#negan/original female character

[c1nnamonbunny]

Brand New Beginning

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Summary: You are on your knees after being cornered by Negan's people ready to meet the man himself. Once you meet him he seems to be very interested in you.

Warnings: Negan Smith x Original Female character; Canon Death, power imbalance, violence

You shiver with fear as your gaze locks on the dirt floor beneath you. Your knees bruise on the ground that you kneel on as you hear Simon before you, "Alright we got a full boat. Let's meet the man". He knocks on the door of your old RV and you shakily lift your head. Simon strolls over to the side of your group as your heart thumps in your stomach. You feel as though you are going to be sick at any moment. Black boots hop out of the RV as you lift your gaze to the man sporting them. His smirk sends shivers down your spine as he steps towards you, gravel crunching under every step. The clearing is silent as you all nervously stare at the man before you. "Pissing our pants yet", the man addresses your group "Boy do I have a feeling we are getting close". Your breath hitches in your throat. Nervously your eyes meet the baseball bat which is swung over his shoulder and note the barbed wire encompassing the wood. "Yup gonna be pee pee pants city here real soon". A moment passes. "Which one of you pricks is the leader", your look over to Rick fear evident in your eyes. Simon points Rick out to Negan and his gaze lands on him. Negan slowly walks over to Rick, "Hi, your Rick right" he says in a tone almost too calm for the current situation. "I'm Negan" he introduces himself. "And I do not appreciate you killing my men", you shudder. "Also when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people you killed more of my people", Negan speaks down to Rick with a glint of impression in his eye. "Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is, but I think you're going to be up to speed shortly. Yeah you are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes". A tear trickles down your face as you stare worryingly at Rick, fearing what Negan has in store for him. A sadistic smile rises on Negan's face as he looks down on Rick. "You are. You see Rick whatever you do, no matter what, you don't mess with the new world order and the new world order is this and its really very simple so even if your stupid which you may well be, you can understand it.". Rick looks up at Negan as sweat drips down his face trying to hide the fear evident in his eyes. "You ready. Here goes pay attention.". Negan swings his bat near Rick's head eliciting another fearful tear to roll down your cheek as you shift uncomfortably on your knees. "Give me your shit or I will kill you... Today was career day". He begins to walk along the line in front of you as your head darts to the ground avoiding his gaze. "We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit you give it to me thats your job. Now I know that is a mighty big nasty pill to swallow but swallow it you most certainly will". He stops pacing and lands in front of Rick again pointing his bat at him. "You rule the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it, but the word is out you are not safe. Not even close. In fact you are pegged, more pegged if you don't do what I want, and what I want is half your shit, and if thats too much you can make find or steal more and it will even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So someone knocks on your door... you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us and we will knock it down. You understand". He leans in towards Rick's form cupping his hand to his ear in an attempt to prompt an answer from Rick. "What. No answer? You don't really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished now did you". You shiver as your mind races trying to find an escape. You can't seriously sit and watch as he kills one of your friends. "I don't want to kill you people just want to make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me. You can't do that if you're dead now can you. I'm not growing a garden". You breathe a sigh of relief at his words. Maybe you can all get through this. Maybe you can all live.

"But, you killed my people. A whole damn lot of em, more than I'm comfortable with and for that. For that you're gonna pay". No. You try to stifle the tears the stream down your face as you look around at your friends. They can't die. He can't kill them. "So now, I'm gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you". You silently sob trying not to bring too much attention to the obvious state of distress you are in as your process his words. He twirls his bat around before Rick's face, "This. This is Lucille, and she is awesome". You blankly stare at the bat in his hand and imagine the horrors he has inflicted with it. "All this. All this just so we can pick out one of you who gets the honour". You shake with fear on your knees as he walks over to Abraham who rises slightly as if challenging Negan to kill him. "Huh", he wipes a hand over his moustache. "I got to shave this shit", he jives at Abraham's stache. He walks back down the line and gestures to Carl, "You got one of our guns". He moves to crouch in front of him. "You got a lot of our guns". He nods at Carl, " Shit kid lighten up. At least cry a little". Negan nods his head in your direction, "She's got it down". You sniffle back your tears embarrassed as your eyes lock on him. He stands and you revert your gaze as he walks over to Maggie. "Jesus. You look shitty. Let's just put you out of your misery right now". He lifts the bat ready to strike as tears begin violently streaming out of your eyes. You bring your hand to cover your mouth as Glenn cries out, "No. No", and lunges forward to strike Negan. A saviour drags him back as Maggie screams. The saviour aims Daryl's crossbow at Glenn's neck as Negan turns his focus to him, "Nope. Nope, get him back in line". Glenn is dragged across the gravel back into position as he begs Negan, "Don't. Don't". Negan chuckles, "Aight listen. Don't any of ya do that again. I will shut that shit down no exceptions. First ones free, it's an emotional moment. I get it". He points at Glenn smirking and then turns his attention to Rick, "Suck's don't it. The moment you realise you don't know shit". Rick just stares up at him and the pit in your stomach feels as though it is going to consume you. Negan glances between Rick and Carl as a grin forms on his face. "This is your kid, right?", he chuckles, "This is definitely your kid". "Just stop this", Rick shouts out angrily. Negan points at him, "Do not make me kill the little future serial killer, don't make it easy one me. I gotta pick somebody. Everybody's at the table waiting for your order". He glances at Rick and then begins to walk slowly along the line, whistling menacingly. "I simply cannot decide", he laughs dryly, "I got an idea". He walks towards Rick and points his bat at his head, "eeny". He walks to Maggie, "meeny". Abraham, "miney". Michonne, "Mo". As he walks around the group reciting this twisted version of a children's game a fat tear rolls down your cheek. "Catch the tiger by his toe". Your eyes round in fear when his bat comes face to face with you for a split second. "If he hollers let him go", he smirks "My mother told me to pick the very best one, and you are... it", he gestures at Abraham. Your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes go blurry. "Anybody moves. Anybody says anything then I'll cut the boy's other eye out feed it to his father and then we'll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you're all about to be doing that". Rapidly he raises Lucille above his head and slams it onto Abraham. A sharp cry escapes you mouth as you violently sob into your hand. "Oh look at that taking it like a champ". You look over at Abraham with blood spilling out of his head, his eyes glazed over, and swiftly look to your knees away from the scene. "Suck. My. Nuts", Abraham responds. You stare at the ground beneath you as you sob listening to the sickening crunches of Abraham's skull becoming one with the gravel. As Negan finishes with Abraham he gazes around the group seemingly amused with everyone's reactions.

He slowly walks over and crouches in front of your shaking form as tears rack through your body. "Boy do you cry a lot", he chuckles, "I mean how do you have anymore tears left in ya". He reaches his leather cladded hand out to wipe you tears away as your wide eyes meet his. Slowly, he brings his hand to his grinning mouth and licks the tears from his gloves, "hmm". "You're not used to seeing this type of shit are you?", he smirks as his dark eyes gaze into yours. You nervously shake your head in response. "So... how does a little thing like you end up here? I mean shit you have some terrible luck on your side", he questions. "I- I came for the baby", you whisper in fear. He looks at you actually taken aback for a second, "Baby? huh funny I don't see any babies", he mocks you looking around with a hand to shield his forehead. "M-Maggie's pregnant", you reply fearfully. "Shiitt. So thats why she looks so damn fucked up", he turns and looks Maggie up and down. Then he turns back to you, "I bet it was the Asian that knocked her up huh", he laughs to himself. His face turns more serious as he stares at your trembling form, "Ya know you don't see people as innocent and sheltered as you walking around that much anymore... What's your name doll?". You whimper and meet his intense gaze, "R-Rosette". "Rosette", he replies almost as if tasting your name on his tongue, "thats cute. And how old are you, Rosette?". You hesitantly reply, "I'm twenty". He smirks clearly pleased at your response. He slowly lifts his bat to your face as you stare in horror at the flesh and blood clinging to the barbed wire wrapped around the wood. You gag as you revert your gaze, "What don't like Lucille?", he sadistically smiles. "P-please don't kill me", you beg as tears trail down your cheeks. He smirks and pulls the bat away from your face, "Relax darling I ain't gonna kill ya... No I have something better in store for you". As he moves to grip your chin Daryl suddenly lunges at him, "You stay away from her, ya hear me". A saviour comes forward and pins Daryl to the ground as Negan swings away from you to face him. "Ohhh fuck no. That is absolutely not fucking allowed", he angrily shouts at Daryl. "I gave you a free trial with him", he points his bat at Glenn, "But this I will not stand for". Overcome with adrenaline you quickly reach out and grasp the leather of Negan's jacket, "P-please no you can't kill him. Please I will do anything". He slowly turns to face your kneeling form and a deep laugh rumbles from his belly, "oh doll you don't know what the hell you're asking for here". You look behind him and sniffle back tears as you see Daryl pinned to the ground. Reverting your gaze back to Negan you respond, "I will do anything I swear just don't kill any more of my friends". Negan then stands and outstretches his leather clad hand towards you. Hesitantly you place your small hand in his and shakily rise to you feet. He pulls you towards the centre of the group and you look around at their faces staring back at you with a mixture of sympathy and fear. "Don't hurt her", Rick calls out lifting his eyes to meet Negan's. Negan chucks his head back laughing deep from his twisted soul, "Y'all seem to have a soft spot for this one eh?". Rick looks up pleadingly as Negan continues, "Relax Prick I ain't gonna kill her", he looks you up and down, "No that would be a waste". "No, she's coming with me, and if your smart, which I goddamn hope you are Rick, you will let me, because if you don't then you had better say your goodbyes now to your redneck friend here", he tilts his head towards Daryl on the ground.

Rick bites his tongue back from responding, resorting to staring at you defeatedly with pity and sadness evident in his eyes. Negan motions to his men and they swiftly pull Daryl up and haul him into the back of a nearby van and then he turns to face you. "And doll, if your smart you will heed the same warning I just gave your good pal Rick here". You look up at Negan and fearfully nod. "Thats a good girl", you cringe at his words as your gaze hits the ground. "Ahh welcome to a brand new beginning you sorry shits", he shouts at your trembling group. "We'll be back for our first offering in one week until then ta ta", he grasps your hand and pulls you towards the RV. You follow as tears leak from your eyes as you glance back at your group for the last time.

[hunterssm00n]

Natural Born Sinner / part 3 /

The Comedian has addictions too, and they include more than just cigars and violence. | Eddie Blake/OC |

part 3 of 3

also on ao3: here

*cw include dubcon smut, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, degradation, stalking, emotional/psychological abuse, misogyny, name-calling, breaking and entering, past abuse, dark themes*

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hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

What will I say? / What will I do? / Maybe it's fear / That leads your rage / Maybe you're me, and I am you

He lurched both of them forward so she was thrown up onto her knees, pushed her face first into the peach colored tile wall, and she knew it was all over. 

With one surge, she was pushed face first against the tile wall, and there was barely a beat that went by before he pushed himself inside of her. The girth and length of him stretched her and filled her so good; she let out a wild animal sound that she'd never before made in her life. 

It was all over now. 

With that first stroke, all of her resistance had evaporated. It was all him now - he took over everything like he always did. He'd never left her mind. What was the point in even trying to make him? He was right; no matter what, it always ended this way. And when it was this good, what was really so bad about it? 

Her brain was all Eddie, Eddie, EDDIE!

She moaned his name, her body rocking against the wall in time to his steady thrusts, "I hate you,"

His breathe was coming out in hot gusts against the back of her neck, and he groaned when she used her inner muscles to squeeze around him, "I know you do," He didn't even try to argue with her - he always knew the struggles she had in her mind about him. He was, in fact, irresistible, something he prided himself on. "But ya also fuckin' love me." 

In between gasps, she breathed out, "That's a load of shit!" 

Eddie chuckled deeply behind her, "That's a real sexy thing to say right now..." 

"Shut up," she moaned out, her cheek against the tile shower wall. The man behind her reached around to her front to grope at her breasts, and she whimpered at the feel of his hot, calloused hands palming her sensitive flesh. She was close already, though she didn't want to be. That would just mean he'd won, once again. "Eddie..." But God, she couldn't help it. Everything was just so good, so fucking good - it was like trying to stop a train moving at a hundred miles an hour on a dime. 

As if he could read her mind, he rumbled into her hair, "We just fit so damn good, baby; we're perfect fuckin' matchin' puzzle pieces, that's why it feels so damn good all the time, every time, that's why I can't fuckin' stay away from you and you can't fuckin' say no to me - we're two peas in a pod, hun, uh, fuckkk," He said all of this while he was fucking her, her body bouncing against the porcelain edge of the tub. 

The whole time he was babbling just brought her closer and closer to her release that she knew would be one of many this evening. Her fight was steadily receding back to the recesses of her mind as her pleasure mounted and was brought to the forefront of her brain. EddieEddieEddieEDDIE-

"Oh, no," she moaned out, unable to stop herself.

Eddie Blake chuckled into her hair, taking pride and pleasure in her defeat, "Cum for me, 'Chelle,"

She let out another animal noise that she'd never made; one of pure pleasure and defeat as her sweet release exploded; he was right. She couldn't say no to him. Only he could bring her this type of pleasure, give her this kind of high. Only. Him. 

He slowed at her back as she came down from her orgasm, kissing her hair, her neck, her shoulders. She openly shivered at the feel of his scratchy beard on her soft skin, but it was a good feeling. The thought of defying him did nothing for her anymore; it had all been zapped from her mind with that first release. Her body that had once been held rigid against him with defiance was now liquid and compliant. Her limbs contained no further fury to fight at the moment. Maybe tomorrow she would feel different, but now, she didn't care. Right now was all about her and him. 

He had not come yet; he wouldn't for a while, she knew, and he gently turned her around in his arms in the bathtub and pulled her in to kiss him on the lips. "Baby..." She openly accepted his kiss now, the fight gone from her body, satisfaction having turned her bones to liquid and satiating her for that moment. His tongue met with hers and she let out a low moan against his lips, kissing him back lazily. The wet sounds of their lips meeting gave her a tingly feeling in her lower back, and she felt the familiar arousal slowly returning to her core. She didn't want to fight anymore tonight. She wanted to be with him like a lover, to enjoy his company like he was her boyfriend. She didn't want to fight anymore; she just wanted him.

This was it. He'd broken her down once again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and accepted his embrace, pressing her damp breasts against his equally damp chest. The hair on his chest tickled her nipples and she tried to scoot her lower body closer to his across the bottom of the tub. It was easier said than done; the bath was barely big enough for one person, let alone two people, and one of them being built like a linebacker. Bed. Move to the bed. The thought made her breath quicken and her throat suddenly parched with thirst for him, and she started to rise up out of the bathtub, her hands not letting go of him. He must have misunderstood because he held fast to her waist as she tried to stand up off of her sore knees that she knew would have bruises all over them. "Where you goin'?" came his rasping voice, sounding ferocious, his brown eyes alight with a dangerous fire.

She gulped, her breaths coming heavy with her own arousal, chest heaving, "I- There's more room in the bed," She barely got the words out before he rose up out of the water, holding her body flush against his and pulling her up with him. Apparently she didn't have to tell him twice. When they were both standing and she was flush against him and she realized once again how much he towered over her, how much bigger his body was than hers, the musky smell of him permeating all of her senses. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn't he be disgusting, not charming, not handsome? It wasn't fair. Maybe a stronger woman could resist him, but she wasn't that woman. She wanted him and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Between her legs ached, and she rose on tiptoes to press her hips against his to try and relieve some of the pressure, hoping his cock would slide between her legs and rub against her soaking wet lips.

"Thought you wanted to go to the bed?" One of his big hands tangled into her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck, She let out a wordless whine as he licked a hot, wet line up her neck to her earlobe, where she felt his scruffy chin scrape her skin deliciously. "That's okay, we can go there after."

After?

Then he hoisted her up into his strong arms without warning, her thighs on either side of his hips and his hard flesh pressed against her core. Moaning with need as he pressed her back against the wall, she gripped his broad, sinewy shoulders with both hands as he pressed his hard, steel rod into her glossy opening. "Ohh, fuck, doll, you're so fuckin' wet," he groaned as he began thrusting at a steady pace. The pleasure between her legs exploded almost immediately, and her head lolled back against the tile wall, desperate sounds of pleasure winding their way out of her throat. "Fuck yeah, this what you like baby? Is this what you want?" he huffed as his hips bounced against hers with a wet slapping noise. He spread her open so exquisitely, fully filling her to the brim and giving her a sensation of being stretched that was unmatched. No one else could make her feel like this. Yes she did like this, yes this is exactly what she wanted. At this angle he was grinding against her clit, and with a shriek she came again, her walls clenching down on his cock and her nails digging into his shoulder sinew. "Yes baby yes," His hips stuttered against hers, and he gave a final hard thrust as he spilled himself inside of her. "Oohhh fuckkk," He grunted and held them both there for a few minutes, both of them and trying to catch their breath.

And then he said, "Now, what was it you were sayin' about a bed?" 

Michelle looked at him for a moment before she broke out into giggles - giggles like she was a fucking schoolgirl or something. She realized she was probably drunk on his presence; that was what she would chalk it up to. "You're insufferable." She shook her head, but couldn't help the smile on her face. 

"I'll show you insufferable, baby," With that, he hoisted her up into his arms so they were no longer leaning against the wall in the bath, instead he was supporting them on his two legs with her in his arms. He leaned in to kiss her, his tongue lapping at hers as he stepped out of the bathtub with her in his arms, his large hands holding onto her thighs and ass to keep her elevated in his arms. She kissed him back with fervor, not caring about anything else at the moment. She just wanted to enjoy his presence like he was a normal man, and she was a normal woman. She knew it was hypocritical of her to be cursing his name one moment and (screaming it) kissing him the other, but right now she simply did not care. He'd made her come more than once tonight so far, and she knew he was bound to make her come plenty more times this evening. Heaven knew they had a long night ahead of them; she just wanted to relax and enjoy it without feeling guilty or angry at him, or herself. She was just too damn tired to keep up the act tonight. His presence had a way of doing that to her.

She felt a cool, hard surface under her backside, jumping a little at the unexpected contact, and when she opened her eyes she realized he had walked them into the kitchen and had placed her down on the counter top where he'd first cornered her. 

"This is where it should have happened first." 

The hair on the back of her beck rose, and she knew what was going to happen before it even did. "Eddie-" She was cut off by him leaning down and taking a ripe nipple into his mouth, lightly scraping his teeth across the hard bud. Much like before, she leaned her head back with a smack against her cabinets on the wall, a hiss of pleasure escaping through her teeth. She felt his calloused fingers trailing down her hips, over the tops of her thighs to slip between them, coaxing them further open. She anticipated the feel of those fingers on her core before it even happened - she was practically holding her breath in anticipation. At the first swipe of his fingers on her soaked cunt, dripping with their mixed fluids, it was like a zap of electricity that shot through her whole body. Despite him already just having made her come - a few times - every touch of his fingers felt brand new, like she was a virgin all over again, and he was going to he her first lover. Any other lover she'd ever had couldn't hold a candle to this man, and that was a fact. 

She nearly jolted off of the countertop and onto the floor when she felt his lips replace his fingers, and a gasp came from her throat that she couldn't control. One of his hands reached up to fondle a breast while the other held her thigh open so he could better reach his target. He wasn't kidding when he said he was insufferable. He was literally eating her out on top of her kitchen counter. The surface underneath her was going to be disgusting tomorrow morning, covered with a mixture of water, her fluids, his cum and saliva. That thought came and went quickly though, as it was hard to focus on anything other than the immense pleasure she was feeling. 

He sucked her clit into his mouth, hard, and her body jumped like she'd been zapped. She moaned loudly, the combination of his tongue and fingers and scruff of his beard making her so aroused. "Eddie..." 

He rose from his place between her legs, his hands remaining on her hips. He kissed up her body until he got to her lips, and she could taste herself on his tongue, mixed with his own semen. Their mingled fluids were steadily soaking the countertop she was sitting on; she could feel the slick mixture between her thighs and under them. He was vile, but she would have been lying if she said that wasn't attractive to her. From him, at least. She would have never let anyone else do this to her; never let anyone else do half of the things they had done to each other. 

Suddenly he pulled her up off of the counter, her backside sliding easily across the surface from the liquids pooling underneath her. She expected him to pick her up and carry her to the aforementioned bed. She was surprised again when he set her on her feet and turned her around so she was facing the counter and the cabinets, and she realized, at this moment, he wasn't quite done with her here yet. With one big hand on the middle of her back, he pushed her facedown onto the wet surface, her heavy breasts mushing into the puddle of sticky liquid. 

"Tell me you want it," came his lust shredded voice from above and behind her. 

Had she more will to withstand his power, maybe she would have held out further. He was too strong; too good. And he knew he could break her into pieces. Maybe he wouldn't have wanted a stronger woman. Maybe he thought she was perfect just the way she was. Why did that thought sound so right, so good? Especially since it couldn't have been true; Eddie Blake had hundreds of women chasing him at all times. How did he do this to her? Why did he have this effect on her? 

She gulped, but didn't say anything. The words were still caught in her throat, surprisingly enough. Even after all they had done so far, this was the part she was having trouble with. Because he was such a narcissist, he wanted her to tell him exactly how much she wanted him - as though he couldn't see her right here, naked and willing before him, dripping with water and sweat and various other juices. God damn him.

"Please, Eddie, cut the shit and just..." 

He rubbed the tip of his cock against her entrance, already hard again. She highly doubted he was ever soft. He felt so good just brushing against her slit; she thought she would die if he didn't push himself inside of her.

"Just what, baby?" 

She laid her forehead down on the cool surface she was bent over, and growled out, "Just fuck me, goddammit." 

His laughter came from the same place that his voice had, somewhere above and behind her, His big hands grabbed hold of her hips, lining himself up with her entrance. "With pleasure." And then he entered her with one big shove. Immediately he began a rough, fast pace, his hips smacking hard against her backside and making a wet slapping noise of skin on skin in quick succession. One hand stayed on her hip while the other reached up and grabbed the back of her neck to keep her chest down on the countertop. Her chest made wet squeaking noises on the damp surface as her body forcefully rocked with each hard thrust. He wasn't holding back now. 

"Is this what you like, bitch? Huh?" he ground out. This was the real Eddie Blake. Rough, not gentle or loving. A cold bastard. And god she loved it. All she could do was moan his name over and over and over. She felt herself getting closer with every earth shattering thrust. She knew her whole body would be sore tomorrow; knew there would be bruises everywhere. But she also knew it would be worth it. 

"Eddddiiiiieeee," Her voice was jumbled from the forceful pounding her backside was taking by his hips, brutal and uncaring. Justified by his own proclamation in his constant state of self-righteousness. He was owed something by the world, according to him. And this was just him simply taking what he was due. 

Her poor pussy ached, and she couldn't tell how many times she had come around his cock as he'd been pounding into her on her kitchen counter, but from the squelching noises where their bodies met and the rivulets of sticky liquid running down her legs, she knew it had been quite a few times.

"Who's fuckin' pussy is this?" 

"Y- Yours," She sounded drugged, her words slurred. 

"Who's?" The hand that had been on her hip smacked her ass cheek, hard. There would be a mark from that tomorrow, too. 

"Yours, Eddie, it's yours." She felt heat rising once again, and she moaned, her fingers gripping the edges of the countertop she was being rutted against. She was a tough woman, she thought - she shouldn't enjoy being degraded like this. 

"That's what I fuckin' thought." He said this with each hard thrust. That's. What I. Fuckin'. Thought. 

Without warning, her orgasm overtook her, as the main railing into her was practically yelling: "Say my name, baby!" 

"Eddie! Eddie!" she shrieked out, and he gave one last final shove into her with a shout as he came as well, his hot seed filling her womb once again. 

Michelle was completely exhausted. She could hear Eddie behind her sounding none too lively himself as the two of them each tried to catch their breath. After what must have been a few minutes but felt like mere seconds, she felt herself being lifted up off of the countertop. Her legs were so tired and sore she didn't know if she could stand, but somehow she did. Her knees wobbled as the man behind her took her hand and turned her around, then led her towards the bedroom - her bedroom. She was too tired to protest as he opened the door and walked the small expanse of the room until he got to her bed. Lazily, he flopped down onto her mattress, and she couldn't even muster an eyeroll at the self satisfied grin on his lips. Everything was almost a blur at the moment, she was so tired. He pulled her down onto the bed with him, got her pillows situated, got them both snuggled under the covers, and she could feel sleep pulling at her as she laid against his warm skin.

Tonight, she would pretend. But just for tonight, she told herself as she drifted off into slumber. 

"Damn, I missed you, doll." came his voice near her ear, also sleepy with satisfied lust.

She had missed him, too. 

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AN: I do not own the Watchmen franchise or any of it's characters. Michelle is my own OC. I also do not own the song 'Natural Born Sinner' by In This Moment. The above photos are from pinterest, and have links attached to the original posts.

[megggyeggy]

Masterlist

The Ghost Band

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Terzo (Smut)

Secondo (Smut)

The Walking Dead

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Negan

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Negan

FNAF

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William Afton

Mike Schmidt

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DC

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YOUTUBERS

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Supernatural

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The Boys

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Game of Thrones

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Sandor Clegane (Non-con)

Imagines

[kaizenwaus]

five hundred sixteen days gone

The worn off denim did nothing to protect the woman's knees from the sand and small stones that made the gravel adorning the forest's ground, not even shifting her weight from one knee to another would ease the pain of her skin fighting not to break. Although all the stinging on her skin and burning on her muscles was nothing compared to the fear and uncertainty that surrounded the clearing.

Everything was... Perfectly set for this exact moment. Almost as if they had taken their time preparing this area for this. The woman could imagine the bald man with the thick mustache cutting down trees that morning, meanwhile the blond man with the burnt face cleaned everything off as well as he planned how to lure the group to this location. Then one of them had to tell the rest of their friends about the place and the time to meet up, and they had to decide the formation of all their vehicles and the armed men. If that had been the case, they did a good job. The scene was, in fact, quite... Intimidating.

The group of survivors, sinners of innocence and naivety, were on their knees, forming half a circle in front of the motorhome that Eugene had been driving just minutes ago. There were also a couple of cars and other vehicles on the sides, their headlights dazzling the survivors and their engines loud in contrast to the silence of the night.

Behind them stood the army of men and women that called themselves the Saviours, each of them holding a firearm if not two. In front of them there were only three men: the bald man with a distinctive mustache, the blond dude with a burnt face, and... The man. The boss. The leader. Negan himself.

He looked just like Sierra had imagined him: disgustingly smug. He wore dark pants, with a leather belt hanging way too low to be comfortable. It was a cold night, so he also wore a leather jacket with a red scarf around his neck. All of this paired up with leather boots and his weapon of choice: a baseball bat.

This bat, whose name was Lucille (as the man had introduced her), had barbed wire around the top of it, which seemed kind of useless against the undead but was incredibly painful for the living.

Eenie...

After introducing himself and the bat, the man explained the reason why they decided to meet up on this beautiful starry night. He paced from one end of the line of survivors to the other, swinging his bat around as he talked and talked and talked...

The survivors were sweating, the bravest ones looking around frantically to find a way to get out of this situation, but the man did not even let them finish a thought as he laughed loudly or got too close to someone with Lucille.

Meenie...

It was nauseating how free and careless he was, walking around as he sang this stupid little song for kids. Even though he was intimidating, Sierra truly questioned if the man was capable of killing one of them randomly. Deep down she thought this was just his little show, that his random pick was going to be a core member of the group: Rick, Daryl, Michonne, or even herself, she thought. There was also the possibility that Negan only wanted to weaken the leader by killing someone close to him: Carl or Michonne.

Would he really pick someone randomly?

Miney...

Sierra wanted to think a human would not be able to murder someone in cold blood, without a true motive. There was a motive, denying it would be straight up lying, but there were a fair amount of people in this line up that did not participate in said killing.

Questioning human behavior in the context of a literal zombie apocalypse was somewhat difficult if they were trying not to be hypocrites too, so maybe he was going to do as he said. Maybe, as he sang and as he pointed randomly at different survivors he was truly picking someone to kill. Maybe, for him this was just a game.

Mo...

The wielder of the named bat stood in front of Carl, causing everyone to cringe at the thought of the teenager becoming this psychopath's victim. But they were able to breathe again as the man continued his game – ironically, considering that if Carl was not the one tagged then the odds of being of them just rose.

Catch...

Rosita.

A tiger...

Rick.

By...

Eugene.

His toe...

Daryl.

My mother...

Michonne.

Told me...

Glenn.

To pick...

Aaron.

The very best one...

Maggie.

And you're...

Sierra. Negan left his bat staring at the blonde for a few more seconds than anybody else before her, he even bent down to stare right at her, taking in the hateful look the woman was giving him. Without breaking eye contact, the man smirked, winked at her and took blind aim with his bat as he sketched the last word of his song: it.

Abraham.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything..." the man started speaking with a smirk on his face after he looked at who Lucille had chosen, slowly and almost teasingly walking away from the blonde woman to face his victim "Cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we'll start"

The bravery and strength with which Abraham presented himself to his soon-to-be murderer was highly admirable. The red-haired man refused to be submissive to the man's inflated ego, he could not forgive himself if his actions fed that man's grotesque and disgusting attitude. Much to Abraham's dismay, this façade only made Negan both flattered and challenged, making him want to prove what he could be able to do. To prove how much of a cold-blooded killer he could be. How much he truly did not care about their lives and only about what they could do for him.

"You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry..." the man chuckled, firmly gripping his beloved bat and lifting it up slowly "Hell, you're all gonna be doing that"

Abraham was standing straight, subtly giving his most recent lover the hand signal they had translated to "I love you" as she silently broke down before everyone. On the opposite side, his ex-girlfriend could not even watch the scene. Watching the man she had learnt to love standing tall on his knees, keeping eye contact with the monster that was about to end his life. Not everyone was able to watch, it was not only Rosita (his former partner) that looked away into the distance as tears streamed down her face. Others, who were not as close to Abraham as Sasha (his lover) was, also dared to watch as Negan cruelly attacked the man.

Gasps, sobs, cries... Those were the noises that took over the crickets as the bat was smashed against Abraham's skull. The echo of the hit was painful, you could almost hear the metal spikes digging into his skin, the blood gushing down his face, Abraham's incoherent mumbles as he tried to speak his last words: "Suck... My... Nuts"

Negan laughed at him before hitting him again, this time harder and leaving him on the ground. He even taunted him, repeating his last words as he looked to his followers to further enjoy his mockery of the victim. He hit him again, and again, and again, and again... He fully raged at the corpse, letting all his anger out on the innocent man's man until his red hair was too faded with the blood to point it out. In Negan's head, this was his revenge for all the Saviors Rick's group had murdered.

If the roles had been reversed, Sierra would not have considered this enough of a punishment. But her perspective of the situation could not let her think too much about it, at least rationally. Her mind was occupied by the little drops of blood that had fallen on Rosita's face, or how Sasha just had to witness the death of her lover very much like she had to a few years ago (without all the cruelty, surely).

The violence and helplessness surrounding the scene were too overwhelming for the woman to be able to have any other thoughts that did not involve wishing for Negan's death or planning how to murder him and his entire group. It was not only overwhelming for her, but also for everyone and everything around her. It was visible, palpable... So noticeable that not even the undead (or walkers, as Sierra had grown accustomed to call them) dared to approach the small clearing in the forest. Not even the walking dead dared to interrupt Negan's moment, his superiority and control over everyone else scarily good as well as incredibly infuriating.

Sierra's stomach was growling in disgust, her breath going faster, her heart pumping what felt like lava in her chest... She bit her tongue, pinched the skin on her wrists to keep herself from fighting back or talking back to him.

"You guys, look at my dirty girl!" the man yelled, showing off his bloody bat and swinging it around in the air – bits and pieces of Abraham's something flying off, until he just pointed the weapon at Rosita, who still could not dare to look at it "Sweetheart... Look at this"

Her eyes were fixated on the red tinted gravel, too shocked to even register tha taunting words of the man responsible for it. Negan enjoyed the state she was in, he watched her and smiled at how miserable she was and how powerful that made him, continuing his tormenting: "Oh, were you together? That sucks!"

Each word that left his mouth was one more log of wood thrown into the fire growing within Sierra. Her chest was growing tighter, her heart pumping faster and her skin getting hotter... Her whole body became a bomb, the clock showing how many seconds until it exploded being each and every word Negan directed towards her friend.

"But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this" he laughed.

Ten seconds. Ten more cruel words is all she needed...

"Red -- and hell, he was, is, and will ever be"

The blonde woman growled in an animalistic way as she jumped off the ground and lunged towards the man, grabbing him by his crimson scarf to hold him in place and punching his face with her other hand. She was fisting the scarf so hard that he did not even move one inch, his neck and jaw taking all the pain and movement. Before she could land another hit, two of his men grabbed her from behind and pulled her away from him, attempting to tackle her to the ground.

Attempting.

Sierra managed to avoid being immobilized by the two Saviours, pushing and punching them until one of them was knocked out by the motorhome and the other one was in a headlock.

She heard Rick calling her name as a warning, while Negan frowned at her in pure and raw anger. He huffed, and she watched. Everyone watched, holding their breaths, as Negan and Sierra stared at each other in a silent war.

"Let him go" a man behind her talked as she felt a crossbow she knew too damn well pressed against the back of her "Or this will be the last thing you do"

She looked briefly towards her found family, all of them scared of what was about to happen to either them or her. It was Carl that slightly nodded to her, letting her know that the best thing she could do right now is listen.

Very slowly, she let go of the man and raised her hands in the air. The man walked away from her, holding his neck in discomfort, meanwhile the man behind her kicked the back of her knee and grabbed her hair to make her look up at Negan.

"Who do you think you are?" he spat angrily at her, almost in a whisper.

"Your worst fucking nightmare" she smirked.

As soon as those words left her mouth, she was hit by the consequences of her own actions. Lucille collided against her cheek with almost superhuman strength, breaking her skin with the force of impact and the barbed wire dragging against her flesh. It was such a strong blow that Sierra fell to her side, barely managing to collect herself with her hands.

"That!" Negan spoke to the rest of the group while pointing at the injured woman with his bat "That is a no-no! That whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!"

His words reverberated against her skull as her heartbeat moved to the bleeding wound on her face, her whole vision turning red and in her ears growing an uncomfortable ringing. Someone close to her, probably the man that threatened her with Daryl's crossbow, dragged his unconscious colleague away from the motorhome – thus leaving a clear path for Sierra to crawl under the vehicle and hide as Negan ranted.

"Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with... But I'm a man of my word. I already told you people, first one's free, then what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down!"

Sierra was halfway under the motorhome when someone dragged her out by her ankle, exposing her torso and dragging her skin against the gravel. The man turned her around, making her face him as he pointed the crossbow to her head. She blindly tried to cover her face, her hands clumsy as her vision was deprived of focus and other colors beside red, still she was able to see the blond man with a burnt face speaking to her: "Where do you think you're going?"

"Please..." she whispered, struggling to speak as her mouth filled up with her own blood.

"You've got guts, lady" Negan looked down at her, before turning to the blond man "Dwight, load her up, I like her"

The man, now known as Dwight, grabbed the woman by her hair and dragged her towards a black van. She kicked her legs and yelled in pain, in way too much pain to try to put on a façade in front of the Saviors. In a desperate attempt to avoid being taken, she went to grab... Something. Her left hand flew to the floor, trying to grab some kind of anchor that would keep her from being abducted.

But it was the anchor that found her. Glenn's hand went over hers and gave her a reassurance squeeze, too fast to be noticed by anyone else besides them. She knew what it meant. She knew it was a silent promise, an oath to her that she would not be held against her will too long – and he was going to make sure of that.

Dwight threw her in the back of the van rather aggressively, making her whole body ache more (if that was even possible). She used the last bit of her strength to lunge towards him, but her fist was met by the van's doors being closed right in front of her.

"Feisty, just how I like them" she could hear Negan talking to her people, dwelling on his own gain and the group's loss of a great asset "She's mine now, so... Back to it!"

Sierra only managed to hear a loud thud, similar to the sound of Lucille crashing against Abraham's skull, accompanied by gasps and a woman crying out: "No!"

She hit the van's doors in frustration, hearing the suffering of her friends combined with her own physical pain becoming too much for her, until she eventually felt herself give up to the blood loss and overstimulation. Her knees got weaker and she could no longer hold herself up, her stomach growled as her chest heaved, her heart finally relaxing and her face going numb. She brought her hand up to her open wound, feeling the wetness and roughness of blood mixed with gravel against the tips of her fingers – perfect cocktail for an infection, she thought.

Her back was resting against the van's walls, feeling how they vibrated from the noises coming from outside. She tried to fight off the tiredness that overcame her, but her eyelids seemed to have grown independent from her brain's orders. Slowly all the tension left her body as she felt herself weighting more as she let go... Pain and life threatening anemia made her shut her body down to a comatose state, the last words she was able to register from outside echoing through the van's walls:

No exceptions.

[ophelia-jones]

May

8, 1880

Isadora was dirty and exhausted from her travels and her heart was laden with a steely grief which people told her time would ease. She knew, though, that these were empty words meant to ease the pain of the early days of loss.  The grief would not go away, rather it would become a burden she was accustomed to carrying. 

Eight months earlier she had returned to El Paso with her beloved Madre' who wanted to die in the town where she was born and be buried beside her parents.  Her father was a surgeon barber and though he wanted to accompany Maria, he had not dared lose his livelihood to make the journey.

Though the idea of Isadora traveling alone terrified him, he had put his faith in God and allowed her to undertake the task of seeing her mother home.

At least she did not need to cross the border, Hank had said, much to Maria's chagrin. El Paso had been a Mexican city when she was a girl, though it had eventually seceded to Texas but Maria's heart had always been with Mexico.

Isadora had been born in Texas after her parents were wed, and they had moved around the southwestern territories most of her youth.  They had finally found a home in New Hope Wyoming when she was a girl of 11. It was the first place she had felt accepted as she was, and not shunned by the Hispanic people for being half-white or called cruel names by whites for the same. She understood how Madre' felt about El Paso because it was the way she felt about New Hope. It was her home . 

At least the majority of the travel had been able to be accomplished by train, the Union Pacific railway had made possible the sort of journey that had once been in a lifetime for many people more accessible. 

Now, however, the train had taken her as far as it could and she would need a stagecoach to complete her trek. She sighed with relief as she settled into the covered carriage, despite knowing it would be a far from comfortable ride home. The carriage shook as the driver loaded her luggage into the boot and strapped it down. 

An immaculately dressed, well-groomed young man with ash brown hair and soulful grey eyes boarded first, offering Isadora a polite but proper nod and smile of greeting. Outside the carriage, there was a commotion between the coach driver and a woman, presumably another passenger for the trip to New Hope.

Soon a woman with flaming red curls climbed into the coach with a dramatic sigh. She wore a suede riding skirt with no bustle and an almost scandalously high hemline that fell just below the knees, and a white linen blouse long duster made of the same buckskin suede as the skirt. She also had a prominent holster on each hip containing a Lemat revolver in each. As soon as the doors were closed the woman began loosening the buttons on the neck of her blouse and fanning herself. 

Isadora averted her eyes at the woman's lack of modesty and tried to focus on the landscape passing outside her window.

"Mary Kate, your immodesty is disconcerting to proper ladies, we've discussed this a great many times," the young man scolded his companion.

"Oh for feck's sake, Aaron just because yer an old niminy-piminy doesn't mean everyone else is. I've got nothing she hasn't seen afore!" the woman declared with a thick Irish accent.

"Allow me to apologize, madam. My cousin has never been one for proper etiquette I'm afraid. I hope it doesn't trouble you too greatly," the young man said. He was soft-spoken and seemed sincerely kind to Isadora and she smiled at him in response.

"It doesn't trouble me, it's one of the better things about being home. Expectations are relaxed when it comes to manners," she said, stealing a glance at the fiery-haired woman. The gentleman's accent said east coast - Philidelphia, perhaps. The pair could not have been more unlike. 

"Aaron Murphy, Ma'am. This is my unruly cousin, Mary Kathleen Byrne," he introduced himself politely and Isadora turned to stare at the woman, her jaw dropping at the name as she put two and two together. 

"Wildfire Kate, the gambler?" She asked, and Kate's blue eyes lit up.

"See, Aaron, she's not such an old sage hen. She reads the papers." Kate nudged her cousin.  Aaron pressed his lips together in distaste; he was not a fan of pulp fiction. 

"Did you really beat Doc Holiday in a shootout?" Isadora asked, the corner of her mouth twitching up in excitement.

"Ach, no. I could, t'be sure, but I've yet to meet the man. He's avoiding me, I say," she said playfully, her steel blue eyes dancing.  Isadora could not help but return her smile, the woman's effervescent personality hard to resist.

"What brings you up to New Hope?" Isadora asked the pair, genuinely curious. New Hope wasn't a particularly large place and not a tourist destination by any means.

"I hear there's a man up that way making a name for himself, has done so well at the tables he went and started buying property up this way, I wanted to test his mettle, if ye will," She replied.

"Are you talking about Negan Smith?" Isadora groaned. The man was a menace. 

"That's the man himself! D'ya know him, then?" Kate asked.

"I do. He was a cowhand that drifted from ranch to ranch when he was younger, did an apprenticeship as a blacksmith, then he tried his hand at mining for gold up in the mountains. He did well with that, and that's when he started gambling. He did even better at that, I suppose. Now he owns a ranch not far from New Hope with more cattle than anyone in the county but Herschel Green. He also owns the dance hall in town, and a lot of folks think he's aiming to run for Mayor next." Isadora informed her.

"A real Jack-of-all-trades, eh? How is he with a pistol?" Kate wanted to know.  Isadora scoffed.

"He considers himself the best there is, from what I understand. He has a Colt Peacemaker he calls 'Lucille' that he terrorizes people with." 

"Sounds like just the sorta fella what needs to be brought down a peg or two. Sounds like fun, time!" Kate winked at Isadora. 

Suddenly, the stagecoach lurched forward, they could hear the reinsman cracking his whip and trying to drive the horses harder. The shotgun guard was calling out, but they could not understand his words amidst the clatter and bang of the carriage as it bounced dangerously fast over rocks and holes. The wheels were term long on their axles and it seemed a sure thing that at least one would soon break or come off.  Then they heard the boom of the guard's shotgun.

"Is it Indians, do you think?" Aaron asked, his eyes nervous. 

"More likely road agents. Relations with the tribes that once resided here are mostly peaceful these days. The Indian wars were awful but things have been quiet since," Isadora said, shocking even herself with her ability to remain collected.

"Highwaymen?" Kate said, arching a ginger eyebrow. "Well they're in for a surprise," she drew both pistols and checked that they were fully loaded. There was another shot, and another, followed by a horrible thump as the shotgun guard fell from his post. 

The driver reined the horses in and they came to an abrupt stop, Isadora thrown forward on top of Kate. She had no time to right herself before the doors were yanked open on each side and two men with bandanas tied around their lower faces pointed pistols at them.

"Hands up! I don't wanna see none o' you reaching for NOTHING, ya hear me? You breathe the wrong way and it'll be the last breath you ever take!" the taller of the two men yelled at them. He was thin and had the darkest, most dangerous blue eyes Isadora had ever seen. She believed the man would follow through with his threats. 

As Isadora managed to sit upright in her seat once more, she caught a glimpse of Kate looking very frustrated with the fact that she had accidentally prevented her from drawing her weapons. Isadora couldn't think about it at the moment, her mind was on trying not to panic.

"Well, what have we here?" The highwayman announced, sounding more than a little pleased at the sight of the pistols. Kate cursed at the man but cooperated as he removed the pistols from their holsters and handed over a was of bills she'd had secured in her boot. While he busied himself with taking everything of value Kate had in her, the other man focused on Aaron and Isadora.

"Hand over your money and your jewelry, any weapons, too," he demanded, his voice a low growl. This man, still taller than average despite being slightly shorter than the other, had the broadest shoulders Isadora had ever seen.  He wore a brown leather hat with a broad brim and shaggy brown hair that covered nearly every bit of his face which wasn't hidden by the bandana. As she slipped the rings off her fingers and untied the purse from her wrist, she caught sight of his silver blue eyes and hesitated. She was struck with the thought that this man was just as frightened as she was. Just as trapped. 

"And the necklace," he said, gesturing to the gold chain around her neck with his gun.

"Oh, no, please sir, this is all I have left of mi madre, my mother. Anything else, but this is a reliquia de familia!" she was ashamed at how quickly the tears sprang to her eyes. She knew it was foolish to beg a robber, it was only delaying the inevitable and might well agitate him enough to get her killed. But there was something about this man, a kindness in his eyes…

"Don't fall for that boohooing bullshit!" the first man yelled across the coach as the long-haired man hesitated. 

"We got what we need, let's go!" the kind-eyed man retorted.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" the other robber demanded. He looked Isadora up and down for a moment, then reached out and rubbed a lock of her long black hair between his fingers.  "Although, she is a prize in and of herself, ain't she? Maybe you should come along with us, sugar. Then you don't need to part with your 'reliquia'." 

Isadora's chest tightened, her heart beating so quickly that she began to tremble. She couldn't even find the strength to speak.  Suddenly, a strong hand reached out and grabbed the locket firmly, and with a sharp tug the chain broke and the hesitant man snatched it away from her.

"You happy? Let's GO!" he yelled at the other man before turning to mount his horse. The leader of the highwaymen, she could see now that there were at least two other riders on horseback keeping watch over their brethren as they robbed the passengers, kept his eyes on Isadora for a long silent moment. When he finally turned and mounted his horse she finally breathed out - and began to sob.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph I coulda stopped 'em if I'd had half a chance to get me guns!" Kate exclaimed angrily. "I fecking hate being outdrawn!"

Aaron opened the door and stepped out quietly.

"And where are you off to?" Kate asked him, sounding annoyed.

"I'm going to see if there is anything I can do for the guard or the driver," he explained calmly.  He was the only one of the three who had kept his head during it all. His concern for the others brought both women out of their selfish reveries.

Isadora hurried from the coach to discover that the driver was uninjured but had been robbed, bound, and gagged in case he had any thoughts of giving chase. The shotgun guard, however, was on the ground with a broken arm and a shotgun wound to his chest. 

"He's still breathing, help me get him into the carriage!" Isadora said, the years of helping her father take over her thoughts. She moved with purpose as the four of them lifted the injured man into the coach. Kate sat up with the driver, taking the shotgun position even though the bandits had taken the shotgun. Aaron sat beside Isadora and they tried to keep the man as comfortable as possible for the rest of the bumpy journey.

"Thank the Lord they didn't steal the horses," Aaron murmured at one point.

"They knew what they could get away with," Isadora replied, "they'd be shot or hanged for stealing horses."

"Right. Of course," Aaron replied. He had only been west of Pennsylvania for a few months and still wasn't entirely familiar with the ways of the wild west.

When they arrived in the town the stagecoach pulled up to the station and Kate disembarked hurriedly, opening the door for the others.

"Aaron, would you go down the street and find my father? He's the barber-surgeon, his shop is just down there on the left!" Isadora asked her new acquaintance, then turned to Kate "And Kate, go to the jail and get the Sheriff." She herself was still applying pressure to the worst of the man's wounds to stem the bleeding.

********************************* 

Sheriff Rick Grimes was reading over a telegraph for the third time, trying to make sense of the why and how of the message. He had been doing everything within reason to catch the highwaymen who had been robbing the good people of this county for the past few months, and he was confident that he would catch the men in time. So why had Mayor Gregory sent for help from the Pinkerton Agency in Chicago? 

He was more than irritated at the man overstepping his place.  Rick was the Sheriff of the county, and Gregory was responsible only for what happened within the town limits. He was about to call into the man's home to demand some answers when a woman with wild red curly hair burst in.

"What the hell?" Shane cried out, standing up quickly from behind the desk where he had been nearly dozing. Shane was Rick's Deputy, and though other men were also deputies, Shane was the only one who was paid for his work. The others all made their living in other ways but could be called on when there was a need. 

"The stagecoach has been robbed, and a man has been shot, in case you were interested," she announced, her Irish lilt sassy and judgemental to Rick's ears.

He and Shane both hurried to follow the woman, arriving at the stagecoach at the same time as Beau Landry, the local barber-surgeon. Before long, they had the man carried into the jail and placed him on the cot so he could be treated for his injuries. 

Once they had done all there was to do, and Kate, Aaron, and the driver had filled the officers in on everything they could recall about the robbery, Rick watched through the doorway as the woman with the black hair and dark eyes washed the blood from the injured man's face and reassured him.  Her father had gone to the chemist for some laudanum to ease the man's pain and help him to rest.

"Miss Landry?" Rick said from the doorway. "How are you? Were you injured?" 

Isadora sighed and stood to face the sheriff. Her hair had come down from where it had been pinned up neatly on the back of her head when the day had begun. Her black mourning dress was dirty from kneeling on the ground to aid the man and stained with his blood. Her deep brown eyes were weary and filled with sorrow, and Rick's heart ached for her. He felt as if he had failed her by not stopping these robberies sooner. 

She was a striking beauty, even disheveled as she was, and there was a strength in her dark eyes he had rarely seen in most men, let alone a young woman. He found himself staring and yet despite knowing it was bad manners, couldn't quite tear his eyes away.

"I'm uninjured, Sheriff Grimes, gracias. Only tired." she smiled weakly.

"Do you think you can tell me about the men? Anything you noticed, anything at all no matter how small." 

"There were four of them. They were covered from head to toe, except for their eyes. I'm not sure I saw anything that would help," she replied, thinking of those blue eyes. She didn't know why, but she couldn't bring herself to mention them.

"I'll find them, they will pay for doing this to you," he told her earnestly. 

"Where are you from, Sheriff Grimes?" Isadora asked, noting his accent.  There was something about his presence, the way he stood, perhaps, that she found reassuring. A quiet strength in his eyes.

"Georgia, originally," he replied with a slight smile. "Before the war."

"You were a soldier," she said, as if this answered some question she had been asking herself.

"A sergeant with the 1st Battalion of Georgia Infantry," he replied, looking shyly at the floor. 

"You fought for the union?" she remarked, clearly surprised. "No wonder you left Georgia."Rick chuckled slightly, nodding slightly and looking up at her with his head still slightly bowed.

"That, and there was nothing left there for me. While I was fighting, my wife died in childbirth," he informed her.

"I'm sorry," Isadora told Rick sincerely.

"I'm sorry to leave you waiting so long, Izzy, but I'm back with the laudanum. Why don't you go home now and freshen yourself up? You must be exhausted," Beau told his daughter as he returned to the jail.

"Si, Papi. Thank you," she kissed the man on his cheek and moved for the door. 

"I'll walk you home," Rick offered, and Isadora was too weary to refuse.

[redqueenphoenix]

OC Meet and Greet!

So I have noticed that my OC Victoria Hawkins has been well received with my fan fictions. So I thought I would give a peek into her life. She is my OC for The Walking Dead fandom.

Victoria's not an only child, she had two siblings. A younger sister named Erika and an older step brother named Draven. Sadly though her mother and step father died in the early days of the apocalypse.

Since the fall of humanity she has kept her iPod with her, charging it from generators or where she can. Here is a look into her mostly listened to playlist!

Victoria's iPod (TWD OC)

[naughtyneganjdm]

Leather and Latex

Summary: Every year Negan throws a Halloween party at The Sanctuary and this year he asks you to be his date. Endlessly, Negan has asked you to be one of his wives and you have turned him down. So for the Halloween party he tries to get you to dress as one of his wives, but you have something else in mind.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59504641

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v, Halloween themed, no use of Y/N, female reader, little to no plot, leather, latex, Batman references, praising kink, spanking, edging, etc.

Notes: This is day 4 to go with this kinktober list. The prompts I chose were Leather or Latex and Sensory Deprivation.

You never really pictured Negan to be much of a fun guy. Or a good guy for that matter. But when Halloween came around, it was shocking how much The Saviors and Negan loved to throw a good Halloween party. For the most part, Negan did it for the children, which he’d never let people openly know. He had an image to uphold, but over the last few months you had really gotten to know a different side to Negan.

Tonight Negan had asked you to be his date for the party and you accepted. You couldn’t exactly turn down the leader of The Sanctuary. Even though, recently, you had turned him down many times before. Especially considering the situation at hand. For the last few weeks, Negan had been desperately trying to get you to be one of his wives, but you turned him down every time. It was driving him crazy and you kind of loved it. You reminded him time and time again that you didn’t want to be sitting in a room, wearing a black dress like some mindless drone waiting for him whenever he wanted you. No, you wanted to be making a difference. You wanted to be someone that people respected. And to be respected? You couldn’t be one of Negan’s wives.

So the only thing at this point you had really done with Negan was kiss. But you would quickly stop things and shut him down. Hell, you liked Negan, but you had to make a point with Negan. You weren’t just someone who was pathetic and needed him to take care of you.

Tonight, when he brought you your ‘costume’ it had only fueled you more. Negan was specific in what he wanted you to wear. And that costume was a black dress and a nice pair of shoes so that for one night, you could be one of his wives. You played along with it, but when the opportunity arrived for you to pull one over on him, you did. Many times you and Negan had talked about things you liked before the world fell to shit and Negan stressed that he was a big fan of Batman. So when you had gone on a run with the saviors and found a Halloween store that had an extensive Batman costume, you made a deal with Negan. You wouldn’t be upset if he put that on. Even though he originally wasn’t planning on wearing any costume.

So that’s where he was. In the bathroom attempting to put on the costume that you had asked of him. At first, he was uncomfortable with the idea since it had extensive amounts of latex and leather. And he didn’t know if he could fit into it.

Laid out on Negan’s bed, you hadn’t let him know that you were out to surprise him with something while he had been locked away inside his personal bathroom that was in his bedroom. The loud music from the party that was already going on downstairs filled the air and it made you smile.

“You know, this is fucking awesome, but I think I’m going to need some help with putting on all the pieces,” Negan’s voice began, stepping into his bedroom to reveal that he had the cowl on along with a long-sleeved black shirt and the full batman pants set up. At this point he only had on half the costume, but you really didn’t give a shit. Once his eyes fell on you, he came to a quick stop and gave his classic Negan lean. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“Me?” you questioned, looking down at yourself. While Negan was away in the bathroom you had grabbed a pair of his pants, one of his crisp white t-shirts, his red scarf and his leather jacket that he had set aside to get changed. On your right hand you had snatched the leather glove that Negan often wore and put that on too. Swiftly you had changed out of the classic Negan wife get up and into this which had his hazel eyes gazing over you. “Can’t you tell who I’m going to the party as? If you let me borrow Lucille, it would complete the set.”

“Where’d your dress go?” Negan looked around to see that the dress was laying on the floor at the foot of the bed. “Damn darlin’ you really wanna test the limits with me, don’t you?”

“No, I just really wanted to be Negan for Halloween,” you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, biting down on your bottom lip. Curling your fingers around the bed, you gave a simple shrug and looked up to Negan with a sense of innocence. Wiggling your finger at Negan had his jaw flexing and in the Batman cowl, it actually looked incredibly sexy. Stepping forward toward the bed, Negan stopped when he reached the area before you. Outstretching your hands, you hooked your fingers with his and heard him growl. “You know…I always had a fantasy about having sex with Batman.”

“I don’t have the full costume on,” Negan pointed out with your eyes gazing over the parts of the costume that he already had on. The top was clinging to his body showing every part of his slender torso and the pants already looked good on him. Taking your hand, you reached out to palm in over the front of the pants eliciting a loud grumble from Negan’s throat.

“Is that you or the costume?” you wondered, licking your lips and dropping your palm between his legs to cup his testicles firmly. Wincing out, Negan tipped his head back and the prominent vein was visible at the side of his neck.

“That’s all me,” Negan responded, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “What about the Halloween party?”

“I think we can have our own party in here,” you suggested, standing up from the bed before Negan. Sliding your palms up over the lengths of his torso, you curled your fingers around his shoulders to get him to lower down closer to you. “Unless of course, you don’t want to have sex…”

“Lucky for you I always had a fantasy of fucking myself,” Negan mused with an arrogant bob of his head. It was such a ridiculous line and the way he delivered it was so cheesy that you couldn’t help yourself with laughing. Grasping your hips firmly in his hands, Negan snickered and drew his tongue out over his bottom lip. “This was a bold decision.”

“I’d like to think of it as smart,” you reasoned with him, tipping up on your toes to press kisses over his jawline. Groaning out, Negan tipped his head back and allowed you to pepper his throat with wet, teasing kisses. “I’m Negan already, so why shouldn’t I look the part?”

“No one gets to wear that leather jacket, I hope you know that,” Negan was letting you know that you were somehow special in the way that he wasn’t angry with you for wearing it. “I will worn you though, this was a bitch to get on, which means it’s going to be a pain in the ass to get off.”

“Well good thing I’m determined and have patience,” you slurred, purring out when Negan’s palms slid in over your sides toward your bottom to give it a firm squeeze. “I’m still not going to be your wife. I need you to know that.”

“No, this is purely Batman and Negan having sex,” Negan snorted and it drew attention to his eyes. Negan had already put the black makeup around his eyes to fit with the cowl and you couldn’t help but smile in how serious he took this whole thing. It really brought out the color of his beautiful hazel eyes and you were actually kind of glad you did this.

Tipping up on your toes, you brought your lips together in a hungry sweep that had Negan clinging firmly to you, pulling him flush against you. With every caress of his lips, you felt your heartbeat growing stronger.

“Fuck me,” Negan grunted, dropping his head down to look between the two of you. “My dick is only just starting to get hard and these pants are killing me.”

“We’re going to have to get them off you then,” you worked with the belt realizing what he meant with it being so many pieces. It took a lot to get them undone and you had to use a lot of strength to tug at the material when you dropped to the edge of the bottom of the bed. Getting the material down to his thighs made you smile when you saw his semi-erect length before your eyes. Caressing your hands up over his thighs and toward his hips had him sucking in sharply. God, his incredible v-line looked twice as amazing in what he was wearing. “Look at the weapon you were hiding on you this whole time Batman…”

“Weapon?” Negan repeated with an amused rumble, humming out when your fingers curled around his shaft. With gentle strokes over his body, it had him growing harder within your grasps. “I like that. It’s both a weapon of mass pleasure and destruction. Because tonight, I’m gonna absolutely destroy your pussy.”

“Now that better be a promise,” you purred, reaching around to grab his small ass in order to tug him forward. A wicked smirk tugged at Negan’s arrogant features when you let the tip of his cock drag over your full lips. Extending your tongue out ever so slightly against the ridges had him breathing loudly. “I’d hate to be let down by my favorite superhero.”

“Oh, that would be a catastrophe,” Negan agreed, his head nodding slowly and his gloved hands hooking around you to grab firmly at the back of your head. Wetting your lips, you pressed teasing kisses over the head of Negan’s cock that turned to gentle flicks of your tongue over the swollen tip. You didn’t want to jump right into this. No, you wanted to make him suffer with continuous wet, hot kisses at the tip that would grow more in strength. So that way by the time you finally did take him into your mouth, his legs were uneasy with his breathing broken. Watching Negan was the key to all of this with you lapping at the underside of his cock and then taking him further back toward your throat. “Y’know, I’ve never missed a Halloween party.”

“There is a first for everything,” you pulled your mouth away with a wet sound, your lips glimmering as you pressed them up to the tip. Extending your tongue out had Negan growling out. “If you’d rather be at the party.”

“Shut up and suck my dick,” Negan scoffed getting you to chuckle against his flesh. It had him tremoring and stepping in closer to you. His free hand wrapped around the base of his erection bringing his cock to your lips. Sinking it between your lips, Negan started to rock his hips back and unhurriedly forward toward your throat. Grasping at his hips, you allowed him this. You knew how bad he wanted this whole thing so you were going to give it to him. It was a mix of him letting you pleasure him and him fucking your throat. When he thought you’d need to catch a breath, he’d loosen up before urging you down his cock firmly. “Good girl.”

After a few firm thrusts to the back of your throat with a gagging sound following, Negan pulled his hips back and away from you. It had a line of spit connecting your lips and his cock. An amused sound escaped him when he pushed into your shoulders to get you to lay back.

“I’ve never given head before with something like this on my head, but let’s give it a shot,” Negan pulled at the pants you were wearing and it didn’t take much to get them from your body. Tearing at your panties had you gasping out, but Negan didn’t take his time. Dropping to his knees, his hands forcefully pushed your thighs apart and it was pretty immediate that you had his head between your legs. A rough, forceful kiss was pressed against your folds causing you to arch your back up toward him. Humming out, Negan dragged his tongue out between your folds teasing at your sensitive body. Slurping faintly at your clitoris had your fingers reaching down in search of his hair, but you realized that he was still wearing the cowl and it made you laugh. “What?”

“This is just new for me Batman,” you liked the smile that he gave you with his head tipped back. This was both incredibly sexy and ridiculous at the same time, but you weren’t going to complain. Dropping his head back down, Negan was very dominant in the way that he ate you out. It was no time before you were a shuddering mess beneath him clinging at whatever you could grab. You may have preferred to see Negan’s face and not so much his Batman mask, but you were making it work. “Negan…”

With your moans, Negan kept up the pace of his mouth and tongue working to bring you right to the edge of your orgasm. Bouncing your hips toward him, you were in desperate need of the orgasm that he was working up inside of you. It had been so long and he was surprisingly doing such a good job even with that cowl on.

Negan’s fingers hooked with yours right when you were about to come and you threw your head back into the pillows. It had an amused rumble falling from Negan’s throat when he sat down at the bottom of the bed. Your thighs were tremoring, your eyes slammed close leaving you with the sensation of spinning. Even though you were trying to catch your breath, Negan was ready to keep going.

In a haste, he pulled you in over him. Together the both of you shakily worked to pull the tight material of the long sleeve that he was wearing up his body to toss it to the floor. Crawling further in over his lap, you curled your fingers around his neck and it felt strange with the way the cowl felt against your fingertips.

“Wait,” Negan demanded, reaching for the red scarf that you had put on. Lifting it, he wrapped the material around your eyes and it had you releasing a shuddering sound. By his low rumble of a laugh, you could tell that he was amused. By taking your sight away, you couldn’t see a thing and he knew that. Maybe just simple shapes, but that was it. Gasping out, you tried to keep yourself balanced by holding onto his shoulders when he firmly tugged the white shirt up over your breasts and yanked down the cup of your bra. Negan’s mouth was quick to cover your breast, his tongue circling the nipple eagerly. “So fucking perfect.”

Whimpering out, you felt the length of Negan teasing at your entrance and you bucked up against him wanting to have him enter you, but he wasn’t giving you the satisfaction of that yet. Instead he continued to pamper your breasts with kisses until he hooked your arms behind your back in one of his hands.

“You are my prisoner after all,” Negan nipped at your neck, having you cooing out at the sensation. You could feel the leather of Negan’s jacket hot against your exposed flesh with Negan firmly rolling you over onto your stomach. Pulling your hips to the bottom of the bed, Negan roughly pushed into your lower back before kicking your legs apart. The warmth of Negan covered you with him wrenching your arms behind your back. “You are a naughty girl.”

“I’m so naughty,” you purred out with Negan’s cock hovering over your bottom. A soft tapping was felt against your cheeks before Negan led his cock to your entrance. In a swift, fluid movement Negan filled you completely having you throw your head back. A loud cry fell from your lips when he pulled his hips back and then firmly smacked forward. The movement was so strong that it had you bouncing forward up the bed. “Fuck!”

“I did say I’d deliver on a promise of destroying your pussy,” Negan growled in your ear and with your sight taken away from you, you felt everything in so much more detail. Every powerful thrust had you moaning out, your cries not being held back with Negan pounding into you with reckless abandon. Loud smacking sounds of your flesh filled the air and he wasn’t letting up on the grasp of your arms behind your back. “Such a tight pussy. It feels like it was made for only me. Who does it belong to?”

“It’s yours,” you whimpered, biting down on your bottom lip with every powerful forward thrust he made inside of you. It was hard to form words with your face buried against the bed and your eyes covered. What Negan was doing to you was both incredible and mind blowing. It wasn’t romantic, but that was never really something you pictured Negan being.

“I asked you who it belongs to,” Negan finally released one of your arms, giving your ass a firm smack. Whimpering out, you clung tightly to the comforter on Negan’s bed.

“Negan,” you were quick to answer wincing when he dropped your other arm. Both his hands were squeezing at your ass while he led you back over him repeatedly. Plunge after plunge of his body was rough, powerful and had you attempting to crawl upwards, but he would pull your hips back to him.

“I know this big cock has to be new for you sweetheart, but you’re going to take it like a champ,” Negan assured you, his right hand reaching out to press between your shoulder blades to keep you in place. Leaning over you, his weight braced against his arms that were beside you. Hooking his left hand with yours, Negan squeezed his fingers tightly with yours when he started rolling his hips forward, his lower abdomen smacking against your bottom. “Good girl.”

There was some racket downstairs from the party, but you were so lost in this that you didn’t care. There was a heat growing in your belly with every deep thrust Negan left you with. Negan’s mouth was covering your shoulder, neck and jawline with hot kisses.

“You feel so fucking good,” Negan growled in your ear, drawing chills throughout you. Turning your head just enough had you begging for his lips to cover yours. Giving you what you wanted, Negan stole a kiss from your lips that had you desperate to kiss him back. “Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” you panted, your body bouncing back into Negan’s thrusts. He had you trapped beneath him, but you liked the way it felt with him surrounding you. The smacks of his testicles against your clit felt amazing with him plowing into you. Grunting against the side of your neck, Negan bit at your jawline and hissed when your body started to tense up. Feeling your body contracting around his, Negan’s hips seemed to falter leaving you with a cry. “Please. Negan!”

“Not yet,” Negan snickered, pushing up and away from your body. The drag of his cock from your warmth was agonizing with him leaving your body. He seemed amused with your whining as he flipped you over onto your back. Crawling in over you, he urged your right leg to curl around his waist and you frowned. “You’ve teased me this whole time and you can’t wait a few extra minutes to come?”

“It hurts,” you frowned getting a deep rumble of a laugh to fall from him.

“And now you know how it feels when you’ve sent me packing with the blue balls every time you made out with me,” Negan breathed against your lips, amused when your hips arched up toward him begging him to enter you again. “You’re a greedy little thing.”

“I thought Batman was supposed to be the good guy,” you reminded him with Negan snickering against the side of your neck. “You’re going to leave a lady aching and in pain?”

“Batman isn’t liked by everyone you know,” Negan reached between the two of you, his lips hovering over yours. Leading himself back into you with ease had the both of you moaning in unison. At first, the roll of his hips was slow. It was almost torture with the slow pull back and the unhurried push forward. It was having him fill you completely and then almost leave your body before smacking forward again. Your arms hooked around his shoulders, you fingers digging into his flesh. “Give me what I want and I’ll let you come.”

You didn’t respond. He wanted you to be his wife, but there was no fucking way. Your silence didn’t bode well for him with his thrusts becoming more forceful having you bounce upward with every movement, “It’s not that hard to just give me what I want.”

“I won’t be one of them,” you denied him, your nails biting into his skin with how hard Negan started to fuck you. It had your back arching with you crying out his name again and again. You were thankful that the music was loud downstairs or otherwise you would have drawn the attention of someone in The Sanctuary. It was so fucking good, but just like before right when he got you to the edge, he stopped leaving your heart hammering in your chest. “Goddamn it Negan.”

“Only good girls get to come and you’re being very bad,” Negan slurred, his mouth covering your exposed breast. Nipping at the taut bud had you purring out, your fingers sliding up toward the back of his head where that fucking mask still was on him. And then he started moving again. Sharp, torturously slow movements that had you gasping with the sensation. “You wanna come? Give me what I want.”

“I’d be miserable,” you whined, your throat tensing up with Negan kissing up over your chest toward your neck to bite at the side of it. That would certainly leave a mark. “I want to be beside you, not waiting for you to return.”

“Goddamn,” Negan snarled, pulling away from you again, but this time he was tugging the blindfold down to get you to look at him. Trying to get the cowl from his head, you helped him when he hissed out and managed to get it off. Tossing it aside made you smile. He was soaked, his messy hair clinging to his head with him rolling you over so that you were on top of him. “If you don’t want to give me what I want then make yourself come.”

You weren’t going to fight that one with you bracing your hands over the center of his chest. Negan’s palms cupped at your breasts while you started to bounce yourself eagerly over his hips. You wanted to feel all of him and you were so desperate for that release. Winces were falling from Negan’s throat, his hazel eyes narrowing while you had your way with him.

Breathy pants were falling from your parted lips. Negan’s hips were meeting yours with every downward thrust you made over him. Your motions went from careful to forceful with Negan grasping to your hips to help you rock over him in swift movements. Your face was hot, your heart hammering when you threw your head back finally reaching that orgasm that Negan had held off from you for so long.

“Don’t stop,” Negan hissed, pushing up so that he could kiss over the side of your neck, forcing you to continue to move your hips over his even though you were already weak from how hard that prolonged orgasm took to get. Grasping at his wet, dark hair you knew he was looking for that same kind of euphoric feeling you allowed yourself to have. Short, pronounced winces were pressing against your throat. A few more powerful thrusts beneath you had you clutching to Negan when his cock twitched inside of you filling you with the first line of his cum. Bouncing up toward you, Negan clung tightly to you until the end of his orgasm, his breath warm against your lower neck. His arms were holding tightly to you and you were clinging to him. “I don’t know why you don’t want to be mine.”

“Because I can be yours without having to be your wife,” you hushed him, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip. Nipping at the pad of your thumb, Negan’s hazel eyes hooked with yours and it made you smile that he still had the Batman make up around his eyes. “I’ve been yours this whole time Negan. You’ve just been too blind to see it.”

----

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FULL LIST OF WHAT WE WRITE FOR:

Shows/movies:

13 Reasons Why

Clay Jensen

Justin Foley

911 (Lonestar and the original)

Eddie Diaz

Evan Buckley

Judd Ryder

Owen Strand

Paul Strickland

TK Strand

Wyatt Harris

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Kit Walker

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Xavier Plympton

Attack On Titan

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Big Time Rush

Carlos

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Kendall

Logan

Breaking Bad

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Cobra Kai

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Johnny Lawrence

Miguel Diaz

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Criminal Minds

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Game of Thrones

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Goosebumps

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Gossip Girl

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Grey’s Anatomy

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IT

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Toge Inumaki

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Lab Rats

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Malcolm In The Middle

Francis Wilkerson

Reese Wilkerson

Malcolm Wilkerson

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Deadpool

Druig

Loki Laufeyson

Peter Parker (Tom’s or Andrew’s)

Steve Rogers

Thor 

Wolverine

My Babysitter’s a Vampire

Benny Weir

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My Hero Academia

Denki Kaminari

Eijiro Kirishima

Hitoshi Shinsou

Izuku Midoriya

Katsuki Bakugo

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NCIS (LA and the original)

Anthony DiNozzo

Eric Beale

G. Callen

Jimmy Palmer

Marty Deeks

Timothy McGee

Nerve

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New Girl

Coach

Nick Miller

Schmidt

Winston Bishop

Now You See Me

Jack Wilder

Outerbanks

JJ Maybank

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Pope

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Topper

Percy Jackson

Percy

Pretty Little Liars

Caleb Rivers

Holden Strauss

Jason DiLaurentis

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Shadowhunters

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Jace Herondale

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Shameless

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Kevin Ball

Lip Gallagher

Smallville

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Lex Luthor

Stranger Things

Dustin Henderson

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Supernatural

Castiel

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T@GGED

Ash Franklin

Brandon Darrow

Trevor Askill

Teen Wolf

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Scott McCall

Stiles Stilinski

Titans

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

Gar Logan (Beast Boy)

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

The 100

Bellamy Blake

Jasper Jordan

Monty Green

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Ambrose Spellman

Harvey Kinkle

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The Hunger Games

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The Maze Runner

Minho

Newt

Thomas

The Middle

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The Originals

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True Blood

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ABOUT ME ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

nineteen | she her | entp | scorpio

THINGS I WRITE

( favs are written in blue )

female oc x male character

different types of headcanons

oneshots ( fluff ,angst… )

fanfictions

how characters would react to

nsfw alphabet

sfw alphabet

chats / smaus

—> request are open!

FANDOMS / CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

I also write for other fandoms and characters, just send a request <3 My favorite fandoms are written in blue!

death note — l lawliet ,light yagami ,near ,mihael keehl ( mello ) ,teru mikami ,mail jeevas ( matt )

alice in borderland — shuntarõ chishiya ,ryõhei arisu ,suguru niragi ,daikichi karube ,morizono aguni ,õki yaba ,sunato banda

game of thrones — jon snow ,jaime lannister ,robb stark ,viserys targaryen ,oberyn martell ,tyrion lannister ,podrick payne ,eddard stark ,bronn ,petyr baelish ,ramsay bolton

house of the dragon — daemon targaryen ,aegon targaryen ,aemond targaryen ,jacaerys velaryon ,cregan stark ,lucerys velaryon ,benjicot blackwood

vikings — ragnar lothbrok ,bjorn lothbrok ,ivar the boneless ,ubbe ,rollo ,harald finehair ,hvitserk

cobra kai / karate kid — miguel diaz ,robby keene ,eli moskowitz ( hawk ) ,kwon jae-sung ,axel kovačević ,sensei wolf ,terry silver ,daniel larusso , johnny lawrence

the walking dead — daryl dixon ,rick grimes ,negan smith ,carl grimes

the boys — homelander ,the deep ,soldier boy ,billy butcher

squid game — thanos ( player 230 ) ,salesman ,hwang in-ho ( front man | player 001 ) ,lee myeong-gi ( player 333 ) ,hwang jun-ho ( policeman )

all of us are dead — lee cheong-san ,yoon gwi-nam ,lee su-hyeok ,han gyeong-su ,jang woo-jin

jujutsu kaisen — satoru gojo ,megumi fushiguro ,choso ,mahito ,sukuna ,toji fushiguro ,suguru geto ,yuji itadori ,yuta okkutsu ,takuma ino

blue lock — yoichi isagi ,meguru batchira ,seishirõ nagi ,hyoma chigiri ,rin itoshi ,michael kaiser ,oliver aiku ,ryusei shido ,sae itoshi

haikyuu — kozume kenma, tobio kageyama, shoyo hinata, tetsurõ kuroo, kei tsukishima, yu nishinoya, tooru oikawa

RULES

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[that-left-turn]

I might be missing something, but why do amc think a new male audience is the best target audience for dd/caryl?

I know norman, nicotero, and zabel are all leaning to a simple american hero toxic masculine version of daryl, so maybe they think that will attract men who never watched twd before, but twd has been a big enough show for over a decade, how many really have never seen it who would want to start now?

As for existing twd viewers, from where I've been looking the past 13 or so years, the largest fanbase for daryl was women and queer folk. It seems to me that Rick and Negan are the more attractive characters for a cis male audience (yet both of those spinoffs treated their female lead better - maybe dd is over-compensating). And more than half the current male audience for dd keep begging for a rick and daryl reunion. It seems like they only care about daryl in the context of rick, and I don't think norman or andy have any intention on delivering that, as much as amc will keep baiting them as much as they bait carylers with caryl.

I just can't really for the life of me think what persuaded them that daryl dixon was the character to try to pull in a new male audience. His biggest appeal was always his sensitive side and his relationship with carol. Going the way of other shows, like tlou, and leaning into women's interests and queerness, seems to me like it would have been a far more successful move for a spinoff with daryl (and carol) at the helm. I think plenty of men would have followed that too, as they did for daryl and carol's 'badass-ness' in the main show.

But I will say that lots of misogyny came out in public when tboc aired. Male internet users were leaving horrible comments on fans who were speaking up about wanting women to be treated better on the show. "It's daryl's show, so why should melissa be treated better" was a common attitude to fans asking for equal treatment. Others were saying that feminism, diverse representation etc. are not popular anymore. And when fans asked for better, it felt like amc would respond by making increasingly offensive posts (offensive to women, to non-americans, to long-time fans of carol & daryl). In fact, I see a lot more men replying to amc's official posts uplifting women of twd with annoyance at amc's "feminist bs." Do you think those are the type of men amc is trying to appeal to?

All right, it’s a big topic, so this answer is somewhat abridged while still hitting the main points.

Daryl is AMC’s original IP

Daryl doesn’t exist in the comics, which means AMC doesn’t have to pay Kirkman for using the character. They can keep all the profit to themselves. This is also the real reason why Daryl was the most marketed character of the flagship show and why Norman went from support cast to main credits so quickly.

Doing the spinoff with only Daryl would net AMC a larger profit, or so they thought. As evidenced by social media, Norman gets mobbed when he shows up somewhere and AMC made a crucial mistake in thinking that’s because of emotional investment in Daryl or the popularity of the show. In reality, it’s more to do with celebrity culture—people just want to get pictures with someone famous. As such, it’s not an indication of sustainable viewership.

Male audiences are seen as more ‘serious’ fans, committed and invested in lore and story, while female identifying audiences show up for shippy moments and other ‘mushy stuff’

It used to be that genre shows in general had a more male skewing audience and if you look at the earliest seasons, you can clearly see that TWD was intended for the comic book fans and men who are horror or zombie fans. Female characters were entirely relegated to the sidelines, informing the male story arcs but not having much agency of their own. Look at how hated/misunderstood Lori still is. She never had a chance because the audience is meant to see her entire arc through Rick and Shane’s eyes.

There was a time when TWD was must-see TV, so the show has had a very diverse audience for a long time. AMC is just using some seriously outdated marketing models. In the days of syndication, TV execs wanted standalone episodes because networks who licensed the shows needed viewers to be able to watch out of order without getting lost in the plot. This was the time when you could advertise on billboards and at sports events, and people would tune in. Streaming and more cinematic video games, along with COVID, changed how people consume and engage with media.

A segment of male viewers want the immersive experience of feeling like they’re fighting zombies, so they like the cool weapons, special effects and lore—they want TV shows to be more like a gaming experience. Female identifying viewers, on the other hand, are more likely to watch for the story and its characters because representation in visual media is relatively new to them. Women also tend to be more community oriented, so they find strength/comfort in seeing someone else going through experiences similar to their own.

The media strategy from the start has been to foster a pro-Rick environment

One of the mistakes the show made right from the start was that it focused too exclusively on Rick. A TV show is different from something you consume off a page and TWD had an ensemble cast. AMC wanted the built-in audience of the comic book fans to ensure the success of the adaptation, but once the show took on a life of its own (and particularly when they started to aggressively market Daryl), they should have nurtured interest in the cast as a whole by offering more balanced screentime for the characters and less implausible plot armor for the Grimeses.

The Gimple era, when social media really took off, offered a very Greco-Roman view of men looking to each other for companionship and women are largely irrelevant. Rick and Daryl become brothers, there’s the homoerotic antagonism between Rick and Negan. Maggie—the tomboy who transgressed against gender roles—is brought in line with the intended function and purpose of women: having a baby. It became open season on Carol because Rick, who was pushed as the character with whom the audience is supposed to identify and sympathize, condemned her for the deaths of Karen and David. Female friendships turned largely invisible, which fed into the misogyny on the screen, BTS and in AMC's marketing tactics.

It was fair game to pit women against each other and to tear down any character in order to promote the show, as long as Rick was framed as the undisputed and righteous hero.

I might be missing something, but why do amc think a new male audience is the best target audience for dd/caryl?

The ‘break narrative’ fractured the Caryl fandom. Not every Caryler was willing to watch a solo Daryl show. Carol has a dedicated fanbase too and they weren’t impressed with the PR spin that was offered as an explanation for removing Melissa from the project. AMC lost more viewers by that move than they had anticipated.

Because female fans started speaking up against watching and why they made that choice, a certain online demographic (who derive their satisfaction from telling women to shut up) has become very vocal in official online spaces. AMC is mistaking that attention for viewers who care for Daryl or the show. They do not. They care about the instant gratification of putting women in their place.

Many male fans see Daryl as an extension to Rick, which is why AMC has people clamoring for a Rickyl reunion. They want more Rick and might see Daryl as a self-insert because they want that brotherly connection with the ‘real’ protagonist of TWDU. Voices asking for a reunion are primarily interested in and fans of Rick. They’re not going to invest in a 56-year old Peter Pan who gallivants across Europe, so the band aid solution is to bait them into watching by dangling possible Rick hints. Norman has also made it clear, on any number of occasions, that he’s not interested in going back to being the sidekick, so it's just a ploy.

Do you think those are the type of men amc is trying to appeal to?

Bottom line is that AMC doesn’t care if their audience is toxic. The official SM accounts are looking to maximize the engagement on their posts and because X’s algorithm amplifies male alt-right voices, anything that’s hostile towards women and human rights gets a lot of attention. That doesn’t mean these people even watch DarDix and any data derived from the official accounts is too muddled to draw any meaningful conclusions. Comments don’t reflect who’s watching or any kind of accurate interests in the show’s content.

The same basic principle of the toxic dudebros is true for the anti-Carol element. They’re loud because they don’t want the show to do well out of some misguided notion that it somehow builds authority for other shows. (It doesn’t. It just furthers AMC’s impression that female identifying fans are volatile shippers.) They’re not an option for a long-term audience, but they too feel validated by the misogynist marketing for DarDix. Unfortunately, AMC’s marketing department doesn’t seem to grasp that tracking their official accounts is useless in gauging audience behavior insights because they’ve corrupted the data.

The people who are invested in the characters and who’d like to enjoy the show have been made to feel unwelcome both by AMC’s marketing efforts and the stooges’ promotion. The show needs to bring in an independent marketing strategist to repair the damage the studio has caused their own IP. Someone who understands the space and how to nurture and grow a loyal audience is the only way forward.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

one of my biggest unpopular TWD opinions (aside from the fact that I actually love the female characters that everyone else seems to hate) is the fact that I actually really like the episodes about the Governor in Season 4

because I love Tara so much, I love seeing her origin, and I love how even though they showed a more emotionally vulnerable side to 'Brian', they make no effort to redeem him or actually make him pitiable (at this point, the writers actually had brains in their heads with this shit, unlike with Negan's backstory and 'redemption' arc)

they hit all the points that could make him redeemed - have him take care of a child (have him be the thing that helps her recover from severe trauma induced mutism), they have him save the lives of our newly introduced, weak characters even though he's not obligated to, they have him volunteer to take care of a disabled man

but none of those things matter when he is introduced to a new community of survivors and his psychopathic tendencies take over. it is shown that he was never truly capable of being a good man. he had the opportunity to be a humble follower and prioritise taking care of his new family, but instead - he starts lying and murdering people in order to gain power and seek revenge on those he believed have wronged him long ago, starting a war he knows he can't win (a war he lost before, sacrificing a lot of innocent people) - because he's not a good, humble man. he's a power hungry psychopath

and I love how the episodes show this instead of actively trying to redeem him or trying to milk sympathy from the audience

[hunterssm00n]

Natural Born Sinner

The Comedian has addictions too, and they include more than just cigars and violence. | Eddie Blake/OC |

part 1 of 3

also on ao3: here

*cw include dubcon smut, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, degradation, stalking, emotional/psychological abuse, misogyny, name-calling, breaking and entering, past abuse, dark themes*

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hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

He lifted up Himself and said unto them "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."

The day had crawled by, and the commute home had crawled even more. All she wanted after a long work week was to be holed up in her apartment with a book, something hot to drink and a warm bubble bath. Maybe that's what she would do tonight - she thought of this as she exited the bus at the stop on the corner. She waved at the driver as she walked down the stairs through the open doors, and he'd crooned at her to have a nice weekend, Michelle.

It was still raining, like it had been the whole day - lately, that seemed to be the only thing Mother Nature wanted to do. Maybe she was sad, Michelle pondered as she crossed the first of three blocks that would lead to her apartment. She didn't have her umbrella with her - it sat idly next to her swivel chair in her cubicle at work, probably still damp from this morning. That was okay though, she didn't mind the rain. And it wasn't like she'd be seeing anyone else tonight anyways. This rain would no doubt frizz her hair in some ungodly way. If it wasn't so damn cold outside - mid October in the city was not at all it was cracked up to be - she probably would have even considered jumping in the puddles. But she didn't. She probably would've ruined her heels, which would've been a big upset.

As she neared her apartment complex entrance, she reached into her pocket to fish around for her front door key. Tiptoeing up the steps to the door in her black high heels, she noted that the lock had been broken. Hmm, no use for the key then. Swinging her long black hair over one shoulder, she simply pushed the door open and stepped inside, attempting to close it behind her to the best of her ability. This was not uncommon - happened all the time. She thought nothing of it as she unzipped her coat, shaking it off during her trek up the stairs to her tiny apartment. Rounding the corner to the right, she did, however, think it was odd that her door was open.

This meant one of two things. Someone was robbing her place, or he was there.

"Shit," she stated. Her unladylike mouth tended to get her in trouble more often than not, but she knew that if he was actually in her apartment then he would be very amused by it. Slowly, she crossed the short span of floor to her front door. She noted that the lock was not broken, the door was merely propped open. Even slower, she reached out and pushed the door open, waiting to see what awaited her inside of her apartment.

Nothing.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Her apartment was the same as it always was; a little messy, smelled a bit like the candle she'd accidentally left burning all last night. No lights on, so she couldn't be sure someone wasn't hiding in the shadows. However, she was sure that he wasn't there, because if he was, he wouldn't be hiding from her. He'd probably be sitting right in her favorite chair in front of the TV, smoking a cigar, one ankle propped up on his knee as he waited for her to come home.

In fact, the only difference she noted was the faint trace of that cigar smoke in the air. The further she walked in, turning on lights as she went, the more she could smell it. She glanced back at the door warily, eyes roving for anything that could have been out of the ordinary. Had he been here? She didn't smoke, so it wasn't a normal smell that was prevalent in her space... Unless he showed up, of course. Then the smell overtook everything. However, no one was there, she concluded. She'd gone through every room, turned on every light, and there was no other trace of anyone having been there. If he had been here, he was gone now. 

Michelle allowed herself to relax for the first time since she got home, sure that she was alone in here. She went over to her front door and made sure it was locked - maybe she'd not locked it properly when she left for work in the morning. Doubt clouded her mind at that thought - she always made sure the door was locked completely when she left her place. Don't worry, there's no one here. She let that thought settle in her mind, trying to let it comfort her. Maybe she was just imagining the smell in the air as well; maybe the thought of him was playing tricks on her like a ghost.

After unloading herself - taking her coat off and hanging her purse up on the coat rack, toeing her shoes off - she immediately went into the bathroom to start drawing herself a bath. That was her goal for this evening: absolute relaxation.

Once the water had run warm and filled up the tub, she added a lavender smelling liquid soap to it and stripped off her clothes, eager to jump into the nice smelling concoction. She pinned up her long hair, thinking how sad it was that she was excited to sit here and soak for the remainder of the evening. But, she needed to majorly de-stress, and this was the best way to do it.

She stepped into the soapy water, sinking down into it with a sigh. Leaning her head back against the porcelain edge of the tub, she closed her eyes for the first time all day.

Not even a minute had passed when she heard a noise from outside her front door. Footsteps, heavy ones. She opened one eye, listening hard. It was probably someone passing by to get to another apartment. From her bathroom she had a direct view to the entrance to her apartment. Since she lived alone, she never bothered closing the bathroom door. She noted a shadow underneath the door from the hallway that wasn't moving - somebody was definitely outside her door, hovering there.

Michelle had seen enough movies to know that she was no way in hell going to call out. That was a sure-fire way to get murdered. She waited in the tub to see if they would leave. The shadow shifted once, followed by a metal clanking noise. It took her a moment to realize that whomever it was was attempting to pick the lock. Now the panic started to set in. Did they know someone was in here? Did they care?

She thought of the smell of the cigar smoke from earlier. Was he outside the door right now, picking the lock? She rose up from out of the water, the soapy suds dribbling down her naked body. She reached for the towel hanging on the rack bolted to the wall next to the tub, wrapping it around herself while stepping out of the water. The clanking from the front door continued, and she quickly cut through the door that led to the bathroom, heading for the kitchen. Her thought was on the giant breadknife that lay dormant in her kitchen cabinet - if she could get to that at least she'd have something.

Halfway there, her door swung open, and instead of freezing in her tracks she took off in a run towards the dark kitchen to her left. She heard the door slam and footsteps thunder towards her just as she slipped into the kitchen. Quick as lightning, she yanked the drawer open and grabbed the massive breadknife, whipping around to point it towards her assailant just as they were about to grab her.

Much to her (non) surprise, he stood behind her. The Comedian himself, Edward Blake. He gave a huff of amusement at the sight of her holding the knife, pointed right at him. "Baby, if I knew this was gonna be the welcoming committee, I woulda come a helluva lot sooner," He winked at her with one of his grins that could put city lights to shame. His problem was that he was handsome, and he knew it. Many a woman had fallen for that smile, those eyes that could stare right through you; he was the very definition of tall, dark and handsome. The devil in disguise. Many a woman, including her.

The difference here was that while she'd fallen for that charm, she wasn't stupid enough to believe him and put up with his shit. She knew the kind of man he was, which was why she tried to avoid him at all costs.

It was a lot harder to avoid him, though, when he did things like this - this wasn't the first time he'd broken into her apartment, unannounced. It just had been a while; a few months. The last time she'd seen him was about three weeks ago (not that long), and it hadn't been in her apartment. Then, he'd visited her at work... after hours, and hadn't let her leave until he'd gotten what he'd wanted.

Still standing with a tense posture, she did lower the knife, but didn't put it down on the counter, "Eddie, you're not supposed to be here."

"Says who?" He eyed her up and down, noting how she was still dripping wet from leaping out of her warm bath at the speed of light. There was a puddle pooling on the cracked kitchen floor by her feet - the rapidly cooling water was now touching her toes as the slope of the floor caused the liquid to roll towards her bare feet.

She could not deny, though she knew how wrong this was, that she felt a twinge of excitement upon seeing him. And she knew how wrong it was, completely and wholly. She always wished Eddie was a better man - if he had been, she could honestly say she would have had no problem with this. Hell, she probably would've gotten down on one knee and proposed to him.

"Says me," Now she did put the knife down on the counter behind her, crossing her arms at him, "I told you not to come here."

"Yeah," he sighed, taking his heavy swaggering steps towards her, one hand reaching up to stroke the scruff on his chin, "But we both know you didn't mean it."

She made herself stand her ground as he came near - it took all of her strength to keep her feet planted on the ground. "I did mean it, and I mean it right now when I say: Get out." He stopped uncomfortably close to her - she could feel the heat radiating off of his large body, smell the musk coming from him as he towered over her. There was tension in the air as he looked down at her, pondering her statement with a smirk. His eyes were dark and smoldering beneath the mask covering them; the mask did nothing to diminish their devious intensity. "You can't push me around."

He chuckled, like this was funny. "Sure I can," He grabbed onto her damp, bare shoulders and pushed her back against the counter. Her lower back hit it firmly enough to startle her. If this was any other situation with him - if he was actually a good man, she could have stood to play this game with him. But she couldn't do this because it was him. He had to go now.

"Eddie," There was an edge to her voice, but it didn't come out as harsh as she wanted it to, "Don't," She pushed her hands against his chest, which was protected by the hard bullet proof vest that he wore with the rest of his costume. Her push, which was rather flimsy, she noted with annoyance, did nothing to him. She chalked it up to her being nervous - she knew what was going to happen, and she knew there was a point where she was going to stop protesting.

"Honey, I'm not gonna hurt'cha," He nuzzled his face into her hair, cradling her now so that her head was under his chin, her lips inches from his throat. She wanted to bite the skin of his neck, wanted to kiss it, lick it, tear into it with her teeth. She wouldn't let herself unwind from this rigid posture - she feared that if she did, the motions would all come back full force, and she would lost herself to this lust that he brought out of her.

"I just missed ya is all," Big, warm hands cradled her jaw, trying to lift her face so she would look at him, "C'mon baby girl,"

God, that voice was her undoing. Deep, hot drawl that poured out of him like molasses. She could feel the vibration of his chest against her hands, rumbling with each word he spoke. Oh, hell. She tried to keep her face away from his, but those calloused palms could be so strong yet so gentle at the same time. He managed to lift her face, tilting her head back with skill. She turned her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss, his scruffy beard grazing her cheek as did his lips. Undeterred, his mouth continued to kiss down to the crook of her neck, and she felt his tongue lap at droplets of water that still clung to her bare skin.

She balled her hands into fists against the hard covering on his chest, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around his waist. He kissed a warm trail down to her shoulder, having to lean down the farther he went. As if he'd been thinking that at the same time as she, he suddenly gripped his hands onto her towel clothed waist and hoisted her up to sit on the countertop behind her. This swift motion caused the top of her towel to unravel from her chest, leaving her exposed to the chilly air. Her nipples hardened in the coolness, and his administrations were not helping as he stood between her legs and trapped her there, hands stroking her thighs and mouth working all over her neck and shoulders. She did let out a moan, a quiet one that escaped her throat, when he knelt down so his mouth could reach her exposed breasts. The heat between her legs was molten with desire, burning hot with want that she knew wasn't going to go away. She banged her head back against the cabinet on the wall behind her when he tugged on a nipple with his teeth. She didn't even realize her hands were in his hair until he hissed at a particularly hard pull, and she tilted her head to look down at him.

"Not that I don't enjoy the fight you put up, but," Those large hands fumbled with untying the rest of the towel and getting it off of her, "I don't know why y'even bother when you know you're just gonna wind up on your back begging me Eddie, Eddie please-"

With a glare and a surge of energy, she shoved at his chest with her feet, pushing him back away from her. He landed on his back with a massive thud that shook her entire kitchen, pots and pans rattling in their cabinets and under the stove. Jumping down from the counter top, she clutched at the towel in her hands, bringing it up to cover her chest once more. She reached back and snatched the knife up off the counter, pointing it at him as he started to sit back up with a growl.

"No," she stated firmly, swallowing down as much of the arousal as she could. Eddie sat up a little off the floor, leaning on his elbows as he watched her brandish the knife at him. "You need to go. Don't make me say it a third time."

"Awww, 'Chelle," He smiled at her like he thought she was cute, that megawatt grin lighting up the dark kitchen, "Put that damn thing away, honey, only person you're gonna hurt is yourself."

She took a step closer, jaw clenched (as well as her thighs), "You know damn well I know how to use this - I'm not fucking around, Eddie, I want you to-"He lunged up at her suddenly, and she let out a shriek as she jumped back, still holding the knife steadily out in front of her as he leapt to his feet. "Jesus Christ!" One hand clutching her towel closed over her chest, her hand that held the knife trembled ever so slightly as she kept it pointed at him, "Just stop it already, would you please?!" She knew he was trying to scare her, and damn it, it worked. He had that look in his eyes he got when he was about to do something bad - that sick light in his dark iris's that meant he was more than willing to take her even with the knife still clutched between her fingers.

Instead of acting upon whatever he'd been thinking about doing, he relaxed his posture and reached a hand up to smooth his hair out of his face. He sighed, "Believe it or not sweetheart, I'm not here for a fight. I miss you - I wanted to see you." The words sounded foreign, awkward coming from him. The Comedian rarely got sentimental, rarely got serious unless he was pissed off. She almost felt uncomfortable hearing him say them, as much as he himself was saying them.

She swallowed thickly again at his low voice as it crawled over her flesh like a warm breath of air. She didn't let herself loosen her grip on the knife. "You broke into my apartment - into my building."

"Okay," He held up one large hand, palm facing out towards her, "That was broke when I got here - your fuckin' landlord is a piece of shit, wouldn't know how to fortify a building to save his damn life. Then I had to rush on up here and make sure you were okay, but you weren't home. So, yeah, then I picked your lock." He shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "And I wouldn't have to break in if you didn't keep changing the damn locks."

She stared at him in outrage, "I never gave you a key!"

"You left a spare lying out on the fucking coffee table - what else were ya gonna do with it?"

"I wasn't gonna give it to you! Not everything is yours!"

"'Course it ain't," There was that grin again. God, he was going to be the death of her. "That's why when you want something, y'gotta take it."

Instead of arguing with him further, she shook her head, "You're fucking insufferable."

"And you love me for it," He winked at her, taking a step closer, not caring about the potential danger of the knife she held. She raised it at him in warning - she would not be swayed by his charm. Looking down at the blade like how one would look at a flower, the man before her tilted his head to one side before his eyes once again rose to meet hers. Then, "Were you takin' a bath before I came in?" The tone of his inquiry was general curiosity laced with suggestiveness - which meant that she should not answer this question. She didn't give him any indication that she'd heard him, but that didn't seem to deter him from his goal... Whatever it was at the moment. "Well hell, doll, don't let me stop ya! You know what, I've got a great idea: Why don't I join you? I'm feelin' real dirty right now..."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he was already turning and heading towards her bathroom - her very tiny bathroom that could barely fit one person, let alone the both of them. He himself was the size of two and a half people - tall and broad, and his costume just added to his bulk. Still clutching the knife, she followed him, stepping carefully over the trail of costume he was leaving behind. She had half a mind to pick up all the pieces and throw it all out the window, but she didn't want to give him a reason to be walking around naked in her apartment. At least if everything was here, she could maybe chuck it all out in the hallway and shove him out with it. Maybe. Her heart stopped when she saw his pants lying in the doorway to the bathroom, and she gulped despite herself. "Eddie..." she warned, knowing the sight that would await her when she rounded the corner - she steeled herself for what she would see.

The sight before her she was sure would be the death of her, if nothing else he did quite did the trick. The Comedian was laying in her bathtub, which was not big enough for him, and he was naked. He scrubbed at the black paint around his eyes with the soapy water - he didn't seem to mind the girly scent. Everything was off - his clothes, his gloves, his mask. There were no weapons in sight, so unless they were submerged under the water with the rest of him, they were lying dormant on the floor with the rest of his costume. He cupped his large hands in the water to gather some, and poured it over his head, smoothing back his damp hair. God Almighty. He had to leave now before he caused her to do something she would regret.

"C'mon, 'Chelle, I need help gettin' my back. You know there's that one spot I can't ever reach,"

"No, what you need to do is go, just please, go."

"Please, please, please, so Goddamn polite," He plucked her purple loofah off of the hook it had been hanging on suctioned to the side of the shower. "You're even polite when my tongue is in your pussy." He chuckled at the thought, squeezing her loofah between his hands so the soap suds spilled over his fingers, "'Oh Eddie, please, oh unnh please...'"

She tried her best to ignore what his words did to her. She didn't know what to do - he wasn't going to leave and her resistance was fading. Her conscience was even whispering Just give him what he wants, what you want, and he'll go. But every time she did, it was harder to let him go.

She knew she wasn't the only one this whole situation was hard on.

Her lack of words caused him to look over in her direction, dark eyes trailing up her towel clothed body before meeting her own. He seemed to sense her conflict (which wasn't difficult given their past), and he stood up out of the water.

She'd been right about the whole 'no clothes' part. That was for certain.

Her mouth watered at the sight of him, much like the water that cascaded down his naked body as he stood there. She didn't stop her eyes from roaming; she couldn't. He extended a hand out to her, one long leg lifting over the edge of the porcelain to step out of the claw foot tub. Water dripped off his body onto the floor mat beneath him, and it wasn't long before he stood right in front of her once more. Her eyes were on his chest - where her eye level pointed directly since he was so tall. She focused on the hard muscle beneath the skin, a protective layer of fat covering the muscle - he was dense and warm, the kind of body that you wanted to cuddle up to; the kind of chest that you wanted to fall asleep on. She didn't want to look in his eyes; instead she focused on the dark hair on his chest that the water droplets clung to, the hair that traveled down and down and down - No, she wasn't going to look there, either.

"Where'd all that fire go?" he murmured, his voice low and sensual. It was said so quietly that she wasn't even sure if he was talking to her or of if he was commenting to himself. She felt his fingertips graze the backs of her hands, then close around her clenched fists, including the one still holding the giant breadknife. From there his hands stroked a line all the way up to her elbows where he lifted her limbs and placed them around his neck. It was so much harder not to look at him now - she had to keep her head tilted downwards. "'Chelle," She closed her eyes to keep from looking up into his. His hands were on her face then, gently but firmly tilting her head back. She knew what was coming, and she knew once she hit that certain point she wouldn't want to say no, wouldn't want to tell him to leave.

When she felt his lips touch hers, she knew that point had come. There was no going back now.

౨ৎ

AN: I do not own the Watchmen franchise or any of it's characters. Michelle is my own OC. I also do not own the song 'Natural Born Sinner' by In This Moment. The above pictures are from pinterest, there's links attached that go back to the original posts.

part two

[queenbeerps]

hey, hi, hello! i haven't been on this blog in a century, but the writing bug has bitten me. SO, this is me reaching out for some 1x1 partners. i write on discord or here on tumblr. i greatly prefer doubles and mumus and i write m/f and f/f ships. i prefer one to two solid paragraphs for reply length, as well. right now, i'm craving both original plots and some specific fandoms (mostly oc x cc!) : the walking dead, stardew valley, stranger things, glee, and dead by daylight. but i could be persuaded into some modern disney stuff. anyway, i'm putting a bunch of details for what i'm looking for specifically under the cut! so go ahead and like this and i'll reach out or feel free to message me. thanks! ʚ♡ɞ

below i have listed some specific cravings i'm having at the moment. i am happy to double and give you whoever you'd like in return! i have bolded the role i'd like to play. if there are no bolds, i'll play either.

FANDOM WANTS --

♡ THE WALKING DEAD ;

female oc x negan. (BIG HUGE WANT.) female oc x siddiq. female oc x rick. female oc x shane.

♡ STARDEW VALLEY ;

female farmer oc x sam. female farmer oc x sebastian. female farmer oc x alex. female farmer oc x leah.

♡ STRANGER THINGS ;

female oc x billy. female oc x steve. female oc x hopper. chrissy x eddie.

♡ GLEE ;

female oc x sam. female oc x finn. quinn x puck. quinn x finn. mercedes x sam.

♡ DEAD BY DAYLIGHT ;

meg x nea. kate x dwight. sable x mikaela.

ORIGINAL CHARACTER WANTS --

♡ PLOTS ;

crime plots of all types. a plot based on the movie 'sweet home alabama'. plots based on taylor swift songs. big city mumu. apocalypse mumu. anything with a good mix of fluff and angst! (legal) age gap plots.

♡ WANTED OPPOSITES ;

jeffrey dean morgan, dacre montgomery, joe keery, michael b jordan, george mackay, andrew lincoln, m shadows, john boyega, theo james, jon bernthal, bill skarsgard, zacky vengeance, henry cavill, gregg sulkin, avi nash, jack quaid, adam driver.

[ophelia-jones]

The scouting team was preparing for their journey when they were alerted to a group of people approaching the gate. Daryl clutched his pistol and prepared for a fight as he hurried that way. When he got there, though, he was surprised to see a group of women and children. They looked tired and slightly disheveled, but not malnourished or sickly.  There was something familiar about one little girl, something he couldn't quite identify. She gave him a sense of deja vu.

As he approached, he saw a woman of around his age, short and square framed with a stern, world-weary face and graying brown hair. She shook hands with Rick as Daryl stepped up beside him, his weapon still in hand but lowered at his side.

"Thank you for agreeing to let us in, Rick. I wouldn't have blamed you for refusing. My name is Jessie Durham, this is Shondra Johnson. We are what remains of the community of Haven."

Daryl's stomach dropped, his eyes scanning the area for Etta even though he knew if she were amongst them he would have seen her already.

"We have come here on two counts." Jessie continued, "The first of which is to request asylum.  If not for all of us, at least for the children. Both Etta and Negan have made it clear they believe you are good people, and that you would not hurt the most vulnerable." 

Daryl and Rick exchanged a concerned look at the mention of Negan.

"Negan said that?" Rick frowned.

"He did. He has a great deal of respect for you, officer grimes." Jessie replied matter-of-factly.

"What's the other reason?" Daryl asked suspiciously. This time it was Shondra and Jessies turn to exchange a loaded look.

"We would like to open a discussion of the extradition of Negan from Haven into your custody." She told them, watching their reactions carefully. Both men were somber, scowling at her words in concern and disbelief.

"On what terms? I'm sure you have some which are nonnegotiable," Rick asked. 

"We need an assurance of mercy. You must promise you will spare his life." 

Daryl scoffed bitterly.

"That son of a bitch didn't show us any god damned mercy! Where was his mercy when he killed Glenn in front of his pregnant wife?" he demanded. "When he was killing people just to make a damned impression?" 

"We understand he did terrible, unforgivable things," Shondra spoke up, Vida balanced against her hip, clinging to the woman she called her mother. She had been through a great deal in recent days, and it showed in her haunted blue eyes. She sucked her thumb and stared at the strangers apprehensively.

Rick nodded in agreement with her statement but allowed her to continue uninterrupted. 

"If it weren't for his intervention and protection, however, each of us would be dead or worse. If you should insist on executing him you will be met with resistance and many good people on both sides will likely die. We have seen more than enough violence for one lifetime." 

"Worse than dead?" Daryl scoffed, he could not imagine what that meant. Michonne's eyes were cast downward and Shondra nodded toward the woman. 

"She understands," she said, and Michonne nodded once, silencing Rick and Daryl's skepticism. 

Olivia stepped out from behind Jessie, even though she had been instructed multiple times to remain silent. She was not one to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself.

"Aunt Etta said you wanted to hurt my daddy!" she declared, glaring fiercely at the strangers. "Why do you want to hurt my daddy? He takes care of all of us! I love him!" 

"Olivia, what did we say?" Jessie asked sternly.

"Let the grown-ups talk," she replied sullenly. Then she looked up at Rick defiantly. "We need daddy and mommy. Please don't take them away." She clenched her fists despite the tears in her eyes.

"Come on, why don't I take the kids to wash up and have something to eat?" Carol offered. After she had ushered the young ones away, it was only the four women, Shondra, Jessie, Amari, and Harper who remained.

"Negan didn't show any damned mercy when he took away Herschel's father." Daryl reminded Rick.

"If you kill Negan because he killed someone you loved, then someone who loved Negan has the same right to kill you, by your reasoning. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind," Harper spoke for the first time. Though she wasn't quite seventeen she had an impressive presence about her. 

"Carl said the same thing," Rick replied sadly. "that was my son."

"We know about Carl. Negan cared a great deal about him. He told us he was too good for a world like this." Harper informed Rick. It was Michonne's turn to scoff.

"He needs to keep that boy's name out of his mouth. He doesn't have any right to claim any kind of relationship with our son!" she told them fiercely. Shondra and Jessie exchanged a look of concern.

"Let's sit and talk this through," Rick said, and it was clear he was speaking not only to the new arrivals but to his people as well. It was not a request, but an order.

"We don't come empty-handed, expecting your protection and cooperation for no return," Jessie informed them. "If you'll look in the back of the truck you'll find fresh produce, venison jerky, and medical supplies. Also," she said, reaching into the back of the UTV, "Etta asked me to see this got safely back in your hands. I assume you're Daryl, right?" she lifted the crossbow and looked at the man Etta had described so lovingly. Daryl accepted the peace offering silently.

"You must be hungry, let's get you some food and rest. I'll gather the council and we will meet later today to discuss this further," Rick told the women. Daryl followed behind the others at a distance, looking thoughtfully at the weapon he had built with his own two hands. 

"She wouldn't come in," he heard someone say. He looked up to see Rosita had joined them. "I told her she could come in with the rest of them, but she wouldn't." 

"She's here?" Daryl asked, trying to ignore the too-familiar tightness in his chest. Rosita shook her head.

"Not anymore, she left on foot once the others were inside." She could see the conflict dancing in Daryl's eyes. "Go. You know I want justice for Abraham, I'll speak for you if you aren't back before they start." 

Daryl paused a moment longer - he wasn't sure what he would say. He was still hurt by her deception. His desire to see her  won out, however, and he thanked Rosita with a slight nod and hurried to get his motorcycle. He'd catch her faster that way than trying to do it on foot.

**  Etta wasn't moving all that fast, between the fact that there were a daunting amount of miles ahead of her and the twist of emotions knotting up her gut.  She wasn't even sure what she wanted the others to accomplish at Alexandria, other than being safe.

She had cared for Negan once but the betrayal she felt was deeper than any she had ever felt - except  her mothers.  Her thoughts were overwhelming as she walked through the woods, just off the road. She didn't want to be out in the open, she was too vulnerable on her own with just one backpack full of the most basic supplies. 

Hell, if she didn't want to keep an eye on Verity, she wouldn't go back to Haven at all. She would go south or east and finally see the ocean. 

She heard the sound of his engine long before he came into sight.  She was tempted to hide and let him go right on past. She had hurt him enough already, after all. But Etta wanted so desperately to see him once more - so the last memory she had of him was not at the school that day. Not with the raw betrayal in his eyes. Even if he hated her, it had to be better than that. Her chest ached every time she thought of him yelling at her to go home; calling her a liar.

Now she stood, not far off the road, and waited. Her heartbeat seemed to pick up with the volume of the motorcycle's engine. She was so transfixed, she didn't even hear the walkers approaching her from behind. 

*** 

Verity sat in the apartment at the far end of the building; the one she had locked Negan into when he first arrived. 'how poetic' she thought bitterly. 

He had been furious, of course. She had known he would be. He needed to be in control, couldn't stand anything happening without his permission. That was why she had known she had to do it the way she did. He would not have let the others go - not with the children. He couldn't control what happened to them out there, couldn't have the illusion that he could keep them safe. He loved those kids, maybe more than he loved her. Certainly, more than he loved himself.  

She heard the lock turn on the door but didn't turn away from the window. She knew it would be Dwight with her food. Negan hadn't come to see her in the week she had been confined. 

"Dinner," Dwight said, trying to get her attention. She wasn't hungry though. How could she work up an appetite when she was locked up all day?

"Do you still think you will be able to go through with it?" she asked the broken man who had, inexplicably, become her confidante. 

"I'm tempted to try and just kill him myself if I'm honest," Dwight sighed. "He took everything from me, and has never shown me any remorse."

"But?" Verity asked, still gazing out the window at the forest. Half a dozen walkers were roaming around. It was a sign Etta had not yet returned. At least she hoped that she hadn't. Because if she had, and the walkers had not been cleared, it meant something worse than a broken heart had overcome her.

"But being at Rick Grimes' mercy will be the worst punishment for him. He deserves it more than death - dying would be too quick a punishment." Dwight replied honestly. 

"What will you do, after it's all over?" she asked.

"I'm going back out to look for Sherry again. I should never have given up, never should have fallen back in with these assholes." Dwight told her.  "I didn't used to be this way, you know?"

"The world has changed, and it has changed us. We have to work to remind ourselves who we want to be, rather than who this world is trying to make us. I believe in second chances, hell I believe in third chances. As long as we are breathing, we can start being better." Verity told Dwight, turning to face him for the first time.

"I wish I had that kind of faith," He said, his scruffy hair hanging over the burn scars covering half his face.

"You're still here, Dwight. You're a survivor. You have what it takes," Verity said. With that, her secret ally left her to eat in peace and quiet. Negan could have his illusion of control by locking her in, but her plan to save him from himself was still in motion. All she could do now was wait and hope that Etta's faith in Rick Grimes was not misplaced.

[stauerk]

a highly selective & mutually exclusive TONY STARK / IRON MAN of MARVEL , //. mature themes present , ; dni if under age of twenty1 , //. triggers included but not limited to , ; history of drug & alcohol abuse , post traumatic stress disorder , anxiety , depression , //. written by dee , she / her , twenty9 , slow replies , personal blogs please do not interact , originally created in 2012 , most recent revamp 08.24

PORTRAYAL NOTE . this blog primarily writes in the mcu verse , however i have other verses & varients of tony stark . interactions will automatically be put into my mcu verses , unless requested otherwise . my comic 616 verse , & avengers a - day verse is open to anyone , i just ask you communicate with me & request these portrayals of tony if interested . please note all these other verses have different fc's to separate them . mcu fc: robert downey jr . earth 616 fc: animated & tbd avengers a - day: animated & pedro pascal

RULES & ADDITIONAL INFORMATION FOUND BELOW CUT

AFFILIATED with: @apologizelater , @freckledboss , @jadejaw

(𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗌) (𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌) (𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗌) ( 𝖻𝗂𝗈 ) (𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌)

general rules. //

credits ; i do not own any rights to the character of tony stark / iron man , nor any affiliation with any faceclaim's i use , all writing & graphics are of my own creations unless stated otherwise ,

selectivity ; this blog is mutually exclusive , if we aren't mutually following one another please do not interact with my blog ,

shipping ; open to shipping if there's chemistry there , my go to is canon tony/pepper (pepperony) . open to shipping tony with both male & female muses ,

smut content ; may be present & will only be written with those i'm close with ,

activity ; i work shiftwork as a nurse & also enjoy keeping a busy personal life , therefore replies will be slower , i can however always be contacted through direct messaging & on discord ( available to mutuals ) for plotting & chatting , however i may too be slow on replying to messages as well

secondary blogs ; if i'm not here you can find me on my other blogs , ; phil coulson ( @aeygent ) , joel miller ( @syeurvive ) , muses i intend on returning at some point will also include: negan smith , logan howlett , jim hopper , lucifer morningstar , raymond reddington ,

[ghostferreira]

just venting

i was reading some daryl dixon stories on wattpad and i can't say that i'm impressed. why are people afraid of writting original female characters on their 30s or 40s? why they all have to be 18 or so? this only makes me think that the character is based on the writer - that is probably on her 20s - and not an ORIGINAL character

i see that a lot specially with strong characters like daryl / rick / negan, billy butcher, sirius black, winchesters and the list goes on...

please stop with that age-gap obssession. there's no problem with different ages but does it have to be 10 to 20 years difference ALWAYS?

and i know that there is good stories with younger characters (i would love recomendations too), but i hate so much younger girls that have no background, they're just so cool and they know everything about life in such a young age...

please share some good stories i'm going crazy