#negan x oc slow burn

[everythingwrongwithizumi]

The Walking Dead

Series

You Got my Heart

Blurbs

…coming soon…

Headcannons

…coming soon…

Oneshots

…coming soon…

Series

…coming soon…

Blurbs

…coming soon…

Headcannons

…coming soon…

Oneshots

To Be Loved

[n3g5nx]

Negan x Reader/OC TWD

Chapter two! I already have more chapters out on ao3 so go check them out if you enjoy <3

AO3 Chapt. One

X found themselves in a small dark room, sitting on a pillow and staring at the faint glow of a lantern that sat in the corner. The room smelled stiff, the air heavy and dry. They felt more like a prisoner at this point, but at least they were untied and had a fresh change of clothes. They'd also been allowed to quickly shower off the dirt and blood that had once caked their hair and skin before changing and being escorted into here. Negan, who had personally brought them here, assured X that it was just for the night and they'd talk more in the morning. Something about letting them rest before they figured out what was what and how they might be connected to the slaughter that occurred. Maybe they'd even find out why they were tied up in the first place.

They replayed the past few hours in their head on a loop, turning everything over in their head. X couldn't help but feel like an unwanted guest, a strange outsider who intruded on this intricate world within these factory walls. Hell, who wouldn't feel like an outsider when cast into some dinghy small room? They questioned how they could fit in here, what role they could possibly play, or if they would just be cast aside. Maybe worse.

For now, though, all they could do was sit silently in the room and try to get some rest. Biding their time, waiting for morning to come. X watches the shadows from the lantern dance across the grey walls, exhaustion settling over them. 

Slowly, with a resigned sigh, X slumped against the wall and let their eyes draw close as they fell asleep.

Hours passed, and X suddenly woke up in a cold sweat, feeling a hand on their shoulder as they gasped for air and pushed themselves into the corner of the room, eyes wide and frantic. The looming figure in front of them jerked backward, hands coming up defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, no need to flip your shit on me now," the figure, Negans, a voice cut through the room with an amused tone, letting out a low chuckle. "You were sleeping so hard I damn near thought you were dead."

X's breath began to steady as they glanced around the small room, seeing that it was only Negan. Slowly, they brought a hand to their head and rubbed it softly. They gulped and glanced down nervously as Negan slowly crouched down to their level, looking at them from across the room.

"Looks like you had one hell of a rough night, sweetheart." Negan started in a low voice, firmly holding his gaze on X, "Why don't we get you out of here and have a little talk ourselves."

X nodded and slowly stood up, holding their hands tightly to their chest as they fiddled with their fingers nervously. Negan also stands up and backs out of the room, X following quickly behind. They spot a guard down the hallway watching them but pay little mind to it as they follow Negan. They're led down the winding corridors of the old factory all the way up to an ornate-looking door. Negan passes them a sideways smirk before pushing the door open and stepping inside. It looks like an office, with two other entries on opposite walls and a desk in one corner. In the middle of the room sat a couch and a plush leather chair in front of the desk. X took their seat in the leather chair as Negan sat on the other side of the desk, a grin on his face. 

"Now then," He starts as he pushes a glass of water across the desk, "why don't you give me the rundown on yesterday?"

A cloud of tension settles over the room as X takes the glass, taking a long, slow sip of water as they ponder their response. After the shower and rest of last night, along with this water here, they felt like they could finally muster some sort of speaking. So, they did.

"Well.." Their voice was low and hoarse, "I was walking down a road practically half dead when a truck pulled up beside me and two men stepped out…"

Negan's posture remained relaxed as he watched them with an intense gaze. He listened closely, hanging on each word, resting his head on his two intertwined hands as his elbows propped up on the table.

"I didn't even know what was happening when I was suddenly being grabbed," Their voice began to quiver, the memory lurking back like a sour aftertaste, "everything just went black then. I woke up, who knows how many hours later, and everything was still and dark. I thought maybe I was dead for a minute before I came to my senses. You know the rest…" 

X took another sip of water, looking down at the desk as their voice trailed off. The room lay quiet for a moment, tension weighing down harder and harder with each passing second.

"You have any people that might've come looking for you?" Negan asked in an accusatory tone, "My men rolled up and scared whoever off before they could open the truck… Might've been looking for someone."

X shook their head, expressing a mix of resignation and uncertainty. "No, sir.." 

Negan couldn't help but crack a wide grin, a deep laugh cutting through the tension in the room like a hot knife to butter. "Sir, huh? Well damn, kid," he sat back in his chair, arms crossing around his chest, "making me feel all official and shit. Now then, we just gotta figure out why you were tied up like a goddamn Christmas present just for me."

X took another sip of water with an audible gulp, "I'm not a kid.. You don't have to call me that." They muttered defiantly, gaze shifting to Negan's eyes.

Negan's grin deepened as he regarded X, an amused glint in his eyes as he waved a hand dismissively. "Well I will keep that in mind, but no need to get all prickly about it," his voice came out in a placatingly jovial air. "But hey, you got the whole wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights thing going on. C'mon."

"So," X started as they finished their glass of water, "wouldn't you know more about the whole me getting kidnapped thing than I do? Considering they were your men, after all." They speak genuinely, tilting their head slightly to the side curiously.

"Now that is a good thought." Negan mused as he tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk, lips curved into a thoughtful smile. "But since I don't know shit about why the hell you got your ass swept up off the wasteland, I'd bet someone here sure as hell does."

He slapped his hands on his desk, pushing himself up and walking around the table. He kept his eyes locked on X as he held out a hand to their still-sitting form. "Let's get you to your new room and I will figure this shit out." he declared exuberantly.

X looked from his face down to his hand before sucking in a deep breath and taking it, allowing him to effortlessly pull them to their feet. They follow him down the familiar-looking corridors again until he comes across a room with an open door. It was a medium-sized room complete with a small kitchenette in one corner and a little living room set up in the other. To X's delight, there was also a good-sized bed pressed against a wall with a murky window sprawled across it, offering a view of the courtyard below and the distant treeline. It was not much of a grand sight, but hell, it was something.

"Now, it ain't the Ritz, but I am sure you'll find yourself right at home here." Negan grinned as he stepped into the room, X closely following.

They noticed a plate of food already in the kitchen and furrowed their eyes at it, looking at Negan with a confused look.

"See, I had so much faith in you that I had this room and that food over there already made up just for you this morning." Negan said with a cocky grin, leaning against a table in the middle of the room. "I mean, you just look so innocent."

His eyes lingered on X unnecessarily long, getting a blush out of them when his eyes noticeably wandered down their figure. Negan let out an exaggerated flirtatious whistle, which made X shift in place and cast their gaze towards the floor. The prolonged admiration of sorts affected them, so they fought to brush away.

They managed to find their voice and spoke up, albeit a bit shaky, as they cleared their throat. "Right… Well, I appreciate it. All of it, really." They glanced back up, eyes meeting Negan's for a fleeting moment as a faint smile tugged at their lips, a soft pink hue still lingering on their cheeks.

Negan's forward demeanour threw them off, and they could not tell how much of it was supposed to be a joke. Maybe all of it was a joke; perhaps it meant nothing at all. But damn, X couldn't help but secretly wish it was more than just jokes…

Negan let out a low, relaxed chuckle that filled the room, the sound oozing charm and a hint of danger. He sighed lightly as he ran a hand through his slicked black hair and moved swiftly towards the door. A cocky smirk pulled at his lips as he grabbed the door handle. "Well, I will leave you to it then." he drawled, giving off an air of casual authority.

As he began pulling the door shut behind him, he paused momentarily. Negan's intense gaze fixed on X, and he let out a cool breath. "Oh yeah, and if you stay here, well, you work for me, all right?" His words held heavy in the air, an indirect threat, no, a promise. With that he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

X was left speechless as they stood in the room alone, a twinge of fear rolling up their back in a wave of chills, from flustered to bemused and shaken up in a matter of seconds. It was almost impressive Negan's ability to quickly switch up the mood. Their thoughts were cut off by their stomach rumbling, and they sighed, grabbing the plate and sitting down on the bed with it. Yeah. It is a lot more comfortable than the concrete cell from the night before.

Surprisingly, the scrambled eggs were still warm and fluffy. Even more surprisingly, they actually tasted good. A piece of what looked like homemade bread was next, a nice layer of butter spread atop. This was something they could definitely get used to. Besides, as long as they behaved and did what Negan said, they'd be alright.

[walker-bait-1973]

8 Years Part One

Photo Edit by Me

A Daryl Dixon/ Sybil Tremont Fanfiction (Daryl x OC)

Background information: It’s assumed the reader knows the world of TWD. This Fanfic takes place after Alexandria, Hilltop, Oceanside, and the Kingdom are established and at the height of success. Carl is dead. The communities are bound by a doctrine created by Michonne. Rick is presumed dead. Daryl and Michonne never lost hope and searched for several years for Rick without luck. Daryl had a short relationship with Leah. The Saviors disbanded with Negan in a jail cell in Alexandria. The Whisperers have been defeated, and Lydia is a valued member of the Hilltop homestead.

18+

Daryl x OC (Female)

Warnings: Violence, Alcohol, Slow Burn, Fluff, Smut

Part Two

Master List

Chapter 1: Caramel

The summer of 1990 was a record-breaker for heat. The sun shone brighter than ever by early June. While people around Atlanta were finding ways to keep cool, Merle Dixon along with his younger brother Daryl, and their motorcycle gang pulled into the local 7-11 to get some ice-cold brews. They were headed to Pine Lake for a party. Merle and two of his buddies went inside for drinks.

“Hey Merle, get some snacks too!” Daryl yelled after him. Merle shot him the middle finger, laughed, and went inside. Daryl lit up a cigarette. As he listened to the group talking and laughing, a small group of young ladies walked past them. Daryl’s attention averted to have a gander at these five women. One, in particular, stood out to him. She was a curvaceous woman, with an ample chest, wide hips, and thick thighs. Her long ebony curls bounced in a neat ponytail as she walked in flip-flops with painted red toenails. She was wearing a pair of cut-off blue jean shorts that hugged her apple-shaped bottom. Her skin was a delicious shade of caramel, tanned from the hot sun no doubt. Her red halter top complimented the shade well. As she passed him he said, “Hot day.”

She nodded curtly, eyeing the pale-skinned man in the grey tank top as her friends giggled and they went into the store. She stopped for a moment to look over her shoulder at him, “You better watch yourself, you’re gonna get burned.”

He smiled slyly and playfully smacked Terry in the chest as the automatic door swung shut, “damn!”

“She’s outta your league, Daryl.” Terry chuckled as Daryl rubbed his dirty blonde goatee. He was already plotting what to do next.

“Naw… she ain’t.” He took a breath before heading into the convenience store himself. Terry looked at Buck and sniggered.

Inside, Daryl could hear Merle’s loud voice back by the beer cooler laughing with Sam and Joe. He casually walked down one aisle with low shelves, spying on the girls over by the Slurpee machine comparing flavors. He paused by the snacks and perused the various chips, raising his eyes often to watch the girls as they laughed and poured themselves the thick icy beverage. He glanced back praying his brother wouldn’t come up while he made his move. He walked to the girls and said, “Hey, ‘s y’ flavor?”

“Caramel” sucked slowly on her straw before saying, “Cherry.” A pair of large green eyes framed with long lashes lifted to look at him. He felt his insides turn to mush, as a boyish grin crossed his face.

He followed her outside and as she started walking away with her friends he called out, “’s yer name?”

Looking over her rounded shoulder, “Sybil.”

From that moment on, he was hooked.

Chapter 2: The Receipt

Alexandria

Daryl rolled over, restless in his bed. He heard footsteps thudding on the basement ceiling. Judith and RJ must be over for breakfast. He sat up, Dog instantly licking his face.

“Down, boy…” he grunted. Dog jumped to the floor and waited patiently by the back door for his morning walk. Daryl shirked into some clothes, donned his boots, and opened the door. Dog ran out into the dew-covered grass behind the house to do his duties. Daryl whistled,  beckoning for Dog to join him as he walked down the road toward the Alexandria main gate.

Rosita and Aaron were up on the platform, keeping watch for possible trouble.

“Good Morning, Daryl!” Aaron called out. Daryl waved quietly and moved along, toward the community center where many of the residents chose to eat together. He walked in, nabbed a fresh loaf of bread, and returned to Carol’s house.

“Good morning Uncle Daryl!” Judith exclaimed running to him as soon as he closed the door.

“Mornin’ Jude,” he answered as she hugged him around the waist. He put his arms around her shoulders and hugged her in return. RJ joined them and gave Daryl a high five.

“Come on, Judith… RJ… let’s get you fed before classes.”

“Y’ heard Aunt Carol… c’mon and get to the table.” Daryl grabbed a knife and started cutting up the bread for toast. Carol served the kids fresh scrambled eggs, apple slices, and orange juice. They munched on the yummy food while Carol poured Daryl his first cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter sipping it, his mind wandering.

He went weeks before he saw Sybil again. This time, she was at a grocery store as a cashier. What luck Daryl had! He spotted her immediately as he carried the armloads of food to the register. He decided to go through her line, affording him a great opportunity to talk to her again.

“Have a nice day,” she was saying as she handed the receipt over to the customer in front of him.

He scratched the back of his neck as she started cashing him out, “find everything you were looking for?” She lifted her eyes, a smile on her face, dimples adorning her cheeks.

“Naw…”

“No? Is there something I can help you with?”

“Sure. Y’all could give me y’ number.”

She chuckled, “You’re mighty confident.”

“’ Member me?”

“Not sure that I do,” she replied, toying with him. There was no way Sybil could forget those deep-set blue eyes and that handsome face.

“I can make it so y’ never f’get me again.” He leaned on the conveyor belt, stopping it.

“Oh yeah?”

There was a line forming behind him.

“You’re right I’ll never forget you if you get me fired,” she feigned being cross.

“Give me y’ number an’ I’ll pay m’ total.”

“I don’t even know your name,” she said, “that will be twenty-eighty-seven.”

He pulled out thirty bucks. When she returned his change, she handed him his receipt.

“Daryl. M’ name’s Daryl.”

She smirked, “have a nice day, Daryl.”

He grabbed his bag, frowning. As he put his change in his pocket, he realized she’d written a phone number on the back of the receipt.

She winked at him and started on her next customer’s order.

“… Daryl?”

Daryl looked up from his mug at Carol, “Huh?”

“I asked what your plans were for today. Where were you just now?”

He shook his head, “Nowhere. ‘M thinkin’ of takin’ a ride t’ Hilltop.”

“Yeah? If so, could you take a few things for me? I made Maggie some curtains for Hershel’s room in the Barrington House, and there are some parts that Eugene needs for the radio.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, get t’ stuff t’gether n’ I’ll take it w’ me.”

He took a plate of eggs and set it on the floor for Dog.  Dog chowed down while Daryl munched on a piece of toast.

“Alright, go get washed up and Uncle Daryl will walk you to school on his way out.”

“Okay,” Judith looked at her younger brother, “get your stuff.”

Once Daryl delivered the kids to class, he and Dog ambled to the gate where Carol was waiting for him. He shouldered his pack and strapped the box of things to take down on his motorcycle. Carol squeezed his shoulder, “You have a safe trip, okay? Tell everyone I say hello. Oh, and I nearly forgot. Judith wrote Hershel a letter.” She slipped it into his hand. Daryl smiled.

“I’ll make sure he gets it.”

Chapter 3: Lending A Hand

Hilltop

Daryl sped into Hilltop, Dog in tow, and parked close to the barn. He got several waves from various community members and was warmly greeted by Maggie. She wrapped her arms around him for a big hug, “Been a long time, stranger,” she remarked, squeezed his shoulder, and knelt to pet Dog.

“Too long,” Daryl confessed, nodding in acknowledgment toward Jesus and Tara.

“Damn right it’s been too long,” Tara piped up, “tell us, what’s everyone been up to?”

“Y’ know,” he shrugged, “same old. Ain’t much t’ tell.” He patted his jacket pocket, “Got somethin’ f’ Hershel though.” He pulled out the envelope and handed it to Maggie.

“A letter from Judith?” She ran her fingers over the front of the makeshift envelope.

“Mhm. Seems they’re becomin’ pretty good pen pals,” He smiled.

“They are. It won’t be long, they’ll be on the radio talkin’. I think Hershel has a lil’ crush,” Maggie’s toothy grin spread.

Daryl grunted, “I got stuff f’ Eugene too.”

“He’s up in the attic monkeying with things, I’ll run it up to him,” Jesus said knowing full well how Eugene liked to talk people’s ears off, and Daryl was more of a quiet man.

“Thanks f’ that,” Daryl remarked looking around, “Where’s Connie?”

“She’s at Oceanside with Kelly and Luke. I know you’re disappointed,” Maggie teased.

“I’ll catch her soon ‘nough.” He shrugged, “’m here now. What can I do t’ help out?”

“We have a few cabins to build. Wanna help with that?”

“Sure,” he nodded, walking with Maggie to the area of expansion past the orchards. He was greeted by Alden, one of the blacksmiths, who was delivering a box of nails.

“Daryl, good to have you here,” Alden smiled, handing him a hammer.

“Jus’ tell me where t’ go.”

He pointed to one of the cabins already in progress. Daryl joined in immediately. As he worked with the others, it wasn’t long before he was sawing logs, roofing, and throwing himself into the job at hand. Daryl didn’t mind hard work. When the frame of the cabin was finished, he felt a sense of accomplishment and moved onto the exterior walls.

When he paused to take a cigarette break, he spotted Lydia making her way over to him. She had a wide smile on her face, her long black hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Elijah was holding her hand, the same goofy smile on his face. Daryl smirked. Young’uns.

“We brought you some water. You’ve been working hard,” Lydia handed him a canteen.

“Thanks,” he said, swishing the cold liquid in his mouth. Felt cool and refreshing on this warm Spring day.

“We were going to head to Alexandria for a visit, but now seeing as you’re here, we won’t leave until you do. If you don’t mind.”

“Naw could use the company,” he answered, patting her shoulder.

“Great! I miss everyone. And I wanted to see Negan.”

Frowning, “What y’ need t’ see him for? He ain’t no good, Lydia.”

“I know his past, and I know how you feel about him-”

“You don’t know all ‘bout that sumbitch.” Daryl never talked with anyone in his family about what transpired when he was held prisoner at Negan’s compound, Sanctuary. Tortured, starved, stripped down for humiliation…

“I suppose I don’t. But he stuck up for me when those kids attacked me. If it weren’t for him, I might not be here. I don’t need you to understand it, but I won’t sneak around to talk to him.”

Daryl had to give her credit for being so upfront about her connection with Negan. It was true that he helped her one night when three members of Alexandria ganged up on her. It was also true that one ended up dead at Negan’s hand. It was an accident, but with Negan’s history, it nearly got him lynched.

“I don’t understand it, an’ I don’t like it. But I ain’t gonna stop ya.”

That’s one thing Lydia admired about Daryl – he didn’t treat her like a little girl. He talked to her as if she was an adult, and she respected that. Too many people tried to treat her like a child. She was seventeen, and beyond her years in many ways.

Daryl tossed her back the canteen, “Back t’ work. Y’ know, y’all could help out. Get done a lot faster.”

“I can swing a hammer,” Elijah smirked, “I’m gonna help out.”

“I’ve got some other things to do, but then I’ll be back over.” Lydia kissed Elijah before leaving. Elijah blushed and cleared his throat.

“C’mon,” Daryl spoke up, “ ‘s getcha that hammer.”

Chapter 4: First Date

(One Week Later) Daryl drove up to the house where Sybil lived. Already outside, she’d been waiting for him. She laughed when he turned off his motorcycle.

“I just knew you were going to show up on that thing.”

Daryl looked down at the bike, “’s my ride.”

She nodded, “Oh yeah… it’s your ride alright. I’ve never been on one before.”

“Well, y’all will have the time o’ yer life then.” He smiled. She walked over in a pair of tight-fitted jeans, her hips swaying practically mesmerizing him.

“Interesting way to start a first date,” She commented, sliding on behind him. Her hands went to his waist, clutching tight as he kicked the motor on and took off down the street.

“Shouldn’t we have helmets?” She called into the wind. Daryl swung the bike onto the main road.

“Naw… yer fine.”

She laughed, “As I said before, you’re mighty confident.”

Daryl enjoyed the feeling of her behind him, her hands tightening their grip. He lowered his left hand and pulled one of her arms around him tighter.

“You’re bold,” she remarked, but slid her other arm around, locking her hands in front of his stomach.

“So are ya.”

They drove along Pine Lake, one of the first places he could think of to take her. When they got off the bike she said, “You’ve got me alone, in the woods. Should I be afraid?”

“I didn’t keep y’ alive on that bike only t’ kill ya in the woods,” He smirked. She laughed. It was music to his ears; so light and genuine.

“Been t’ Pine Lake ‘fore?”

“Oh yes. This is the main hang-out spot. You?”

“Come here a bit.”

They walked a trail along the east side of the lake, quiet at first.

“So that gang you’re with…” she finally cut the silence as she studied the trees, “been with them long?”

Daryl shrugged, “yeah. They’re kinda family. My big brother Merle started hangin’ out w’ some guys an’ it went from there.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Just one,” he teased.

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes.

“’ Bout twenty or so. Why?”

She shrugged, “Just curious.”

She pulled a leaf off a branch and twirled it between her fingers.

“Y’ thinkin’ ‘m gonna be trouble?”

“I don’t know… are you?”

“Maybe,” he stopped walking and pointed, “look,” he whispered, “a doe.”

She squinted, “Where?”

He extended his arm with his fingertip pointing, “Between them two birch trees. See her?”

After a few moments, Sybil smiled brightly, “I do. She’s beautiful. You have a keen eye.”

Daryl shrugged, “maybe.”

“Do you spend a lot of time in the woods?”

“Quite a bit. How ‘bout ya?”

“I love nature, but no… I haven’t been camping since I was a kid.”

“Yer missin’ out.”

“I suppose I am.”

“C’mon, I wanna show y’ somethin’.”

“Okay.”

They continued casually down the trail until he veered off it, onto an unbeaten path.

“Okay, now I know you’re going to kill me,” she teased.

“C’mon,” he rolled his eyes. They came to some tall rocks, “Up f’ a lil’ climbin’?”

Hands on hips she looked up at the rocks, “Should I have worn hiking boots?”

“Naw… them shoes are fine.”

She looked down at her vans and was thankful she’d chosen them.

“Alright. Let’s go. Show me the way.”

“It ain’t gonna be as hard as it looks. Found an easy way to get up there.” He motioned for her to follow. He went around the right-hand side of the stone goliaths.

“See here,” he pointed in front of him and upward, “almost like someone made a trail in them rocks.”

“They look like they have stepping stones cut into them.”

He started up the incline, turning around every so often to make sure she was still behind him. She was eagerly bringing up the rear, keeping close.

“’s is the hard part,” he said, reaching for her hand, “lemme help y’ up the rest o’ the way.”

She took his hand and he pulled just enough to get her over the final ledge. She took a breath and looked down behind her whistling, “We are up high.”

He nodded, “Higher than it looks from down there.”

She noticed a singed area and a pile of wood.

“You come here often?”

He nodded, “’s m’ place t’ getaway. C’mere… an’ look.”

She joined him on the opposite side of the rocks and looked out. What a sight to behold. She could see the large lake in its entirety from this vantage point, and the multitude of trees on the other side. The sun was bright in the sky. She felt as if she could reach out and touch it. The rays warmed her face. She turned to look at Daryl. His blue eyes were studying her, gauging her reaction. The humongous smile on her face was enough for him. He was convinced that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Daryl rolled to his side and stared into the darkness inside the hay mound sighing. He didn’t sleep much, to begin with. And even less since the world fell. Thinking of her made it near impossible. He sat up while Dog rustled through the hay to rest his head in Daryl’s lap. He brusquely pet the dog's head. Dog whined. He’d been with Daryl so long that he could read his emotions.

“S’ alright, boy. ‘ll get through it. Always do.” He got to his feet, stretched, and said, “C’mon. ‘S go f’ a walk.” Daryl and Dog made their rounds, checking the sentinels on the wall, joining them for a bit to watch for walkers or marauders.

“You’re up early,” Cal commented, shaking out his foot that fell asleep.

Daryl shrugged, “Always am. Don’t need much sleep.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Dixon,” Cal continued.

Diane looked over at the two men, “Be thankful Daryl doesn’t sleep much. He’s saved a lot of our asses more than once because of it.”

Cal knew it was true and agreed, “Oh I know he has. It’s just when I manage to have some time to rest, I conk out. Sometimes for half a day.”

People meandered about as the sun rose, and Daryl found himself back to work at the cabins.

“You know, there’s always one of those here for you,” Jesus said, holding up a board to be nailed.

Daryl said, “Hate t’ take a place from someone else. I don’t mind the hay mound or a tent. ‘M easy.”

“So have you completely set down roots in Alexandria?”

Daryl shrugged, “Dunno if I set roots down anywhere.” The truth was the man had huge bouts of wanderlust and couldn’t sit still for too long before needing to be out in the wild again. He went with Aaron sometimes to look for more people to bring back to the communities. He brought messages from one community to the next. He also liked to provide food, go on scavenging runs; anything to keep himself busy.

People that knew him knew he was this way. They noticed a big change when Rick infamously blew up the bridge that was to connect everyone to save his people. 

Daryl disappeared for three years. During his search for Rick, he met a woman by the name of Leah. No one knew about the affair he’d had with her except Carol. Dog had discovered an old house that seemed abandoned one day during their travels. But it wasn’t empty. That’s when he found an ornery woman living there that didn’t want him anywhere around her land. After about a year they began to talk, her more than him, and in a few more months they shared food. After that Daryl realized how lonely he was; one thing led to another and the two became involved. It didn’t last long. Daryl pulled away for several reasons: he wanted to continue looking for Rick, and he couldn’t allow himself to feel what he once felt for Sybil. When he was with Leah, she knew he was far away in his mind: thinking about his brother, and she had no idea what else. He couldn’t open up to her. That took years and trust. Something he knew he could never have with her. She put conditions on him and gave him ultimatums.

“It’s your brother or me.”

“It’s your family or me.” He was not a man who responded well to conditions. He wasn’t about to choose a woman that wanted all or nothing. So he walked away, never looking back.

Chapter 5: The Race

After two weeks of working on cabins, several were finished thanks to the hard labor everyone put in. Daryl wanted to reward them all with some venison, so he decided he’d head out before the light of day to hunt.

Dog stayed in step with Daryl as they silently made their way through the forest. He’d seen deer droppings which decided the direction they would go. Tell-tale signs of a foraging deer were seen everywhere if you were observant enough. Daryl was a master of tracking. He held his breath as soon as he saw the three-point, lifted his crossbow, aimed, and fired. The arrow hit its mark between the front shoulder and the ribcage, piercing the heart. The deer dropped where it stood, feeling no pain. Just the way Daryl liked it. No suffering.

He set to work right away field dressing the internal organs before he heard the groans of Walkers coming from the left.

“Shit,” he muttered, hefting the deer over his shoulders, “c’mon Dog,” he called, quickly making his exit. The organs would keep the few Walkers busy. At least enough for him to get safely away.

He returned at dusk with his prize, congratulated by many, and thanked personally by Maggie.

“Can’t have them people be veg’tarians,” Daryl teased, taking it to hang out back.

“Oh no, too many vegetables will make the people weak,” Maggie teased. Daryl eyed her between his curtains of bangs, a smirk on his face.

“They’ll appreciate it to be sure. We can do a lot with poultry and beef…”

“But there ain’t nothin’ like venison,” he cut in.

She nodded, “Right.”

They heard kids laughing and spotted Hershel and the other kids playing with Dog. Dog of course loved all the attention.

“Seems good to have them bein’ kids, huh?” Maggie asked, sighing. She had to dig deep to remember the days of misspent youth and no fear. Riding horses with her sister Beth, playing in the fields, and nights catching fireflies.

Daryl nodded as he shoved his bloodied hands into a basin of water, “Mhm… they ain’t had it so good, growin’ up too fast ‘cause t’ way t’ world turned out.” He dried his clean hands on a rag and watched the kids for a bit, a small smile on his face.

“Can’t catch me dog,” Marigold yelled out, her laugh echoing through the trees.

(August) ”You’ll never catch me, Daryl!” Sybil yelled, swimming faster out towards the floating dock in the middle of the lake. Daryl however was an experienced swimmer and was soon closing in on her. The thrill of the chase caused Sybil to start laughing and slowed her down in speed. Daryl slowed his pace, waiting for her to gain her wits and start moving faster again. Soon her hands were touching the dock.

“Damn, y’ got away,” he said, holding the edge of the dock with his hands. She splashed him playfully.

“I know you let me win.”

“Did no such thing.”

She giggled, “Okay… deny it all you want.” She caressed his damp cheek, “I’ll still give you your reward,” she moved closer and kissed his wet lips before pulling up onto the dock. Daryl could feel his stomach flip flop and his heart quicken in reaction to her affection. It was their first kiss. His cheeks reddened and he pulled up onto the dock next to her, their feet dangling in the water. He’d been pursuing her avidly for several months. His first thoughts of just wanting to bed the woman passed once he realized there was so much more to her than just a beautiful body. She had spunk, a clever mind, and kept him on his toes. He’d never met anyone like her before. Sybil seemed to enjoy her time with him, and this kiss just solidified what he was hoping for. He knew that other guys were trying to get her attention, he wasn’t blind. But the more she accepted offers of dates from him, the less concerned he became with them.

She laid back on the dock, the sun’s rays kissing her wet skin. Her hair spread out above her head like a dark halo. Her red one-piece showed plenty but left just the right amount covered to let the imagination run wild.

Daryl chewed his lip for a moment, “Sybil…”

“Mhm?” She hummed, shielding her eyes from the bright sky as she looked his way.

“’S a band playin’ at a bar next weekend. A local band… thought maybe y’all would like t’ go.”

“What kind of music?” she asked him curiously.

“Heavy stuff. Ain’t no room for country shit.”

She grinned, “You’ve got yourself a plus one then. I think it would be a lot of fun.” The idea of being squished in close to her was on his mind. He was still a man after all.

“Rememberin’ the good old days?” Maggie asked. Daryl stopped chewing his lip.

“Gonna go find somethin’ t’ do.”

Chapter 6: Scavenging Parts

“Hey, Daryl…” Jesus caught up with the archer after morning chores, “Eugene needs some parts for the solar panel he’s been working on and gave me directions to a place he thinks I can find those parts. Wanna ride with me, help me out?”

Daryl nodded as he finished brushing a horse down, “be ready in a few. Lemme finish up here.”

Jesus drove fast down the road. Daryl stared at the directions, “A bullfrog’s hop t’ the right of a… what t’ hell is this?” He asked, scratching his head.

Jesus laughed, “It’s directions. Eugene wrote them.”

“F’ fuck’s sake. Two leagues past the old maple tree… ‘s a million maple trees out here!” He threw the instructions on the dashboard. Jesus smirked, “Don’t kill me. I wrote those just to tease you.”

“You bastard,” Daryl huffed, but smiled in the end, “figures. Where’s them directions at?”

Jesus pulled a paper out of his front pocket, “Here.”

Daryl read them quickly, “’s more like it.”

When they rolled up to the old rusty warehouse, Jesus cut the engine and looked over the list Eugene had given him. Daryl got out and started scouting for Walkers, and anyone else who happened along the way. He and Jesus cleared out a small group of the dead before breaking the chain lock on the door to head inside. Pigeons flew in the disturbed air kicking up dust and dirt. The men covered their mouths, Daryl quickly pulling his rag from his back pocket. He tied it over the bottom half of his mouth.  Both were silent as the grave as they passed through the large building in search of any trespassers alive, or undead. Once they were certain it was empty, they set out to find each of the things Eugene wanted. It took longer than they expected since neither knew where to start. Searching boxes, and reading labels… they’d found two of the five things before dark.

“Looks like we’ll be staying the night,” Jesus huffed, wiping the dust from his hands onto his pants.

“Mhm,” Daryl lowered his backpack and brought out some salted dried venison, doling out some pieces to Jesus.

“Thanks,” Jesus said as they sat on the cold cement floor.

 As they settled in for the night, Daryl volunteered to keep a watch out.

“T’morrow we hit them boxes upstairs. Can’t see shit now.”

“Agreed. I didn’t think this would be a two-day trip. I’ll just catch a few winks.”

(1 Year Later) “Sybil, get on over here, woman!” Daryl had called out over the heavy strains of guitar on the jukebox to his girl.

Sybil’s green eyes danced with merriment as she set her beer on the bar and made her way over to the young man who beckoned her. She laughed as he snaked his arms around her waist.

His nose brushed against her ear as he said, “Dance w’ me.” As if she was ever interested in dancing with someone else. She slid her palms flat against his chest as they moved to their own beat. It certainly didn’t match the fast drum solo in the Motorhead song. But finding their way to sway their bodies together had never been a problem. They began to sweat there under the hot lights, their friends milling around them. Some were dancing, others playing pool, and still, some just drinking and sharing conversation.

Daryl’s brother Merle was leaning on his old lady, licking salt from her neck as he downed another shot of tequila. He followed up with a lemon wedge from her cleavage as his loyal gang cheered him on.

“ ‘s get outta here,” Daryl said into Sybil’s ear, “ ‘s gonna get crazy t’night.”

“It’s well on its way,” she said, gripping his hand. They made a quick exit and soon were taking off on his bike. The wind whipped through Sybil’s untethered hair. The exhilaration from the cool air and the feel of her cheek against his back were enough to make Daryl giddy. He pulled up to her apartment and as he walked her to the door she stopped, key in her hand.

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now,” she spoke up, her eyes staring into his, “and you’ve been good to me, Daryl. Come inside. I want you to stay the night.”

His jaw twitched. He’d been excited for this moment, he wouldn’t deny it. But now that it was here, he felt a sense of pride. He’d spent his time getting to know her. There was still so much to learn. And tonight would be another lesson in the ways of Sybil.

There was no small talk as her roommates were already in their respective rooms sleeping. He hadn’t been in the apartment at night unless there was a crowd of sorority sisters having a party. He and Sybil preferred being out of the house and hanging out with his gang often. She closed her room door there in the dark and turned on a dim lamp next to the bed.

She smiled at him, walking close, her hands caressing either side of his face as they began to kiss passionately. His palms rested on the flat of her back, rubbing slowly up and down as their mouths opened to explore like so many times before. It was more intense though, with pure need behind each tongue lashing and twisting together. A small groan lifted from his throat as she stepped back from him. They stared at one another, the soft glow from the light accentuating her features. The shadows delved into her curves and along the line of her legs.

“Help me out of this skirt, will you, Daryl?”

Daryl heard a noise that caught his attention. He went to investigate but seeing that it was a raccoon he shooed it away before walking the interior of the building alone. He placed a cigarette to his dry lips and lit it. Staring out one of the wide warehouse windows, he saw a few Walkers milling about near the truck. He puffed out some smoke and moved on toward the opposite end.

Sybil was more amazing than he could’ve imagined. Her body was perfection to him, and as she lifted on top of him, her hair swung down her back. He tangled his fingers into it before rubbing down around her ass while she ground her hips on top of him. He breathed as if through honey, labored, and sweet. As she rubbed his chest, a little pout curled on her lips as she neared the height of pleasure, calling out to him. He rolled her to her back, taking her breath away as he kept the rhythm up, bringing her to orgasm. He came in sync with her. He looked down at Sybil, the sweat beading on her forehead, their wet bodies sticking together, and he felt something he’d never felt before – fulfilled.

“Kiss me…” she gasped, still feeling the aftershocks of their lovemaking.

“Ain’t gotta ask, Syb…” He lowered his mouth onto hers, sucking her lips slowly, delightfully before withdrawing. He lay back, his chest still heaving as she lay her cheek upon it, listening to his fast heartbeat. He opened his legs, and she nestled her lower half between them, her stomach resting on his groin, not uncomfortable. He rubbed her saturated back, fingers slipping in the sweat, her hair pasted to her shoulders and his chest. Their bodies fit together like an intimate puzzle. Their hands locked together, fingers woven tight, his free hand cradling her. It was at that moment he knew his heart belonged to her.

When the first hint of light came through the windows, Jesus was up. He and Daryl searched the remainder of the building and found the rest of the items for Eugene by midday.

When they got outside, the Walkers from last night were still wandering around the truck, and seeing the two men, started lurching towards them.

“Dammit,” Jesus uttered while Daryl shot the closest in the head and then pulled his knives. Jesus round-housed one right in the skull, its rotted head exploding from the connection. Daryl took out two, a stab to the front of each temple, and Jesus took down the last one.

“ ‘ll drive,” Daryl said once everything was packed into the back of the pickup. Jesus tossed the keys to him. On the drive to Hilltop, Daryl was reliving those moments with Sybil still. Waking up with his legs wrapped around hers, her body still on his. He could almost feel her warmth, smell her perfume. He swerved almost hitting a Walker in the road. Jesus looked over at him, “Are you sure you’re up for driving?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” He sped up to get past the gathering herd quickly leaving them in the dust.

Eugene was pleased as he met the men getting out of the pickup.

“Did y’all find everything?” he asked as he pulled back the tarp over the parts. He went over the list and marked each item off, “Well done, you guys. I know these doodads don’t look like much, but when I get ‘em all put together, we’ll have some fine additions to those cabins y’all been working so hard on. Electricity! Creature comforts.”

“Glad we could help,” Jesus said as he and Daryl unloaded.

“Did you meet up with any trouble?” Maggie asked as she picked up a small box from the back.

“Naw,” Daryl responded.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Jesus added.

( 1 Month Later) Carver College

Daryl spotted Sybil and her friends in the throes of students in the cafeteria. She’d been pouring over textbooks for a test coming up in English Lit class. He breathed hot air on the back of her neck, “Hey babe.”

She smiled as she whispered, “Daryl…”

Mandy sniggered, “You two are something else.”

Daryl kissed Sybil lightly and slid into the chair next to her.

“Where have you been?” She asked in a hushed tone. She hadn’t seen him in four days. No explanations, no phone calls, “I was worried about you. I thought something might have happened to you!”

“Naw, no need t’ worry. ‘M here now.” He rubbed her hand slowly.

She picked up her books and excused herself from her circle of friends. Daryl grabbed them to carry for her. Once they were outside she turned to him, “Where have you been?” She asked him again, “You just disappeared.”

“I had t’ go outta town w’ Merle.”

“To do what?” She asked curiously.

He shrugged, “Just some odd errands, ain’t no big deal.”

“Daryl, it’s a big deal when you’re dating someone, and you just disappear. What if something happened to you?”

“Syb… don’t need t’ keep tabs on me. Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen t’ me.”

She frowned, “I’m not keeping tabs. Why are you keeping secrets?”

Chapter 7: Unavailable

The deer was finally ready to process. Many offered to help him, but he kindly rejected those offers. He wanted to work alone and get things off his mind. His memories were flooding in and he couldn’t build the dam fast enough to keep them at bay. It was close to the time of year when he first met Sybil. Even though people referred to parts of the year by the period of Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, Daryl knew it was around June. He felt it in his heart, and thoughts of Sybil were at their pinnacle. He sharpened his knife on a whetstone til the blade could slice easily through the meat, and as he removed the hide, he halted suddenly.

(6 Months Later) Sybil looked up from the bed, “Where are you going, hot stuff?”

He zipped his jeans, “gotta go outta town f’ a few days.”

She sat up, slipping on one of his t-shirts, “where? You never say.”

“Nothin’ y’ need t’ worry y’self over, Syb.” He rubbed her shoulders slowly, “Y’ won’t even have time t’ miss me.” He kissed her lips.

“Your brother is a troublemaker. Why do I have the feeling you two get up to no good when you’re gone?”

He shook out his head and started working the hide again, bound to have the hide salted and stretched before dinner. His workworn hands rubbed the salt into the thin layer of skin remaining, and as he was stretching it, he could smell dinner. His stomach rumbled.  He covered the meat with an old tarp and went to join the others.

That night he sat by the campfire longer than most. The dog was sleeping by his foot, basking in the heat from the flames.

(One Year Later)  Daryl knew it was late. It was nearly one. He’d been out fucking around with his gang, causing a ruckus, getting into a fight with another gang, and then Merle suggested they all go out for drinks. Daryl had a few and lost track of time.

“Shit, I gotta go!” He told his brother.

“What? Why?”

“’S Sybil’s birthday. ‘M late.”

“You’re so whipped. Hell, she’ll have another one next year.”

“That ain’t the point!” He said goodbye to his friends and rushed out to his bike. When he got to Sybil’s apartment, he could see the windows were dark. He pulled the present he had messily wrapped out of his saddle bag and went up to the second floor. He knocked on the door, and Theresa answered.

“What are you doing here, Daryl? Don’t you know how to tell time?”

“Jus’ wanna see Syb… don’t need y’all givin’ m’ a hard time. Lemme in.”

“Why don’t you just go and try to make amends tomorrow? You’re on her shit list you know.”

“Who’s at the door?” Sybil called out behind her. Daryl looked over Theresa’s shoulder and saw Sybil tying up her silky robe.

“Syb… ‘s me. I wanna come in.”

“I’ve got this Theresa…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you go on back to bed.”

Daryl ducked his head in shame, “Happy Birthday.” He held out the gift. Sybil’s hands were on her hips.

“Kind of late for that. My birthday was yesterday. It’s nearly two. What happened?”

“Got caught up w’ the boys. I lost track o’ time s’ all.”

“Oh, that’s all huh? My birthday didn’t matter much to you then, did it?”

“That ain’t true.”

“Sure it is. If you cared, you’d have been on time. You get with those guys and forget everything.” She pulled him into the room, and looked at him in the light, “And what the hell happened to your chin?”

Daryl instinctively touched his jaw. He must’ve gotten a bruise from the fight.

“You’ve been fighting again?”

“Weren’t much o’ a fight,” he half–laughed, “We got ‘em good.”

She stared at him angrily, “I can’t believe you’re missing the point here.” She wiped tears from her eyes, “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“What? Y’ breakin’ up w’ me?!”

“Yes, I am.”

“Because m’ late f’ y’ birthday?”

“You just don’t get it. You didn’t show up. You didn’t call. And when you finally do show up you don’t feel one inch of remorse for it all.”

“Said I was sorry, Syb. Don’t be like that.”

“No, you didn’t apologize. You bragged about a fight. I don’t want to be a part of this. I expect more from the man I care about.”

He wiped his eyes, blaming the smoke from the fire, and decided it was time to head back to Alexandria. He’d leave as soon as he finished preparing the meat for Hilltop.

Chapter 8: Camping

Daryl waited a couple weeks for Sybil to cool off after their split.

“You’re better off without her baby brother. Now you ain’t tied down to one woman, you can date any y’all want.”

“Don’t wanna date anyone else. I want Sybil,” he muttered, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. He turned over the engine on his bike, bringing it back to life after its tune-up.

“Well she don’t want nothin’ to do with your sorry ass. She thinks she’s too good for ya! There’s plenty of other bitches that are interested in ya.”

“She ain’t a bitch, Merle. She’s different than them other girls.”

“Ooh, are you in love, pussy?”

“Why am I tellin’ y’ anythin’?” He put his tools away, and said, “Goin’ out f’ a bit.”

“Go on then, run back to that highfalutin’ uptown bitch. She must have some sugar ‘tween her legs to keep ya comin’ back to her.”

He showed up at Save A Lot where Sybil worked. She wasn’t at the cash register, but he found her stocking shelves as he searched the aisles.

“Hey Syb…” he said as he approached. She stopped marking canned goods with the pricing gun and looked in his direction.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came t’ apologize. M’ sorry I was such a dick.”

“Are you? Because I have the feeling that the sort of thing that got you in trouble with me in the first place is going to keep happening.”

“Naw… it ain’t. What can I do t’ make y’ change y’ mind?”

She huffed, “You need to stop fighting. I knew full well you were in a gang when I met you. But I don’t think I realized what that entailed.”

He reached out and touched one of her curls, wrapping it around his finger, “I can stop fightin’.”

“Yeah, right,” She rolled her eyes.

“I can,” he insisted.

“Prove it.”

“I will. Supposed t’ be a lil’ somethin’ on Friday. ‘ll come an’ see y’all instead. Maybe I can help you study…” he leaned his arm against the shelf, keeping close to her, “what d’ ya say?”

“Give me a week to think things over. Stay out of trouble until then. I refuse to have a boyfriend that will probably end up in jail. You’re better than that.”

He screeched to a halt on his bike. Right in the middle of the road. 

“Can’t go back to Alexandria.” He felt a tightness in his chest, “Just can’t. C’mon.” He veered off the road and pushed his bike into some bramble to hide it.

He and Dog made their way deep into the forest around them. He knew the area well. He retreated towards a long winding river that cut through a clearing and set up a little lean-to between two trees and dug out a hole for a campfire. He set up a perimeter and fashioned a spear from a sturdy branch to go fishing. He and Dog ate a fine catch of fish for dinner.

He lay back against a log and stared up through the tree branches as the stars peeked into the holes between the leaves.

Three months later, they were back together. It took him that long to convince Sybil that he was staying out of trouble. He hung with the gang but skipped out when any brouhahas took place. His brother and friends didn’t let him live it down. He took the brunt of their brutal teasing, keeping his focus on what he really wanted, Sybil.

He watched as Sybil tried to figure out the instructions to the tent she’d brought on their first camping trip. It was early Autumn, and the weather was still pretty warm. He snorted, “Don’t need that booklet. Didn’t need no fancy tent neither.”

“I wanted it to be special,” she huffed, “and I can’t make heads or tails of any of this.”

He walked over, grabbed the instructions, and tossed them in the fire.

“Hey!” She laughed, “How do you expect to set up this tent then?”

He set to work, “Syb… pull them ropes your way.” He handed her a spike, “Stick ‘em in the ground…”

He pulled the other side and did the same. He put together the supports inside, assembling the tent in no time. She smiled proudly as she looked at the results.

“I knew you were good for something,” she teased, messing with his short hair.

That night after hot and heavy lovemaking, they went skinny dipping in the river not far from their setup. She shone under the moonlight, her body dancing with the beads of water dripping down her shoulders, over her breasts, and into the water at her waist. Daryl joined her and as they made out she said, “I could stay here forever.”

How he wished he had.

Chapter 9: The Thick of the Woods

Daryl spent weeks wandering the woods. He’d become so silent, he didn’t even need to call Dog, Dog just knew when to come. He’d gone a longer distance with each day, following the river downstream. He’d passed some small makeshift cabins and checked them out. Even spent some nights in one or two of them. He fought Walkers. Trudged through a downpour. Played with Dog in different clearings they happened upon. They lived off fish, rabbits, squirrels, wild yams, and leeks.

(2 Years Later) Sybil and Daryl got an apartment together. They’d been together for well over four years, and things just fell into place. They were happy, content with life. She was in her fourth year of college, she wanted to be a teacher, and Daryl was working for a local garage fixing just about anything with a motor.

“C’mon Syb… y’all get that cute ass in here. ‘ll help y’ study.” Daryl wanted to be as supportive to Sybil as he could. Even when he didn’t understand what he was quizzing her on, he felt proud of his girl for being so smart.

“If I don’t know it by now, I’m never going to know it.”

“C’mon ‘s the hard stuff, Early Childhood Development,” He held up the book, “We’re gonna go over t’ ones highlighted. Y’all got the rest down pat.”

“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in the air.

“Listen… ‘s somethin’ y’ really want, right?”

“Yes,” she answered, her eyes locking with his.

“Then y’ gotta put the time in. ‘S been four long years, but ‘s almost over. Don’t give up.” He squeezed her hand gently as he leaned in to kiss her.

“What would I do without you?” She asked, rubbing his scruffy cheek.

“Fail t’ damn test,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. They both laughed, “Right. Question one…”

He smiled at the thought, on how she graduated in the top five of her class. He’d liked to have thought he was part of the reason for that, if she wasn’t so smart to begin with. Still, it was some of his favorite time back then, watching her mind work, the way she’d bite her tongue and look at the ceiling while she thought about her answers, and how she loved to be rewarded with kisses.

One evening, just before dusk he heard a scream. Another voice was yelling, “Over here… this way!”

Heavy footfalls, groaning, and growling. Walkers. He followed the sounds and before crashing through the brush, he surveyed the situation. About ten Walkers were surrounding a couple of women and a man. They were fighting the Walkers pretty well, but there were too many. Daryl aimed his crossbow, clipping one Walker in the head about to bite the man’s shoulder. He fell to the ground. Unsure of what happened, the people continued to fight. He unsheathed his two knives, broke through the brush, and took two out, slicing another at the knees. One of the women brought down a knife into its brain. The other woman shoved a Walker into a tree and split its head with a machete. Three more to go. The man was backing up, looking to see if there were any more, turned around, and got one mere moment from attacking him. Daryl wiped the blades on his filthy pants and looked at the people quickly.

“Thank you,” one of the women breathed, “I don’t know if we could’ve made it without your help. Imagine finding another living soul in the woods.”

Daryl nodded as Dog sniffed around for any other threats. The woman with the cleaver was kneeling, cleaning her blade on one of the Walker’s shirts.

“Yes, thank you.” She stood up and turned to face the man, “we wouldn’t have made it.” She brushed an arm across her grimy face and said, “Do we look as bad as you do?” She smiled at the light joke. Daryl did a double-take. He squinted his eyes and studied the woman closely. She wasn’t anything to look at from first glance being road worn and ragged. But he saw those mystifying green eyes he’d never forget.

“S… Sybil?” His voice broke from being quiet for so long. It sounded foreign to him.

“How do you know my name?” She asked, eyeing the stranger. He was caked in mud, grungy from head to toe, long filthy hair pasted to his dirtied face.

“’S me…” was all he could muster taking a step closer. The woman looked deeply into the man’s eyes.

“Syb… ‘s Daryl…” he patted his chest.

“Daryl?” Her eyes widened. With sharp analysis, she determined that under that mess was the man from her past when everything was right in the world. Her throat closed as she stood stone still. The air was so thick, no one spoke, but everyone was bewildered that Sybil could find someone in the middle of nowhere that knew her.

There was movement behind her and a voice, “Mom? Is it safe to come out?”

For Part Two Click Here

[honeyedboneset]

NOTICE: This post is under construction as of aug 17, 2024. it is not up to date. hello! i'm boneset (or bone). thanks for stopping by my super-specific search thread! if interested, please leave a reply or dm me!

a bit about myself: she/her. I'm currently in my late 20's and have been writing/roleplaying in some shape or form for 12+ years. i'm in grad school (and will be for awhile) and work full time in mental healthcare. occasionally, days are wild. 

when it comes to writing, i generally write somewhere between 500-1k words a post. the shorter the post, the faster i can write. i definitely value someone who's writing fits with mine over length or anything like that. i'm also super flexible when it comes to post rate. if it takes a little bit, that's totally fine! especially if we do build a rapport. i want this to stay as something that's fun for both of us. it's a hobby, so it comes after everything else.

doubling. i play a canon for you, you play one for me, and i love every character as my own. OR we both play two ocs who fall in love against their will. Idc.

m!canon x f!oc preferred (or m!oc x f!oc). I know who I am. I have no shame. I’m so super cautious about m// and f// after years of running into folks treating it as a fetish.

ooc chatting. for the rps that have survived my hiatuses, it's been because we made friends, or at least friendly. i like talking, sharing head canons, all that stupid crap. tldr: i need someone to send memes to.

ooc over discord, please, after we’ve graduated to that. DMs first if you don’t mind.

email, discord, gdocs, and tumblr in order of preference for the roleplay but I'm open to any.

i am a sap for romance. less so for super slow burns. sue me. I can barely read slow burn much less write it.

500-1000 words is my sweet spot for responses, but i'm not that fast of a writer, depending on what's going on. see: why i like ooc.

hard limits: be 18+ (21+ preferred) | will not write with people who identify as male (he/him) | incest | fetish stuff | abo | pwp | pedophilia | furries/beastiality | explicitly written sexual assault | abusive relationship dynamics between main characters | heavy substance abuse | main settings being medical | most highschool settings/underage characters | genuine love triangles or infidelity between main characters

pairings and all below the break!

for fandoms, I’m going to list what I’m looking to play the oc in. I am super duper happy to play nearly any canon character for you.

the walking dead:  ＊i haven't seen the spin-off series. super comfortable going as AU as we want. ＊looking for: glenn (pls pls pls), daryl ＊will play: rick, daryl, shane, negan, others probably ＊some vibes: people who knew each other prior to the zombies meeting each other again after, dead rising vibes, traveling through the wilderness, overgrown and rundown towns and cities, towns that have gone mad, human enemies, natural threats, fluff, megamalls, amusement parks, adventure, horror, fluff, uneasiness in the calm, found family, hesitant allies

the last of us: ＊i've played both games and watched the show ＊looking for: tommy miller, m!oc ＊will play: joel, ellie, others, m!oc ＊some vibes: FIX IT JESUS, protecting family, human enemies, natural threats, antagonistic towns, lost in the wild, weird periods of domestic easiness followed by hurt/comfort hell red dead redemption: ＊i've played rdr and rdr2. kind of familiar with revolver. ＊looking for: charles smith ＊will play: arthur, john, dutch, others (but not micah) ＊some vibes: railroad turmoil, dutch has lots of plans (very little outcomes), high society meets the old west, running from the law, causing problems, adventures in the big city, trying to leave old lives behind, forbidden love, enemies to lovers

fallout: ＊i've played 1, 2, 3, 4, 76 & NV. mainly looking for nv. ＊looking for: m!oc ＊will play: ask for canons, m!oc ＊some vibes: causing chaos in the wastes, embracing the local cryptid status of the player character, toxic people everywhere, attempting to survive, mercenaries, prostitutes, salt of the earth managing to do some good against their will, traveling to other locations

original(ish) story vibes:

zombies! please zombies. love it. media inspo: l4d, deadrising, resident evil, twd, george romero

fantasy. royalty, pirates, mermaids, adventures, curses, and extra doses of romance. some assassins? hiding from responsibility? childhood friends to lovers and enemies finding common ground. media inspo: ACOTAR, lord of the rings, ever king, damsel, fire emblem, (for modern of these vibes) new protectorate by abigail kelly

urban fantasy vibes. witches and monsters, and romance and weirdness. maybe some monsters. eldritch beings. small town, rural america? media inspo: x-files, teen wolf, supernatural, stay a spell by juliette cross, scooby doo, being human, folk haven by lauren connolly, old gods of appalachia

cowboys! Modern? Traditional? I do not care i love cowboys and the south, just minus all of those….you know, issues. media inspo: red dead redemption, man from snowy river, yellow stone, lyla sage books

[steamed-ham-moved]

𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫

SUMMARY ➣ France releases an airborne virus designed to eradicate all Cryptids. It ends up having the opposite effect… Kagura wants to be left alone, but that might not be possible when she meets Max, then Negan.

╭┄┈┄────────❍•

│Negan & Max X fem OC, somewhat slow burn

│TWD CRYPTID AU

│Warnings - NA

│Multi-chapter(ed), somewhat slow burn

│ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

╰┄┈┄──❍•

[sav1ored]

🍒 Don't roast me too bad bestie 🫶

send  me  ���  +  a  url  and  i  will  write  positivity  for  them. || @twiicetheheart

//. where do i even begin to say when it comes to my lovely michi ? i already told you i've been lurking on my old ass ramsay blog stealing aesthetics/musing that are negan relatable --- but I've also realized I've come across fond moments between us, can you believe that we've also known each other since around 2017 ? At least that's what it shows when I find things of us back in my many ramsay blogs. BUT WOW ! I was shook by that cause I didn't realize how long it had been ?!

But let's start with just how fantastic you are inside and outside. HOW MUCH I ADORE YOU AND HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU--- yes you know why, we don't have to speak of that. LMAO. I am just happy to have you in my life, always. My fellow Virgos sita for life, always. I hope you know that no matter what, you always had/have a place in my heart and have brought so many beautiful memories into my life that I am thankful for. And I do cherish to this day. And we have so many more memories to create between us, all the food places we can eat LMAO ! Also the ribs matt already promised to make us. UGH--- I'm already drooling at how much food we can pig out together. And also I'm hoping when we go see a horror movie together, we get it all to ourselves like we did when we watched Annabelle xD ! I found my old post talking about that and how we got sushi before the movies. I was like LOOK AT US always getting food even back then AHAH !!! Where is our restaurant au LMAO xD xD ! Or food blog au AHHA !

Seriously though let's also mention how precious your oc is, and how much I adore her, and how much I live for her. She's so perfect, you can tell just how much love you put into her, how lovely she is--- and how much love she brings out of my muses. like negan and Soldier Boy for example. I MEAN FIRST OFF--- soldier boy x Michelle came out of nowhere OMFG--- like in started out at a coffee shop, to a hug and now I'm like.... damn just kiss already-- I TOLD YOU I WAS BAD A SLOW BURNS AHHA. No but that's the fun part of finding someone you roleplay with and having chem with them and their muses ! cause obviously I love the way our muses just work together when we write--- it just flows beautifully, I'm honestly thankful to have you as one of my fave rp partners on here, and it's an honor to write with someone as amazing as you, it's an honor to be able to call you one of my close friends, the fact the connection is still there just goes to show how strong our friendship was/ and still is.

I love you so much. Never change, and keep being amazing, and keep making me sob with our things or with yours and jen stuff. cause I love y'all so much. <3

[to-pick-ourselves-up-7]

I posted 1,021 times in 2022

That's 141 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (1%)

1,013 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fromtheboundlesssea

@dedalvs

@wildestheart4ever

@genevievedarcygranger

@greghouse

I tagged 669 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#celiaverse - 151 posts

#a marked queue - 146 posts

#jonsa - 85 posts

#jonsa fic - 82 posts

#house of the dragon - 48 posts

#hotd - 42 posts

#family duty honor - 40 posts

#celia tully - 39 posts

#jaime lannister x oc - 37 posts

#jaime lannister - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 122 characters

#because the targaryens have been preaching that they are different thanks to king jaeharys for like 70 years at this point

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The Marks of Running Ink pt.89

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: Peace had a way to be boring and exciting at once, for Tory Miller, it was lonely until it was not. Her life was about taking it slow, one day at a time.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: If you haven't read chapter 88, you should, I'm updating the last three chapters at once. This is the official ending of The Marks of Running Ink, but a short epilogue comes after with major warnings. Thank you so much for being here.

•••   •••   •••

Peace

Alexandria, VA.

She was waiting for him outside the cell.

A little, wry smile on her lips as she set her eyes on him.

"Hey, old man," she greeted him.

"I'm your father's age, Tory."

"And I call him old too."

He chuckled and she did too.

"What now?"

She made a gesture for him to follow.

"We go home."

Negan had not been or felt at home in so many years. He'd lost the people he considered home, over and over, but now he was being offered another chance, probably the last one. The summer breeze was kind, fall would come soon enough, considering the color of the leaves.

"There will be rules, Negan, important rules to follow," Victoria told him as they walked. He was in no hurry, and she didn't seem to be in a hurry either. "I have a child."

He stopped, frozen, right in the middle of the street, his feet glued to the dusty asphalt.

"A child?"

Tory looked at him and nodded.

"You said that you and the good doc–"

"She isn't Rhodes' kid," his soulmate interrupted.

He blinked, feeling like a fool as he did, watching Victoria as she looked at him.

"Her name is Ella," his soulmate said. "Ella Henry Jones."

"You gave a girl a boy's name?" He asked, not hating it.

"I thought I would die, you know? No epidurals at the end of the world, Negan. Lots of blood, I was stupidly scared."

He laughed and was finally able to move again.

See the full post

1 note - Posted November 23, 2022

#4

The Marks of Running Ink pt. 88

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: Peace had a way to be boring and exciting at once, for Tory Miller, it was lonely until it was not. Her life was about taking it slow, one day at a time.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: I thought I'd never finish this story, but I guess it's time to close this chapter of my writing life. I hope you'll enjoy it. Much love to you, who helped me get here.

•••   •••   •••

Peace

Alexandria, VA.

The children were running free again.

Tory smiled and sat down on the steps, on the spot that she was wearing down after almost a decade… Even when her Dad was alive, Tory had sat down on the same spot. God, some things never changed.

“Mama!” her eyes turned up from the book she had on her lap. Ella had come up all the way to the bottom of the stairs, her tiny hands were full of tomatoes.

Again.

“Did you raid another garden, Peanut?” she asked, wondering who she’d have to apologize to later in the day or in the morning.

“No, mama, Vera!”

Ah.

“Aunt Vera, Peanut,” she told her daughter, knowing her words would fall in tiny, deaf ears. 

Her daughter nodded with a radiant toothy smile that was eerily similar to her father’s smile, making Tory’s heart ache. Standing up, she set her book down and went to her little girl’s side.

“Should we make some tomato sauce, Peanut?” she asked her little girl, knowing she wouldn’t say no. Tory had been planning on making sauce for a few days now, she had been gathering the jars to boil and the spices to use. She had Carol’s homemade pasta recipe too. 

“Yes!” the tomatoes fell from her hands and Tory sighed. “Are we gonna give some to Luc and Martha?”

“Yeah, Peanut, we will.” Good Lord, she needed to break Ella’s habit of calling the adults by their given names, then again, she didn’t have much interaction with the children in Alexandria, who weren’t many either, despite Vera and Chase moving to Alexandria after the whole Whisperers debacle.

“Come on, Ella, let’s get these tomatoes crushed.” 

At times, Tory missed Gabriel and the sort of camaraderie they had formed when he had lived under her roof. They would never see eye to eye in certain things, but they were friends, even if not the best of friends.

"Mama, are you going to tell me about Papa again?"

She chuckled at her little girl and nodded.

"Of course, Peanut. He was the biggest jerk I ever met."

Her little girl giggled at her words and Tory smiled, knowing she would get that reaction no matter what. Sometimes, Tory dreamed of a different outcome, she dreamed of a different life. She wondered the what ifs of a life where the dead never rose. 

Maybe one day, she would grow out of it.

"That's a bad word, Mama."

"It is, but the word I was thinking about is worse, Ellie."

See the full post

1 note - Posted November 23, 2022

#3

All for you, every time

Joanna Lannister knew things. She liked knowing things, as did all of her siblings, they were like that -according to her father- thanks to their mother. She had certainties and one of them was that she was in love. There was absolutely no way she'd ever reveal such feelings. Absolutely not.

@fromtheboundlesssea

For FDH Week 2022

Prompt: Oct-18—Favourite Ceime Child.

It's technically October 18 since eighteen minutes ago my time. I hope you enjoy it.

There are so many time skips, lol.

5 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

#2

●●Masterlist●●

The Walking Dead

The Marks of Running Ink (AO3)

So it goes

The tiny tomato

Far from my arms: One, Two, Three

The silence around it

The only way that I can be

From the Raise Hell and TMoRI universe: Both sides now

A Song of Ice and Fire

See the full post

5 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I say this with all my love @fromtheboundlesssea

11 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[deadveiled]

@savedpeople whispered: 5. do you prefer fast plots, pre-established relationships or slow burns? // 31. do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship? // 35. how would each of your muses react to someone flirting with them?

x. honestly??? gimme all of it lol. like seriously, i'd be willing to try any of them out. sometimes some moots will plot ships with me, others we'll wing it (which often ends up as the fast plots), and other times we'll just do this crazy slow burn until the moment they're practically screaming "I LOVE YOU" with their eyes as they make very direct and incredibly established eye contact. i did this on another blog recently but they ended up together after like a couple months, which i assume sounds weak as fuck in the greater slow burn community LMAO

xxxɪ. i have a blog where i write keith from voltron, and klance is a comfort ship of mine so whenever i find someone who's really into writing kl with me, i always end up soft as shit. i had a once very active moot (and tbf i'm not super active over there myself atm) and we'd basically write soft kl together at least once a day for a little while lmao. that was fun. also eef & their oc miyuu with carl. and also i had a great time writing with spider's negan xDDD

xxxᴠ. i feel like both rick and daryl wouldn't pick it up at first, they'd only understand after it happens a few times. carl and rosita, however, are both generally pretty good at detecting when someone's flirting with them. rosita's a lot more upfront about it, though.

[trashcanband4]

Therapy Sessions Ch. 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Pairing: Negan x oc (Kelly). Setting: The sanctuary. Warnings: ooc Negan. Word Count: 6,525

When Negan came back to her the next morning, instead of finding her awake and done with breakfast like usual, he found her still in bed. The covers were pulled up over her head to shade her face from the light coming in through the windows. He wanted to jerk the covers down and jolt her awake, but decided against it and sat down on the side of the bed and rubbed her shoulder. Kelly just grunted and turned away from him. “Come on, darlin’, time to get up. I didn’t bring you breakfast for it to go to waste.”

Kelly sighed and turned onto her back as she pushed the blanket down and glared at him. “Why do I find your voice so grating?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

“You can get out of bed willingly or I can make you.” he told her with a smirk. She just rolled her eyes and turned away from him. So, he wrapped his arms around her and threw her over his shoulder, stood up then sat her on her feet and tossed the blanket back on the bed.

“Seriously?” she asked as she pushed her brown waves out of her face. “What does a girl have to do to be allowed to sleep in around here?”

"Be deathly ill, which you are not." Negan answered then pointed to the plate of food. "Eat."

"Sir, yes, Sir." She sighed sarcastically and sat down at the table eating her breakfast.

"I have to go." Negan told her as he walked over to the door and grabbed Lucille. "Don't go back to sleep."

"No promises." She mumbled around a bite of scrambled egg.

"Exercise. It releases endorphins and will help you feel better." He advised and she shot a look up at him through her lashes. He tossed Lucille over his shoulder then left the room.

She was sitting at the table drumming her fingers on it in boredom when Negan walked in and propped Lucille up by the door then plopped down in the dining chair across from her. "Hard day?"

"Long day." He corrected. "Have you had dinner?" He asked and she nodded yes.

"Good. So have I and I'm ready for bed." He stood up and started taking off his jacket.

"I know you're tired," Kelly started and Negan looked at her out of the corners of his eyes, "but sleeping in pants has been really uncomfortable. Is there any way I can get a pair of sleep shorts or something?"

Negan walked over to his dresser, grabbed a pair of soft cotton navy blue boxers, made sure there was a button on the crotch then opened up another drawer and grabbed a long sleeved white shirt. "Will these work for now?" He asked as he handed them to her.

"I didn't mean you had to solve the problem tonight." She told him as she walked over and took them from him. "But yes, they will, thank you."

She expected him to turn his back, but instead he just raised a brow with a cheeky smile. Not breaking eye contact with him she pulled the white long sleeved shirt over her head and pulled it down, took her arms out of the sleeves of the shirt she was already wearing and pushed it up around her neck then put her arms through the long sleeves of the exterior shirt. Impressed, Negan watched her grab the underlying shirt that was bunched up around her neck, pull it over her head and toss it into the dirty clothes hamper in the corner.

Since Negan was bigger than her his shirt was like a dress on her so she was easily able to slip off her pants and replace them with the boxer shorts without showing anything. "Touche."

After he slid in beside her under his own covers minutes of silence passed, both of them knowing that the other wasn't asleep. “So tell me about you and Markus. You said things got really ugly between the two of you?” Negan struck up a conversation.

“Yeah, after we lost our daughter.” She answered.

“Darcy?” he asked.

She nodded then remembered that he couldn’t see her in the dark room. “Yeah, after we lost Darcy we really started drifting apart. We didn’t talk about stuff. He refused to talk about Darcy. We’d sleep in the same bed, but it was like we were miles and miles away from each other. I was grieving, we both were, but we couldn’t do it together, he wouldn’t let us do it together. So…I…turned to someone else for comfort.”

“Daryl.” Negan added quietly, making her brows draw together.

“How’d you know?” she asked, looking at him, only seeing the outline of him in the dark.

“Pieces weren’t hard to put together. Plus I noticed that Markus seems to hold a personal grudge against Daryl.” He answered. “Did you fuck him?”

“No.” Kelly answered and turned her eyes to the black ceiling. “Daryl was just there for me when I needed him. He and I were sitting on the porch swing. I was crying and Daryl hugged me and wiped my tears.”

“Aww.” Negan cooed.

“Yeah well, Markus saw us through the window of our house across the street and assumed we were kissing.” She said with a bit of anger in her words. “Even though I told him a thousand times that we weren’t making out, still suddenly I became a whore, a slut, a cheating cunt… So when he yelled these things at me so much that I finally snapped and threw a snow globe at his head I became a psycho bitch. From then on out it was his favorite thing to call me. After that the bitterness grew. He started making up things that didn’t even happen, like I wasn’t at the house with Darcy because I was off screwing Daryl. Or I didn’t give a shit about Darcy all I cared about was Daryl. Everything got blamed on me and Daryl when nothing ever even happened between us.”

“Well, all of that makes sense. Markus was pretty mad at the world when he ended up here. But he calmed down when-”

“I don’t care.” She interrupted him. “I don’t care who he is now, what he does for you or even if he’s found someone else."

“Okay, understood.” His gravelly voice whispered. “Goodnight, Dead Girl.”

“Goodnight, Negan.” She whispered back and soon, both of them slipped off to sleep.

The next morning as she slowly woke up she started to realize that something was different. Scent was the first sense to awaken and the masculine fragrance of sandalwood and cinnamon invaded her nose. Her half asleep brain thought that maybe Negan had lit a candle before he left. But then her sense of touch woke and she realized that a heavy arm was thrown over her waist and a warm body was pressed into her back. That's when her ears joined the party and the quiet soothing snores she recognized as Negan's hit her. As she opened her eyes she saw that her blanket was gone and she lay under Negan’s.

"How the hell did this happen?" She thought to herself. "Why is he still here?" She thought and when she tried to slide out from under his arm it just gripped her tighter. So she decided that the best thing to do was to just try to go back to sleep. That way if she did fall asleep it would be Negan’s move, not hers.

She didn’t go back to sleep and instead laid there hoping with everything in her that Negan would wake up soon and let go of her. His warm hand was pressed into her flat stomach and she tried to not even think about the long hardness that was pressed into her rear. She couldn’t decide if she loved or hated the intense sensations his touch, even over her clothes, was sending through her body.

Finally, Negan’s breathing started to change and she felt his body reacting to their position as he woke up. First his arm tightened around her then the hardness grew harder making her squeeze her eyes shut and bite her lip to keep from having an audible reaction. Soon his hand on her shirt covered stomach slid up between her breasts then down to rest on her arm. Warm breath skimmed her neck as he brushed his nose along the soft skin. She had been hoping he would move away when he realized how they had been sleeping, but he was doing the opposite.

No doubt he was trying to get a rise out of her, but instead of giving him what he wanted, what she so badly wanted to give in to, she simply took in a deep breath as one would do when bothered in their sleep and rolled over to lie on her stomach. She was surprised when he actually let her and even further so when he brushed her sleep mussed hair out of her face, slipped the backs of his fingers down her cheek then rested his fingers on her neck as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

Unable to resist, a content sigh left her nose as her eyes opened, instantly finding Negan's hazels that seemed to be taking in every feature and detail of her face. When they met hers he gave her a sleepy version of his signature dimpled smirk and a small sleepy smile flashed so quickly on her lips he almost missed it. "Was that a smile, Dead Girl?" His voice was normally a little on the gravelly side, first thing in the morning it was even more so and it only added to the sensations his touch was sending through her. In response she simply looked down at his hand on her face then back up at his eyes, giving him a little squint of hers that almost dared him to do more.

Not one to turn down a challenge, but at the same time not wanting to push her too far, Negan simply slid his hand down her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm to grip her hip before slipping his hand under the shirt to grip the curve of her waist and pull her closer. Now, with just inches between them, she could smell the warm spicy scent of him again. It, combined with the feel of his hand caressing the bare skin of her back, had her light headed, as if she'd drunk just enough alcohol to get buzzed.

Her hand took on a mind of its own as she lifted it and placed it on his chest, slipping her fingers through his chest hair. Testing and tempting her, he brushed her nose with his, drawing her eyes from his chest back up to his. She didn't pull away. So slowly, giving her all the time in the world to pull back and say no, he moved his lips closer and closer to hers. Their lips had just barely brushed when a pounding came from the other side of the bedroom door. The unexpected sound made her jump and pull away from him.

Negan growled as he took his hand off of her, threw the covers to the side, stood up then padded over to the door. "What the fucking fuck are you banging on my door for?" Negan practically yelled at whoever was on the other side.

"Its 11 o'clock and no one has seen you. We were worried that your psycho hostage had murdered you in your sleep." She recognized Markus's voice right off the bat.

Hearing him call her a psycho she snapped. With more speed than she used in a long time she hopped out of bed and stomped over to the door. Seeing the fury in her eyes Negan stepped out of the way. Half a second later the back of her hand collided with the side of Marcus's right cheek so hard he fell, catching himself with the door frame to stay on his feet.

Negan looked between them with raised brows, eagerly waiting to find out what Markus was going to say to his ex-wife. "K-Kelly?" He asked, blinking at her in confusion as she glared up at him. "You're the psy-"

"Call me a psycho one more time and I swear to fucking christ I’ll break your fucking neck and never think twice about it." She warned.

Marcus looked to Negan. "Boss, you gonna let her talk to me like that?"

"Yeah." Negan answered with a smile.. "Because after all the shit she's told me you'll be fucking lucky if you only get the iron." Negan said coldly as he placed his hand on Kelly’s stomach and pushed her back as he moved to stand in front of her. Markus’s eyes got big as he looked at Kelly where she stood off to the side of Negan. “You want to know what I learned last night?” Negan asked and Markus turned his big blue eyes to Negan as he shook his head no. “That you failed to tell me that Alexandria existed. A secret that cost me a whole fucking outpost of people!" Even Kelly flinched at Negan’s raised voice. Negan look at the second man standing behind Markus that Kelly hadn't even realized was there, "Get him out of my fucking sight before I fucking gut him right here and now."

Markus made a fast retreat and Negan slammed the door. Kelly didn’t look at him, knowing she probably made things harder for Negan. Because of her Markus was going to get the iron, whatever that meant, and Negan was going to lose the trust in one of his men.

When Kelly didn’t say anything, Negan turned to her. His anger hardened face softened as he looked into her eyes. "Well, this has been an eventful morning." He sighed and sat down on the foot of the bed.

Kelly ignored his statement and moved to her side of the bed where she grabbed her covers off of the floor. As she folded it she took in his bare torso and the tattoos and freckles that peppered his skin. "What's the iron?"

"You'll see." He answered as he glanced over at her, catching the way she was observing him. He didn’t say anything, just smirked at her.

“So you’re letting me out of this room?” she asked not getting her hopes up, she might have misunderstood him.

“Those fuck me eyes you keep giving me and the pure rage I saw right before you slapped Markus was enough to earn you the privilege of seeing the show later." He wasn't going to mention that if she showed any emotion later it would earn her even more. She watched as he pulled on a white long sleeved shirt like the one she still wore then turned her back as he switched his pajama pants for a pair of dark pants and a belt. "I want you to get dressed, fix your hair and put on some of that makeup I brought you." He told her as he shrugged on his jacket.

She nodded at him as he walked out of the door. With him gone she got dressed then tidied up the room. She was putting his clothes she’d borrowed in a basket when a man walked in with a tray of apple and orange slices and a neatly folded stack of clothes. "Negan requests you wear these today." He told her and she watched silently as he sat the tray and a stack of clothes on the table then walked out. So she grabbed a piece of fruit and popped it in her mouth as she sat down and pulled the notebook and pen out of the bag that Negan had given her.

“Dear Diary,” she started, then stopped to pop another piece of fruit in her mouth. “I thought I liked it here at the sanctuary. For some reason Negan is treating me better than everyone else, and I like it, but last night I learned that Markus has been here the whole time he’s been gone from Alexandria. I liked it here because I had no ties to anyone other than Daryl who’s being held in a cell away from everyone. Now things are getting complicated. I’m starting to feel again. For the first time since Markus walked out I don’t feel numb. All I feel is hatred for him. The man I once loved more than anything else in the world, I now hate more than the walkers that plague the world.” She paused to eat a little more then picked the pen back up and skipped a line. “Then there’s Negan. I’ve thought he was attractive from the get go, but now I can’t stop looking at him and sometimes, all I want to do is jump his bones. I shouldn’t want him… He murdered Glenn and Abraham in cold blood. Strangely I get why he did it. We murdered a whole slew of his people and he only took two of ours. He probably would’ve only killed Abraham if Daryl hadn’t punched him. I don’t blame Daryl, he was just reacting to what was going on around him and he didn’t know that it would cause Negan to murder Glenn. I can see why Negan runs things the way he does. People can be stupid and fear is the only thing that can get through to some of them. Fear is the only thing that can control people.”

She skipped a line then continued writing. “Negan, for some reason, has decided to help me, I didn’t think it would work, I didn’t think I could care about anything ever again. But he is slowly breaking down my walls and I don’t know what to do. How do I let him help me and not fall for him? He has wives for god’s sake. He is a leader and a dangerous one at that. Getting even more involved with him could be dangerous for not only myself but the others back at Alexandria. I thought I didn’t care about them, but I do. I don’t want anyone to die, but Rick isn’t going to just go with how Negan runs things and he will get people killed.” She signed off on the entry and closed the book.

After finishing breakfast she braided her hair into two French braids that hung on each side of her shoulders then smudged on some eyeliner, coated her lashes in mascara then added a touch of the tinted lip balm. She had dressed in the new clothes and was putting away her things when Negan walked in. He gave her an appraising gaze taking in the black pencil skirt, black wedge heels, and red, sheer lace long sleeved shirt that she wore over a black camisole. The smirk he gave her caused a blush to color her cheeks as she placed her hand on her opposite arm self-consciously. He shut the door and closed the space between them and looked down at her with lust veiled eyes. She noticed them slip down to her soft lips, taking in the tiny glitter in the glossy balm. "That lip gloss have a flavor?" he asked, his voice quiet and gravelly.

She licked her lips making him bite his bottom one. "Vanilla."

"Good to know." He told her then backed up and opened the door. "You ready to get out of this room for a little while?"

She nodded and walked over to him where he motioned for her to walk ahead of him. So she did then let him lead her to a big room where they both stood on a platform above the people. After banging Lucille on the yellow bars people kneeled. “Do I kneel or stand?” she asked Negan quietly.

“You can stand, Sweetheart.” Negan told her, not whispering back. She turned her eyes to Markus who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, next to a lit fire pit. “I just gave a speech about this shit last week.” Negan spoke loudly to the crowd. “I did not want to have to do this again.” He said as he started walking to the stairs and not knowing if she should follow she stayed behind. “But people keep breaking the rules. And again, why do we have rules?” Negan yelled.

“The rules keep us alive.” The crowd echoed back.

“That’s right. We survive, we provide security to others, we bring civilization back to this world. We are the saviors. But we can’t do that without rules. Rules are what make it all work.” Negan stopped on the stairs. “I know it’s not easy, but there is always work and there is always a cost. Here, if you try to skirt it! If you try to cut that corner!” Negan paused to laugh. “Then it is the iron for you.” Negan paused and let it all sink in before he said, “On your feet.” And everyone stood as Negan walked down the stairs.

As Kelly scanned the room she noticed a small group of women, dressed in fancy black clothing and heels with their hair done to match their upscale style. They were all giving her death glares. She assumed them to be Negan's wives.

"Kelly." Negan's voice drew her attention to him where he stood across from Markus. "Join me please." She walked down the stairs, hoping she wouldn't fall on her face considering it had been years since she'd worn heels. When she got close to her he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "What you're about to see is going to be gruesome. And Markus is most likely going to pass out before it's over. Is there anything you'd like to say to him before I get started?" She nodded so he stepped aside and motioned to her ex.

Kelly walked over to him, her heels against the concrete echoing around the silent room. Hate was clear in both of their eyes. "You…" she started pacing around the chair he was tied to. "I loved you with every...cell...in my being." She said, placing her fist over her heart at the memory. "But...that love is gone." She stopped walking and stood across from him, glaring down at him. "You starved it and stomped it so far into the dirt it couldn't see the light of day. Since that day that love has sat in that dark hole and festered into a raging hate," She walked over and leaned down, putting her hand on the back of the chair her nose almost touching his, "that burns so hot it is taking everything in me to not get that iron myself and burn that cold black heart from your chest." She stood up and turned her back on him. "Unfortunately, I have to assume that would get me into a world of trouble." She slipped her eyes up Negan's body to his eyes. "Correct?"

"Correct." Negan answered.

"So," She said with a sticky sweet, chipper voice as she whipped around and walked back over to Markus, "I'll have to settle for the satisfaction of watching whatever torture Negan has in store for you." She leaned down and whispered, "I hear it's going to be gruesome and honestly, I'm a little excited." She admitted with a smile and a wrinkle of her nose that Negan found incredibly adorable.

Markus looked at her with fear in his eyes as she walked back over to stand beside Negan. Finally Markus realized exactly what he had done to her, what he turned her into. Then it sank in that he was about to get the side of his face melted by a red hot iron.

"You done?" Negan asked with a smirk at her.

"That was a little long winded. I apologize." She told him quietly.

"Don't apologize, Darlin'." He told her as he stood up straighter. "This is a part of your therapy and honestly," he leaned over and whispered, "it got me a little excited." She bit her lips closed to keep from laughing. He passed her his baseball bat. "Keep Lucille company for me." He told her and she took it without hesitation. To keep the barbed wire from messing up her clothes she put the end of it on the floor between the toes of her shoes and rested her hands on the end of the handle.

She didn’t look at Markus, but instead watched as Negan put on a thick leather glove. “D.” he called and Dwight grabbed the red hot, old school iron out of the fire with a hook and handed it to Negan. “I’m sorry Markus, but you knew the rules. Secrets don’t make friends.”

Markus started breathing heavily through his teeth anticipating what was about to happen as Negan moved the iron closer and closer to Markus’s face until it made contact with his cheek and jaw. Markus screamed, never taking his eyes off of Kelly. Negan’s eyes were also on Kelly's, looking for a reaction. “Psychotic Bitch!” Markus yelled right before he passed out. All her face held was a smirk of triumph.

Negan removed the iron from his face, taking skin and meat with it. “Let Markus’s face be an everyday reminder to all of you and him that secrets are against the rules and will get you the iron in a heartbeat.” He called to the crowd then handed the iron back to Dwight. “He’s all yours Doc." Negan walked over to her, she picked up Lucille and he took it from her with a smirk. "Thank you, Darlin'." They walked in silence until they got in the room. “So, before I tied Markus to that chair we had a chat.” Negan started as she sat down on the end of the bed and he started taking his jacket off. “According to him you lied to me.”

“About what?” she asked, confused because she had never lied to Negan.

“He says that you did cheat on him with Daryl.” He said as he put his jacket next to her on the bed then pulled a dining chair up to sit across from her. “Now one of you is lying and I want to know who.”

Kelly sighed and rubbed at her temples. “I never slept with Daryl.” She answered, telling the truth. “Daryl was a listening ear and a good friend to me but it was never romantic. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me, but I told you before and I will tell you again. I don’t lie. Lies only further complicate what's already complicated.”

“I believe you.” Negan told her, staring at her with appraising, judging eyes. “I know what a cheater looks like, I don’t see that quality in you.”

Kelly gave him a small smile that lasted for a split second. “You wanted to know when I started shutting down?” she asked and Negan nodded. “I thought it happened slowly, that I didn’t just break and shut down all at once, but I did. I broke the night he told me that I was the most disgusting person that he’d ever met and he couldn’t stand looking at the woman who let his children die for a second longer. I cried for a full twenty-four hours, hating him and hating myself, missing my children.” She sniffled and quickly wiped at her eyes, taking away the tears before they could fall. “After that I never shed another tear.”

Negan slowly blinked at her sympathetically seeing more signs of her starting to feel again. Not being able to stop himself, he placed his hand on her cheek and swiped a tear away with his thumb. She gave him a small, sad smile as she placed her hand over his, reveling in his touch, before she pulled it away from her face. “He’s a douchebag.” Negan said, making her glance up at him. “He deserved every bit of what he got today.”

“Yeah.” She whispered then looked back down at his hand. She stroked her thumbs over the back of his hand, thinking about how she’d never been attracted to someone’s hands before. At the moment all she wanted to do was put it back on her cheek and let him have his way with her. Instead she said, “Okay change of subject, you ever had a hand massage?”

“No.” Negan answered with a bit of a smirk that suggested she was weird for asking. “Why?”

“Because you did me a favor today, you gave me a break from this room and let me get something out that's been bottled up inside me for a very long time. I studied to be a manicurist before I settled down." She slipped her thumbs down his pointer and pinky fingers, admiring how long and slim they were. "We were taught how to give hand massages. I would very much like to give you one. They feel really good and it's the only way I can think of to say thank you.” she said as she flexed his wrist with one hand then slid her other one up it aligning their fingers with their palm pressed to his.

“Really, that's the only way you can think of to thank me?” He asked with a big grin that was suggestive as shit. She just rolled her eyes then looked up at him through her lashes. “If you insist, sure, but it will have to wait until after I get done with the daily bullshit.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket off of the back of the chair. She found herself admiring his body as it flexed from him shrugging on the jacket.

After he left she sank down on the bed then leaned back, trying to figure out how she was going to not fall for him, considering he was the only company she had, when a sound came from the door and she turned to see a white piece of paper slide under the door with her name written on it. Curiously, she walked over and picked it up. “Meet us in the room at the end of the hall tomorrow at three.”

She stared at it, contemplating if she would really meet them or not, but after bouncing back and forth between yes or no, she decided that the only thing she could do was show the note to Negan. He was the only person she could trust. Anyone could have put that note under the door.

After the sun had set Negan finally came back, a tray of food in hand. Tonight was a simple meal of mashed potatoes and a small pork chop. She was quiet and didn’t look at him as he took off his jacket and sat down at the table across from her. When he started eating she picked at hers. “You wanna tell me what you're thinking about so hard over there?” Negan asked around a bite of potatoes.

Katie reached into her pocket and pulled out the price of paper. He frowned at her as she unfolded it then slid it across the table to him. "This was slid under the door while you were gone."

He picked it up and looked at it then put it back down on the table. "Why did you show this to me?"

"Because secrets don't make friends, obviously." She answered using his words.

"Did you want to keep it a secret?" He asked. "Did you want to meet with them?"

"No, of course not." She answered as if the questions offended her. "Your people saw me today. The women in the black dresses, they're your wives, right?" She asked and he nodded. "They don't seem to like me. For all I know this could be from them. They might be trying to rid you of the woman who takes up all of your nights."

"You didn't see who left it?" He asked.

She shook her head no. "I was too scared to open the door and look." She admitted.

"You don't have to be scared. No one is going to hurt you." He assured her. "Finish eating before it gets cold."

When they were both done, Kelly cleaned everything up and set the tray outside the door. When she turned around her eyes landed on Negan taking his shirt off. She averted her eyes to the floor knowing he was about to put on his pajama bottoms. When she looked back up, Negan held a shirt and a pair of light blue plaid boxers out to her. She did the same as she had done the night before and changed without showing him anything.

As he poured himself a glass of water she grabbed the tube of lotion out of her bag and sat down in the center of her side of the bed, crossing her bare legs. When Negan turned around and looked at her she patted the bed for him to join her. “Right, hand massage, I forgot.” He sighed as he walked over and set the glass of water on the makeshift night stand then sat down on the bed in front of her, mimicking her sitting position.

When he didn’t willingly give her his hand she sighed and picked it up. She started by massaging the underside of his forearm then worked her way down to his palm where she massaged a bit then stopped to add lotion. As she worked she made it a point to not look at Negan’s face. It was particularly hard to not look up when she ran her thumb from the bottom center of his palm to the base of his thumb and a breathy moan left his lips.

“You were right, that does feel good.” He sighed and she smiled to herself.

“I figured you could use it, considering you carry Lucille around all day.” She said with a glance at the bat that he had placed in the corner of the room.

“Are you calling my leading lady fat?” Negan asked with a playful tone in his voice.

Kelly faked a dramatic gasp. “I would never.” She placed a hand on her chest looking shocked that he would ask her that.

Negan actually laughed at her and she couldn’t help but look up at the bright genuine smile on his face. He stopped laughing when she started massaging again and hit the center of his palm making a deep groan rumble his throat again. She would be lying if she said she didn’t get a little turned on at the sound. Other than the occasional moan from Negan, the room was silent as she finished up his left hand. When she started on his right she looked up at him again to see him looking at her with lust hazed eyes. “Fuck, sweetheart that feels fucking amazing.” Negan laughed loudly. An electric wave shot from her chest through her every limb then settled in her core.

“Yeah, that’ll convince people we’re not screwing.” Kelly giggled a little, not looking up from her work.

“Well I am hard as a fucking rock right now.” Before she could stop herself her eyes moved from his hand to his crotch to see that he wasn't lying. The truth was there, long, hard, curved and begging to be let out of the confinement of his jeans. He didnt miss that she actually looked. “You should do my cock next. It's obviously begging to get a taste of your talented hands.”

Her mouth went dry at his words and as much as she wanted to look at his face she kept her eyes down and kept massaging. “I’m gonna have to refer you to one of your wives for that particular massage.”

“Damn.” He sighed and Kelly smiled. “Well, can’t blame a guy for trying.” She didn’t respond and instead worked in silence, making sure to hit all the spots that got reactions out of him on his left hand. When she was done, she glanced at his watch to see that it was almost ten o’clock. So she dropped his hand and finally looked up at him to see him smiling at her with closed lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She told him with a small smile in return.

While he got up and washed his hands Kelly spread their blankets out, splitting the bed between them then tucked herself under her cover. He turned the light off then did the same. As she laid there thinking about how she felt about Negan, how he made her feel safe and how every touch from him sent sparks through her, making her feel alive for the first time in years, her hand slid to the center of the bed, bumping into Negan’s where it was already waiting for hers. His hand slid over hers, and flipped it so her palm was facing up then brushed his fingertips over her palm sending a shock wave through her. She thought he was just teasing her until his palm met hers and he laced their fingers together. "So about this morning..." He whispered, making her chest tighten. "Did you like being close to me?"

"I did." She answered, her voice nervous and shaky.

He sat up, pulled her blanket off and tossed it to the floor then tugged his over her. "Get over here." The gravel in his whispered words told her that resisting wasn't an option. Even if it was, she wouldn't have. So she turned her back to him and intended on scooting over, but he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She rested her head on his pillow that his arm that wasn't around her was under. She tried to even out her breathing as he slid his hand down her arm then grabbed her hand when he found it. "Tell anyone I like to cuddle and I'll personally kick your ass."

"Doesn't sound very threatening coming from a man who likes to cuddle." She joked without thinking.

"My point exactly." He whispered harshly.

"Yeah yeah, you got a reputation to protect. No worries, my lips are sealed." She whispered. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you couldn’t kick my ass even if you had cause to."

"Did you forget who you're talking to?" He asked, if it hadn't been for the hint of amusement in his voice she would've thought that she pushed too far.

"No, but I don’t think you know who you're talking to." She answered being cocky.

"Oh yeah?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah." She answered with a smile in her voice.

"We'll see about that." He laughed and she wished that she could see his dimpled smile, but it was pitch black in the room. "Good night, Dead Girl."

"Good night, Savior." She whispered then snuggled her head into his pillow and quickly drifted off to sleep.

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Trapped - Part One

Summary: Dean meets his true mate. But his true mate feels trapped. Trapped in a body that isn’t theirs, with a biological need they didn’t ask for. Dean just wants to set them free.

Part Tags: mentions of feeling uncomfortable in your own body, mentions of transitioning, fluff, angst, Dean being adorkable

Part WC: ± 1K

Commissioned by: @outofnowhere82

A/Ns: Please message me to be tagged in this mini series! This fic is currently available to read in full when you subscribe.

Trapped Masterlist // Dean Winchester Masterlist

“Fuck, can you smell that?” Dean asks, holding his arm over his nose. And it’s not because the smell is unpleasant, per se, more that he could really do without going into a rut right now.

“That’s not just one, that’s several,” Sam points out. Not that Dean needed telling, the mixture of scents and heats is intoxicating, no matter how hard he tries to breathe into his jacket.

“Sonofabitch, don’t these freaks know what suppressants are?!”

“Maybe that’s what they do... You know, don’t take suppressants to lure Alphas in, and then feed off of them,” Sam offers. Dean can’t deny that’s fucking clever. But as they round the corner and get closer to the source of the nest, Dean clocks the cages with girls inside, most of them groaning in pain, sweating and begging for Alphas.

“On second thoughts, maybe the vamps are even worse than we thought,” Dean mutters.

One quick sweep with his eyes around the place and Dean can’t spot any vamps, only the human Omegas in cages, and as soon as they step into the room, all eyes are on them, and the begging and pleading only gets louder.

“How do we get them out?” Sam asks.

“Fucked if I know,” Dean grunts. His head is getting woozy, and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll last without being triggered into a rut. Before they can start looking for keys, a door opens down the hall and both brothers turn to look at the entrance, instinctively splitting up to guard either side of it.

“Why did you fucking pick the feisty one?” They hear echo down the hall.

“Get off me you sonofabitch,” Dean hears in response. He’s holding the machete, but the new scent he can smell is overpowering every other one of his senses.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be so brave when we finally get those suppressants out of its system.” But even with the suppressants, the Omega’s scent is still overpowering, and Dean can’t think about anything else.

Dean can just about make out Sam frowning over at him through his hazy vision, and he mouths something that Dean can’t make out. He instinctively just wants to step out and make himself known so he can see the Omega. The other Omegas are going crazy, but they’re the last thing on Dean’s mind right now. Sam reacts quicker than Dean, slicing the head off of the one vamp gripping the Omega’s arm, while the other on Dean’s side notices him and reveals his extra teeth. Dean’s knee jerk reaction should be to chop the blood sucker’s head off, but it’s not. His knee jerk reaction is simply… mine. The vamp’s head rolls to the floor regardless, and Dean soon realises that Sam had acted quick enough for both of them. The Omega that had been in the vamps’ grasp shrugs themself free and glares at Sam.

“I had it,” they grunt.

“You’re welcome,” Sam scoffs.

“No thanks to you,” the Omega turns and glares at Dean. Dean’s thrown off for a second that the Omega isn’t having the same very natural reaction that he’s having. Can’t they tell that he’s their true mate?

“This nest was mine, assholes. There were seven of them, you know.”

“Well you looked like you needed the help with the last two,” Sam explains.

“I didn’t,” they insist through gritted teeth. Dean watches the Omega – his Omega – bend down and retrieve a set of keys from the dead vamp’s pocket, heading over to a desk in the corner of the room. Inside is a drawer full of different suppressant bottles, and Sam takes his cue to help hand them out to the caged Omegas, who are nearly feral with heats.

“You gonna help or just stare at me like a freaking idiot?” The Omega asks, thrusting some bottles against Dean’s chest.

“I’m Dean,” he splutters out. The Omega straightens up, sighing heavily.

“Andy,” they reply after a moment. Dean smiles softly at the sound of their name.

“You can feel it too, right?” he checks.

“Feel what?” they blink. Dean scoffs, feeling a little awkward to be saying it outloud.

“We’re urm… you’re my… Omega,” he finishes.

Andy’s face sets a little harder this time, those walls they’d only just started letting down back up immediately.

“Listen here, Dean. I’m not your Omega, I’m not anyone’s Omega. I’m not an Omega, got it?” Dean frowns slightly, because now he’s confused. He can smell that they’re an Omega, so that just doesn’t add up. He nods regardless, not wanting to upset them further, and clears his throat, setting about helping the other Omegas in their cages to take the suppressants and calm down before they can release them.

“You two should probably leave, they’re jacked up on suppressants, but they’re still probably gonna try and rip you two apart. There’s another exit, I’m gonna take them that way, find them shelter until they’re out of their heats,” Andy explains. Sam and Dean look at each other and nod their heads.

“Can we help in any way?” Sam offers.

“Meet me at the bar across the road tomorrow evening, you can help me figure out how to get these girls home.”

Andy’s eyes linger on Dean for a moment, and a small smile graces their lips before Dean feels Sam’s hand on his shoulder pulling him backwards. Dean begrudgingly follows, but only because he doesn’t want to get mauled to death by a pack of Omegas in heat, and because he knows he’ll be seeing Andy again tomorrow night. His head is still in a bit of a daze though, even as Andy’s scent leaves his senses, and he and Sam get back outside away from the chaos. Dean glances back towards the entrance. Even if Andy apparently isn’t an Omega – which Dean is sure they are – they’re still his. Somehow he just knows it.

“Dude, what is going on with you?” Sam frowns, leading them to the Impala. Dean sighs, and he doesn’t want to sound like a teenage girl, but he can’t exactly ignore this.

“Sammy… I’m in love,” Dean grins. He expects more of a reaction than what he gets from his brother though, who just cocks an eyebrow and throws himself into the passenger seat of the car. Dean quickly follows. “Did you hear me?” Dean checks.

“Yeah, I heard you, Romeo,” Sam scoffs.

“I mean it, Sam. Andy is my true mate.”

Part Two >

Always and Forevers: @foxyjwls007 / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone / @warrior-angel / @impalaspixie / @sexyvixen7

* * *

Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @collette04 / @impala1967dwinchester / @blueaura / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @bobbie3939 / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @eve-loves-apples / @chocolateheart / @cluz1babe / @musicalraven100 / @iceythelostwinchester / @cutiecowgirl / @sacriceria / @pink-sparkly-witch / @justanotherficreader / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @idblamekate

[negans-crybaby-gangsta]

I have 15 chapters up. If anyone wants to read them on Wattpad. It’s a Negan X OC, in a AU. So you can read them there. Or I could publish them here if anyone wants to read them. My Wattpad is neganscrybabygangsta.

[walker-bait-1973]

8 Years Part Three

Part Three of the ongoing series with Daryl Dixon x Sybil Tremont (OC) Fanfiction

Background information: It’s assumed the reader knows the world of TWD. This Fanfic takes place after Alexandria, Hilltop, Oceanside, and the Kingdom are established and at the height of success. Carl is dead. The communities are bound by a doctrine created by Michonne. Rick is presumed dead. Daryl and Michonne never lost hope and searched for several years for Rick without luck. Daryl had a short relationship with Leah. The Saviors disbanded with Negan in a jail cell in Alexandria. The Whisperers have been defeated, and Lydia is a valued member of the Hilltop homestead.

18+

Warnings: Typical TWD Themes, Swearing, Drugs, Angst, Slow Burn

Masterlist

Part Two

Chapter 15: Walls

Just when Sybil didn’t think Ryder could take much more, the three came upon a small town.

“Nearly there,” Daryl said after a night of quiet. Everyone including him was depleted. Ryder perked up and squeezed his mom’s hand.

“Hear that? Almost there!”

“That’s great,” she tried to muster enthusiasm and continued to look down at her feet, forcing one foot in front of the other. With every step, the job became more laborious, and she had to finally stop. Her wound was throbbing, and her body dragging. Dog barked to grab Daryl’s attention.  

“Come on Mom… Daryl said we’re almost there… just a few more steps, please.” The boy looked desperately at Daryl who put Sybil’s arm over his shoulders and supported her encouraging her to keep going.

“C’mon girl… one more road. Look…” he pointed ahead. Sybil lifted her head with exertion and saw a tall metal wall in the distance.

“Walls,” she whispered.

“Just like I told ya.”

Sybil looked to her right, “Ryder… stay close.”

“I will,” he moved up and the three managed to make it to Alexandria’s gate.

Chapter 16: Open the Gate

From the guard tower landing, Michonne called down to Rosita, “Open the gate! It’s Daryl!”

Slowly the gate slid open. Rosita saw the strangers with Daryl and before she could ask he said, “Gotta get her t’ Siddiq. Ryder, c’mon…”

Rosita shut the gate while Father Gabriel supported Sybil on the other side until they arrived at the clinic. Siddiq opened the door when he heard Daryl yell.

“What’s going on?” Siddiq asked, “Lay her over here…”

Daryl swooped Sybil up onto the exam table while Daryl explained in not so many words what happened to her hip and how she was road worn. Siddiq drew the curtain, leaving Ryder alone. He pushed on the curtain, “Wait! That’s my mom!”

Daryl stepped from behind the curtain and knelt next to Ryder, “Doc needs privacy t’ look at that hip, ‘kay? Then y’ can see y’ Momma.”

Ryder nodded, “She’s gonna be okay right?”

Daryl nodded, “She’ll be fine. Jus’ like she told ya.” Daryl stood with Ryder while Siddiq worked. When he opened the curtain, Sybil was moved to a bed, covered from the waist down and an IV drip was in her arm.

“How is she?” Ryder asked anxiously, moving to her side. She smiled at him.

“She needed fluids, there’s not enough water in her body, and her cut is stitched up. Your Mom is going to be okay.” Siddiq smiled. Ryder held Sybil’s hand.

“You’re so brave,” Sybil remarked, “thank you for letting the doctor do his work.”

Ryder glanced in Daryl’s direction before Siddiq commented, “Can I look you over?”

“Please do,” Sybil insisted. Ryder sat down on a stool patiently, and Siddiq performed a quick exam. When he studied the boy, he paused and blinked twice before continuing.

“He’s dehydrated too… can I give him an IV?”

Sybil nodded.

“I’m going to put a little needle into your arm. It will be like a little pinch. Are you ready?”

Ryder stiffened his lower lip and nodded. Siddiq carefully inserted the catheter. Ryder winced, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be. Sybil watched him proudly as he took it like a champ.

“Why don’t you go over there and sit next to your mom?” Siddiq offered as the boy looked around curiously. He dragged a chair over for him and Ryder plopped down onto it. Daryl gauged their confusion over the things around them. He knew they’d been out there a long time; he just wasn’t sure how much. Glancing out the window, he saw a crowd gathered of his closest friends and decided it was time to go out and explain everything.

“Be back,” he said to Sybil as he went outside, closing the door behind him.

The entire council was there: Michonne, Aaron, and Gabriel. Siddiq, however, stayed inside to look after his patients. Carol quickly joined them.

“Who are they and where did you find them?” Michonne asked before anyone else spoke.

Daryl paused before explaining, “Found ‘em in the woods. I knew her… ‘fore this world.”

Everyone gasped, “You knew her before?” Gabriel asked incredulously. Daryl nodded.

“And the boy?”

“He's her son. Sybil n’ Ryder.”

Siddiq came out to update the curious crowd, “They’re both doing fine, just gave them some fluids. They’ve been through a lot just by the looks of them and need some rest.”

The group talked some more before Carol said, “Alright. Daryl probably wants to get back to his friend. Let’s leave them alone for now. There will be plenty of time to meet them later.”

As everyone dispersed Daryl’s face reflected gratitude. Carol rubbed his shoulder.

“You look like hell.”

He shrugged, “’ll be fine. Gotta go back in.”

She nodded, “We’ll talk later.”

“Mhm.”

Chapter 17: The Clinic

Ryder sat with a worn notebook resting on his lap, writing something when Daryl walked back in. Siddiq was checking the patients’ statuses.

“What’s that?” He asked, slowing the drip in the boy’s arm.

“It’s a list… of the people I’ve lost. I write their names down and something about them, so I don’t forget. We lost two friends on the way here. Gertie and Stan. “

Siddiq felt sad for the boy. To be so young and lose so much. He kept his thoughts to himself though and went on about his business.

Daryl pulled up a chair next to the bed, “How y’ feelin’?”

Ryder shrugged, “I feel fine.”

“What ‘bout you, Syb?” He called her by her nickname, and she peered up at him, her eyes soft.

“I’m much better.”

Suddenly the clinic door opened. A woman with short grey hair and a kind face walked in carrying something folded in her hands.

“Hi… I don’t mean to barge in… I’m Carol,” she introduced herself to the two, “But I figured you might want something to put on.” She held out the pair of pants.

“Thank you,” Sybil replied, “thank you, Carol.”

“Sure. Welcome to Alexandria.”

Sybil smirked, “What a way to make an entrance, huh? Half dead and losing my britches.”

Carol winked, “It will get the town talking, that’s for sure. We’ve taken in people that look worse than you two.”

“I feel sorry for them! I am Sybil, and this is my son, Ryder.”

Ryder looked up from his notebook. Carol was stunned when she saw the boy’s face. Her eyes gravitated towards Daryl, and he lowered his.

“Well, Ryder… when you and your mom get around to it, you can stay at my place. I have plenty of room. And I’ll bake you some cookies.”

“Cookies?” Ryder looked at his mom, “Like we had in those old boxes?”

“You can bake cookies here?” Sybil asked astounded.

“Sure, we run on solar energy. There’s so much to show you. But all in good time. Ryder, these won’t be the stale cookies you’ve had out there.”

Once Carol left Sybil said to Daryl, “Did I see houses?”

“Mhm. This was a new project ‘fore the Walkers. A man designed them sheets and everyone built up them walls. We been expandin’ ever since. You’ll see. For now, rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Ryder insisted, but his eyes were drooping.

“C’mon, let's get ‘cha in the bed next to yer Mama.” Daryl said softly, “Y’all need some sleep. S’ok t’ sleep here. Yer both safe.” Daryl moved the bed closer to Sybil and the boy lay on top of the blanket. He held his backpack in his arms as he rolled to his side to face his mother. His eyes fluttered, he fought to keep them awake.

“Go to sleep, Ryder. We’re behind walls.” She touched his hair gently, rubbing the messy mop of dirty blonde hair away from his face. When she was convinced he was asleep, she rolled her head to face Daryl. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of being safe, of being in a building that wasn’t surrounded by the dead.

“You should get some rest,” she said, concerned for Daryl’s well-being. There wasn’t a time she recalled him sleeping on their trek to Alexandria.

“I'm fine.” He wanted to say more. He had so many things on his mind to talk about with her. But now wasn’t the time. Let them rest. Find the right time. And then he hoped to know everything.

Daryl had searched everywhere for Sybil. He started with her friends. No one told him anything.

“Sybil wants to be left alone, Daryl,” Maria told him, “You screwed up. Big time.”

Daryl bit the inside of his lower lip, “It can’t be over.”

“It is,” Maria told him, “You just couldn’t be happy with the way things were, could you? You thought that damn drug money was more important than living a good life with the best woman you’ll ever find. She treated you like gold and you threw it all away.”

“You don’t know nothin’,” he said venomously.

“I know more than you think I do. You may as well forget about her. She’s gone.”

“Yeah?” His blue eyes reflected anger, “We’ll see ‘bout that.”

Daryl waited until the next day when school was in session to seek Sybil out. She was grading papers in the library while the kids were at recess. Once again, she was doing the work of the teachers along with her own.

Bleary eyed she looked up when he whispered her name.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, clearly upset. Daryl slid into the chair next to her.

“We gotta talk.”

“There’s nothing to say,” she answered, lowering her eyes to the papers in front of her. He caressed her wrist.

“Bullshit, there's a lot to say.”

“Shh!” The librarian hushed him.

Daryl held his breath for a moment, “Syb…”

She scooped up her papers and went into the hallway, “I don’t want to do this here.” She said as he followed her, “I had my say in the note. I’m done. All these years you’ve done so well. We had a life together. Things were really starting to move forward for us. But it just wasn’t enough for you, was it? It would never be enough. You’d always be thinking about the next deal that would make big money.”

“Syb I…”

“Go! Just go!” She exclaimed, drawing unwanted onlookers. She covered her face and ran into the girl’s bathroom.

 Chapter 18: Carol’s House

Daryl was nearly asleep as soon as Sybil closed her eyes. He had his arm propped up on his knee, resting his chin in his palm. Sybil’s eyes cracked open, and as if in a haze she saw Daryl sitting close, sleeping.

“About time…” she murmured in between dreams.

“Push, Sybil, push!” her old roommate Maria was encouraging the woman to bear down and push the baby out of her womb. Theresa was watching nervously out the window as people screamed and went running pell-mell all through the campus yards trying to save themselves from the rising dead. People were being torn into pieces right outside the window to their dorm.

“What’s going on? Are we still safe?” Sybil asked between breaths.

Theresa shut the curtains, “Never mind that,” she said abruptly, “You concentrate on that baby!”

“Oh god!” Sybil felt the wave of the next contraction as she held the sides of her bed.

“That’s it, push, push!”

“I can’t do it anymore,” Sybil cried, tears streaming down her face.

“That’s not true,” Mandy said, standing by the locked door, “You can!”

Sybil gave the hardest push she could muster.

“That’s it! I see the head!” Maria cried out holding up the sheet to cradle the baby when it was finally out, “One last push!”

Sybil bore down, gritting her teeth, trying not to scream, her body shaking, determined to have that baby. Without warning Maria was catching the baby in the sheet and quickly turned the newborn onto its belly. She rubbed its little back until the fluid came from its lungs. The baby belted out a loud howl, crying.

“Oh my god… my baby…” Sybil was holding out her hands, “is everything okay?”

Maria smiled as their two other friends joined them smiling and laughing.

“It’s a boy!” Maria wrapped the baby and placed the little one up on her chest. She held him tight, looking him over, forgetting about the hell around them.

“He’s perfect… my god… he’s perfect. My little Ryder…”

When she woke, Daryl was sitting upright again. He seemed pleased that she was moving around.

“Where’s Ryder?” She asked but was relieved to see he was lying on his bed looking through a book.

“Look what Carol brought me!” He held it as if it was made of gold, “She said they have a library here! Remember that library we stayed at with Maria, Mitchell, and Theresa?”

She smiled sadly, “I remember. We couldn’t carry them with us at the time. You were so young; I’m surprised you do. How long have I been out?” She asked Daryl.

“Couple hours.”

“I’m ready to get up.” Daryl had the feeling that she wouldn’t be down long.

Siddiq nodded, “You look much better.”

“Well, that’s not saying much,” she groaned, sure what she looked like as if she’d crawled out of a hole in the ground.

“You’ll be able to get a shower up at Carol’s.”

“A shower?”

Siddiq nodded, “we have running water. It even gets hot, thanks to the solar panels.”

“This place sounds too good to be true,” she said.

“Oh, it’s real,” Siddiq said convincingly, “the only catch is everyone has to pull their weight.”

“That’s not a problem,” Sybil said, “I’d be more than happy to help out where needed.”

“I can work too,” Ryder piped in.

Siddiq laughed, “I’m sure you can.”

“C’mon let's give y’ Mama some privacy,” Daryl said, “We’ll wait outside f’ ya.”

Siddiq removed Ryder and Sybils IVs.

When Daryl and Ryder went outside, the first thing Ryder noticed was that Dog was waiting for them. He said, “I didn’t know what to call him, but I heard you callin’ him Dog.”

“Mhm… it's his name. Figured it’d be easy t’ remember.”

“Sure is,” the boy smiled, “I like him.”

“Seems t’ like ya too,” Daryl remarked as Dog licked Ryder’s face. He laughed, and Daryl liked the sound of it.

“What’s so funny?” Sybil asked, closing the clinic door behind her.

“Dog’s lickin’ my face,” he answered.

Sybil grinned gazing at Daryl before noticing the pond. She spotted two people sitting on a bench under a gazebo while children played in the grass. She shook her head, “This is going to take some getting used to. And you’re sure they don’t mind that we’re here?”

“Naw, y’ fine. I ain’t gonna let no one tell me otherwise.” He swallowed hard as she smiled lightly.

“C’mon, take y’all t’ Carol’s. Save the tour for ‘nother time.”

“You heard Daryl, let’s go,” she got her son’s attention as he stared at the children laughing. One little girl in a big, brimmed hat waved in their direction. Ryder slowly lifted his hand and waved back.

“’S Judith. Y’all gonna meet her later.”

On their way to Carol’s house, they passed the gardens where people were working to pluck the weeds, picking the ripe vegetables, and carrying baskets off to a building. Sybil’s and Ryder’s eyes flitted here and there trying to take everything in. To Sybil, it looked like a regular town she’d seen before the fall. To Ryder, everything looked shiny new. He’d never been somewhere that wasn’t old, dusty, falling apart, or ransacked. He hadn’t slept in a bed until the clinic. He’d never seen lights working to full capacity like the ones in the clinic either. He’d not seen very many other children. And he’d never walked in an area that wasn’t dangerous. There were so many things to see and experience, he was overwhelmed. He stopped walking for a moment.

“What is it?” Sybil asked. The boy bit on his thumbnail, “It’s so big…”

She bent down so she was at eye level with him, “I know it is. This is very new for you. But this is what the world looked like before out there. It’s going to be okay. Daryl wouldn’t bring us here if it wasn’t.”

“How do you know?” He asked.

“Because I know Daryl, remember?”

Ryder was curious but nodded silently, took his mother’s hand, and began to walk again. They were now two streets over from the clinic with large townhouses connected towering over them in a row.

“Woah…” Ryder exclaimed.

Daryl scratched the back of his head, “Yeah… had more houses, but had t’ rebuild a lot of times. Seven’s Carol’s.”

They walked up the steps and Daryl opened the door directly into a hallway. There were stairs to the left and to the right an archway into a living room area. There was furniture, some looked brand new, and many things matched. Sybil could smell baked goods and her stomach growled.

“What’s that smell?” Ryder asked, sniffing the air. He’d never had a truly decent meal.

“That’s cookies,” Carol said walking down the hallway, “I made them just for you and your mom.”

“What about Daryl and Dog? Can’t they have some?”

Carol grinned up at Daryl, “Well, I suppose so. Welcome to my house, young man. I want you both to feel comfortable here.”

“How many people live here?” Sybil wondered aloud.

“Just me… and Daryl. He lives in the basement apartment.”

Just two people in this huge townhouse?

“Let me show you around really quickly and then I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up.”

Carol took them through the house and as she took them upstairs, she said to Daryl, “I’ve got it. You can relax for a bit.”

Once they were gone, Daryl fell into the couch. It was the first time he could truly think about one thing without worrying about another.

…

“And here’s the bathroom.”

“Wow!” Ryder looked around. He went to touch the faucet but realized how dirty his hands were.

“It’s okay, things clean up, just like you,” Carol said kindly. Ryder looked at his mom.

“There are two rooms down here… and one in the attic.”

“What room are we in?” Ryder asked.

“Guess what? You get your own room.”

Ryder hesitated, “My own room?” He scratched the back of his head, “I’ve never been without my mom before.”

“She’ll be in this room,” she pointed, “just next door to you.”

“Are you sure we can stay here? We don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing, I swear,” Carol insisted, “I love company. For a while, I had a full house… I miss it. You’ll be doing me a favor, believe me.” She got into the linen closet and pulled out towels and washcloths.

“Why don’t you two get showers and clean up? When you’re done, I’ll have something ready for you to eat.”

Sybil touched Carol’s arm, “Thank you so, so much.”

“My pleasure. I put some clothes out on the beds for you two to choose from. See you downstairs.”

“You heard the lady… you first!” Sybil said, preparing a bath for her son.

He reached into the water and swished his hand around, “It’s warm!” He only knew cold water, quick wash-ups, and scrubbing when they had time.

“Yes, my sweet…” She said, “You remember shampoo, right?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes, “I remember shampoo.”

“Soap?”

“Mom, come on.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be just outside the door.”

“You can step a little further away. I think I can do this alone. I am eight you know.”

“This is going to be strange for me too, Ryder… we’ve never been apart.” She shut the door and once she heard him splashing in the tub, she took steps away and into the bedroom Carol offered to look at the clothes. Boy’s clothes; lightly worn, in excellent condition. He hadn’t had new clothes in months. She saw many things she’d love to see her son in but left it up to him and looked around. The bed was single. There were curtains and shades on the brightly lit windows. There was an empty bookshelf in the corner. She opened the closet and saw some more clothes hanging and went through the dresser looking at the empty drawers.

“Hey…”

She spun around when she heard Daryl. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Hey. This is… really something. I’ll never be able to thank you enough-”

“Y’ would a done it f’ me.”

“In a heartbeat.”

She licked her lips and rubbed her forehead, “I have a lot of explaining to do. I know that. I promise you; we’ll have that talk. But not just yet. I’m… feeling so out of place – still with you after these past few weeks. We’ve been avoiding issues, keeping silent… and just concentrating on survival.”

“Got some of my own things t’ explain too. I can wait as long as I have ta’.”

Suddenly, Ryder came running out of the bathroom, a towel held around his waist, water dripping all over the hardwood floor, “I’m done!”

Daryl smirked while Sybil brushed past him to her son, “You don’t go streaking through someone’s house!”

“I don’t have any clothes in there to put on.”

“Oh, right… go in that room and pick something out.”

When he closed the door behind him, he said, “Wow! A new shirt and pants! Mom, there’s one with stripes!”

Smiling up at Daryl she said, “Simple pleasures.”

“He like stripes?”

She nodded, “I’ve never let him wear them though. I was afraid it would make him stick out while we were moving around. You can wear that one, Ryder.”

“Can I really?”

“Yes, enjoy it. Lord knows he deserves it,” she said under her breath.

“Why don’t ‘cha get cleaned up? I can take him down t’ the kitchen. Carol’s cookies are waitin’.”

“Okay…” She hesitated.

“He’ll be fine, Syb. He ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

The bedroom door opened and before Sybil could say anything Daryl said, “C’mon… want them cookies?”

“Is it alright? Can I go?” He asked his mom, unsure.

She nodded, “Go with Daryl. I’ll be down when I’m all clean. I wouldn’t want to touch a cookie with dirty hands. Scoot!”

Ryder followed Daryl down the stairs. Sybil went into the bathroom and seeing a filthy ring around the tub sighed. She felt horrible for the conditions they’d had to live in. Unavoidable, but still… she wished she could’ve given him a better life. Maybe now things were going to change. Maybe they finally found a place to call home.  She cleaned the tub with supplies she found under the sink and then got into the shower. Hot water! She relished the moments, suds in her hair, scrubbing the grime, shampooing several times before she could feel a clean scalp. She did the same with the soap, scrubbing every inch. Feeling lighter, and human again, she turned off the water and grabbed for her towel. Carol had left other things by the sink; two toothbrushes, toothpaste, and a comb. Sybil set to work on the knots in her hair. This was going to take a while. She smelled the clean clothes… so soft and comfortable. She looked at herself in the bureau mirror. Her hair was past her shoulders, she’d lost weight from being on the run, and lack of consistent food. She sat down on the edge of the bed for a moment to try to catch her breath. Everything was happening so fast. The smell of food finally got her moving, and she went downstairs.

She heard Ryder laughing and as she entered the kitchen she had to laugh. He had chocolate smeared on his face, and a cookie in each fist.

“These are so good,” he said between bites. Sybil looked at Carol apologetically.

She shrugged, “it’s nice to have that enthusiasm around. How about some milk?”

Sybil had never given him any milk since he was a baby breastfeeding.

“How do you have milk?”

“One of our other communities has cows. We get milk. We pasteurize right on our stoves.”

Sybil watched her open the fridge.

“I’d like some milk to try,” Ryder interjected.

“A working fridge…” Sybil was mystified.

“Alright…” Carol poured him a glass, and he took a sip, barely hesitated, and drank the rest of it in large gulps.

“Oh, I’m so pleased you like it,” Carol responded, “it’s good for you.”

“It will help your bones and teeth,” Sybil felt as if she would cry. All the things he’d missed out on. She was going to have to ask Siddiq to check him over better.

“How about you, Sybil… what can I get for you? I’ve just made some sandwiches. Ryder ate two before he dug into the cookies.”

“I’d love a sandwich, that sounds amazing. Where’s Daryl?”

“He went down to his apartment. He’ll be back up in a bit. Have a seat.” Sybil sat down at the dining room table and Carol set a glass of milk in front of her.

“Looks like you could use this too.”

Sybil realized she was eating like a pig and covered her mouth, “I’m sorry,” she said between bites, “I’m being rude.”

“No,” Carol said sitting next to her, “you’re doing exactly what all of us have done at one time or another. I know what it’s like to be starving.” She patted her hand.

“This is delicious…” Chicken, tomato, and lettuce.

“That other community, called Hilltop, is more of a homestead than here. There are working farms. They raise cattle, chickens, and pigs. They tame and breed horses-”

“Horses?” Ryder wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “I’ve never seen a real horse. Only the ones in books.”

“We have some here too.” Carol added, “Maybe once you’re settled, we can take a walk on down and see them.”

“Can we Mom?”

Sybil laughed as she took another sandwich that Carol offered her, “One thing at a time, Ryder. There’s a lot to see, and a lot to get used to. Remember what Dr. Siddiq said?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “We need to take it easy for today. He wants to check us tomorrow.”

“Right. I promise we’ll see anything they want to show us, so just give me today to rest. Sound fair?”

“You don’t make promises.”

“You’re right because I don’t usually know what’s going to happen. Nothing is usually certain. But this is something that is going to happen. So, I promise you.” She finished drinking her milk and said to Carol, “That was fantastic. I haven’t had chicken since… before the fall.”

“You’re in for a treat then, we are having roasted chicken tonight. Hilltop will be bringing beef and pork tomorrow.”

“I’m so grateful.”

“Me too.” He added.

… Downstairs, Daryl peeled off his mud-caked clothing and dropped them on the floor. He looked over at Dog who had jumped on the bed and rolled around in the blankets. Daryl tutted, “Carol ain’t gonna like the mess yer makin’.”

Dog exposed his belly in submission. Daryl grunted, “Damn you.” He rubbed his belly and said, “Gotta get cleaned up.” He went into his bathroom and started the shower water. While he waited for it to get nice and hot, he glanced into the mirror. He looked like shit. No wonder Sybil didn’t recognize him.

Sybil.

Ryder.

He shook out his wet hair wondering when they were going to talk, and what he’d say. He thought about how he felt, and those feelings just swirled together anger, frustration, confusion, and loss. On the other hand, he was truly grateful that he’d crossed paths with Sybil again. She was alive and safe. He wondered how much she’d changed. He knew he’d done a lot of changing himself. Would there be a way to fix things between them, did he want that? What about her? Would she want to fix what went wrong between them? Could it be resolved? And the child. The boy with his blue eyes. He knew he was his son. Yet, he needed to hear it from her own lips.

He finished up and changed into some clean clothes, black as usual, and headed upstairs. Dog dodged out from behind him, nearly knocking him over in the process.  

“Damn Dog,” he uttered and paused in the hallway. He heard Ryder laughing and calling Dog while Sybil was asking Carol questions about Alexandria.

He cleared his throat before entering.

“Feel better?” Carol asked. Daryl wasn’t prepared for Sybil to look as she did. Her hair was shiny and curly, with her large eyes turned toward him. Her face was as beautiful as he remembered, but she’d lost some weight. A shy smile crossed her full lips.

“Uh… yeah…” Daryl answered. Little did he know that Sybil was curiously gazing at him too. His hair was much longer than it looked all packed with dirt. It lay in waves on his well-defined shoulders. He was more muscular than he’d been, his arms pressing tight against the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. Her eyes drifted upwards. Those intense blue eyes locked in on hers.

“We were just talking a little bit about Alexandria.” Carol picked up the empty plates from the table and set a sandwich down for Daryl. He walked over and picked half of it up.

“Did y’ get ‘nough to eat?”

Sybil nodded.

“How ‘bout you?” He turned to Ryder.

Ryder rubbed his belly, “I’m stuffed!”

“You should be! He ate two sandwiches, and I don’t know how many cookies.” Carol smiled proudly.

“Only four,” Ryder answered blushing.“That ain’t too bad,” Daryl remarked, “I could eat ‘bout a dozen of ‘em.”

Stay Tuned for Part Four

[band--psycho]

Negan x OC-She’s Mine(Part 1)

Warning: smut (there will be more of it later on) and language

“Jesus fuck, Red,” Negan sighed as he collapsed on the side of the bed next to me. I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, also trying to catch my breath.

“If we keep going like this, I don’t think I’ll need my wives anymore,” Negan chuckled.

“I wouldn’t let them hear you say that,” I replied, slowly sitting up.

“Seriously doll, you’re something fuckin’ else,” he said, leaning up to place a kiss on my lips.

“I need to go,” I said between kisses.

“No you don’t,”Negan argued, placing kiss along my neck.

“Yes, I do I’ve still got some work to do before the run,” I answered, trying not to moan as he reached the sweet spot on my neck.

“You know, you wouldn’t have to do any of those of those things if you just agreed to be my wife,” he stated, kissing down my chest.

“You could stay here all day, and then we could fuck whenever and wherever we wanted to,” he continued, leaving a hickey just above my breast.

“Negan…”I moaned, trying to push him away slightly.

“You know I’m right, baby girl, just accept it,” he whispered in my war as his hands began to wonder around my body.

“Negan, stop..” I moaned, pushing him away harder.

“You’ll give in eventually, doll,” He sighed with a smirk on his face.

“Maybe I will, but not yet,” I said, beginning to put my clothes on.

“Uh, uh, these are mine,” he said, picking up my pink panties, I just rolled my eyes chuckling slightly as I did so.

“You’re so fucking weird Negan,” I stated, putting the rest of my clothes on.

“You fuckin’ know it sweetheart,” he chuckled, winking at me.

“Now, get that sexy ass moving before I have to punish you for being late for your jobs,” I nodded quickly, placing a kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you later on then,daddy,” As I said those words I heard him groan as he slapped my ass.

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Red,” He mumbled against his lips.

“Now go, before you start something that’ll make us both late,” he continued, giving me a gently push.

And with that I left.

Negan and I had a somewhat complicated relationship. He found me. Well, he saved me; I’d just lost my group..and my husband in a walker hoard. I was a wreck and part of me didn’t want to live anymore. I was standing in front a walker when he found me, the walker took me down and I didn’t eve try to stop it, but Negan did, he smashed its head in with Lucille and then he took me back to the Sanctuary.

Most nights I’d end up going to his room just to talk to him. And then after awhile it just became a sort of tradition, especially when a load of people from a Sanctuary outpost were killed. Negan was distraught, but more than anything he felt guilty; that was the first time he opened up to me about what he was feeling. And from then on we just closer.

One night, we’d both been drinking, and one thing led to another..and since then we’ve been like fuck buddies, but he keeps asking me to be his wife. And I would. But I’ve met his wives..and I don’t think I could handle being around them all day, every day, not to mention the fact that I’d been married and if I was going to do it again, I’d want to be his only wife, and everyone knew Negan would never get rid of his little haram.

~~~~~~~~~~

I walked out of the doors to the vans and cars ahead , today we were going to a community called Alexandria, Negan had “run” into a group of them last week and killed two men that were there, as much as I hated Negan killing people, I understood why he did it, wwe lost a lot of people because of this group. It was pay back.

So, like all the local communities, Negan made a deal with them, half a supplies, every week.

“Ah, there she is,” Arat said,as she flung her arm round my shoulder.

“Hey,” I said, smiling.

Arat was the first person, other than Negan that I grew close to. It’s thanks to her that I became a Saviour. Between the two of us constantly asking Negan if I could be one, we wore him down and reluctantly let me. And he didn’t mind it all to much in the end, especially when it meant we could fuck on runs.

“Thought we were gonna have to leave without you,” Arat said.

“Sorry, I was in the shower,” I explained.

“Well, where the fuckin’ hell was my invite?” I chuckled as I saw Negan walking towards us.

“Must’ve gotten lost in the post,” I answered,causing Arat to chuckle.

“Very fuckin’ funny, Red,” he said, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s move out!” He bellowed, and with that we all got into a car, heading to Alexandria.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we arrived at Alexandria, Negan acted his normal Negan self, full of curse words and sarcasm.

The people there didn’t look how I thought they would. They didn’t look like they could kill all the people at the outpost; but then again, I guess anybody can be a killer..their leader, I think his name was Rick, he didn’t look like I thought he would either. He looked scared. Terrified. Broken. Part of me almost felt sorry for him, but then I remembered what he’d done, what he’d got other people here to do, and the sympathy I had for him faded.

Arat and I were just coming out a house when we saw Negan with Rick, and to my surprise Rick was holding Lucille, I assumed it was one of Negans little games, and it seemed to be working. Rick looked lost.

“Ladies,” Negan said, nodding to the two of us. Both of smiled back at him.

“Arat mind looking after Rick here, while I take Red?” Negan asked.

“No problem boss,” Arat answered, winking at me as she left with Rick.

“So, darlin’ what do ya think,” Negan asked, placing his arm around my waist.

“It’s nice, reminds me of those real estates back home,” I answered, and he nodded.

“There’s a lot of houses here, y’know? Negan whispered to me and instantly I knew what he wanted.

“Do you always think about sex?” I chuckled.

“Oh, darlin’, don’t act like you don’t love it,” He said, squeezing my hips softly.

“You are ridiculous!” I said sighing.

“You’ve always known that, Red,” he said, using his other hand to lift my chin up to look at him.

“C’mon baby,I’ve been imagining fucking you in all these different houses,” he said lightly kissing me.

“All the different surfaces,” another kiss.

“All the different positions,” and another kiss. And I sighed in defeat.

“Is that a yes?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I answered, and that all too familiar smirk crept onto his face.

“Yes, what?” he asked, and I instantly blushed, and inwardly sighed.

“Yes,daddy,” I whispered.

“Good girl,” he whispered against my lips as he pulled me towards a house. We were just about to go in when a voice caught both of our attention.

“What are you doing? Your men have already searched this house,” the woman said, clearly distressed by the whole situation; and then a man came up behind her and I couldn’t help the breath that hitched in my throat, and he had a similar reaction when he saw me.

“Y/N?” He asked, walking closer to Negan and I. I could feel Negans eyes on me, expecting an explanation, but I didn’t trust my voice. Not even Negan knew my real name. He just started calling me Red because of my hair and it just stuck.

“You...you died..”I said, my voice barely above a whisper, as I stared at him, expecting him to vanish at any second.

“I looked for you...I thought you’d..” He began, his voice shaking as he did so.

“Red? Who the fuck is he?” Negan asked, looking between the two of us.

“He’s..he’s my husband..Jake,” I said to him.

“Your fucking husband?” Negan asked again, shocked.

“Y/N/N, what are you doing with him?” Jake asked, continuing to get closer.

“Y/N/N, he’s a monster.” Jake stated, I could see the anger building in Negans eyes.

“Come on,” Jake said, lightly pulling on my hand.

“Hey!” Negan said, snapping back to reality, stepping between the two of us.

“You don’t fucking touch her!” Negan continued.

“She’s my wife! And I want to talk to her!” Jake countered.

“Negan, it’s fine,” I said, trying to calm him and the situation down.

“Doll….don’t,”He warned and I sighed.

“Go in the house,”Negan said gritting his teeth. I knew better than to push him when he was like this, so I did what he said. A few seconds later Negan came into the house.

“Well, looks like we need to have a little fucking chat,sweetheart,” Negan said, sitting on one of the chairs, the fire of anger still clearly burning in his eyes.

Tag list: @neganandblake @you-a-southpaw-doll @glicabhainn00

[steamed-ham-moved]

𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐇𝟐

SUMMARY ➣ France releases an airborne virus designed to eradicate all Cryptids. It ends up having the opposite effect… Kagura wants to be left alone, but that might not be possible when she meets Max, then Negan.

╭┄┈┄────────❍•

│Negan & Max X fem OC, somewhat slow burn

│TWD CRYPTID AU

│Warnings - NA

│ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

╰┄┈┄──❍•

[littlepeachwhispers]

Civilian - Chapter 3: Blood in the Cut

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: When you accidentally stumble onto Sanctuary territory, Negan takes you prisoner to ensure your arrival is purely coincidental. When no one from your group shows up, you end up becoming a citizen of the sanctuary and realizing just how dark your new leader truly is.

Chapter Warnings: light body gore & blood

Story Warnings: violence, gore, smut, slow burn, isolation, body gore, blood, dark themes

Available on AO3 if you prefer to read there. A/N: It feels like forever since I’ve updated this. I'm so sorry, guys, but to my credit, 2018 was a seriously crazy year. I lost/quit my job, had the worst heartbreak of my life, and I met Jensen and Jared. It was insane. But I promised I wouldn't abandon this fic and I mean it. My love for Negan has resurged and so has my motivation. This chapter was shorter than the rest I believe but it's a bit of a transition for me so I promise there's more angst/drama/action to come in the next chapters. I'm a bit rusty with no beta, but I'd love to hear ideas for future chapters!   

During your first few days with Dr. Carson, he had familiarized you with the equipment he had in the makeshift hospital. Many machines and devices were outdated, but it made sense since the Saviors scavenged and took what was available to them. Carson had also prepared you for what the typical sanctuary patients would be like. Gunshot wounds, pregnancy tests, infections, and colds. He said that occasionally there would be something on the gorier side, but that hadn’t bothered you. You had seen your fair share of gore, all before the apocalypse was even thought about. Wounds that wouldn’t heal, people dying within seconds in front of you, insane gastrointestinal bleeds. As fucked up as it seemed, when it came to body gore, you were in your comfort zone. It was your life before the world went to shit. And patching people up came to you like second nature. Fixing people felt like home. 

Despite your newfound comfort in your job, your arrival at the Sanctuary still had you reeling. Laura and another female savior whose name you had learned was Arat had accompanied you everywhere. Work breaks, the canteen, the commissary, even your shared room; each night was exactly like your first night in the old factory minus the handcuffs. You felt like you were never alone, your sense of self becoming fuzzy at times. Even Carson could be caught sneaking glances at you as you worked. You never slept well because you were always on edge. More often than you would care to admit, you found yourself wondering where your new leader spent the majority of his days. Negan had been scarce to say the least during your time at the sanctuary. It was nearly two weeks into your stay before you saw him again. He had been silently watching you alphabetize medication vials and bottles, before he left without a word. Whether it was due to his deteriorating eyesight or his lack of attention to detail, for some reason Carson hadn’t paid much mind to the organization of his tools or medicines. Within a few short days, you had fixed that. All the cabinets and floors were hand-scrubbed to perfection. They hadn’t been dirty beforehand, but thanks to you they were now pristine. 

You began to lose count of how many days you’d been a Sanctuary citizen, knowing little more than the infirmary, your room, and the canteen. Days had begun to run together, finally some sense of normality in your situation falling into place for you. It seemed safe to lay low and off of Simon and Negan’s radar. You had no specific reason to fear them, not really. The imprisonment, the handcuffs, the weapons: it was scary, sure. But wouldn’t your own community have done anything they could to protect what they had as well? The longer you turned it over and over in you mind, the easier it was to understand. Your unease around Negan hadn’t primarily emerged as a result of any specific action. An aura of power, of absolute brutality, hung over him like a cloud. His authority was palpable. Something in you - probably the self-preservation - suggested that steering clear of him would be a wise decision. At least until he’d personally made avoiding him impossible.

Startling you out of your thoughts and causing you to drop an ampule of lidocaine, someone loudly barged in behind you as you stood in the makeshift infirmary. It was an ordinary day and nothing had been unusual up until that point. Carson had stepped out for his usual lunch and you had been relabeling bottles whose lettering had begun to fade. When you turned around to face the source of the commotion, you were face to face with a bleeding Negan, his hand covered in a deep crimson. A blond man you thought was named Dwight stood behind him, a blood-soaked towel bundled under one arm. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you, Darlin.” His voice was strained and you could tell he was uncomfortable. You kicked the shattered glass at your feet to the side, pulling cabinet doors open to search for what you needed. 

“I’m fine, D. Tell the boys to continue with the festivities.” Even in pain, he kept his humor as he directed his voice toward Dwight. 

Flinging open cabinet door after cabinet door, you managed to gather some telfa pads, gauze packets, an antibiotic cream, and some saline meant for contacts, all of which you transferred to the exam table within seconds. Dwight nodded at Negan once through stringy ashen bangs before excusing himself. Gloves were a rarity, so you had to work on the man’s wound gloveless. There were a few boxes around, but the infirmary “staff” - consisting of Carson, a man and two women who had been aides in a hospital, and yourself - had collectively decided that gloves were for extreme needs only. The chances of having hepatitis of one type or another didn’t seem unlikely for anyone at this point. You often wondered if it even mattered anymore. An infection or bloodborne illness couldn’t be any worse than dying from a biter. 

Negan didn’t say anything at first, his eyes focused on you intently. It was unnerving and you busied yourself with inspecting his wound to ease your mind. After lifting up the once-white cloth he’d used to cinch the blood flow, you discovered a laceration a little over an inch in length to the web of his left hand. Not a bite and not very big. But it was considerably deep. It still oozed blood. You ripped open a pack of gauze and pressed it firmly to his wound, before lifting his hand upright. 

“Keep it elevated like this.” You decided to keep your replies short and simple, concentrating on the job in front of you. 

“Settling in nicely?” His voice was just as you’d remembered, his timbre gravel. 

“Yes.” Your answer was quiet. You poured the saline solution over the gauze to prevent it from drying to his blood as it clotted, your hands surprisingly steady around his.

“Good…” His voice trailed off, and you waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t.

You kept applying pressure until you finally staunched the bleeding completely. It didn’t call for stitches, thankfully. While cleaning up his wound with more gauze and saline, you noticed how calloused and bruised his hands were. He’d presumably just been in a fight, but he smelled clean. Like soap. The white tee he had on wasn’t pristine - there were smudges of blood and dirt - but it was still white. His hair was inky and slicked back into perfection, just as it was the first time you’d met. The short beard adorning his face was peppery and sharply groomed, with no trace of neck-beard to be found. It never ceased to amaze you; the capacity at which Negan was worshiped and taken care of by others in the community. It was unsettling, even moreso since you’d been tasked with healing the man.

“This might sting.” You warned timidly before dabbing a small amount of alcohol over the gash. 

Negan hissed lowly, muttering a quick, “Shit!” 

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, beginning to dry his wound and opening the small individual packet of antibiotic cream. 

As you spread the ointment over his wound, you began to speak again, doing your best to keep yourself calm and your voice even. “I’m going to wrap a dressing around your hand. Just keep it dry and clean and come see me if any drainage is visible or in about three days. Whichever comes first. If it starts to hurt worse, feels hot, or smells, come see me as soon as you notice.” It wasn’t standard practice - in a perfect world, he would change the bandage every day. But you were conserving products and three days seemed a safe amount of time to wait.

Laying a non-stick pad over the wound, you started to wrap gauze around it when Negan spoke again.

“That sounds gross as shit, but coming out of your mouth it’s kinda fucking hot.”

Eyes widening, you didn’t know how to respond to his words. Did he call you hot? No, he said your words were hot. His phrasing felt more like a threat than a compliment. Tucking the end of the gauze into place, you stepped back from your newfound leader and began to pick up the wrappers from the supplies now on Negan’s hand. 

“I’m finished.” You had turned your back to clean up but heard paper crinkling as the tall man stood up and off of the exam table. 

“Arat and Laura are still escorting you around the Sanctuary.” His voice was steady as he spoke, and even though he hadn’t asked you a question, you felt as if he wanted you to answer him.

“They are.” Cautiously, you threw all your trash away and turned to face him. He had his head tilted to one side, his injured hand rubbing at his beard. 

“You know, those ladies are two very integral members of my security team here.” You didn’t know exactly where he was going with this, but you took a shot in the dark.

“I’m not going anywhere, Negan.” He raised his eyebrows at your words, and your stomach instantly felt like it was filled with ice. “Sir,” you amended.

“...Good girl.” He chuckled. “I’m going to trust you on that. Can I trust you, Y/N?” He stepped closer and you began to feel nauseated and stuck in place. It was a repeat of that first encounter with him all over again.

You looked up to meet his eyes, backing up until the freshly cleaned counter was biting into your lower back. “Yes, sir.” You felt your pulse pounding in the flush of your cheeks.

He held your gaze for an intense moment - long enough to make you shiver - before grinning again, as if nothing had just transpired between the two of you. 

“Great.”

You continued to clean up and organize supplies as Negan stood in the middle of the room. He didn’t move to leave immediately, and that made your hands tremble as you grasped a plastic container of alcohol and replaced it in its proper cabinet. 

“...You did a good job.” He grunted, inspecting his hand. Before finally turning to leave, he turned to face you again. 

“Thank you. Can I do anything else for you, sir?” Your voice was stronger; it didn’t sound like you were as scared as you actually were. 

He chuckled at your voice, eyes meeting yours this time. You wondered how far he was going to push the envelope with his reply, but he surprised you: his laughter was his reply. After he glanced over your body in a quick once-over, he’d turned to the doors and disappeared.

What did that even mean? You peered around the room you stood in; nothing had visibly changed save for the crinkled paper on the exam table, yet the aura in the air had grown heavy; different. Your encounter with Negan had left you tense. The mood didn’t lift all day. You continued with your usual work, bandaging a wound or two, but mostly organizing and cleaning. Was Negan kidding when he’d said your voice was hot? He was this community’s leader, would he find it disrespectful if you didn’t return his interest? Or if you did? Was he even actually flirting with you, or was it just an aspect of his personality? Negan had used pet names from the moment he’d met you, and you assumed it had been his demeanor. A part of that complex persona he embodied. Truth be told, you didn’t know anymore. And you didn’t know if figuring it out was worth your peace of mind at this point.

Taglist:  @ohokaybyethen @miiraal @grayonshugs @angelicaleonamichelle @collette04 @freakior

It’s been a long time, so if I left you out or you no longer want to be on the taglist, let me know!

[to-pick-ourselves-up-7]

The Marks of Running Ink pt.83

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: History had never been wrong about the lengths human beings would go for survival, for pride, for love… Tory Miller never thought she would see it unfold with her own eyes, not after the end of an era, but she could understand. Now, their war was being fought in all fronts. Negan’s was for pride, Rick’s was for survival, both of them were unstoppable forces. And her war? Tory’s war was for love.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: so this only took me almost a year to complete??? Depression sucks. If you’re still around, what a champ! If you just got into this train wreck, welcome on board! I’M FINISHING THIS STORY!! We’re so close.

(gif credit) ••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  ••• 

War

The Hilltop, VA

“I want to speak to Negan” the woman said, not sounding that grainy from the walkie.

Of course, she wanted to speak to Negan, but Simon had no way to do that, right?

“Well, you’re speaking to Negan, the birth certificate says Simon, though.” He snarked at the Widow.

He hadn’t expected her to offer mercy, they didn’t need any fucking mercy. This was about the power and getting it right away.

They weren’t prepared for the rain of bullets, however.

It hadn’t been that gruesome, at least not the first round. Advancing inside the Hilltop had been too easy, he should have known that. The light of the buses had blindsided them and they were right for the plucking.

Running away had been pathetic, but Simon was relishing the idea of the people of the community realizing what would happen with the wounded. That was his consolation.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Four days

Viv could see something was wrong.

Tory’s hand wasn’t shaking, but she seemed to be shaken, like something monumental had happened without anyone realizing. The young woman looked pale and drawn, and her lips were pressed in a fine line.  

“Let Danny do the heavy stuff, you can do some light pruning, but the whole other thing? Absolutely not. Let your wrist heal,”

They were alone, so, Vivienne locked the door while Tory allotted her painkillers for the sprained wrist.

“What’s wrong, Victoria?”

The young woman turned to look at her and Vivienne lifted her eyebrows to signal Tory should talk to her freely. Tory closed her mouth firmly and then pouted, as her eyes filled with tears; she opened and closed her mouth a couple times, trying to keep the tears at bay. It was useless, soon the tears rolled down Tory’s face, wetting their way down to her neck.

“I think I made a mistake,” the brunette sat heavily on Dr. Carson’s former chair.

Viv knew Vera’ assessment of Tory’s character, and she trusted the other young woman’s judgement. Tory didn’t like making mistakes, she hated the consequences of her errors, even when they didn’t directly affect her.

“Tell me. You know it won’t leave this room, honey,” Vivienne promised, softening her voice as much as she could, every day, Viv found more difficult to be access the softness that she used to have so close to the surface before things went…wrong.

Tory shut her eyes for a few seconds.

“I’m about sixteen weeks pregnant,” came the whisper.

In that moment, many different scenarios played through Vivienne’s head. Tory had once mentioned she didn’t really need birth control because she definitely could not get pregnant. That truth had come in one of the few moments she’d caught the girl smashingly drunk. Despite her age, Vivienne saw a girl too young for motherhood in a world where it meant danger.

Amy and Vera and Tory, all of them were way too brave for their own good.

“I don’t know what to say,” Vivienne blurted, still a bit shocked. “It’s Negan’s, I assume,”

A little nod served as answer.

“Well, is that the mistake?”

“No,” Tory wiped her tears away and opened her eyes. “I asked Negan to marry me for real, like it used to be…before,”

“Oh, Tory,” Vivienne bemoaned, knowing how hard Elle had it when trying to get Negan to compromise with her. “Oh, honey,”

“I know, okay? He made it very clear that my feelings are just mine to have,” Tory hissed defensively, trying not to raise her voice. “I just wish I could leave, that he’d let me go and…just be away from him,”

A deep frown set itself on Vivienne’s face as she gave Tory a dark look.

“Where would you go? Back to Alexandria? It must be a ruin now. The Hilltop…”

“Doveport,” Tory interrupted before clearing her throat. “They have a doctor, and Vera and her babies will need one,”

Acceptance bled into Vivienne’s mind as she thought of what could go wrong in a pregnancy like Vera’s, with two children instead of one. Viv knew something however; Negan would not let go of Tory, he might have implied that he didn’t love her like she suspected Tory did him, but that didn’t mean he’d be willing to part from her, much less if he knew… Viv didn’t believe Negan had been sincere when he said he didn’t love Tory.

“Does he know about…?” Vivienne gestured to Tory’s middle and the nurse shook her head. “Oh.”

Tory nodded tearfully. “And now he might never know, because he’s somewhere around, missing.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

“Whatever happened here, I can smell it,” Negan rasped, looking at Jadis -that was her name- from his vantage point. The community-less leader ignored him as she poured a bucketful of salt in a wheelbarrow. She was preparing a fire and Negan knew something was about to happen. It was a mistake to promise to pay back what she’d lost and although he loved Lucille, he didn’t like his girl so close to his face, he could smell the dead blood all over it, despite Rick setting her on fire.

While Jadis was distracted looking for…whatever the hell she was looking for, Negan took his chance, pushing himself with his feet to get the gun and the flare the woman had left unattended. He would regret if he had to burn the pictures of the people she’d seemed to have lost, but he wanted out.

He needed to go back.

There was a familiar pain in his right arm but he ignored it in place of negotiating his way out of the sticky situation that he still had to make up for with Simon.

It was awful, having to drag Lucille -his real girl- into the conversation, he couldn’t even mention Elle, the pain was still too fresh, to close to the surface.

What he hadn’t expected of it all was the damned helicopter.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

The room was not empty when Tory entered. Cecelia was standing in front of the window that oversaw the courtyard of the Sanctuary, there was something about the other woman’s disposition that made her uneasy, something not unlike fear curled in the base of her neck, telling her to go away.

To run.

Tory was distracted enough not to notice when Cecelia turned around, or the sneer of distaste that curled her lips when her dark brown eyes fell on Tory’s form.

“What are you doing here?” Cecelia asked.

Tory narrowed her eyes, trying not to blow whatever was tentatively happening between them.

“I should be asking that, you know Negan usually calls for us,” Tory said. She’d come here for something of her own anyway, right?

“Negan is dead, we’ve all heard that.” Cecelia said coldly.

“He is not dead,” Tory contradicted Cecelia, she would know that in the moment it happened. No matter what, she would know.

Then Cecelia did something that Tory was not expecting, she walked up to her and with gentle hands, she took Tory’s face between her hands.

“I know your little secret, Victoria,” the woman said sweetly. “I don’t know where, you’re good, but I know that somewhere in this skinny meat sack of a body, you’re bearing Negan’s soulmate mark.” A shudder ran down Tory’s back again. “and Simon will make sure that no one knows.”

Something clicked inside Tory’s brain when Cecelia mentioned Negan’s most trusted lieutenant. The slightly reverent, familiar way in which her voice had caressed Simon’s name…

“You’re cheating on him,” Tory whispered carelessly.

The slap was hard and Tory stepped back, reeling at the impact, unable to stop the smattering of her cheek, watching wide eyed as Cecelia’s face paled and transformed with horror, her usually rich brown skin looked ashen. Because Tory knew that Negan was alive, and if Simon failed taking over the Sanctuary, and Negan came back, Cecelia and Simon would pay for Tory’s discovery. She gained enough wit back to notice that Cecelia was advancing on her with a bottle of champagne in her hands, as if she planned to smash it against Tory’s head. She covered with her arms -damn, it hurt-and wrestled the bottle away from Cecelia, as they both fell to the floor with a loud thud. The bottle shattered, showering them with sweet sparkling wine and shards of forest green glass. Tory pulled herself away from Cecelia, who grabbed the bottle and scrambled without grace after her, with a scary looking bit of glass clutched in her hand.

And the fatal flaw was imminent, and Tory’s instinct to run battled with the one to stop Cecelia as she advanced.

Words caught in her throat as she saw.

Cecelia’s open toed, D’Orsay style shoes -her favorite kind- caught in the rug, making her stumble, Tory saw it happen as if it was a slow motion film, Cecelia’s free arm caught on the coffee table with a sharp crack, and the woman screamed as her body twisted in an odd angle, the wrist of the hand holding the glass must have failed her because it didn’t stop the impact either as Cecelia closed in on the floor, face first.

The spluttering sound as Cecelia gasped for air was familiar to Tory, the wet sound of her breathing and the patch of blood that grew on the rug made her eyes go wide and Tory knelt on the floor, turning Cecelia on her back. Her face had its own wide-eyed expression and she was trying to say something, but the blood was running too fast, her eyes grew dim and her lips slackened.

Dead, Tory registered in her mind. She’s dead.

Simon will kill me.

The notion of being killed made Tory move. With certain, firm motions, Tory grabbed the shard of glass from Cecelia’s hand. The bigger problem now was that it would take maybe five minutes for the corpse of the former wife to reanimate. Shaking and dripping with blood, Tory went to the bedside drawer where Negan kept pens and pencils. From there, she grabbed the one letter opener she’d seen him use once to cut a page from a book. Uncaring of procedure or niceties, Tory buried the letter opener in Cecelia’s skull, using the eye cavity of her left eye.

Those were the most insane minutes of her life at that moment.

Tory pushed the heavy furniture, still pumping with adrenaline, she also pushed the coffee table away from the rug and dragged Cecelia’s body to the edge of the rug; then cutting part of the black dress her corpse was wearing, Tory cleaned the mess of champagne and threw the glass and pieces of cloth in the rug, with the dead woman.

Rolling her along with the rug was a challenge on itself. Fortunately, the rug was tick enough to take most of the blood from the gory end of Cecelia’s life, and Tory breathed in relief when she moved the furniture back into place without a hitch.

Her left arm stung a little and Tory frowned at the words.

What the shit?

Lucas or maybe Chase, could help her with the heavy lifting of getting rid of the corpse.  

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Lucas and Chase exchanged glances when Simon talked to the people of the Sanctuary about everyone being Negan and what not.

Something about it was off.

They would know if he was dead, Tory would have told them, or maybe told Vera. Lucas paled and Chase frowned at his friend.

“What if he knows about Tory?”

And realization made Chase almost dizzy. Simon would go after her.

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Night had fallen faster than Negan expected. He had turned the headlights of the car on, uncaring of attracting dead ones or more unsavory things, like a little straggler from the fucking misfit group that Rick Grimes and the Widow were commanding these days.

But that was not what met him on the road.

Oh no, nothing like that.

He lowered the speed to a stop and turned the inside light of the car to better see.

“Jesus Christ…Holly hell,” he wheezed, feeling that his reaction was closer to numbness than the hysteria he should be feeling. “Chicken shit still wouldn’t look as shitty as you, get in,” he made a gesture and Negan relished the sour face that Laura made as she entered the car in a sulky silence. Her skin looked sort of burned and the leader of the Sanctuary wondered if they had anything for that at the compound. Tory had to know.

A grimace stole at his features.

He technically wasn’t speaking to her, wasn’t he?

“So, what the fuck happened? Because I think someone is trying to make a fool out of me, Laura, and I’m not going to let that shit fly.”

His lieutenant happily -if angry as well- explained in detail what had happened the night they had attacked Alexandria and how she’d discovered Dwight’s duplicity. Dwight and Simon had backstabbed him in different, gruesome ways, one more so than the other, but Negan knew how to exploit those betrayals.

Dwight would be useful.

Simon…Simon would have to be dealt with.

When they arrived at the gates of the Sanctuary, Negan smiled at the sight of the compound. It was mostly intact.

“Negan!” the overnight guard whispered his name reverently and he was happy at avoiding the scandal. “I knew it, I knew you were alive!”

Well, that made two of them.

“Hell yes, I am, but you’re not going to say a word, you understand?” the guard nodded. “Daddy’s home and is gonna be a surprise.” Anger, frustration and relief were crashing inside him. “Yeah, I got all sort of surprises to roll out.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Roy Miller seemed dully surprised to see him, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. Negan didn’t care, but he knew the man would not say a word about his arrival, because his own daughter -to whom Roy wanted to make up to- would be relieved to know her soulmate was still kicking.

Or Negan hoped so.

If that was the idea his daddy-in-law had, Negan was not going to disabuse him of that notion. The man didn’t complain when Negan took over his bed and the little shower he commanded. It was a shame they were not the same size.

“Martha brought you some clothes from up there.” Roy said, handing him the bundle of clothes and going back to…whatever he was doing. Seemed like Roy was carving toys from blocks of wood. There was a little ugly car, and something that could have been a dog.

“Martha is always a blessing.” Negan muttered, getting into clean clothes felt like heaven after his ordeal. “What are you doing, Miller?”

“Toys for the kid.” He deadpanned, shooting him a look over the black rimmed glasses he was wearing.

Negan shrugged. “Well, then I’ll take over the bed,”

“Sure thing.”

Nothing else was said as Negan worked out the finer points of his plan. Roy would have to move some of the people, and he knew where he wanted whom and how.  

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Two days

The silence was tense in the war room. Negan was not one to dedicate himself to read the room, once he had a grip on authority, he dedicated himself to the consolidation of that authority, but right now, he could tell the emotions were fraught.

“I thought they killed you and that you were gone like,” Simon snapped his fingers. “like that.”

Lucille was receiving some tender lover and care from him, the smell of the polishing oil was relaxing amidst the stress everyone was experiencing, and as such, Negan took a few moments to clean his girl after the rough couple of days they had. He let Simon talk himself into whatever this was supposed to be.

“I lacked discipline and I made it personal, and that's why I moved things from infection to extermination at the Hilltop, yes. Things went bad, but I think it's possible we might've found ourselves in a similar tactical situation regardless of approach, we don't know that.” Simon went on, justifying his monumental fuck up. And that was just one. The other lieutenants were exchanging wary looks, Negan couldn’t fault them.

“So, I'll own it, so I just ask that you give me a pass on this one, I'll make it up to you, I promise you that.”

An involuntary chuckle escaped between his lips and Negan stood up. “I remember when I took this place. When you helped me take this place.” It was more like a legend at this point, the way in which Simon had managed to get rid of every male in that community.

“Wasn't sure I wanted to keep you on board. What you did to those men and boys in that settlement? Some people would take that as some psychotic shit, like that is the work of a tormented, broken god-damned ghoul.” Negan smiled as he stood right besides Simon, with Lucille in his hands, gleaming under the light of the overhead lamps. “like that's not some guy you wanna work with, let alone stand next to, so I figured I'd keep my eye on you. And I did, and everything seemed to work out right up until this point.” His expression stopped being friendly as he worded the order. “I'm gonna need you on your knees.”

If looks could kill…The look Simon directed at him would have blown his brains out all over the table of the war room, but his right-hand man did kneel. Deciding he’d provoke the man a bit more, Negan asked:

“You'll make a move or is that it?”

“No move to make.” Was Simon’s steely answer.

Good.

“No, there isn't. All is forgiven, get your ass up, we're good.”

Simon got up with a determined expression, he seemed subdued.

Bullshit.

“I won't let you down, not you.” he promised.

“I appreciate the fuck out of that.” Negan said smoothly, directing his attention to the lieutenant he’d tasked with the markings of the strategy map.

There were eleven locations circled around the ‘x’ that represented the Hilltop.  

Negan explained the plan, how they would circle the Hilltop and what they would do as soon as someone tried to leave the farming community. What Eugene was doing and how it would benefit them in the long run. No one questioned what would be done and the how, just as it should be.

Once he was done, Negan ordered everyone out…

“Except for you Dwight. Got a few things we need to kick around.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Negan had the upper hand.

He knew it, and yet, he felt like something was wrong. He had said nothing when Roy Miller checked his injuries with critical, familiar eyes, his jaw set.

“Where’s your daughter?” he asked.

Roy sighed.

“Hiding, turns out one of your wives was cheating on you and tried to kill my kid,” the man said. “You have a certain talent to get women who would rather see you dead,”

“Not all of them,” he complained.

“Don’t I know,” Miller growled. “Tory would do well to stay the hell away from you, but she’s stubborn like her mother.”

“Gave you trouble, did she?” Negan asked.

“Erin loved our daughter to the point of stupidity,” Roy sighed, relieved for not having to stitch anything. “She became overprotective from the moment we found Tory’s marks.”

That got his attention. “When was this?”

Roy smirked. “The day she was born. You had some bad fucking timing. I promised Erin that Tory would never be with you, unless I died first.” A dry laugh filled the space and Negan frowned. “Our little girl got herself involved unwittingly, with the worst asshole ever and went to fall for him.”

They stared at each other, it was eerie, the way in which Roy Miller looked at him, like he was studying him. Negan didn’t like it.

“Victoria was always like that, giving everything for those she loved, I’m afraid she’ll do that for you and I will lose her, just like her mother.”

••• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

One day

It wasn't a big group.

But it was enough to cast doubts on his leadership, and Negan had to admire Simon for his daring. The hypocrisy of his words from just the previous day? Priceless.

It was a waste. And he would end that shit.

"Thank you D, I'll take it from here," he said, walking into the fray from behind the dumpster. "three, two, one," bullets rained down on them with extremely satisfying accuracy.

The group was no more and it was good thinking about protecting Dwight, Simon charged for the scrawny man without hesitation. He was unhinged for just a few moments, but it was enough.

"There's the Simon that I know, coming right at ya', instead of that back-stabby bullsith." Negan remarked, knowing it would irk his former man.

"Why? After all he did to you? Why do this?" Simon growled the question at Dwight, wanting to know the reason as if it wasn’t evident.

"He'd win." Dwight answered flatly. Negan grabbed Lucille qieht both hands and crushed the skull of the traitor he had closest to him.

"You killed all the garbage people, Simon, after I specifically told you not to do that shit!"

The pulp of bone, brain matter and blood didn’t give Negan satisfaction. It was a waste, even if it felt good, even if it took him more physically effort. "But after all this, and me being me, we're still gonna give you your shot,"

The baffled expression in Simon’s face lasted a few seconds and Negan smiled.

"You wanna be the man? you gotta beat the man, you can do that? Hell, you should be the man."

••• ••• •••

Every soul on the Sanctuary was called in. The silence was dense like a heavy blanket and in the circle, right in the middle, Negan and Simon were glaring at each other.

Fractured, no longer a team.

A leader and his right-hand man.

"Everyone, after this is done, we get to work, just know that I didn't want this, but the Sanctuary must stand," Simon exclaimed theatrically. "this is not the man to prosecute this conflict," he paused, looking at Negan with accusatory eyes. "Just wanted to say a grateful..." he trailed off and Tory gasped when he got the first hit with a wide swing, “thank you.” and the next, and the next.

Negan's first hit was definitely ineffective, he'd almost deflected the tackle like push and used his elbow to hit Simon's back, and Tory wanted to strangle Negan herself.

What was he thinking?!

Simon decked him in rounds of three. To the neck, to the head, to the cheek.

The familiar way in which Negan moved reminded Tory of a greco-roman wrestler and she felt like screaming.

This was his life hanging on the fucking line, not some sports practice!

It was also her life, the life of their child!

Strong arms were keeping her at bay and Tory found Lucas' wide, fearful eyes. He was trying to keep her out of sight.

“If Simon wins, you go, okay?” Tory shook her head. “The fuck you won’t!” Lucas hissed.

The lull on the fight lasted only a few seconds and Tory almost felt relief when Negan finally threw Simon to the ground, kicking his ribs and his head.

"You went for it all at Hilltop, you got Saviors killed, and then you ran away like a coward!" Negan was not shouting, but the silence was so absolute, everyone could hear him. The only thing disturbing the silence were Simon's gasps and desperate pants for air as Negan crushed his throat.

"You got shown up one too many times, those people's gonna know that there's a loophole, a way to escape!" he was angry, furious, Tory could feel the anger boiling inside her, as if it were hers. "They're always gonna be looking for the chance to fight back, and NOW I GOTTA KILL ALL OF THEM! JUST LIKE I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Simon’s neck snapped loudly, with a whip-like sound under Negan’s hand, larynx crushed due to applied, pure effort.

The silence was deafening after.

Negan clapped his hands as if cleaning them, he panted a little bit and then…

After the initial shock had passed, the notion invaded his brain. This fucker had tried to kill him.

"What an asshole."

•••   •••   •••   •••   •••

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