny, how it all began. The King and Monster fight, while the prince falls for… well, the son of a monster.

--

Season one ending. Season 2 chapter 1 - Woody

[ficnation]

“Your dad's an asshole” Part 1 - Carl x Reader

Request: “Carl x son of negan. Where they meet when Negan goes to get supplies for the first time from Alexandria and Negan’s son keeps flirting with Carl and Carl gets flustered and acts like he hates it, because y’know son of NEGAN, but eventually they go on a sort of date and kiss? Just fluff with a lil angst? Whatever works for you xoxo”

requested by @thatcucumberwhore

Word count: 2918

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Male! Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g gore, cursing)

A/n: It's a little bit different than the request, but I still hope you'll enjoy it :D There'll also be a second part to this which will focus more on the romantic aspect of Negan's son and Carl's relationship!

☁ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁ || ☁ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁

“Well, hello there,” the greeting that left your father’s lips was anything but friendly. The mere idea of it not being hostile to the people who killed so many of your men blew your mind.

You decided to keep your mouth shut when a glare of a blue-eyed man on the other side of the fence almost outmatched yours in its viciousness. You hopped out of the vehicle, yawning and murmuring something about having enough traveling for the next few weeks. There was nothing you hated more than sitting for hours in a metal can with nothing to do.

“Do not make me have to ask,” your dad said when no one moved to open the gate for him and your people. He shoved his hand deep into his leather jacket’s pocket and tapped his foot on the ground to hurry them up.

The blue-eyed man hesitated for a moment before sliding the gate open, but not without some resistance. “You said a week. You’re early.”

“How about you file a complaint, huh?” the words escaped you before you could catch them, gathering everyone’s attention.

A few of the Saviors whistled in amusement and appreciation. You quickly pulled the hood of your sweatshirt over your head with an unpleased groan and turned your head to the side, suddenly finding the trees on your left very interesting.

You didn’t get a kick out of people’s attention on you as your dad did. It was just one of the many differences between you and him. There were things you were confident in, but speaking up in front of a large group of people or getting applause for something you did just wasn’t it.

Luckily for you, the citizens of Alexandria didn’t dwell long on your words, and their fearful eyes quickly returned to your father. His smug grin already told you that he was proud of you for speaking up. You were his blood, after all.

When the distinctive growling sounded closer and closer, you could almost see the light bulb lighting up above your father’s head.

“Oh, Rick, come on out here.” He licked his lips in anticipation as he raised Lucille above his head and whistled. “Watch this.”

“I’m not a damn dog,” you mumbled under your breath, but obediently grabbed the bat out of your father’s hands, annoyance clearly visible on your face and in your voice.

The undead man stalked towards you with outstretched hands, excited to get a bite of fresh meat. You raised the bat over your head before swinging at the creature with an annoyed groan. The weapon hit it straight in the middle of its head. The barbed wire and force of the strike made a whole bloody mess of its brain. The blood and all the muck splattered over your clothes and the nearby car.

Negan burst into a deep chuckle at the sight. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy! My kid is doing some charity work for you here, Rick. You better remember that,” he said, winking at the man standing by the gate.

You rolled your eyes, handing the bat back to him and wiping the stray red drops off your cheek. Negan proceeded to give a cheeky little speech to the people from Alexandria, throwing a few threats their way and bowing at the end, almost as if he was waiting for applause.

He gave Lucille to Rick with a sly glint in his eyes before he stepped inside ASZ. He knew exactly what effect his actions had on that man. Rick Grimes was furious and afraid, but not for himself, for something far more important to him.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you have in the cupboard.” Negan gestured for you to keep close while he walked further into the town.

“We put aside half of the supplies.”

“No, Rick. No,” your father butted in. He stepped closer to the man threateningly. “You don’t decide what we take. I do. Tell him, boy! Tell him how things here work.” Negan turned towards you with a proud grin.

Of course, he wanted to include you in his weird power plays. He was throwing your existence right in their faces for reasons unknown to you. You thought it’d be safer for you if they didn’t know about you being their enemy’s son, but your father had different plans, like always. It was a shame he didn’t at least give you a heads-up before playing them out.

“It’s always been like that. He’s the boss, he decides what’s his,” you spoke up, shrugging your shoulders. You weren’t going to give them more than that; you weren’t your father.

After that, Arat yelled out for your group to get a move on, and they dispersed, immediately getting themselves busy searching through the houses.

Your father weaved you off to go and explore, maybe help out his men if you were feeling petty. But you knew the rules—the crueler you were, the more things you took, the more Negan’s approval you got. It wasn’t your thing, so you just planned to walk around and check out some of the places there. You were particularly curious about what weapons and how many of them did they have, but you also did not want to participate in the scavenger hunt, so you decided to just let it be.

After not even an hour, you knew you’d seen every interesting place in Alexandria, so you followed one of the random Saviors group searching through the houses. You didn’t take anything from the buildings, just walked around, curiosity peeked by the big suburban homes. The place was nothing like the industrial Sanctuary. It was beautiful and cozy, with the light colors of the furniture brightening the rooms. You could’ve lived in a place like that.

While you were checking out the upstairs of the house, you heard a commotion and an unfamiliar voice downstairs. Without a second thought, you ran down the stairs to find your people being held at gunpoint by a long-haired boy around your age. You looked at him in awe. He looked badass with his bandaged eye and the steady grip on the weapon. He also looked like someone you could get on with. Damn, it was a shame that your groups were on some kind of warpath.

The teenager popped the safety off. “Put some back or the next one goes in you,” he threatened.

“What do you think happens next?” one of the Saviors asked, looking at the boy in amusement while you took that as a sign to pull out your own gun.

“You die,” he replied with so much confidence it was surprising.

“No, you die.” You pointed your gun at his temple, cocking your head, very entertained by the situation. You weren’t sure if the kid had the balls to actually kill your guys over the medicine, but you were curious to find out.

The brown-haired boy slowly turned his head toward you at the sound of the safety clicking. He stared you off with that pretty blue eye of his. For a second, you wondered if he wasn’t this settlement leader’s kid. If that turned out to be the truth, then the chance of you becoming friends dropped to zero.

“That’s a standoff I didn’t expect.” Your father’s whistling cut through the tension in the room.

You turned your head to look at him and Rick, that stood at the entrance of the room. The leader of Alexandria walked over to the two of you, glancing between you and the other boy. It was easy to put the puzzles together. The one-eyed boy was his son. It was an accurate guess, seeing the fear and uncertainty in the man’s blue eyes.

Rick called his son’s name, reaching for the gun in the boy’s hand. “Carl put it down,” he warned him, looking yet again at the barrel of your weapon.

“No. He’s taking all of our medicine. They said only half our stuff,” he protested, raising his voice. His hand holding the gun started shaking slightly, and your eyes quickly caught that sight. Maybe he wasn’t as brave and badass as you thought, or maybe your father traumatized him so much that his presence scared the boy.

“Really, kid?” Your father stepped in front of Carl in amusement. The whole situation was probably pretty entertaining to him.

“And you should go,” the boy continued looking Negan right in the eye. “Before you find out how dangerous we all are.”

You snorted amused. Shit, you knew that with this sentence, the boy just fucked up. If Negan wasn’t pissed before, he definitely was now. You let out an exasperated sigh, tucking your gun behind your belt. You stopped listening to the conversation between them, your eyes glued to the blue-eyed boy.

You didn’t even pay attention when your father stopped talking for a moment before he commanded Dave and the other Savior to take away all of Alexandria’s weapons.

Your heart started beating faster when you took a closer look at Carl, who scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance. The whole time you were there, he gave you maybe a glance or two, desperately trying to show you that you were the intruder here.

You noticed your father staring at you with narrowed eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, challengingly at you. His gaze went back and forth between you and the boy. When you finally met his eyes, he sighed loudly and shook his head disapprovingly. You rolled your eyes and scoffed lightly, turning around and walking away without sparing Carl another glance.

Your steps sounded too loud in the silent house, making you feel uneasy and a bit ashamed because of getting caught staring like a lovesick puppy at someone who was supposed to be your enemy. And damn, how did he manage to make such an impression on you? Why did you want to talk to him so much?

You sat by the little lake in the town, tangling your fingers in the cold grass and waiting for somebody to call you over and say you were leaving. You felt bored and out of place. You thought you would get out of the sunshine and rainbows town quicker. But it took a lot longer than you initially thought.

There weren’t many Alexandrians around the area, so you could let your guard down for a bit. The humidity from the water was refreshing, and you caught yourself breathing in deeply. If you could, you’d bring that lake back to the Sanctuary. It reminded you of your childhood and the days when your mom took you to swimming classes. However, the water there stank strongly of chlorine, so the air wasn’t as nice as this was.

When someone finally passed by you. It was Carl fucking Grimes. He walked right past you like you weren’t there, but you didn’t take it personally. He had no obligation to keep you entertained, and you knew that. You also knew that he probably didn’t want to have anything to do with you, but something drew you to him.

You waited until no one was looking before following him. If he noticed you behind him, he showed no sign of it for most of this short walk. His steps were long and rushed, and it should’ve been a red flag to you, but you decided to ignore it.

At one point, Carl stopped walking and looked around, searching for something. You noticed he was pretending. He did that to make sure you were still following him. And when he noticed you did, he scoffed under his nose. He kept walking, pretending like you weren’t there.

You noticed you were getting close to the edge of the town. There was no one in sight anywhere around you. Carl must’ve seen that, too, because he stopped and sighed, turning around slowly to face you. His expression had turned into a frown, and his eye had grown cold and angry.

“What do you want? Why did you stare at me, and why did you follow me here?” he spat the words at you, glaring daggers at you as if he wanted you to fall dead before his feet. He stepped closer to you, invading every inch of your space, forcing himself between you and the town. You took a step back, your back hitting the cold wall of the house behind you.

“No reason,” you muttered, trying to act nonchalant about it all. “Just wondered where you were going.” You tried to sound natural, which was hard, considering you were freaking out about being in such close proximity to him.

Carl stepped closer toward you, knowing you had nowhere to back away now. He glared at you again, and you flinched. “Yeah, right.” He scoffed once more. “Why does it matter?”

Your mind blanked at this sudden question, and you struggled to find an answer. “Well...” You glanced down at the ground nervously. “I haven’t seen anyone my age for so fucking long. I just thought we could talk for a while.” Your voice faltered at the end, your heart pounding against your chest. You swallowed thickly. You didn’t know what else to say.

“About?” he raised his eyebrow, waiting expectantly. You shrugged awkwardly.

“Whatever you want to talk about.” You tried to keep your tone light, hoping it would calm him down somehow. This was getting awkward and embarrassing fast. You weren’t used to people staring at you like they could read your soul with their piercing gaze.

“You’re pretty badass,” you blurted out nervously. You mentally slapped yourself for talking without thinking twice. Carl raised an eyebrow yet again, seeming unimpressed by your answer.

He stared at you, looking even more annoyed now than before. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh. “Whatever. Just leave me alone, okay? You’re not welcome here.” With that, he turned on his heels and started walking away.

“Wait!” You shouted before you could think. He stopped and glared at you once again, this time with more malice than before. He looked ready to punch you. You gulped down some nervousness and continued speaking, trying to sound casual. “Look, I’m sorry I came after you. Like I said, I just wanted to talk.” You smiled sheepishly. “Can’t hurt to try, can it?”

Carl crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against the brick wall beside you and studied you; his forehead furrowed in concentration.

For a while, neither of you said anything. You stood still, staring at each other intensely, waiting for the other to speak first. It felt like hours had passed before Carl finally broke the silence.

“Your dad is an asshole.”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded. “Yeah, he really is,” you admitted.

“A total douchebag,” he continued, but a hint of sympathy was hidden underneath the harsh words. You gazed at him in contemplation, but he wasn’t paying any attention to you. Instead, he stared up at the sky quietly. He seemed lost in thought.

“He wants me to be just like him.” You shook your head and chuckled bitterly.

“That sounds like the sort of thing a douchebag would do.”

The corner of his lips twitched, and you almost didn’t catch it. Almost. Your heartbeat sped up in excitement, and you grinned. You liked seeing him crack a small smile, even though it was barely there. It made you feel warm inside and helped you forget how Carl’s eye flashed dangerously at you just a few minutes before.

“You have a pretty smile,” you blurted out, surprising even yourself.

The boy looked at you quizzically for a minute as if wondering what the hell had possessed you to say something so stupid. But then the corners of his mouth curved upwards into a shy grin, and that was all the answer you needed. You felt giddy and lightheaded. Maybe because of the fact that he was still smiling at you or perhaps the fact that he hadn’t yelled at you yet. Either way, you were grinning foolishly at the boy you considered an enemy just minutes ago.

You watched him as he studied the clouds. He was handsome, and the way his long brown hair framed his face made him look almost angelic. His blue eye shined in the sunlight, but there was something more: it hid loneliness behind its surface. It made you wonder if he felt just as lonely in this world as you did. Then again, you didn’t know enough about him to be sure if that was true. So instead, you focused on the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Do you think this could work?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Carl turned to you, eyebrow raised in question. “Well, I mean, if we became friends… Would it work?”

He frowned, considering your question carefully. “I’m not really sure.” He hesitated, “Maybe.”

You sighed, defeated. “Me neither. But it’s worth a shot, right?”

It took him a few moments before he finally agreed with you. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s worth a shot.”

You smiled widely at him, and he returned the gesture with one of his rare smiles. It sent an electric jolt through your body. You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the butterflies that swarmed your stomach.

@thatcucumberwhore @yttricuz @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @humanmistakes @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff

[band--psycho]

New Challenge 2023

I hope everyone is doing well! 💛

I'm very excited to announce that I will be hosting a new writing challenge; it's an idea I've had for a while and I'm super excited to share it with you.

The challenge is, a writing challenge based off of moodbaords sent to me!

In this challenge you will send in moodboards to me and if you wish a small summary of what you want the story to be about and the genre of it.

I know moodboards can take quite a bit of time to create so I will be extremely grateful to anyone who wishes to take part!

I will be posting at least one story based off of a moodboard every Monday (not including tomorrow 8th May) so that I can have time to write them and without being overwhelmed.

If you're interested in taking part, just have a quick look at the rules and character list below:

Rules:

Each moodboard must consist of at least seven pictures.

These pictures should include the character you want to be involved in the story along with their relationship with the oc (reader), the quotes that you want used in the story and of the scene you want me to write about.

If you want to provide any specifics-e.g a small summary of what you want the story to be about, then please include this in your ask.

You can send in as many moodboards as you like, there is no limit at present.

Here are some examples from stories I'm currently working on:

Characters:

Jax Teller

Chibs Telford

Harvey Specter

Natasha Romanoff

Loki Laueyson

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Sirius Black (Marauders or HP era)

Remus Lupin (Marauder or HP era)

James Potter

Vander

Klaus Mikaelson

Negan

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Steve Harrington

Thorin Oakenshield

If there is a specific character that you want to create a moodboard for that is not on this list but is apart of a fandom on my masterlist, then just send me a message!

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @withmyteeth @little-diable @rebelwrites @yn-ymn-yln @munsinner @lady-writes-flanagan @deathbecomesnerds @wild-rose-35 @malfoys-demigod @barbersjoy @conretewings @chibsytelford @beeroses @xbreezymeadowsx @rayslittlekitten @girl-next-door-writes @darthwheezely @book-dragon03 @gwen-ever @elvish-sky @may85 @thaliastregona @impala1967dwinchester @theonewithallthemilkshakes @rl92 @backstagewiththemadness

If you are tagged and don't want to take part that's absolutely fine! There is no pressure at all!

Thank you all for the support 💛

[reallygreatblogname222]

Short comedy sketch

While Negan is locked up, Carl often visits him to chat. When Rick finds out, he's livid and forbids Carl from going anywhere near Negan's cell.

Now friendless, Negan starts to lose it a bit. The coconut he'd been given as his only means of sustenance for a few days looks sort of like a face.

Over the next few minutes, it starts to look more and more like a face - a familiar face, one he adores - when he wraps a spare bandage around it and sticks a googly eye onto the other side.

That unused mop head they store in his cell makes a great hairpiece. He rips a page from his book and fashions a sailor's hat, then places it on the top of the coconut.

"Nearly there..." Negan sticks his tongue out in concentration while he wields his singular writing implement (a semi-dry Sharpie) and starts to draw a smile. Midway through, he stops and frowns, then adjusts so the mouth is scowling; he wants it to be realistic, after all.

Stepping back to admire his masterpiece, Negan raises his eyebrows in approval.

"Oh, hey Carl. Fancy seein' you here." He says casually to his new coconut friend.

Above ground, Carl eventually bribes Gabe into letting him visit Negan. It's been weeks and he's eager to see his man again. He stealthily hops down the stone steps, adjusting his hat with nervous excitement. He takes that final step around the corner and-

...Negan is making out with a coconut.

[katierosefun]

yeah i'm rewatching dead city again.