#had to crawl under barbed wire to get away from them one time but eh

[jeena-says-hi]

Is it just me who thinks it’s hilarious that one of the worst things to happen in The Magnus Archives happened when Englishmen came to Scotland

[hellsangelsheavensrejects]

Present Day: Recompense Come

Wynonna

Someone in the universe had a mighty big sense of humor with a little hardon of cruelty dashed in. At least that's what it felt like when Wynonna saw him, John Constantine, coming towards the part of the bar she'd parked herself at. He hadn't seen her yet. If she worked it just right she could get away with him none the wiser.

John

Somewhere between leaving the US and the moment he's made his way towards that bar, John Constantine had broken a curse and reacquired the demonic taint he'd deliberately locked away years prior. By sleeping with his friendly neighbourhood succubus Ellie, to regain enough power to ... well, to make sure he'd be strong enough to deal with Mormo the next time she came around.

He'd also gotten in the way when Father Gregor had tried to throw Holy Water (the real deal, it turned out) at the demon they had spent their afternoon fighting and hit John across the arm and jaw, searing his skin.

John would later think that he should be forgiven for not recognizing the familiar curves, the leather jacket, the razor sharp jaw ... the curls that were now just a little longer, when he slid into a chair and gestured for a drink. You know. Given the fact that not two hours earlier, his skin had nearly boiled off.

Wynonna

Her eyes stayed on him as he made his way to a chair. The whole of him looked rough. And not in the usual way that made her want to take his tie and-- Nope. Not going there. But he does look hurt. What happened? The question bounced around in her mind as gave Peacemaker a pat.

She would have made it. If she hadn't zigged when one of the women carrying drinks to tables hadn't zagged and gotten so off balance that she fell backwards. Right towards him. Like she'd thought: Someone had a sense of humour. It just wasn't her.

John

A crash and a clatter drew his attention and his new, quicker reflexes had him reaching out both for whatever large thing he could see falling towards him from the corner of his eyes and magic.

His hand clamped on an arm dressed in soft, wellworn leather and when John pulled up the young woman he had just rescued from a nasty fall with a smirk and a "Careful, luv.", it took him a moment to recognize the eyes staring up him.

Blazing angrily.

When he did recognize them, the narrow, angular face, the defined lips ... his heart tumbled out of his chest, crashed into his stomach and made him feel sick.

"Wynonna...", he muttered and let go of her as if burned. As if touching her caused him pain.

Wynonna

"Oh you remember me?" The remark left her before she could truly think about it. When it caught up with her, she cursed under her breath and looked down for a moment. While it had come out like a dig, she hadn't meant it as such.

Some of her softness left, edged out by quickly returning anger when he released her with the swiftness of someone who had just grabbed something that was white hot. It stung at her, digging deeper into that already there hurt.

(Really she wouldn't be surprised if her heart looked like swiss cheese by now.)

Wy rolled her shoulders back and stood tall, gaze daring him to say something. Anything.

John

John huffed, face twisting into a painful smile. "Clever.", he replied. "Yeah, real clever ...", he swallowed the endearment that wanted to jump from his tongue.

His eyes skittered away from her out of their own volition, scanning the room with a painful sinking feeling.

"He here, too?"

Wynonna

"Didn't mean it like that but if the trench coat fits..." She watched John look for Harry, even then. Wynonna scoffed softly and shook her head. "No. He's not here. I don't know where he is, actually. But my guess is that he wouldn't want to see you even if he was. You have to know that."

John

"Yeah ...", John agreed, voice quiet and toneless as he looked away from her, finding the drink the bartender set in front of him somewhere in the few seconds he'd been dreading (hoping, don't fucking kid yourself, Con Job) to see Harry. "I know tha'.", his lip curled into a sneer. Disgusted with himself. "Don' worry, he won' have t' see me ever again."

Wynonna

Her eyes lingered on him and it took more effort than she'd ever admit to keep from reaching for him. When everything with the three of them had imploded no one had escaped the shrapnel from it. The fallout was still raining down and everything. Still. Hurt. One shoulder rose up in a quick shrug.

"Even if he does you could always just mojo it away no problem." Wynonna pursed her lips before reaching past him and taking his drink for herself. Because why not? Alcohol certainly won't make the pain worse.  "Did you love him?" She asked after drinking down about half the glass.

John

A part of him wished he had the energy left to get angry at her for the accusation. The selfish, self preserving part of him. The rest, however? All the parts that were tender and raw still, they nodded.

"Yeah.", he agreed, loathing and sarcasm dripping of the word and twisting his face into a grimace.

And then, suddenly, she was in his space and the warm scent of coconut wrapped around him, made his fingers twitch with how much he wanted to reach out. Pull her close and into all the cracks of him that losing her along with Harry had left.

Something stopped him. A burn just under his skin, starting where her hip nearly touched his and he looked down. Right there, in its holster, sat Peacemaker. Sigils flaring to life along its barrel. She hadn't seemed to have noticed it. Not yet. Too preoccupied with her anger, maybe.

But he had no time to contemplate that. Not when Wynonna asked that simple little question that hit him in the chest like a bullet from her gun.

It drove hot tears to his eyes and wrenched a painful sob from him. Again, he looked away from her, tried to ignore the nausea that was building slowly. "Wha'ssit ma'er now?", he asked around his tight throat. "I cocked i' up, nothin' to say to make da' right. No' when I knew wha' Justin did to him an' did i' anyway, cause I couldn' ge' over me bloody ego.", now he'd started, the words didn't want to stop. "I thought I was so fuckin' smart. So much fuckin' stronger than 'im. I could take it, I thought. 'e can't. No' when 'e might want fuckin' kids one day. Can' ge' your nice li'le white picket fence American dream with the knowledge a demon will come for your kids, Eh?"

Wynonna

The drink in her hand--what was left of it, anyway--was cold and comforting. It gave her something to hold on to so that she wouldn't lean into Constantine like she wanted to. She nodded along with him. "Could even mojo me too." As if that had just occurred to her...Which it had. "If you haven't already, right?"

Wynonna's gaze dipped down when she realized that the low hum she was hearing wasn't bar related. No, that deep, formerly comforting sound of Peacemaker flaring to life so it could do what it needed to do was real. Was now. Because it was resting against his skin.

Her mind flashed back to that long ago night at the hotel with Harry. When Peacemaker had woken her from heavy sleep because Lash was in his head. To the way the gun would flare to life in reaction to the Mantle. "John what did you--"

Then she fell silent, dread making her heart drop into her stomach when his words caught up to her. Wynonna didn't reach for Peacemaker but she did grab his jacket, yanking him closer. He didn't know. Harry hadn't told him and neither had she. God they were all so fucking stupid. "What the hell do you mean that a demon will come for his kids?"

John

Another snort of pained laughter. "Yeah, if I haven' yet.", he echoed and then, because he was watching her from the corner of his eyes, he saw her face change. He saw the penny hit the ground for the first time and bounce back up in the air.

He expected her question and still, he heard Harry's accusation there, twisting his heart further like barbed wire wrapping tightly around it.

There wasn't really an explanation for what he'd done. Not one he could just lay out there for her in that moment.

And then the penny dropped again.

Ting

And the universe flicked another one in the air.

The world tilted off kilter.

Not because Wynonna nearly dragged him out of his chair, but because he could see the fear in her eyes. Because her question wasn't phrased to relate to a mere possibility. Will. Not would.

John's own penny dropped like a hollow point bullet to his gut.

"He's go' kids…", John whispered tonelessly, blue eyes wide. "You've go' kids. You two … got kids."

Wynonna

Her own curiosity about how far his memory rewrites was completely and utterly forgotten. At that moment she didn't give a damn about herself or what he may or may not have done to her. Her mind had been screwed with before. It could wait.

The grip on his coat tightened as she basically dragged him out of the bar. A bouncer moved toward them, ostensibly to see if any sort of intervention was needed. Wynonna flashed her BBD badge and shook her head at him. "I've got this, thanks."

When they're outside she looks up at him, still not relinquishing her hold on his stupid trench coat. "Guess he never got around to telling you about them." Wy let sharp cruelty edge into her voice because if any kindness slipped in she would fucking break then and there. "He has two. A daughter with Susan. And with me. Two kids, John."

John

He followed along, numb and silent for once. Teeth clenched, breathing hard through his nose, throat working to keep down the threat of being sick. The alcohol he'd consumed even before coming to the bar trying to crawl out of his stomach in a hot wave.

Harry had children.

Harry remembered.

Mormo … was still out there.

"No…", his voice was still toneless. "No … he never told me...", neither had she. Fuck, they'd been together for seven months back then and she hadn't even told him the name of the man who's death had devastated her.

"Two children …", he echoed, staring at the spot below her collarbone. Where the neckline of her shirt revealed a glimpse of a familiar chain. Did that chain still hold the pendant he'd given her?

He sucked in a shuddering breath and looked up at her, a spot right under her left eye. "I go'a go. I go' favours to call in. 's abou' time I drew a final line with tha' bitch."

Wynonna

"Guess maybe he didn't trust you as much as you thought." Even as she spoke the words, she knew that wasn't it at all. Harry had trusted him. Implicitly. It was why everything had cut so deep for him.

Wynonna watched Constantine continue to work through everything, her own mind feeling full while her heart felt heavy. She nodded at the repetition. "Two little girls." She didn't say their names, knowing that was information that could be used against them as well.  His gaze strayed toward her chest and if they'd been in any kind of place for it, she would have called him out on it.

She shook her head. Within seconds Peacemaker was out of its holster and held up to John's forehead. The gun glowed in the dark of the night, humming lowly as she did. "No. You're not goin' anywhere. Not yet. You're going to tell me why my gun's so friendly with you now and explain why your Goddamn ego might get two kids dragged down like Astra."

The magic of the gun tingled against his skin, the demonic blood trying to escape the touch. A cruel smile twisted his mouth and he reached up to curl his hand around hers. Tightening her fingers around the gun and pressing his forehead against the muzzle.

"Don' poin' a gun a' somethin' you don' intend to shoot, luv.", he hissed. "Every moment we stand here, those two li'le girls are in danger. You really wanna play 20 Questions righ' now? Yeah. Then lemme give you a short rundown. And if you think tha's worth riskin your child's life over, you be'er be prepared to pull tha' trigger."

And right there, standing in the dark, his hand holding hers still, the gun to his forehead and searing his skin, he told her everything. Trying to save Astra's soul with their hair brained scheme, Mormo vowing to kill them for the spell they had concocted, going after Harry, nearly killing him, John wanting to save him, but not being strong enough to banish Mormo for good … and then making the hardest decision of his life.

Erasing himself from the memory of the man he loved.

He ended with: "And I fucked a demon. 'parrently tha' leaves a stain tha' your gun don't like."

Wynonna

Wynonna ignored the familiar zip of electricity that went through her when John wrapped his hand around hers and upped the ante by pressing the muzzle flush against his head. If things were different, she'd comment on how that ticked a few boxes for her.

"You think I won't?" Her voice was cold but there was the barest hint of wavering in the question. If she had to she would. But it would break her. She knew it.

But she fell silent, listening to John spin his yarn and explain what had happened. Wynonna pushed back the wave of emotions threatening to breach the calm, cold demeanor she was working to hold onto. Her gun was still pressed to Constantine's head. "Here's what's going to happen. You talk to whatever damned contacts you have. Call in your favors. Say whatever prayers or curses you have before you put up some sort of cloaking bullshit to hide them. If that doesn't work I'll send you to hell myself."

John

He was breathing heavily against the splitting pain radiating from where the gun touched him.

"I will.", he promised her then, jaw tight. "By the end of this, those kids are safe or I'm dead."

And when he found it in himself that he meant it, that he was fully prepared to die in the process of saving his former lovers' children or get on his knees in front of her so she could put a bullet through his head, his gaze moved up from where it had been fixed to her cheek and met her eyes for the first time.

Any resistance he might have put up against a Soulgaze before, he willed away. Laying his dirty, tainted, terrible soul out for her ...

Wynonna

Being drawn into a Soulgaze was something she'd only experienced once before. With Harry. It started out the same way, sensation wise. With Wynonna feeling like she was tumbling down a tunnel with no clear light at the end.

She saw small John Constantine being berated by his father. "Killer." Mucus Membrane. The Newcastle incident with Astra. Every trick and stunt he pulled and the loathing that often laid behind it. Nights with Harry and the love he felt for him. ...Love he felt for her too. Guilt. Fear. Anger. Hope. There was so much in there that it made her breath catch.

John

The world fell away as he let himself be drawn into her, racing through images and emotions.

The gun in his her small hand, the shot, his her father dead, running, running, running from a responsibility too heavy, from the hatred, from the name calling, the gun back in his her hand …

Harry.

Harry, Harry, Harry, the child.

Harry's death.

John.

Both of them.

And all of it, underneath the pain and the guilt … woven into it, drifting through it like the smoke of his cigarettes, love.

Love for her sister.

For her daughter.

For Harry.

…

…

…

For John.

He came out of the Soulgaze gasping for breath, wet asphalt under his knees and palms and tears finally, finally falling.

Wynonna

Overwhelmed didn't even begin to describe how Wynonna felt as the Soulgaze ended. Though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, it had felt like so much longer. So much shit that Constantine had to wade through. But Goddamn it. Damn him. Damn Harry. Damn her. He was good intentioned.

Peacemaker's light winked out as her hand fell away from him, her other arm wrapping around her midsection as she attempted to catch her breath. Her own eyes blurry with tears. Try as she might, she couldn't hold them back either. "You asshole." She cried with frustration. "I wish I could hate you."

John

His laughter was breathless and bordering on hysterical, just for a moment. Then he looked up at her, brows drawn into a pained frown. "Yeah …", he muttered "Yeah, I wish you would."

The echo of her love for him was still rattling around his chest, the feeling of it making his skin feel raw, as if even his familiar, well worn clothing was chafing him.

"I really, really wish you would.", it would be so much easier to walk away after this. Once he had made it right, once he had made sure the children were safe …  when he would need to leave her.

His hands pressed hard against the pavement, he took a few steadying breaths, before he pushed himself back to his feet. "If you have a way of contactin'im, do so. Make sure the kids are alright. I uh … my promise still stands, bu' if you still don' believe me … if you think I'll bail … you have my name, from my own mouth. Do you still have the amulet?"

Wynonna

"If I could...I would. It would hurt less." Apparently it was far easier to be honest this soon after a Soulgaze, with her defenses down and broken. Her other hand rested on Peacemaker, this time for comfort rather than the need to try and intimidate John.

Wynonna looked back at Constantine. Without a word she unwound her arm from around her middle to bring her necklace out from under her shirt. It swung loose now, the amulet from John and a charm from Harry as telling about her feelings as the damn Soulgaze had been.

"Ma--" She'd almost said her name. "I know one is safe. Hidden away." Anyone would have to be absolutely reckless and stupid to try and breach the defenses that surrounded the Carpenter household.

John

Not only had she kept the amulet, it still hung exactly where Harry had put it after John had given it to Wynonna. Together with Harry's own charm …

It would be shocking if he hadn't seen exactly where her feelings for both of them still stood. A thought nagged at him.

'What does Harry think about that?'

He didn't ask the question, instead, he nodded and pushed a hand into his coat pocket to retrieve a pocket knife. He'd barely flicked it open with a blunt nail before he pressed the sharp tip to the palm of his hand.

"Gimme the amulet."

The fresh wound wasn't deep, but deep enough to weep a few drops of blood that he pressed to the metal, whispering a spell under his breath. He could feel the connection being made, like a silk ribbon being drawn through his veins from his heart to the wound and he wince before he pulled his hand away and pressed his palm to his mouth to watch the blood being sucked into the crevices of the pendant.

The sharp, acidic sting of his own tainted blood on his tongue made him wrinkle his nose before he continued to speak.

"A promise spell. You get one wish from me 'n I'm beholden to carry i' out or suffer consequences. Use it now to compel me to save your daughters or save it to summon me when you need me. Your choice. Either way, should be security tha' I'm no' bout to run."

Wynonna

She handed the necklace over without question, silently watching the process with appraising eyes. It was something she'd seen from him dozens of times. And, just like with Harry, it was always an interesting thing to watch. Let's not get sentimental, Earp. That'll do jack shit for you in the long run, remember?

Any other time she would have laughed at the way he'd used beholden or the notion of a promise spell. As it was she nodded and took back the necklace, resting her hand against it for a moment before slipping it under her shirt once more.

"I don't think I need to compel your already guilty conscience," Wynonna told him. "But it's nice knowing that you won't just..." She trailed off and shook her head. "Whatever." A long moment of silence passed. "You ever fuck with my head, Constantine?"

John

His fingers had started fumbling for his cigarettes in that quiet where both of them seemed to be looking for what to say, while being unwilling to just turn and leave. He'd just put the white stick between his lips when her question hit and he sent her a sad little smile.

"'xcept for tha' time we played strip poker 'n I made you believe I coul' outplay your three Queens?", he tried to joke, but the smile dropped immediately and he shook his head. "Never. No' even once."

Wynonna

Despite everything his not quite landing joke still managed to eek out a whisper of a smile from her, though it was as brief as his had been. "Thanks for that." Which might have been an odd thing to say to your ex...whatever the hell he'd been but when had she ever done things normally?

"Later on I'll have to...See if I can't summon the Winter Knight. Saying his boss' name three times brings her around so maybe it's the same for him." Though Wynonna wasn't in a rush to say his name. It hurt. Far too much.

John

"Mab ...", John muttered, teeth clenching tight enough so he could hear the crackle of it in his ears. The fairy bitch who had been trying to manipulate all three of them. Who had organised that little reunion of theirs and who had made sure that Harry had had a reason to seek John out again afterwards.

"If I never 'ave to 'ear 'er name again, i'll be too soon.", he grumbled and took a drag from his cigarette. Another moment of silence and then, for the second time since they had first met, he presented her with his business card.

John Constantine Warlock Phone 021....

Nothing more than that.

"In case you need to ge' hold of me the mundane way."

Wynonna

"Yeah, good luck with that. It's about as likely as never hearing--" Wynonna stopped short, realizing that the comment she was about to make would have been bordering on cruel.

No need for that, Wynonna. He knows how you feel now.

Instead she looked down at the card fingers tracing over the slightly raised lettering. One eyebrow rose up. "No more 'Master of the Dark Arts'?"

John

"Notice tha', huh?", he replied dully, not quite looking at her. Habit or lingering guilt, he wasn't going to question it. "Was a bit pretentious. Master. Wassnit?"

The hadn that mechanically put the cigarette to his mouth was shaking. The effects of the day, the exorcism, his injury and now ... this, settling into his muscles and making them weak. God he needed sleep.

"I know where to start, who to ask.", he said finally. "I'll find you when I'm done."

Cigarette between his lips he reached up to pull the collar of his coat higher, tighter against his injured neck, before stuffing both hands into his pockets and turning away from her without another word.

Wynonna

There was more she could have said. Wanted to. But her mind was already sliding back toward the drinks behind the bar and the lonely hotel bed she wanted to slip into. Wynonna watched him walk away and she felt her breathing catch.

All because of her stupid heart.

"Be careful, John Constantine. I don't want to kill you but I will for them."

~finis~

[its-negans-lucille]

Head Start

THIS IS A REUPLOAD

You can find my Masterlist HERE!

Prompt: Hi,may I get a oneshot where you’ve been on your own for years &one day you run (quite literally)into some men.They take you with them& you end up meeting Negan whom is their leader. Idk what else to put,but I’d like to see what would happen:)thankyu – Via @lust-for-pan

Ships: Negan x Reader Words: 1,717 Warnings: Curses Category: Angst

***

You were walking down a long road in the heat of summer. You felt sweat dampen the simple, grey, tank top you were wearing. Thirst tickled at your throat and each time you swallowed it was like sandpaper rubbing together.

The grass on either side of the, burning hot, tarmac was a dead yellow and if you were to walk on it the grass would crumble underfoot. The trees mirrored the same dead colour as the grass as they towered far above you, there was no movement from them as there was no breeze whispering through their leaves. You saw one of the dead, cut up in two by a tire, as it crawled toward you. Its skin was peeling off as it inched nearer to you. Its skin was an angry red and you were sure that if you touched its frontal lobe it would burn from all the hours left in the heat. You moved past it.

You had been alone for years now; everyone you cared about was dead. They at least had the grace to die all at once after one attack by a neighboring group. At least it wasn’t like most tales where one member of your family would die, then a few months later after you were just recovering from that death another would die, then another, then another, and so on. No, they had all left you at once. Alone.

After that you hadn’t wanted to join another group, too afraid that you would feel the colossal loss that you were still getting over.

You were just beginning to think about getting into some shade when you heard the low rumble of car engines coming from behind you. You turned around to see three, black, trucks coming into view. This didn’t bother you, most people drove past strangers on the road, leaving them to fend against the dead and the elements. Though you did warily switch off the safety on your gun with a small click, better safe than sorry.

You carried on walking but moved to the side of the road so that the people in the trucks could pass easily. You could hear the low growl from the trucks advancing on you, but you kept looking forward. You soon saw the first truck pass, then the second but then the third truck slowed to a crawl beside you. You kept your nerve and kept your face forward.

“Hey. Hey you! Hey gorgeous!” A voice from beside you said. You turned your head to see that a man with a handlebar mustache was looking you over. “What’s a girl like you doing all alone out here?” His voice was condescending and you didn’t approve much of it.

“Minding my own business.” You replied in a flat voice. “Unlike you.” You continued, your tone was anything but kind and inviting but yet this man kept persisting.

“Oh! She’s got a sharp tongue! I wonder what you can do with that?” He said in a suggestive tone which made your skin crawl.

“Fuck off.” You replied. You couldn’t do anything but carry on walking and pray for this man to leave you alone.

“Shit! Negan is going to like you.” The man said with a smirk. “Get in the truck, we can take you-��

“No.” You replied in a stern, final, voice.

“No?” The man asked, blatantly amused by you which just infuriated your more.

“Are you deaf?” You asked, your eyebrows high as you looked at him incredulously.

“Fuck, Negan really is going to like-” His voice was cut off as you turn to him, stopping and leveled your pistol between his eyes.

“I don’t care about this ‘Negan’ and if you know what’s good for you you’d leave me the hell alone.” You said in a quick and lethal voice. The man only smiled. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The man replied in a sure and smug tone.

“And why,” You stepped forward so that your gun was brushing the man’s forehead. “Is that?” You said, a small smirk dancing on your face.

The man smiled a smug, dangerous, smile as he leaned back and banged his fist on the back of the front seats and almost instantaneously the doors from the back of the truck thundered open and ten men, heavily armed with large machine guns, approached you. You felt your arm go limp as you let it drop to your side.

“Get in the truck.” The man said, all humor gone from his voice as he leaned over and opened the door beside him.

You resigned yourself to knowing that this was going to be a long journey.

***

You were pushed roughly through into a high ceilinged room with dirt encrusted window and a large industrial fireplace bracing the left wall. Thankfully this fire had not been lit for you thought you may cook if there was any more heat.

Your hands were bound and you were stripped of all your weapons. The man that had captured you that you had learned whose name was Simon stood in front of you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently.

You stood there for a while in silence, the ten men that Simon had had in the back of his truck flanked the doors so you had no escape that way.

Eventually above you there was the slam of a door, the sound reverberated around the room. Your head snapped up when you saw a lean, tall, man wearing a simple white shirt with some beige jeans tucked into his black army boots. He had a lethal bat resting on his shoulder, barbed wire curled tightly around its tip. He had an unnervingly wide, white, smile gracing his lips as he watched you curiously.

It was only then when you realised that all of the men on your level had dropped to their knees and were not looking at this man in respect. You frowned but did not move, keeping your head tilted defiantly upwards.

“Simon!” Negan said in greeting as he leaned up against the iron railing, watching the people below him.  All of the men returned to their feet.

“Negan.” Simon nodded respectfully.

“And who is our hot-as-shit guest?” Negan asked as continued watching you.

“She’s-”

“None of your business.” You replied, cutting Simon off.

“Fuck! She has some fire too!” Negan said as he began to walk down the metal stairs. “I like me some fire.” He continued in a lower voice.

“It’s it hot enough without some fire?” You replied in a weak voice.

“Shit, and she’s funny.” Negan continued with a gracious smile. “Why i do believe I’ve found myself a keeper.” Your stomach dropped at that.

“She pulled a gun on me as well.” Simon said almost as if it were a good quality. He still had a large smile on his face. Why was everyone always smiling? “Why I do believe that Little Negan is getting excited.” Negan said with a seductive smile as he looked down at his crotch.

“Can I go now?” You asked in a bored voice.

“You know what, I don’t know.” Negan said, it was obvious that he was toying with you. And enjoying the hell out of it. “I kind of want you on my side.” Negan stepped toward you.

You didn’t move back, still determined to show him that you were not one of his little bitches and you would not cave under him.

“And if I don’t want to be on your side?” You replied with a quirked eyebrow. “Well, that would be a great loss to the world.” Negan said in a mocking voice. “And especially to me.” He whispered in your ear as he circled you much like a shark circles its prey. “Plus, I don’t think you’re in the right position to turn away from anything I say.” Negan continued.

“Really?” You replied incredulously.

“Really.” Negan breathed softly.

“Well, in that case,” You fiddled with your restraints for a moment before they dropped to the ground. “I choose life over certain death.” You smiled at Negan’s impressed look on his face.

“I am fifty percent more into you now.” He said with a large smile. “Let me show you your ro-”

“No.” You replied simply, mirroring your conversation with Simon earlier. “No?” Negan replied in a low voice, confusion lacing his gaze.

“I choose life.” You said in a final voice as you backed away from Negan, toward the door.

“Ah, I see.” Negan said as he ran a hand down his scruff.

You turned to one of the men who were guarding the door, you kissed him softly on the cheek and as you did so you snatched his gun out of his hands and kicked out his knees. He let out a groan and the other men raised the weapons, looking from you to Negan, waiting for a command to shoot.

“I would advise you let me go, or I will kill some people. And let me tel you, it would be my pleasure.” You continued to back toward the door, all the time having your gun trained on Negan’s face.

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now.” Negan replied in an almost hungry tone. “Fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.” Negan continued.

“Eh, maybe one day.” You said simply as you kicked the door open with one foot.

“Until then.” Negan said as he openly gazed at you.

“Until then indeed.” You shut the door behind you with a loud bang.

***

“Sir!” One of the men said loudly. “Should we go after her?”

“Yes.” Negan replied as he gently placed a hand over his crotch. “Just give her a head start, would ya? I need to go fuck one of my wives.” He said in a resigned voice.

“Okay, a head start it is.”

***

Thank you so much for the prompt @lust-for-pan I enjoyed writing it and I hope that you enjoyed reading it! Thank you all for reading my stuff and as always have a wonderful day!

@negans-network

[lyraparadigm]

Nostrum - Troy Otto /OC part #6

Thanks to Sarah (bluegladiatortheorist) for being the beta for this chapter!

Chapter 6

Arya was sat next to Madison at Charlie’s memorial service the next day. No one had interacted much with her and for that she was thankful but still, she felt like Charlie would have hounded her to socialise with them were he still alive. She missed him a little. It felt odd to hear people come up and speak about him, about he meant to this community. It felt odd that these people actually paused and mourned for their losses. She remembered a time when she could do the same – it felt like a lifetime ago. Charlie’s mother, Pat, stood at the front and spoke of her boy’s unbroken spirit. It was touching, at least until she snarked, “He would’ve been alive had it not been for him helping the unprepared.”

Arya’s eyebrows shot up as the grieving mother glared pointedly at Madison. The tension was palpable in the atmosphere. Noticing this, Madison was quick to rise and introduce herself, and her family, to all the people gathered in the hall.  “We lost someone too.” She spoke in a broken voice, “Travis…he was our compass.”

Her words were true enough and her face displayed the sincerest of emotions but Arya couldn’t help but notice how tactical Madison was being. She bit her lip to contain her smile. Arya had a feeling Madison knew exactly what it took to survive in a world like this. If, as in this case, survival meant playing nice, then Madison would do just had. Arya figured she could learn a thing or two from the older woman, so she took Madison’s cue and stood up herself.

“Hello everyone…I’m Arya. I was travelling on my own for a while before your Militia found me. I stayed with them at the base for two weeks so I…I knew Charlie.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, her eyes wandered over the entire crowd. She made sure to lock eyes with Charlie’s mother and, ignoring her icy stare, Arya continued, “Charlie was the first person to make me laugh, since this whole mess started. I’d almost forgotten what my laughter sounded like…but Charlie reminded me. You were right, Pat,” she nodded, “Charlie was full of life – full of joy, even when the world burned around him.” Sucking in a breath, she spoke softly, yet clearly, “You know, he thanked me once for saving his life…but he didn’t know that by being my friend at the base…that he saved my life too. Now I’ll never get to tell him.” Her words faded towards the end before she sat down meekly. She noticed Troy gazing at her, his initial confusion quickly settling back to his usual infuriating smirk. He knew what she was doing. Of course he did, she seethed internally, he always knows what I’m thinking. Refusing to acknowledge him, Arya followed Madison’s lead and dipped her head in mourning.

Jake stood up, taking charge of the room as he thanked everyone for their kind words. He spewed some bullshit about everyone staying strong, about moving on. Unsurprisingly, this didn’t seem to satisfy the crowd’s hunger for revenge. One man, Vernon, stood up and completely ignoring Jake’s pathetically placating tone, demanded that Jeremiah take action. He wanted to know who took down the helicopter.

The patriarch shook his head and calmed his people down. “Nothing’s changed, Vernon. We’re gonna find out who shot at us and we’re gonna handle it. If it’s a wingnut, we’ll handle it and if it’s a bigger threat…we’ll handle it.”

“What my father means is we’re going to get payback.” Troy jumped in, seeming to have understood the crowd’s mood. Cheers filled the room as the group got more and more riled up. They wanted answers. They wanted to fight back. Jake’s calm exterior faltered as he attempted to intervene. He spoke of how they weren’t a mob – that they shouldn’t lose themselves in their rage. He said they had to remain hopeful. Arya rolled her eyes at that; what were they meant to be hopeful for? Everything was just ash and dust now. The only thing anyone could remain hopeful for, was to survive…and no-one could survive in this world by just laying back whilst their own were killed. Having heard enough for one morning, she left as soon as the meeting was dismissed, motioning for Mike to come with her. He had offered to give her a tour of the ranch earlier that day and she had taken him up on it. Arya didn’t fail to notice that Troy’s curious eyes were following them as they left the room. Ignoring him, she turned to Mike, “Where to first?”

“First, you need to watch TEOTWAKI.”

Staring at him, flummoxed, she asked, “Is this some hick town thing that I won’t get or like?”

He laughed, “Eh, it’s a little weird at first but you’ll get what this place is about once you watch the videos.”

////

“It’s official. Jeremiah is the biggest crackpot in this place,” Arya declared as she entered the infirmary to meet Nick and Luciana.

“He actually spent money to make a four-part video series on how to survive the world once the government toppled due to foreigners and sinners.”

“He what?” Nick laughed.

Arya went on, explaining what TEOTWAWKI was and the ideals that this place was built on. “See? I told you, things are too weird here. I don’t like it, Nick. We should leave as soon as I’m well enough,” Luciana pressed, once Arya had finished.

“Arya, you should come with us!” Nick elaborated, “We were trying to make our way to Mexicali before Troy and his men caught us”. Arya’s eyes flickered to him, surprised by his excellent poker face- he really seemed ready, eager even, to leave the ranch. Had she not overheard him promise his mother that he would stay, she would have been as unquestioning as Luciana clearly was.

“I don’t know Lucy,” Arya shrugged. “I mean, have you seen this place? They have coffee in the mornings and hot showers on demand and chocolate.”

“Yeah, I’ll show your round once you’re all good,” Nick chipped in.

The scowl on Luciana’s face was enough to deter any further persuasion. “They tried to kill us. Troy kept you a prisoner too Arya, how could you not want to leave?”

Nick scoffed, “I already had this argument with her yesterday.”

Arya shrugged again, “I guess I just feel…in control here.”

“Of course you do,” Nick muttered under his breath which Arya still caught. She narrowed her eyes at him but decided not to risk pursuing it, not in front of Luciana. Soon though, the injured girl fell back into a fitful sleep, leaving Arya and Nick were relatively alone in the ward.

“So…you thought of how you’re gonna contribute yet?”

“Yeh, one of the top things on my mind today.” Nick’s sarcasm caused Arya to snort.

“Ok, fine, but I’m just saying…I saw some people give Alicia stick earlier. They called her a free-loader. Things’ll only get worse the longer you go without contributing.”

“Get worse? What could be worse than Troy sleeping on my bed?” He grumbled. Arya raised her eyebrows questioningly and Nick explained that Troy had broken into their cabin and slept in his bed… all apparently part of some creepy obsession he had with Madison. “If I didn’t know better I’d have thought he had the hots for my Mom but I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Nick stated rather bluntly.

Arya flushed angrily. Threateningly, she retorted, “When are you planning on telling Luciana you want to stay here with your family?”

Nick glared back at her before rubbing his face with his hands. Ignoring her question, he asked, “Have you thought about how you want to contribute?”

“I’ve got some ideas. I need to speak to Troy about it.” she replied, staring at Nick, daring him to make another of his comments. When he didn’t, she left haughtily.

////

“You’re beginning to make a habit of it, Doll.” Troy smirked as he continued clipping pieces of barbed wire into the fence of the cabbage field. Upon Arya’s questioning look, he replied, “Staring at me…”

Rolling her eyes, she walked closer, “I heard you broke into Madison’s cabin.”

“They’re all my cabins,” he argued, becoming defensive in an instant. He was glaring at the fence separating them, his eyes not meeting hers. She was half-tempted to demand why he had slept in Nick’s bed – that was just plain creepy - but her mouth stayed firmly shut as annoyance crawled up her spine.

“I went to speak to Madison. To commend her on her speech and to tell her that her son isn’t worthy of this place.”

All of a sudden she didn’t want to be here anymore. His jealousy was making her want to retch and she didn’t quite know why. “Yeah, and why’s that?” She asked sarcastically, attempting to hide her discomfort. She expected to hear some more bullshit but his answer surprised her instead.

“This whole community is built on loyalty you know? It’s family first and everyone here is family. Nick left his family. He doesn’t deserve Madison chasing after him.”

Sighing, Arya rubbed her forehead, “How do you know I didn’t leave my family?” she countered.

He scoffed, “You tried to help me when Madison had a spoon stabbed in my eye. You’re loyal.”

“Maybe that was just bad decision making on my part,” she grumbled, to which he laughed.

“Come here- I need you to hold this for me.” He gestured for her to come on his side of the fence. Rolling her eyes, she obeyed and crossed over. Kneeling next to him, she took the pliers from his hand. He reached his arms around her to hold the wire in place.  “Like this,” he corrected.

She rolled her eyes hard enough to make him laugh. “It’s in exactly the same place,” she retorted dryly, ignoring the way his large hands felt over hers. His breath caressed her neck, making her gut clench. She felt his laugh as his chest brushed against her back, “Maybe I’m just a perfectionist.”

“Ok, this is just…what are you doing?!” She wriggled away, her hands shoving his chest back. He had invaded her personal space too many times to count now and she was getting sick of it.

He caught hold of her wrists. Narrowing her eyes, she was about to shove him a second time, harder, but before she could, Jake arrived and served as an interruption.

“Arya,” he nodded, his brows furrowing as he stared at their clasped wrists. Arya, quick to snatch her hands back, rose up and dusted off her knees.

“Jake,” she muttered, hating the way her cheeks began warming. She hadn’t done anything wrong but that didn’t make her feel any less guilty. She felt like a kid that had been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar because…well, she had somewhat liked his hands on hers.

“I need to speak to my brother alone.” Jake’s tone sobered her.

“You can say whatever it is you want to say, Arya doesn’t need to leave.” Troy continued fixing the fence. “She’s already witnessed one of our arguments,” he commented aloofly, irritating Jake even more.

“I need you to stay away from the Clarks.”

Arya felt that familiar feeling of jealously bubble in her stomach as she watched the two brothers haggle over the Clarks. She couldn’t fathom why she felt this way or why she was even here, watching the two of them argue about ‘on whose invite the Clarks came here to begin with’. She should have just walked away… She was about to do just that, but froze as she heard Jake threaten Troy.

“If the ranch knew what you really are…”

Troy got up, his head tilting as he asked Jake, “And what am I, Jake?”

She felt her stomach sink as she saw disdain flash across Jake’s face…and if she had seen it, then it meant Troy had too. Arya remembered seeing that look on her eldest brother’s face once. It had been right after she had killed someone for the first time. She had thrown up after her brother had walked away, unable to bear disappointing him so deeply.

Crossing her arms, Arya remained silent as she watched Jake try a new tactic. He was now talking about both the brothers leading the Ranch together after their father’s passing. That seemed to mollify Troy as he knelt back down on the ground, rather reluctantly promising to stay away from the Clarks. Arya knelt beside Troy again and pointedly ignored Jake when he said goodbye to her.

“Easy there,” Troy mumbled as he watched Arya hack away at the wire with the pliers. Head snapping towards him, she smacked the pliers on the ground. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the look of vexation across her face. She parted her lips but bit them shut again, blatantly deciding to not voice her opinion. That struck Troy as being strange, so he probed, “What?”

It seemed like she was glad to be asked so she could release all her anger.

“Why do you let him talk to you like that? In front of strangers too?”

Troy blinked at her outburst and stayed silent as he watched her rant.

“He should have your back and even if he disagrees with you, he should discuss it with you- not make promises to strangers that he’ll protect them from you.” She scoffed, “What, are you some kind of dog that he can just promise to put on a leash?! And what does he even know about the base?! He was there for like a day. Has he even seen what other groups are like on the outside? Does he even know the kind of shit people get up to? And to look at you like..like…that and to say ‘if the ranch even knew what you are’ – they all know and they keep silent because you do all the dirty work. They have no right to judge you when all they do is farm and expect the Militia to take care of them.” She took pause as she sucked in a deep breath. Troy watched her with rapture – this was clearly not something she was expecting, judging by the perturbed expression on her face.

“What?” she hissed, her eyes narrowing as he began to smirk. His eyes were alight with exuberance for a long, silent moment before they dropped shyly to his hands again. Arya scowled, finding Troy’s mirth to be extremely irksome- she had just insulted his brother and his people, yet this lunatic was smiling at her.

“And you,” Arya’s anger flared toward him now, “You just sat there and let him demean you. What happened to the big, bad, bossman on the military base? Why are you so goddamn docile-”

The rest of her sentence was muffled by his lips smothering hers. Her eyes widened in alarm and her hands even began to rise, to push him off, but then his palm cupped her jaw so tenderly that her eyes fell shut of their own accord. His lips were supple, perfectly contrasting the coarse stubble on his jawline. Her heart pounded erratically against her ribcage and her breath hitched as she felt his lips move against hers. She remained immobile, yet not stiff. She sunk into him, in complete contradiction of what her mind was screaming for her to do. Picking up on these inconsistencies, Troy pulled back ever so slightly. That was all the respite she needed to snap out of her daze. Her palm roughly gripped his cheeks and squeezed them painfully. Twisting his head to one side, she dug her fingers further into the sore spot right below his wounded eye. He grunted in distress, careful not to throw her off him in case she caused his eye more damage.

“You ever try that again and I’ll finish what Madison started,” her voice low and threatening. It would have intimidated anyone else into submission, but Troy couldn’t help the grin forming on his face. This only fuelled the fire in Arya’s belly. Backing back, she growled like a feral animal. It frustrated her that he seemed to find this kind of behaviour acceptable.

“You’re fascinating, you know that?” he murmured as he flexed his jaw. His eyes sparkled as they gazed at her appraisingly. His hands felt for the imprints her nails had made in his cheek. She let out a strangled scream, “What is the matter with you!?” As he smirked, she stormed away, refusing to entertain him further. This conversation had gotten completely out of control. She had only come to tell him she’d be joining the Militia. No matter, she thought; after that debacle, she’d rather follow Luciana to Mexicali than join the Militia under Troy.

-/-/-/

Arya spent the rest of the evening helping out in the infirmary until Luciana went to sleep and Nick insisted Arya leave with him. They ran into Gretchen then, who tried to get them to come to bible studies; politely declining, they promised to join another time. Nick asked Arya if she had spoken to Troy about ways in which she could contribute, but the ferocity of the glare she had sent his way was enough to silence him. He didn’t bring up that topic again and chose to engage her in light-hearted banter instead. Soon enough, the pair found themselves walking the grounds, pausing as they came across an elderly couple, slow dancing on their porch. Nick had a wistful look in his eyes that Arya couldn’t relate to. All she felt was a surge of bitterness and sorrow. It was in her nature now; she couldn’t seem to accept happiness, whether it be others’ or her own.

Upon hearing the hum of a truck engine approaching them, Arya turned, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the driver. Muttering curses under her breath, she turned her back to the jeep. Simply hearing Troy’s voice caused her fists to clench. She was stubborn in her refusal to even acknowledge his presence, much less reply to his question.

“What’re you two doing out so late?”

She scoffed inwardly: as if it was any of his business.

Nick didn’t answer either and it pleased Arya to imagine how disgruntled Troy must be. She knew he was jealous of Nick. His reason for being jealous of the younger boy had never sat well with her- after all, it no doubt had something to do with his disturbing Madison-obsession. Now though, it seemed like Troy was jealous for a different reason– a reason Arya could get on board with. Feeling reckless, she interrupted Troy and his compulsive need to persuade Nick to join a boar hunt. Pressing a hand to Nick’s shoulder, she mumbled “Thanks for this Nicky – I really needed it.” She smiled warmly at him, her eyes grateful, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Having caught Troy’s scoff as she walked away- no doubt he was scowling deeply back in the truck- she couldn’t help but smirk to herself. She was enjoying this newfound influence over him but, as she reminded herself, he was the devil: she would need to be careful in this dance with him.

/-/-/

Arya found herself drawn to the bunker Gretchen had invited her to earlier. Her mind was already running rampant with stray thoughts about Troy and how completely infuriating he was. Then her thoughts drifted down a dangerous path; she started remembering how his hands felt, pressed to hers..how his lips felt. Sucking in a sharp breath, she scolded herself. She couldn’t do this – not with him of all people. She desperately needed a distraction and she figured bible studies was as good as any.

Oh, how wrong she was.

[kaienmoved]

The Kids Aren’t Alright: Chapter 3

Chapter Index: (Chapter 1,Chapter 2, Chapter 4)

Shigeo sat atop the trash can, his legs folded neatly across one another. He was far away from reality, stuck in his own mind as he lost himself in his own thoughts. His eyes fixed on something in front of him, but his brain didn't pick up what he was seeing. His trusty bat lay across his legs, his hands holding onto it, his left just under the barbed wire. It ruined his once beautiful wooden bat, tracing it with white lines whenever it shifted. The coarse, sharp wire snagged under his pants and dug into his skin. He kept still so it wouldn't dig deeper. It's not like it was uncomfortable. The trash can top he sat on rattled a bit. The bricks in the wall next to him seemed to shake. His breathing was almost unintelligible. A slight shadow entered his vision, causing him to come back to his senses. His head snapped in the direction of the shadow. Eyes focusing on the figure, he realized it was Onigawara.

The second Shigeo processed it was him, the tension increased tenfold. The pressure could shatter a mirror in an instant. Onigawara held his head low, his fear leaving him unable to look up at his leader. Shigeo’s hand gripped the handle of his bat, yanking it from hanging on his pants. Sliding off of the trash can, his eyes set on Oni. He began tapping his bat on the ground, creating that uneasy pattern again. It was almost as if time had shown down, the only thing heard were the taps on the ground, echoing in the two's ears. The distance closed in between them. Shigeo stared up at Onigawara’s face, who refused to look directly at him.

“Explain yourself, Onigawara.”

Silence.

“We needed to defeat those Black Vinegar kids.” he mumbled.

Shige's mouth tightened, his face burning up.

“So you baited me into fighting them, by saying my brother was kidnapped,” The tension increased.

“I beat up all of them. All of them because I thought I was fighting for my brother.”

“Shigeo-senpai..”

“I could have killed someone, I may have even hospitalized some of them.” His fist tightened on his bat. He could strangle someone with that grip.

“You son of a bitch.” Shigeo raised his bat, swinging it into Onigawara's side, leaving him no time to react. “What would my brother think-?” Onigawara yelped and fell to the ground, trying to cover his head.

“What would he think if he found out I beat up a bunch of random kids?!”

He brought the bat back down on his side, over and over. He stopped once his arms started getting tired, and he was heavily breathing. He was too frustrated to deal with Onigawara anymore. He needed to get home, at least he knew Ritsu would be safe at student council.

26%

Ritsu sat at the end of the table, looking over papers handed out. He was hardly listening to them, nonetheless reading the paper right in front of his face.

“...Kageyama-kun?”

Flinching, Ritsu turned to Kamuro, who called him.

“You rank as one of the smartest in the nation, so I'd like to hear your opinion.” Kamuro said, his grin making him look more intimidating to go with the bags under his eyes.

“Right… In our school, there are students known as delinquents here. If the student council can reprimand them, we may be able to create a more peaceful school.”

“I see… A peaceful school, eh? That's great, let's do that.”

Ritsu skimmed the writing on the chalkboard. “Delinquent” was written on it.

Shigeo lied on his futon, two books open in front of him. He was struggling. Math was not his forte. But he had to try his best; apart from his “hobby” he still truly valued trying his best. Things would be much easier if Ritsu was helping him. Shigeo's pencil lightly traced the textbook he was referencing from. He was doing his best to understand whatever he was reading, but he was hardly processing it. He'd been sitting in front this book for nearly two hours with no break. His brain was essentially fried. What about the GCF again…? I'm so bad at fractions.

He was snapped out of his frustration at the sound of the door opening, and shoes kicking off with a thunk. Shigeo's heart skipped a beat causing him to barely get dizzy. He pressed his hands on the floor near his shoulders and pushed up, hopping onto his feet. His socks made the landing a little less harsh, a thump hitting the floor rather than a slap.

Ritsu heard his brother, his breathing picking up in speed. He knelt down to neatly align his shoes neatly by the door. He hardly wanted to interact with his brother at the moment, his mind was still on the topic of purging the school of delinquents. He heard Shigeo’s door slide open and him step out into the hallway.

“Ritsu?” His voice was soft and content with a twinge of frustration.

“Yeah?” Ritsu started up the stairs, holding onto the banister.

“I'm struggling with my math right now, can you help me?”

“Sure, Nii-san.” Ritsu ascended the stairs and followed Shigeo into his room.

“Thank you so much, we have an exam soon and I'm not getting anywhere with this.”

The younger brother nodded his head and emitted a sound showing that he understood.

They both sat down on Shigeo's futon, Ritsu picking up the textbook and placing it on his lap. “Alright Nii-san, so you're working on Greatest Common Factors?”

“Mhm, GCF, yeah.”

“Alright let's see what I can do.”

Shigeo leaned onto Ritsu to see his textbook better. Being this close to his brother made Ritsu anxious. His breath hitched and his heart started pounding. Was he scared?

Shigeo picked up his pencil and notebook, ready to take notes over the ones he already had.

The two stayed his room until dinner, almost missing their mother's call for food.

“Are you going to be alright with this?”

Shigeo nodded, a brief smile on his face. His eyes didn't reflect the smile on his lips. They looked vacant, it was like he was daydreaming the whole time they were working.

“Thank you, Ritsu. I think I can pass this exam now.”

Ritsu waved his brother goodbye as Shigeo slid the door closed. The bright expression he had faked on his face, faded into a solemn gaze. He went into his room, reflecting on the student council meeting previously. Hovering over his bed, he collapsed onto it, face first, his hands curling.

Nii-san… I’m so sorry. I never thought it would come to this.

From they were young, Ritsu was always fascinated by his older brother. The amount of power that he held amazed him. He wanted to be just like him. He wanted to be better than him. And yet, he was just so scared of him. From how he singlehandedly beat up those delinquents to protect him. He was so admirable. Who knew that he would end up become the Shadow Leader’s brother, one of the most feared titles and 2nd most powerful position amongst the students. Not to mention, he was the youngest Shadow Leader, and one of the most powerful. He wanted to know what it was like to be alongside him, but now he would only tear that opportunity away from him and the power from his brother. Wait.

“I have an idea.”

Shigeo sat in front of his dresser, staring at the pair of metal claws messily shoved into a small box. he picked up one side and nipped off the dried blood on the tips. His hand swiveled to get a look at the underside of the claws. He lowered his hand, the familiar feeling of him losing touch with own body. The objects around him lightly shook, his notebook and futon hovered above the ground. He shook himself back into reality. If he were to get like this he might as well just sleep. Hastily shoved claws back into its box and put it back on the highest shelf. He turned off the lights in his room and crawled under his sheets. Wrapping himself in his sheets like a burrito, he fell onto his side and immediately fell asleep.

Ritsu could not sleep that night.

Kamuro and Ritsu stood in the front of the classroom. Ritsu's head kept low, his hands stiffly behind his bsck. Kamuro held a menacing smirk, accompanied by his tired eyes. He was babbling about restoring order to the classroom. Yeah right, it was because of them that this whole class was in a frenzy.

A heavy weight was being held down on Ritsu's heart. It made him nauseous. All of this, to make school have a more “comfortable environment”.

“You open Onigawara's desk.” Kamuro whispered to Ritsu.

He did not respond, but he went over to the area assigned.

His head perked up to see their target enter the classroom. The shiny, smooth paumpadour, the slight bags under his eyes and the expected stern expression, a hand held on his side. Everyone in the class turned to him.

“The teacher isn't here yet?”

Shigeo's head rested on his arms, deep in sleep. He could still hear what was going on in his class, if only faintly. His mouth opened, letting out a brief snore.

His head shot up, taken aback by how loud he thought his snore was. Some students glanced at him then back at their teacher. Shigeo looked at the board to see where they were in the topic. He got a little bit of drool on his textbook but it wouldn't hinder him unless he ripped the wet spots.

He couldn't figure out where they were. English gramm-

A chorus of shrieking students going “hentai” could be heard through the walls followed by a familiar voice yelling in response.

Shigeo's class laughed, some snickered and few ignored. He was one of the few who ignored.

What is going on?

Ritsu sat on his bed, his legs folded over each other. Staring at his upside down reflection in the spoon he gripped. The images of today's events replayed in his head. Framing an innocent student, no matter how bad he was. Kamuro was so proud of himself, hardly guilty of what he had done. And it wasnt going to stop there. One apple has been picked, and there are so many more to come down.

His hands tightened around the handle. His vision became so blurry, his fingers turning pale and his breathing so aggravated. The spoon fell to the ground with a clink that echoed in Ritsu's head. His hands covered his eyes, curled but relaxed. He let go of the stress on his shoulders, it hurt seeing how stiff he was all day. He took a deep breath, shuddering as he exhaled. He didn't move, napping until he was called for dinner. It was always so awkward. All the focus was on Ritsu, they never asked how Shigeo was doing. They were never interested in his delinquent activities. But they were always so proud of Ritsu and his grades. Shige never even tried to change their opinion of him for them.

Ritsu returned to his room without a word to his brother. Before getting onto his bed, he picked up the spoon he'd dropped from earlier. The handle was bent beyond comprehension. He analyzed the broken spoon in awe. This couldn't be real. He couldn't help himself from curling his lips into a crooked smile.

“I've done it. I've gained powers.” He whispered to himself.

He sat on his bed, snickering to himself, one hand covering his mouth, the other holding the spoon. He tossed it onto his desk, it bouncing off the wall then landing. He lay down on his bed, awfully content with himself. Today is a day to remember.

Shigeo sat in front of the dresser, picking at his skin.

Ritsu followed behind Kamuro, continuing their process of making the school more peaceful. So many students have been flagged, essentially making their plan a near success. The two walked in the hallways, Kamuro’s chin up, Ritsu's eyes focused on Kamuro’s heels. The tired boy turned around to look at Ritsu. The sudden stop caused Ritsu to flinch and backpedal.

“Kageyama-kun, we are nearly done. Judging by the information we received, we're almost done.”

He received a sigh in response.

“Next on the list is 2nd year Shigeo Kageyama.”

Ritsu's eyes widened and he nearly choked on his own gasp.

“I'm assuming he's your brother, judging by your reaction.” He chuckled a little. “I'll let you take care of this. I'll be in the counseling room.” Kamuro smirked as he walked past Ritsu.

His heart pounded in his chest, he felt like he was going to throw up. He tightened his fist and made his way to his brother's classroom.

Shigeo did his best to carefully listen and take notes. He wanted to do better in his classes.

The entrance to his classroom slid open, yet he didn't acknowledge it.

Ritsu watched his brother intently as he did his work. His face softened a little, he was proud of him to say the least.

“Can I help you young man?” The teacher asked.

Most of students eyes were on him.

Pointing at Shigeo he said “I need to talk with Shigeo for a moment.”

His head jumped up from his notebook to look at his brother who interrupted his class.

“Ritsu!” He quickly got up and bowed, hastily following Ritsu out of the door. He slid it closed on the way out.

“Ritsu what's going on?”

“Nii-san. I'm here to tell you about what the student council has been doing. We've been flagging delinquents, suspending them. I don't want this to happen to you, it'll go on your records.”

“What do I do then?”

Ritsu took a sharp breath before looking into his brother's eyes.

“You can either leave the gang that you are apart of, passing you of the punishment. Or, you allow me into your gang and I will excuse you from the punishment.”

The window they stood next to cracked, causing Ritsu to jump. Shigeo lowered his head, the pressure around him increased.

“I'm going to refuse.”

Taken aback by his response, he figured he needed to press more.

“I don't think you realize how big this is, Nii-san.”

“Ritsu, do you know why I'm denying? I don't want you apart of this.”

“Why would you care about me joining your gang? You started it so why can't I be apart of it?”

“Because if I ruin your future, I'll regret every decision I've made that has led up to this point.”

“But I'm your brother!”

Glaring at Ritsu, he sent shivers down his spine. “Exactly.”

Ritsu's fist tightened, his nails digging into his palm. “Alright then. Nii-san, I have to ask you though… You've been trying so hard with school. Just why is that?”

Shigeo faltered, the pressure loosening.

“I wanted to be like you. If I could get better grades maybe you would be proud of me. Maybe mom and dad would be proud of me too.”

Ritsu's heart skipped a beat, his face started burning. He was starting to regret this, but he had to follow through. If he would just accept either of the options, it could benefit the both of them. If he gave up being a delinquent, they could all be a happy family. Or close enough to it. If he left him into the gang, Ritsu could gain the power he had been yearning for, alongside his brother. But if he declined it would only hurt them both.

“Nii-san, if you want to make me proud just accept one of the offers. If you get suspended, you'll never make me proud.”

He got a shiver saying that, it was cold, too cold.

“Ritsu…”

“Yes?”

“I'll let you join.. but I'm going to protect you, being a ‘delinquent’’ will not be so easy for you. I'm your big brother and I don't want to ruin your life from this.”

Shigeo swiveled on his heel, going back to his classroom. If he was any angrier, all the windows in the hallway would have broken. Ritsu stared in dismay as his brother entered his class. He was so dizzy, his shirt was damp with sweat.

Ritsu entered that dark unwelcoming room, Kamuro sat at the end of the table.

“Ah welcome back, Kageyama-kun. How did it go well with your brother?”

“Wonderfully.”

Shigeo repeatedly tapped his eraser on the table, his fingers digging into his cheek. He wasn't paying attention to class anymore. He dissociated until school was over. His table shook, his school items hovering above the table. No one acknowledged it.

Shigeo slowly walked home, tapping his bat on the pavement in front of him.

“Nii-san?”

He didn't respond. The tapping in front of him got faster.

“Nii-san, I thought you would be home by now.”

“I took the long way.”

“The way that takes 3 extra hours?”

“What do you want?”

“No..nothing.”

Shigeo continued tapping his bat in front of him, still at that extremely fast pace.

Ritsu shrieked when a figure dropped from the sky in front of Shigeo. He was also taken aback, swinging for the person's head. The bat was stopped by a bare hand, who impulsively tried to duck the bat despite already catching it. Shigeo looked up at the figure he had automatically attacked, only to be greeted by pleated light brown pants, a purple jacket, sparkling blue eyes and shining blonde hair. He had a soft warm grin on his face, only to let Shigeo feel less intimidated.

“Hello Kageyama-kun.”

[its-negans-lucille]

Head Start

You can find my Masterlist HERE!

Prompt: Hi,may I get a oneshot where you've been on your own for years &one day you run (quite literally)into some men.They take you with them& you end up meeting Negan whom is their leader. Idk what else to put,but I'd like to see what would happen:)thankyu – Via @lust-for-pan

Ships: Negan x Reader Words: 1,717 Warnings: Curses Category: Angst

***

You were walking down a long road in the heat of summer. You felt sweat dampen the simple, grey, tank top you were wearing. Thirst tickled at your throat and each time you swallowed it was like sandpaper rubbing together.

The grass on either side of the, burning hot, tarmac was a dead yellow and if you were to walk on it the grass would crumble underfoot. The trees mirrored the same dead colour as the grass as they towered far above you, there was no movement from them as there was no breeze whispering through their leaves.

You saw one of the dead, cut up in two by a tire, as it crawled toward you. Its skin was peeling off as it inched nearer to you. Its skin was an angry red and you were sure that if you touched its frontal lobe it would burn from all the hours left in the heat. You moved past it.

You had been alone for years now; everyone you cared about was dead. They at least had the grace to die all at once after one attack by a neighboring group. At least it wasn’t like most tales where one member of your family would die, then a few months later after you were just recovering from that death another would die, then another, then another, and so on. No, they had all left you at once. Alone.

After that you hadn’t wanted to join another group, too afraid that you would feel the colossal loss that you were still getting over.

You were just beginning to think about getting into some shade when you heard the low rumble of car engines coming from behind you. You turned around to see three, black, trucks coming into view. This didn’t bother you, most people drove past strangers on the road, leaving them to fend against the dead and the elements. Though you did warily switch off the safety on your gun with a small click, better safe than sorry.

You carried on walking but moved to the side of the road so that the people in the trucks could pass easily. You could hear the low growl from the trucks advancing on you, but you kept looking forward. You soon saw the first truck pass, then the second but then the third truck slowed to a crawl beside you. You kept your nerve and kept your face forward.

“Hey. Hey you! Hey gorgeous!” A voice from beside you said. You turned your head to see that a man with a handlebar mustache was looking you over. “What’s a girl like you doing all alone out here?” His voice was condescending and you didn’t approve much of it.

“Minding my own business.” You replied in a flat voice. “Unlike you.” You continued, your tone was anything but kind and inviting but yet this man kept persisting.

“Oh! She’s got a sharp tongue! I wonder what you can do with that?” He said in a suggestive tone which made your skin crawl.

“Fuck off.” You replied. You couldn’t do anything but carry on walking and pray for this man to leave you alone.

“Shit! Negan is going to like you.” The man said with a smirk. “Get in the truck, we can take you-”

“No.” You replied in a stern, final, voice.

“No?” The man asked, blatantly amused by you which just infuriated your more.

“Are you deaf?” You asked, your eyebrows high as you looked at him incredulously.

“Fuck, Negan really is going to like-” His voice was cut off as you turn to him, stopping and leveled your pistol between his eyes.

“I don’t care about this ‘Negan’ and if you know what’s good for you you’d leave me the hell alone.” You said in a quick and lethal voice. The man only smiled.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The man replied in a sure and smug tone.

“And why,” You stepped forward so that your gun was brushing the man’s forehead. “Is that?” You said, a small smirk dancing on your face.

The man smiled a smug, dangerous, smile as he leaned back and banged his fist on the back of the front seats and almost instantaneously the doors from the back of the truck thundered open and ten men, heavily armed with large machine guns, approached you. You felt your arm go limp as you let it drop to your side.

“Get in the truck.” The man said, all humor gone from his voice as he leaned over and opened the door beside him.

You resigned yourself to knowing that this was going to be a long journey.

***

You were pushed roughly through into a high ceilinged room with dirt encrusted window and a large industrial fireplace bracing the left wall. Thankfully this fire had not been lit for you thought you may cook if there was any more heat. 

Your hands were bound and you were stripped of all your weapons. The man that had captured you that you had learned whose name was Simon stood in front of you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently.

You stood there for a while in silence, the ten men that Simon had had in the back of his truck flanked the doors so you had no escape that way.

Eventually above you there was the slam of a door, the sound reverberated around the room. Your head snapped up when you saw a lean, tall, man wearing a simple white shirt with some beige jeans tucked into his black army boots. He had a lethal bat resting on his shoulder, barbed wire curled tightly around its tip. He had an unnervingly wide, white, smile gracing his lips as he watched you curiously.

It was only then when you realised that all of the men on your level had dropped to their knees and were not looking at this man in respect. You frowned but did not move, keeping your head tilted defiantly upwards.

“Simon!” Negan said in greeting as he leaned up against the iron railing, watching the people below him.  All of the men returned to their feet.

“Negan.” Simon nodded respectfully.

“And who is our hot-as-shit guest?” Negan asked as continued watching you.

“She’s-”

“None of your business.” You replied, cutting Simon off.

“Fuck! She has some fire too!” Negan said as he began to walk down the metal stairs. “I like me some fire.” He continued in a lower voice.

“It’s it hot enough without some fire?” You replied in a weak voice.

“Shit, and she’s funny.” Negan continued with a gracious smile. “Why i do believe I’ve found myself a keeper.” Your stomach dropped at that.

“She pulled a gun on me as well.” Simon said almost as if it were a good quality. He still had a large smile on his face. Why was everyone always smiling?

“Why I do believe that Little Negan is getting excited.” Negan said with a seductive smile as he looked down at his crotch.

“Can I go now?” You asked in a bored voice.

“You know what, I don’t know.” Negan said, it was obvious that he was toying with you. And enjoying the hell out of it. “I kind of want you on my side.” Negan stepped toward you.

You didn’t move back, still determined to show him that you were not one of his little bitches and you would not cave under him.

“And if I don’t want to be on your side?” You replied with a quirked eyebrow.

“Well, that would be a great loss to the world.” Negan said in a mocking voice. “And especially to me.” He whispered in your ear as he circled you much like a shark circles its prey. “Plus, I don’t think you’re in the right position to turn away from anything I say.” Negan continued.

“Really?” You replied incredulously.

“Really.” Negan breathed softly.

“Well, in that case,” You fiddled with your restraints for a moment before they dropped to the ground. “I choose life over certain death.” You smiled at Negan’s impressed look on his face.

“I am fifty percent more into you now.” He said with a large smile. “Let me show you your ro-”

“No.” You replied simply, mirroring your conversation with Simon earlier.

“No?” Negan replied in a low voice, confusion lacing his gaze.

“I choose life.” You said in a final voice as you backed away from Negan, toward the door.

“Ah, I see.” Negan said as he ran a hand down his scruff.

You turned to one of the men who were guarding the door, you kissed him softly on the cheek and as you did so you snatched his gun out of his hands and kicked out his knees. He let out a groan and the other men raised the weapons, looking from you to Negan, waiting for a command to shoot.

“I would advise you let me go, or I will kill some people. And let me tel you, it would be my pleasure.” You continued to back toward the door, all the time having your gun trained on Negan’s face.

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now.” Negan replied in an almost hungry tone. “Fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.” Negan continued.

“Eh, maybe one day.” You said simply as you kicked the door open with one foot.

“Until then.” Negan said as he openly gazed at you.

“Until then indeed.” You shut the door behind you with a loud bang.

***

“Sir!” One of the men said loudly. “Should we go after her?”

“Yes.” Negan replied as he gently placed a hand over his crotch. “Just give her a head start, would ya? I need to go fuck one of my wives.” He said in a resigned voice.

“Okay, a head start it is.”

***

Thank you so much for the prompt @lust-for-pan I enjoyed writing it and I hope that you enjoyed reading it! Thank you all for reading my stuff and as always have a wonderful day!