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walkerwords · 2 years

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“For The Love of a Daughter” Final Part - Negan & Daughter!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: Gene Page/AMC

PART 1 PART 2

Summary: When Negan decides to meet you on your terms, you have hope for a resolution that doesn't involve more bloodshed. Only not everything goes according to plan...

Word Count: 6832

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood, References to Suicide

Song I Wrote To: “Saturn” by Sleeping at Last

Note: Final part. I never thought I would finish this but I don't like to leave things open-ended.

------

You had left the others to have a private conversation much to Sasha’s dismay.

You knew why she distrusted you and you didn’t fault her for any of it. If you had been in her situation, trust also would have been something that was thinning by the hour.

Deciding on one of the watch posts, Jesus dismissed the guard and stayed nearby to dissuade anyone from approaching the ladder. He never once asked you what your plan was but you knew that was the diplomat in him.

“How’s the expecting mother?” your father’s voice crackled along the radio channel.

“She’s fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Though, Abraham’s girlfriend is about to build her own atomic bomb to drop on your community.”

“Which one was that?” he asked and you tightened your grip on the radio.

“Are you done with the concerned bullshit?” you asked and he chuckled.

“I figured I could get away with more casual banter without you punching me in the face,” Negan said. “How is your hand by the way?” You looked down at your red and purple hand, courtesy of the right hook you have given him in the RV.

“A little bruised skin is not going to kill me,” you said. “Do you know what I’m doing right now?”

“Brewing in hatred?”

“I am looking at an entire community of people who would love to see your head on a pike.”

“Alexandria is that hardcore, huh?”

“I’m not at Alexandria,” you said, watching as the sun crested the trees. Hilltop began to glow with the promise of a new day. This time without one of their allies.

“You could be here,” Negan offered. “The Sanctuary is safe.”

“Sanctuary,” you repeated. “Where did you get that name? I never pegged you for religious type.”

“I never pegged you for someone capable of killing someone with your bare hands and yet, here we are.” Anger threatened to rise from your gut again but you pushed it down.

You had yelled enough. You were hurt, angry, and in pure disbelief of what you had witnessed in the clearing and then what he had said to you in the RV. You always knew that there would be the Before and the After when it came to the world. You were now in the After, but the Before was feeling lightyears in the past. You knew your father’s face, but other than that he felt like a stranger.

“I’ve killed people,” you began again after a few moments of silence. “I’ve killed a lot of people, but I don’t tend to let my emotions take over when I'm angry. My reaction earlier was not who I am anymore, do you understand?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re some kind of sociopath now, kid? ‘Cause I hate to break it to you, Darlin’ but you don’t exactly give me Dahmer vibes.” Sighing, you ran a hand over your head.

“You killed someone very important to me,” you said. “He…he saved my life once. They all have.”

“They murdered my men in their sleep, (Y/N). Those men had girlfriends, they had families. Are you telling me I should have let it go? You think I should have just turned a blind fucking eye?”

“No,” you said and you meant it. Once you realized what had happened at the Satellite Station, you knew there would be eventual consequences. “I’m not saying that what you did was worse than what we did, but you enjoyed it.” Tears were pricking at your eyes as frustration rose inside you. “You smiled, laughed, and didn’t seem to care that a kid was watching. I haven’t known this group for long, but I’ve heard stories and from what I can tell, Rick and his people don’t tend to leave survivors.”

“There is a first time for everything, kid,” Negan said.

“They want to kill you, and I don’t…” you trailed off, trying to find the nerve to say it. The words were there, stuck in your throat.

“You don’t what?” he asked and you could hear a challenge in his voice. The same tone of voice he would use with your grandfather when he would overstep around your mother.

“I don’t disagree,” you finally said and this time, Negan was quiet.

“So there it is, huh? You want to kill me because I killed one man when your people killed twenty-four!” You didn’t flinch at the loud tone but it did gain attention from Jesus who looked up before looking away again. “Not to mention the men your little buddy with the crossbow killed with a fucking bazooka! You don’t see me dropping bombs on your little suburban paradise, now do you, (Y/N)?”

“I am not here to argue morals,” you snapped back. “I am trying to stop more bloodshed!”

“Too late, sweetheart,” Negan said. “The way I see it, you either come here or I come there and get you. Either way, I am not letting you stay with those fuckers another moment.”

“You don’t get to make demands when it comes to me. I may be your daughter but I am not some fucking child you can whistle at and I’ll come running home when the streetlights come on.”

“I’m not going to stop.”

“I know,” you said, wiping the tears that had finally fallen. “I have a counter offer.”

“This is not some kind of fucking debate, kid.”

“It’s either you listen to me or I disappear and if you want to see me again, you can get through my 'little buddy with the crossbow’.” Negan was quiet but you could practically see his reaction. Whenever he was mad, he got quiet and that’s when you knew he wasn’t just mad but he was going to make sure you damn well knew what he was thinking.

“What’s the offer?”

“It’s something we need to discuss face to face. Not at Alexandria or Hilltop or your damn Sanctuary. You and me, alone, on neutral ground. Only then will I tell you my terms and how we can fix this without going to war or more people dying.”

“And how do I know you’re not just trying to get me out in the open so one of those pissed-off girlfriends can take a shot at me?”

“Because they trust me and if I ask them to stand down for one meeting, they will. Rick knows that if our groups fight only more people will die. While he’s not opposed to killing, they’ve lost enough.”

“What does the little weasel of Hilltop think?”

“I don’t give two shits what happens to Gregory, but if you agree to see me, you cannot move in on Hilltop or anyone community you currently have under your boot.” He was silent again, but you had given him enough to think about.

The problem was, you didn’t have a counter offer. You had no idea how to fix this issue without giving yourself over to your father. Even if that was acceptable to Negan, you knew Daryl and Rick would never allow it. There would be a war regardless. Finally, Negan’s voice came back over the radio.

“Where?”

--------

“You’re walking into a trap,” Rosita said as you pulled your jacket on.

“He’s not going to hurt me,” you explained. It took a few days to figure everything out, but eventually, you settled on a place to meet your father. It was going to be in an old strip mall about halfway between the Sanctuary and Alexandria. While Rosita was sure that you were walking into a trap, the truth was, you were the one setting the snare.

Everyone wanted revenge for Abraham, but you were able to get them to calm down long enough for you to propose something else. You knew that Negan wasn’t going to stop even after his warning in the clearing. He wanted you with him and while you weren’t thrilled by the idea of being in his clutches, if your idea didn’t work, that would be something you would have to come to terms with.

“If I can negotiate some sort of deal where the Saviors leave Alexandria alone, then it will be worth it,” you explained.

“He said he wasn’t going to do anything unless we messed with them again,” Gabriel said.

“And you believe him?” Daryl asked, shaking his head.

“Look,” you continued, “even if he won’t take my offer, then he at least has to tell me to my face he’s going to try to kill more of my people. That alone may make him hesitate.”

“And if he grabs you and tries to haul your ass back to the Sanctuary?” Daryl countered.

“He won’t do anything that would put me in danger. That includes having his men attack me.”

“You haven’t been around him for years, kid,” Daryl continued. “He don’t exactly seem like father of the year right now and I don’t trust him.”

“Then trust me,” you said as you slid a gun into a holster under your jacket. “Because if you don’t, more people are going to die.” Daryl stared at you before turning away and huffing.

“We do trust you,” Rick said.

“Good, then do as I say and stay here. Negan gave me his word he’d be alone and that is the one thing I trust is that he doesn’t lie, at least not to me.”

“Keep the radio on,” Rosita said with a sigh. Taking it you hooked it onto your belt before swinging your leg over Daryl’s motorcycle. You had never learned to drive a car but Daryl had insisted on teaching you how to handle a bike.

“If you don’t hear from me by nightfall, something has gone wrong. I’ll call in when I get there. Do not do anything stupid,” you warned. Rick gave your shoulder a squeeze before you kick-started the bike and Aaron opened the gate. He gave you a nod as you passed and you knew all of this was bothering him the most. He had known you the longest and he had seen what Negan was capable of the night in the clearing.

Ignoring the lump in your throat, you drove from Alexandria and hoped Negan had indeed kept his word.

--------

You had made it to the mall before your father did.

The front of the bike was covered in Walker blood as you ran through a group on the way into the city. You plucked some brains off your shoulder in disgust before leaning against the storefront once again. Considering the tall fences and razor wire, you figured the mall had once been either a shelter or a small community before its inhabitants had moved on. Luckily, they had locked up before evacuating.

A lone Walker stumbled around the corner and immediately set its sights on you through the bars of the fence. You watched it, the creature growling and stumbling over debris in the parking lot. When they weren’t actively trying to kill you, you began to feel bad for them. This one especially looked as if it had been stuck out in the hot sun longer than others. Its skin was like paper and one arm was almost completely skeletal from where the flesh had been torn off.

You watched it for another moment before it turned away from you, its attention being drawn somewhere else. It was only a second later when its head exploded from a wire-wrapped baseball bat. Negan stepped into view as he flicked the brains from the bat.

“I think a knife would have worked just fine,” you said, your heart speeding up. Negan paused and then a smile spread across his face before he turned to look at you through the bars.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said as he sat into one of his hips, a pure image of ease. “Always so punctual, huh kid?” he asked as he approached the gate. You beat him there, drawing your gun.

“Are you alone?” you asked, searching for the slimy face of Simon or the vacant sneer of Dwight. Jesus had spent time updating everyone on Negan’s right hands and you weren’t taking any chances.

“I told you I’d come alone, didn’t I?” he said and after scanning the area behind him, you finally unlatched the gate and let him in. “Thank you.” You rolled your eyes as he passed and closed up behind you again.

You both were silent and it was awkward. You didn’t quite know how to start. He was looking at you as if he had won a war that had started. However, there was also something else you recognized as love, something you hadn’t seen in some time. It was then that you remember that he wasn’t just your father, he was someone who protected you, someone who apparently still wanted to do that.

“Well, I’m here,” he said. “What is this counteroffer that you wish to bestow upon me, kiddo?”

“Come on,” you said and nodded towards the interior of the mall.

“Still don’t trust I don’t have men somewhere, huh?”

“I see you’re still capable of using your brain,” you shot back and he sighed.

“Always so snippy,” Negan said. “You get that from your mother, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t talk about her,” you said. “You don’t get to talk about her, you don’t get to talk about her to me or anyone else. She would be fucking ashamed of you.”

“Don’t do that,” he said as he grabbed you by the arm and spun you around to face him. His height made you look up at him, something you always hated. “She may have been your mother, but she was my wife. I loved her, too. I did everything I could to keep her safe. You are not the only one who lost her, (Y/N).”

“No, but I’m the only one who was there by her side. I was the one who had to reassure her that you were always going to come back. Me! Not you!” You shoved away from him.

“Is this why you fucking brought me out here? To tell me how much of a shit father I am? ‘Cause I know that already!” he bellowed. “Here I am trying to make up for the time we spent apart and you’re being…”

“I’m being what?” you challenged.

“Difficult,” he finished.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you were going to say.”

“Kid, I swear to god…”

“What? What are you going to do?” you said. “I hate to break it to you, Dad, but I am not a child anymore. You cannot drag my ass home because I broke curfew. You talk about the new world order but did you ever stop to think that everything you have done since she died was wrong?”

“I killed one man!” he yelled. “One!”

“I don’t care about that!” you screamed and it was then you finally admitted the truth to yourself. Yes, you were hurt that Abraham was dead, but this was about more than one dead man. “I care that you became…this. I’ve killed people and yes, sometimes, I have even fucking liked it. My problem is that you fucking left and became some goddamn tyrant instead of trying to find me. I came here today to get my own answers! I’m not actually here to barter some fucking peace treaty! That’s just what I said so I could come alone because I know I cannot change your stubborn ass mind. This isn’t about Alexandria versus the Saviors, this is about me, Dad. I need answers!”

You were out of breath by the time you finished and Negan wasn’t looking at you. His attention was on the ground and his shoulders were up as if he was preparing for an attack. You braced yourself for the yelling, but then those same shoulders dropped and he finally looked at you and there were tears in his eyes. He went to say something before he shut his mouth again and shook his head.

“Now, you’re quiet?” you scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“You…” he said before running a hand over his face. Worn out, you turned and walked away from him again. “(Y/N),” he called as he followed you but you just kept shaking your head.

“This was a mistake,” you said as you took a sharp right and pushed through a set of doors, and froze. “Shit.”

“What?” he asked when he reached you, and that’s when the noise finally reached both of your ears. “Shit,” he echoed.

“I guess they didn’t actually leave,” you said as you beheld a mass of Walkers milling around what might have been some sort of arcade or food establishment based on the decor. They were alerted to the two of you immediately. Spinning around, you were met with more Walkers who had come out of hiding, most likely from the yelling. Negan swung Lucille as you kicked out at Walker approaching you. Backing up, you knew you needed an escape plan but the old building had other ideas.

As the small horde pushed in, you stepped back onto the rotting floor and it gave out. Negan grabbed you just as it collapsed and you both went down, Walkers and debris following you down into the dark.

-------

There was a lot of noise all at once and it was disorienting.

Someone was talking to you but it sounded muffled. “Daryl?” you asked, blinking away the dust but he didn’t answer instead deeper and more familiar voice reached your ears.

“Not this time, kiddo,” they said as you were hauled to your feet. Blinking again, you focused on his face.

“Dad?” you asked, trying to control the fogginess.

“We gotta move,” he said and it began to come back to you.

“Shit,” you said, regaining movement in your legs and remembering where you were. Blood was splashed on your face and your father's as he swung his bat to clear a path. Your hands were shaking too much to pull your gun so you kept close to your father as he pushed his way through the Dead that were shambling behind and in front of you.

Most of it was a blur from when you landed on the lower level to when Negan was pulling you into a room near the back of the sublevel, slamming the door behind the both of you. “We need a back way out of here,” he said as you braced your hands on an old desk, trying to regain full awareness.

“Is this a basement?” you asked.

“Yeah, but not a total dead end, I can see light through there,” Negan said pointing through a hole in a somewhat boarded-up window that lead to another sublevel office.

“Okay,” you said, finally standing up straight and pulling your gun. You clicked the safety off and rolled out your shoulders.

“Not sure how much that is going to help against all of those damn Biters,” he said, listening to the Dead press themselves against the door he was barricaded with furniture.

“It’s better than nothing,” you said as your hand continued to shake. You began taking inventory of your body, making sure nothing was actually broken and working off pure adrenaline.

“We just got lucky,” he said as he paced a bit before pressing on the walls, hoping to find anything to get out of the room unscathed. You watched him as your mind raced through possible outcomes as well. “What are you thinking about, kid?” he asked and you didn’t miss the concern in his tone which only made you more irritated.

“I’m thinking about putting a bullet in your head before Sasha does,” you bit out as your thumb ran along the barrel of your gun. “Or worse, Carl.”

“You would kill me?” he asked, his feet finally stopping making s dent in the rotting carpet.

“To me, you’ve been dead for years. Now, there would just be a body to bury,” you said.

“You don’t mean that,” he said and you didn’t but you didn't have the strength to tell him at that moment. You were still angry. You also didn't have the time as your radio sputtered to life and a familiar drawl reached your ears. Pulling the walkie, you waited for Daryl to speak again.

“You there?”

“Remember that time you told me you fell down a hill and impaled yourself on your own bolt?” you asked as you rubbed your back where you had landed on what you thought was a broken table.

“What did he do?” Daryl asked and Negan scoffed.

“Unbelievable,” Negan said. “As if I would fucking hurt you.”

“Nothing, Daryl,” you said. “The floor must have had water damage or something. We fell through in the arcade and now we got maybe one way out.”

“Shit.”

“Not exactly my cup of tea, either,” you said.

“Are you hurt?”

“Bruised and a few scrapes, but nothing I’m not used to. I’ve had worse,” you said and Negan looked at you as if he could see scars or wounds from the past. You ignored him.

“I know,” Daryl said. “Alright, screw it. We’re coming to get you.”

“Daryl,” you warned.

“Nah, fuck this. I don’t care about a peace treaty. Nothin’s gets solved if ya become Walker food.”

“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

“No,” he said and you could hear muffled voices in the background. One of them sounded like Carl.

“Fine,” you said. “Look for the old gaming building with all the Dead and the smell of possible patricide.”

“Hey!” Negan said.

“On my way.”

You stowed the radio back in your jacket before clutching it closer to you. You couldn’t tell if you were shaking from adrenaline or the cold, but it was starting to get to you. Negan noticed as well as the next thing you knew he was shrugging out of his jacket and offering it to you. You hesitated, not wanting to touch anything of his.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, kid,” he said. With a sigh, you snatched the jacket and pulled it across your shoulders, careful not to breathe in any of its scents. Not that it would matter, you figured all you would smell would be blood and rot. “You and Daryl seem close,” Negan continued and you looked up at him.

“He’s a good man, a good friend,” you said.

“Is that all?” he asked and you grimaced.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, repulsed and Negan then realized what you thought he was inferring.

“God, no,” he backtracked. “I didn’t mean…fuck. No, I meant he seemed closer than a friend like family or a…father.”

“I told you they were my family,” you said.

“Right,” he said, placing his bat down and wiping the blood on his jeans.

“Daryl has lost enough people, I don’t plan to make him lose me, too,” you said.

“And you think that’s going to happen if you come with me?”

“I don’t think you’re going to kill me, if that is what you’re thinking,” you said.

“I wasn’t, but nice to know you don’t think I am capable of killing my only daughter.”

“You seem to be capable of a lot of things these days,” you muttered, moving to peer into the adjacent office that seemed to be boarded shut. The small hole only managed to give you some advantage.

“Are we going to talk about what you said up top? About you wanting answers?” he asked and you took a breath, ready to answer him when suddenly a hand, an arm, then a torse came bursting from the small hole in the glass and grabbed hold of your arm, its teeth aiming for your sleeve. In shock, you dropped your gun and tried to pull your arm away as the teeth snagged the leather.

Negan rushed at you, Lucille forgotten, as he ripped the Walker off of you, pressing it back with both of his hands. He shouted as you fell over from loss of contact. A second later, Negan had slammed the Walker’s head into the side of a shard of glass, killing the creature instantly.

“Fuck,” you panted. “How the fuck did we not hear that?”

“Throat was slit,” Negan said from behind you, his voice shaky from exertion. “Are you hurt?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Jacket stopped the teeth,” you said. “I’m fine.”

“That makes one of us,” Negan said quietly and you froze.

Gone was the confident tone of his voice. Gone was the anger and the stubbornness. Those five words sounded more like your father than anything else. Slowly, you turned to face him but all you saw was his back, his white t-shirt damp with sweat.

“Negan?” you asked, but he didn’t answer. “Dad?” you tried again and that was when he turned to you and something broke inside you. His right shoulder was slicked with blood and in the low light, you could see two half-moon shapes embedded in his skin. Your blood ran cold and the world tilted at the sight of the bite.

“I guess I spoke too soon about being lucky,” he said with an attempt at a laugh. “Rotten luck.” You were moving before you knew it, reaching for him. His hand found the collar of the jacket. “Always knew this thing was going to come in handy.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, your hands fluttering over the bite, unsure what to do. “I-I need to find something. Do you have a knife, we have to move fast. We can…yes…we can…”

“Stop,” Negan said, grabbing your face with his left hand. “Stop.”

“No, the infection is spreading, we have to get it out.”

“It’s too high up and you know it. Cutting this off is not an option,” he said but you were shaking your head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Negan tightened his grip on you as you kept your eyes on the bleeding bite. “This is how it happens, kiddo.”

“You’re giving up,” you said, still trying to comprehend.

“There’s nothing to do, sweetheart,” he said and that was when you looked up at him and saw his eyes. His sad eyes. “I always said I was going to go when I was damn good and ready. Next to my kid seems like the way to do it if any.”

“But—,” you said but he shook his head.

“Talk about karma, huh?” he said, leaning back against the wall. “Now nobody has to kill anyone. This is your mother’s doing, I just know it. From the grave that woman still has to have the last word,” he said, but the joke didn’t land. Negan slid down the wall as reality began to seep in. “I did all of it to survive, you know?” he said as you followed him to the floor.

“Don’t talk,” you said, your voice thick.

“No, you wanted answers. Good as time as any to give them,” he said. “I had to survive somehow. I felt like I owed it to you and I did. I had to keep going because that’s what you would have wanted.”

“I would have wanted you alive,” you said.

“You just said you wanted to put a bullet in my brain,” he said with a smirk.

“Kids say they want to kill their parents all the time,” you choked out. “It’s a rebellious thing.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said with a sigh. “You’re here though. You’re alive and you can keep living. For you and for your mother. God knows I didn’t exactly do anything to keep her memory alive. You were right to be pissed about the damn bat.”

“She would have hated it,” you said.

“I know,” he whispered.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, wondering if you should be adding pressure to it or not.

“Nah, just a pinch. Just like when we’d get those flu shots when you were little.”

“Those hurt,” you said.

“But you still got it done,” he said, reaching up to place a hand against your cheek. “Always brave, my girl.” You watched as he winced a couple of times and you began to count backward. Some people took a whole day to turn, others only hours depending on the kind of bite.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here. I should have gone to the Sanctuary,” you said.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “This is not your fault.”

“I caused this drama.”

“It’s in your DNA,” he said, attempting another joke. “You had to stick to your guns, kiddo. I admire that.”

“Dad, please,” you said.

“Nothing to do, Darlin’,” he said. “Hell, if there’s anyone out there immune, it’s definitely not me.” Negan was quiet for a moment before he began to laugh and you were worried hysteria was one of the symptoms. “Full circle though, huh?” he said.

“What?” you asked.

“The first time you killed a Walker, you were saving me. The last time I killed one, I was saving you. Ain’t we a pair?” he said. A tear rolled down your cheek.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to yell at him, maybe punch him again, get an explanation, and then move on. Maybe even offer to actually go with him if he left your family alone. Hell, even give Daryl time to think of a better plan, but not this.

Never this.

“The Sanctuary is going to need help,” he said, bringing you back into focus.

“Simon?” you asked but Negan was shaking his head.

“No, not Simon. He’s a fucking timebomb. He’s…fuck he’s unhinged. You have to promise to get rid of him or have Daryl do it. He can’t…he can’t be there without me to keep him in check.”

“He’s the one who killed the boy at Hilltop,” you blurted out. Negan sighed.

“I figured,” Negan said.

“I told them you would never kill a kid,” you whispered and his hand found yours. The growls of the dead seemed to get louder behind the door. Negan squeezed your hand tighter.

“You have to promise me not to let him get worse.”

“Okay, okay,” you said through another trickle of tears. He wiped them away with the back of his hand that was still joined with yours. Another thought occurred to you then. “They’ll think I killed you,” you whispered.

“No, they won’t,” he said firmly before lifting his right. “Give me the radio.” You handed it to him and he turned the dial a couple of times before lifting it to his mouth. “Frankie,” he said. After a moment, a woman’s voice came over the channel.

“What’s wrong?”

“Shit, girl, you sound concerned,” he said with a rasp and a smile.

“I get concerned when you sound like a normal person rather than a complete dick,” Frankie said. Negan was quiet then, his eyes flickering to yours. He had never mentioned a Frankie but Jesus had mentioned that your father had taken multiple wives. Or at least that was the rumor. Right now it was the last thing you were thinking about. You squeezed his hand again. “Negan?” Your father lifted the radio again.

“Time’s up, I’m afraid,” he said softly into the mic. “Son of a bitch world finally said fuck you right back at me.”

“Negan…” Frankie said, her voice low and quiet.

“It’s alright, Red. I got my girl with me,” he said as he looked at you. You weren’t hiding the tears this time. “She’s gonna take care of it. All of it. Her people…they’re good people.” You bowed your head over his hand, resting your chin on his knuckles.

“I can…” Frankie said, trying to come up with something to say, but Negan was shaking his head again.

“I should have listened to you earlier,” he said. “My fiery voice of reason.”

“I’m getting Dwight to you,” she said and Negan laughed.

“You do that, Red,” he said. “Just know that this wasn’t…this wasn’t anyone's fault.” Before she could respond, Negan changed the channel and dropped the radio before looking back at you. “No tears need to be shed for me, Darlin’,” he said.

“I’m not much of a crier these days,” you admitted.

“But?”

“But regardless of what happened…I found you. I just found you again and you go and do this.”

“Do what?”

“Damn heroics,” you whispered.

“Look at me,” he ordered and you did. “That is what fathers do for their kids. You may think I died years ago and that I’m not your dad anymore but you never stopped being my kid. Do you understand me, (Y/N)?” You nodded as a sob escaped your throat.

“I should call Daryl or Rick,” you said, reaching for the radio but his hand stopped your wrist.

“Not yet. Just be here with me for a bit, okay?” You nodded and then sat next to him, leaning against his other shoulder.

Everything you had thought about since you saw him in that clearing, laughing and postering suddenly felt years in the past rather than days.

All you could see now was his face when he picked you up from kindergarten or when you beat your mother at Monopoly for the fourth time in a row. You could hear his voice as he sang horrible versions of rock songs in the car to and from your mom’s chemo treatments. A memory of you trying on his glasses which were too big for your face was at the forefront of your trip down memory lane.

“I don’t hate you,” you whispered. “I never did.” You immediately felt him relax next to you and when you looked up at him, his eyes were closed and tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Dad?” His eyes met yours and he smiled softly.

“That’s all I needed to hear, babygirl,” he said and then wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer as the Dead continued to fight their way to you. Sitting in that office as your father stroked your hair, the promise of Death on the horizon, you started to not care if they did manage to break through and end you as well.

------

When asked later, you couldn’t remember how much time had passed when you heard the unmistakable sound of rapid-fire gunfire.

Your father was still next to you, sweat on his brow as the fever began to set in, but he was still alive. “Lucille,” he said and you looked at him as his eyes were on the bat. Sitting up, you grabbed the bat off the desk and handed it to him, but he pushed it back into your hands as more gunfire echoed through the air.”

“I can’t,” you said.

“You can,” he said, his voice scratchy as it became harder to swallow. “She protected me, she’ll protect you.” Seeing as he wasn’t taking no for an answer, you gripped the bat before letting it fall to your side on the ground. Voices that sounded familiar were getting closer and you knew it was only a matter of time before your people or his got to you.

“Time’s up, baby girl, you gotta go,” he said and you choked as he reached up to take hold of your face again.

“I can make you more comfortable or something,” you offered.

“It's okay, I know how I’m going out,” he said as he rubbed his thumb under your eye. Crying again, you leaned over him and pressed your forehead against his just as he did when you were sick as a child. He claimed it was to better feel your temperature. “I should have looked harder for you.”

You sobbed again.

“I should have stuck around to wait,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, kid.” Leaning back, you took a moment to remember his face as best as you could as Daryl’s deep voice reached you, calling your name.

“I love you,” you whispered and he smiled.

“I love you, too, kiddo. Always have.” You collapsed against him, listening to his heartbeat that would no longer echo in his chest soon. His arms encircled you, holding you as tight as he could. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry. You’re going to be okay. I know this because you never needed me, you always knew what to do, how to survive.”

“I always needed you,” you said and he rested his head on the top of your head. “Tell mom I miss her,” you managed to choke out and that was when he let out a quick sob as well.

“I will, Darlin’, I will.”

It was then that the door burst open and Daryl, Michonne, Rick, Carl, and a few Saviors you didn’t know finally managed to get into the room. They all froze at the sight before them. You, draped in your father’s jacket as you lay on his chest, your face streaked with tears as Negan tried to stay awake. Negan looked up and found Daryl. “Take her,” he said directly to the archer as he began to push you off of him. “Take her.”

Daryl moved forward as you tried to hold onto your father but Daryl managed to pry you off of him and that was when everyone saw the bite. Breaking out of Daryl's hold, you cried as you grabbed the bat and leaned over Negan, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

You wanted to say more but the words wouldn’t form. Instead, you pushed up your sleeve and placed your wrist in front of his face, showing him the Saturn charm you still had. He closed his eyes, sighing in relief.

Daryl was then keeping you on your feet as he pulled you from the room as your father asked for Laura and a blonde woman approached him. Daryl kept your back turned as he pushed you from the room, through the basement, and up the ladder that they had found. Carl and Michonne were behind you.

Exiting the arcade, more Saviors were out there, including Simon. Rosita, Jesus, and Aaron were there, too. Simon was staring at you and Lucille that was hanging from your hand. It was quiet for a few minutes as nobody moved before Simon finally lost it.

“What the fuck happened?” Simon demanded and Carl moved to your other side. Before he could ask again, Rick, Laura, and the other Saviors emerged. Simon looked to Laura and out of the corner of your eye, you saw her shake her head. Simon was fuming and he pointed a finger at you, his face reddening. “What did he say to you!” he demanded.

Looking around at the graveyard of corpses that had been shot down, nothing felt real. Blood was dripping from the weapon in your hand and tears were stinging your skin. Your family and your father’s soldiers were all staring at you and nothing at that moment felt as if it was going to be okay.

“I’m talking to you!” Simon yelled again and you heard Rick tell him to back off as Laura explained that Negan had been bitten. Simon was ranting and the others were looking confused as if they had no direction now.

They didn’t.

They were all Negan and he was gone.

Negan was gone.

Your father was gone.

You slowly looked up at Simon then and walked up to him, sliding your hand inside your coat and withdrawing your gun. He looked over at you as if you were nothing.

“Did you know that a year on Saturn is more than twenty-nine Earth years?” you asked, your voice void of emotion. Simon fully faced you then.

“What—” The bullet left your gun as fast as possible, entering his skull and exiting out the back. The shot echoed for miles as you lowered the pistol. Simon’s body dropped to the group, blood and gore seeping out from the back of his head. Guns were pointed at you but Laura was barking our orders.

“That was on Negan’s orders,” Laura explained.

You watched as Simon’s lifeless eyes stared up at the darkening sky. Daryl was next to you then, taking the gun from your shaking hand. He tried to take your hand but you shook your head, not wanting to be touched or comforted. Turning away from him, you approached a redhead that could only be one person. Handing Frankie the radio, you said, “Take care of the Sanctuary,” before turning and walking away.

You kept walking, not even bothering with the bike. When a final gunshot reached your ears, you hefted Lucille onto your shoulder and you turned your face to the sun as it set beyond the trees finally knowing the answer to what you’d always wondered.

You really were your father’s daughter and you would survive.

A/N: Sorry if this wasn't what you expected but this whole story was to look at what he would do for his daughter. Even if it meant an unhappy ending. This story is officially complete.

#the walking dead #twd #twd imagine series #twd imagines #negan #negan and daughter #walker words #walkerwords #negan imagine #negan & daughter!reader #apolloloki97 #reader insert

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apolloloki97 · 4 years

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My next works...

1) Sam Winchester x Reader: On @winchesterwords Part 2 of Keep Your Secrets that will be longer than part one! I promise! Going to go into what happened to the reader after sam gets back from the hunt!

2) Shane Walsh x Reader: On @walkerwords Based on the song “It’s Quiet Uptown” from Hamilton, this one-shot will examine how Shane and the Reader handle the loss of their child at the start of the apocalypse. lots of angst and gonna be a real “from the outside looking in” type story

3) Rick Grimes & Daughter!Reader: On @walkerwords Angsty as fuck story in which the reader, Rick’s daughter who is just over two years older than carl gets shot by arat instead of olivia after Rosita shoots lucille. will dive into the emotions of the grimes family and how negan reacts as well as a little twist at the end.

4) Spencer Reid x Neighbor!Reader: On @baubabble will be a collection of meetings between the reader and dr reid that is set post-prison as reid slowly settles back into his life as a civilian. Just something fun!

5) Daryl x Beth, Reader x (unrequited) Daryl: On @walkerwords Based on the song “Heather” by Conan Gray, this will focus on how the reader is in love with daryl, but he and beth are the ones that are close. Beth lives in this one and will examine the emotions the readers goes through as she watches the man she loves love someone else.

If you are interested in being tagged in any of these, let me know down below and I will add you! Also, feel free to request on all three of my blogs!

#imagines #winchesterwords #baubabble #walkerwords #walking dead imagines #supernatural imagines #criminal minds imagine #shane walsh x reader #sam winchester x reader #spencer reid x reader

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baubabble · 4 years

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Subtle differences update

I am almost done with part two. Had a set back but part 2 will be up tomorrow and then part 3 hopefully by friday. Im gonna try to sneak in a TWD fic before i finish this one 😌

#cm #criminal minds #spencer reid #aaron hotchner imagine #baubabble #walkerwords

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ficnation · 4 years

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get to know me

i was tagged by someone long time ago and I already forgot who was it but thank you for tagging me anyways :)

appearance

i’m over 5′5″ // i wear glasses or contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear makeup // i don't smile often // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

hobbies and talents

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

relationships

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i had a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

aesthetic

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colors // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season

miscellaneous

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least one dog // i have a cat (lol even 16)

tagging some friendos: @bakedcrispss @pastanest @twdeadfanfic @walkerwords @leatherduncan @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather

#get to know the writer #get to know me #get to know the person behind the blog #ask box #send me asks

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walkerwords · 3 years

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"For The Love of a Daughter" Part 2 - Negan & Daughter!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: IMDB/AMC

PART 1 PART 3

Summary: After the events in the clearing, Negan ponders what to do about you, and back at Hilltop, questions are asked and decisions are made.

Word Count: 3581

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood,

Song I Wrote To: "You Don't Even Know Me" by Faouzia

Note: Well, here ya go! I don't know how many parts of this I will make, but I'll let ya know! SPOILERS FOR HERE'S NEGAN IN SEASON 10 AND SEASON 7

-------

In a sunlit room at the Sanctuary, Negan struggled to control his thoughts.

“You’re pacing,” Frankie said as she lounged on the leather sofa, her red hair shining the afternoon sun.

“I’m angry,” Negan answered.

“No, really?” Frankie mocked.

Negan glared at her as his anger increased. Seeing his daughter again should have been a call for celebration but all he felt was rage. You were not just alive but with the enemy and seeing the way you were clinging to that archer had nearly made him sick. A false family had taken you in and Negan was willing to do anything to get you back.

“Why are you here, again?” Negan asked, turning to look at his wife.

“Boredom,” Frankie said with a shrug. Negan had always liked the redhead. Not just because she was beautiful but a lot like Sherry, she was never afraid to call him out on his shit. It was oddly comforting but he was not in the mood right now.

“My kid is with those assholes,” Negan continued as he began pacing again.

“Sounds to me like she wants to be there,” Frankie said.

“Cause you’re such an expert,” he snapped back. Simon hadn’t wasted a second in filling in the Saviors on what had transpired in the clearing. Frankie was just glad that more blood hadn’t been shed. However, she was also smart enough to know a threat when she hears it. Negan may have only killed one of them but it never just stops after one death. With a sigh, Frankie got up from the couch and walked to him.

“Negan,” she began, “listen to me for once.” He looked down at her with a scowl but waited. “Think about this for more than a day before you go and kidnap your daughter from the only family she’s had since the two of you got separated.”

“She’s my kid,” Negan argued.

“She’s also an adult,” Frankie countered. “One that has survived all this time and from what Simon and Dwight said, she has her father’s fire. You just killed someone close to her, Negan. Don’t think any of this is going to be as simple as grabbing her and locking her up here. You’re smarter than that.” Negan looked at her for another minute before he sighed.

“I hate you,” he said.

“No, you don’t,” Frankie said, placing a hand on his chest.

“No, but I should because I hate when you’re right,” he said. Frankie tilted her head as she looked up at him.

“I am and I get what you’re feeling, but think it through, okay?” Negan just hummed in response. Figuring that was as good as response as she was going to get, Frankie leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning and walking from the room. Negan watched her go and as soon as the door shut behind her, he ran a hand over his face.

“Fuck.”

---------

Everyone was yelling but nobody was talking to each other.

You sat between Rick and Michonne as Daryl shrugged off Aaron’s help for patching up his shoulder. Rosita was with Eugene in the corner and you didn’t know where Sasha had gone off to. Most likely with Maggie and Glenn as the doctor checked on mom and baby.

Once your father had released you, you and your family had caravanned to Hilltop with Abraham’s body. Gregory hadn’t been happy to see you, but Jesus had shut him down quickly and after one look at your face, Jesus had pulled you and yours into an empty room in Barrington House to figure things out.

Everything you thought you knew about what lay in your future was gone and twisted. The knowledge that your father was alive was something you had always wanted. However now, just thinking of the man who had dragged you into that RV with a baseball bat covered in your friend’s brains...it was too much to handle.

It wasn’t until the noise around you began to become more focused on you that the guilt began to sink in. Accusations and shouts of betrayal echoed around you and it made you feel even worse. In the chaos, a single voice rose above the rest.

“Stop!” Daryl’s voice cut in, silencing the room in an instant.

“Daryl,” Rosita cautioned but he wasn’t hearing it.

“She didn’t know,” he argued. Not able to sit still anymore, you got up from in between Rick and Michonne and began pacing, trying to form coherent thoughts. Carl watched you, the rage still simmering in his veins.

“Bullshit,” a new voice came as Sasha stood in the open doorway.

“Sasha,” Daryl warned. You couldn’t look at her. You could barely look at any of them. Abraham was dead, Daryl was hurt, Michonne too, Rosita and Sasha had watched the man they cared about bludgeoned to death, and it was all at the hands of the man who raised you.

“People don’t change that much, Daryl,” Sasha argued. “She should have known something!” When Daryl went to interrupt, you finally spoke up.

“Daryl, don’t,” you said, shaking your head. “Sasha’s right, I should have figured it out sooner.”

“It’s not一”

“My fault, I know,” you finished for him. “But isn’t it? Abe is dead and if I had just followed that feeling in my gut, my suspicions, I could have stopped it. I could have warned you or hell, I could have gone to him sooner and made him understand. He’s...he’s a lot of things but unreasonable isn’t one of them. I could have done something.”

“Tell me about him,” Rick interjected.

“What do you want to know?” you asked. “What else is there to know? He’s my father, he’s apparently a fucking killer now, and he named his damn weapon after my dead mother.” That was the worst, knowing that baseball bat was named after Lucille. Your mother was not a docile woman in any way, she was strong and gave no shit to anyone. However, you just knew she would be appalled by this act of personification.

“Just...anything,” Rick said. You paused for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts, thinking back to the man you once knew and not the leather-clad monster.

“My father was a good man when I was growing up,” you began. “He wasn’t perfect obviously, but he had his moments. My parents were annoyingly perfect for each other and when they had me it was like everything was finally working out the way it was supposed to. My mother, Lucille, tried to hide things from me about him that were less than desirable, but when you’re an only child, you tend to pick up on a few things.

“He cheated on her a few times and he was always starting fights with people he worked with. It was only after she got cancer, he began to be a good husband again. Negan was a gym coach if you could believe it. That was another fucking clue,” you nearly growled. “The fucking mascot for the school he taught at was the Saviors. God, maybe I was just in denial the entire time. The only good thing about him that was always constant was this protective nature he has over kids. If anything, know he won’t hurt any child.”

“Doesn’t exactly make up for anything,” Michonne said.

“No, I know it doesn’t,” you said, pushing a hand through your hair. “My father wasn’t a Saint, but he was never like this,” you said.

“What the hell happened?” Aaron asked.

“Mom died,” you said. “It’s the only reason I can think of. Mom died and then I was gone, he thought I was dead so he went off the rails. But all that was his fault! He left us…” you trailed off trying to stay calm but it was becoming more and more difficult. It was as if all the memories in your head were trying to create different jigsaw puzzles all at once and they were making different images with each interlocking piece.

“His wife died and he did this?” Jesus asked.

“I can’t explain it,” you said, shaking your head. “I haven’t seen him since he left to go looking for the meds. Before that, he was...different. Hell, he nearly put on a full suit of armor just to kill one Walker. He jumped when we heard the groans of the Dead. It’s as if something broke inside of him.” Turning to look at Rosita and Sasha, you pleaded with them, “Trust me, if I had known…”

“I know,” Rosita said as she leaned into Eugene.

“What do we do?” Carl asked, his hands fidgeting with the hat in his hands.

“We kill him,” Sasha said.

“Sasha…” Aaron said.

“He killed Abraham,” she snapped. “He needs to die! I don’t give a shit who his kid is.” It was quiet then as the truth sunk in. You knew that this would happen. You had warned Negan that Rick would not stop until he was hunted down. You probably should have mentioned that Rick wasn’t the only killer in the group.

“She’s right,” Michonne said. “Negan is a problem.” While you understood where your family was coming from, you couldn’t listen to it anymore. Without saying a word, you left the room in search of fresh air. As you passed Gregory in the hallway he looked you over with interest and your hand slid to the knife on your hip.

“Try it,” you warned him and he rolled his eyes before slipping back into his office. Exiting Barrington House, you headed for the side of the community and leaned against the metal wall, trying to keep it together.

The way your father had looked at you in the darkness of the RV had reminded you of the nightmares that plagued you as a child. Before you had settled at Alexandria, you would have dreams of your father coming to you, only in these nightmares, he was a Walker. Yet, the reunion you so desperately craved had been accompanied by the thick scent of blood and the tyrant who now wore your father’s face.

You knew Sasha was right, he needed to be stopped. However, thinking about it, could you actually kill your father? Could you stand by and watch Rick do it? You thought you had become used to the uncertainty the new world offered, but this had ripped away everything you thought you knew.

“(Y/N),” Glenn said as he approached you.

“I don’t want to talk,” you said, defiantly.

“I figured,” he said, leaning against the wall next to you. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“You should be with Maggie,” you said.

“She’s sleeping, Carl went to go be with her,” he said.

“And you came to check on me,” you said.

“We’re worried about you,” he said. “Daryl may have mentioned you’re feeling guilty about Abraham.”

“Wouldn’t you?” you asked. “If it was your father who murdered one of your friends?”

“I don’t know, my dad was a pacifist,” Glenn said casually.

“Stop trying to make me feel better, Glenn,” you said. “I am trying to wallow.”

“I know,” he said. “Sasha is on a warpath.”

“Going after him like this is only going to cause more death. Fuck, I should just leave,” you said.

“That may cause more issues, kid,” Glenn said. “He could accuse us of doing something to you, driving you away, anything.” You knew he was right. No matter the truth, your father would put the blame on Alexandria and Hilltop. It would be a bloodbath over miscommunication.

“Maybe I should just go to him, then,” you said. “Show up on his doorstep and plead for him to leave you all alone.”

“That is the worst idea you’ve had,” Glenn said.

“You haven’t known me long enough,” you pointed out. “Besides what else is there, Glenn?” You looked out over Hilltop as memories came back and one, in particular, stood out.

The first time you had killed a Walker. The day you saved your father’s life.

-------

Years Ago...

“Ha! Got it!”

Scowling, you looked up at your mother as she danced in her seat. “I don’t think that’s part of the rules, Ma,” you said with a frown.

“Says who?” Lucille asked, waving a stack of colorful money in your face.

“The rule book?” you offered.

“Honey, those rules are meant for losers. This,” she gestured between the two of you, “is a family of winners. We make our own rules.”

“I don’t think that logic applies to game boards,” you said, reaching for the dice.

“Just like your father,” Lucille said with a teasing look. “Always a stickler for the guidelines.”

“Since when does Dad follow the rules?” you asked with a small smile.

“You have a point,” Lucille said and then something hit your nose. Looking up in shock, you saw that your mom was casually holding a handful of sunflower seeds.

“That’s playing dirty!” you exclaimed

“What is?” Lucille asked with an air of innocence. Grabbing your own packet of seeds, you readied for return fire when the unmistakable sound of boots on stairs turned your attention.

“I’m calling a ceasefire!” you said as you scrambled off the bed as your father entered the basement. His leather jacket was snug across his shoulders as he placed his bag down and turned to you with a smile.

“There she is!” Negan exclaimed as you barrelled into him. Negan’s arms came around you and hugged you tight, lifting you up into his arms. Placing you back down, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “How are my girls?” he asked as he moved past you to kiss his wife.

“I’m kickin’ her ass, babe,” Lucille proudly exclaimed as you climbed back onto the bed, your scowl returning. Negan examined the board for a second before looking at you and sending you a quick wink.

“I don’t know,” he said, “I think she’s winning.”

“Wow, so supportive,” Lucille deadpanned while you smugly smiled. Negan then dug into his pocket and produced something in his palm, offering it to you.

“Got ya something, Darlin’,” he said. In his hand was a leather chord, double-braided, and attached to it was a small gold charm. The charm was in the shape of the planet, Saturn. You carefully took it and then with quick fingers, Negan looped it around your wrist. “I know it’s not Mars, but you said Saturn was your second favourite.”

“It’s definitely my first favourite now,” you said softly, looking up at him. “Thanks, Dad.” He smiled at you again before turning back to shuck off his jacket and boots to settle in for the night.

This was how it always went. Negan went out in hopes of finding Lucille more medicine, more clothes, or just anything that you and your parents could use to survive after the Turn. With your mother still pretty sick, it was on you to look after her when Negan went on runs. You knew he never went too far, but it was always stressful waiting for him to come home.

It was later on in the evening that you began to put dinner together. It was just canned soup, but it was better than nothing and Lucille couldn’t stomach much so you and Negan were the ones to eat most of it anyways. Standing by the hot plate, you listened to your parents as Negan read to Lucille. Listening to his deep voice was comforting but it was soon drowned out by the shuffling of feet above. The basement was secure but it wasn’t completely shut off from the outside. Sounds, smells, and the essence of the Living still echoed out into the world which in turn, called the Dead.

The Dead showed themselves at times and they usually wandered off, but then there were times like these where they remained insistent. This particular pair of Dead had been there for a while now and it was starting to get to you. Logically, you knew they couldn’t get in, but nothing ever made your skin crawl more than imagining the flesh-eaters outside your childhood home. Sensing your discomfort, Lucille placed her hand on her husband’s arm.

“Honey…” she said with a glance in your direction. Negan nodded, closed the book, and reached for his boots.

“I know, I know,” he said as he got up to grab his jacket.

“Dad, no,” you said. “Just leave them, they’ll get bored and wander off like they always do.”

“Or they’ll bring more and cause more issues,” he said, picking up a knife and a hammer. “Don’t worry, Darlin’, I’ll be gone less than a minute.”

Without anything else, he jogged up the steps and into the main house. Lucille sighed, settling further into her seat. You tried to go back to the soup, but your attention kept going back to outside. You could still hear the Dead and then there was a loud scuffle and you heard your father swear.

“Fuck!” Negan yelled. Without looking at your mother, you ran for the stairs.

“(Y/N)! No!” Lucille yelled after you but you kept running. You didn’t stop until you were out in the warm night. Freezing in your steps, you saw your worst nightmare, your father was on the ground, his weapons away from him and two Dead were on top of him as he struggled. Looking around, you grabbed the first thing you could find, an old shovel.

Running up to the trio, you swung as hard as you could at the first one, knocking it off your father. Its head broke under the carbon steel and in a mirrored action, you swung at the other. The edge of the shovel got stuck in the rotting skull but your father used his momentum of getting up to pull it off.

Dropping the shovel, you tried to keep your breathing under control but you were shaking. “Are you...are you…” you tried to say

“Hey, hey, hey we’re okay, I’m okay,” Negan said, showing you his arms and neck. “No bites, no scratches, all good, baby girl. You saved me,” he said, grabbing your face. Forcing yourself to look at him, you nodded, still, in shock, you had killed someone. No, not someone, something. The Dead were no longer human. “Inside, come on,” he said as he dragged you back into the house.

By the time you got back to the basement, Lucille was pacing, dragging her IV pole behind her. “What happened?” she asked, reaching for you. You folded into your mother’s arms, desperate to feel her comfort.

“Our daughter just saved my life,” Negan said, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “Our girl is gonna be just fine, my love. Just fine,” he whispered as both your parents clung to you. That night was one of the last times you were scared of the Dead because if it meant that you could protect your parents, you would not give in to the terrors of the Turn.

--------

Now

Your thumb and forefinger rubbed at the Saturn charm on your wrist, the gold was chipped from years of fighting, but it never left you. Coming back into yourself, you realized that Glenn was no longer next to you, but Rick was.

“Where’d you go?” he asked but you just shook your head. Rick could ask you all he wanted about what you knew about your father’s temper or how he reacted in certain situations, but there were some memories that had to remain sacred.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do,” you admitted.

“Don’t even think about going to him,” he warned. His tone reminded you of something paternal and it made you think of what Negan had said to you in the RV.

Rick your new daddy? Got yourself a whole new family, then?

His voice was a clear as day and it was almost too much. “Why not?” you asked Rick, looking at him.

“You know why,” he said, his hands resting on his hips.

“I never felt like I belonged here anyway, Rick. Aaron took me in and then I just couldn’t...adapt.”

“You’re our family,” he argued.

“So is he,” you said. “You’re my chosen family, but Negan is blood. I can’t escape that.”

“That don’t mean you have to give in to him. You always told me how angry you were at your father for leaving you.”

“He’s not gonna stop until he has me again,” you said. “My father is...patient.”

“So, what are you gonna do?” he asked, realizing a plan had started behind your eyes. Without answering him, you reached around to the small of your back and revealed something you had taken from the RV before Negan had brought you back. “Is that one of their radios?” Rick asked, looking at the black device in your hands. Nodding, you stared at it before taking a deep breath and turning the knob.

Static filled the silence before you finally pressed the talk button. “Negan,” you spoke into the radio. One word was all it took for a response.

“You always did have a love for the dramatics, kid,” Negan’s voice crackled along the frequency. Looking at Rick, he gave you an encouraging nod.

“I think it’s time we spoke without screaming,” you said, “Dad.”

Tags: : @please-help-this-little-lesbian @thanossexual @agent-laufeyson @felicisimor @lucillethings @huffledor-able541

#walker words #twd #the walking dead #negan imagines #negan #the walking dead x reader #walkerwords #negan x daughter reader

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walkerwords · 3 years

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"Share Your Burden" Daryl Dixon & Daughter!Reader

Request From Anonymous: "Your writing is the best! You probably have a lot of requests, but if you wouldn't mind I'd like to request some more dad Daryl fics where he basically adopts the reader. Those are just always so good. Not sure I have a specific story in mind, just more dad Daryl and Daughter reader in general please. You're the best! 💖"

Summary: The reader is like a daughter to Daryl. When she sees him taken by the saviors, she will get him back and keep him safe even if it means losing some of her humanity.

Word Count: 4933

Warning: Violence, Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Carry You" by Fleurie and Ruelle

Note: Figured considering our show is coming back this month, I should get some stories in, huh? There are parts in this that are lightly inspired by Ellie in TLOU2.

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It had taken every ounce of strength not to move as you watched the man known as Negan brutally murder two members of your family.

Abraham’s blood was ingrained into your mind and Maggie’s screams echoed through your skull like bats in a cave. You wanted to scream, cry, and launch yourself at your new enemy to save those who you loved but you remained in the shadows of the tree you had climbed and waited. The group known as the Saviors milled around the clearing as Negan hauled your leader into the RV and drove off.

From your vantage point, you could see Daryl fading as he stared at the bodies of his brothers. Blood was dripping down his arm from the gunshot wound he had sustained from the blonde man above him. Looking at the way the sneering man held Daryl’s bow made you so angry it was hard not to drop down and plunge a blade into his pale neck.

Carl was with Michonne, trying not to look anywhere but the enemies that surrounded them. Carl was your age and he was also the person who you trusted the most to keep it together in situations such as this. You pulled your strength from your friend’s resolve and continued to wait.

Maggie was getting worse and that was why you had ventured out of Alexandria in the first place. Spencer had spotted you heading for the gate when he had tried to stop you. Ignoring him as always, you pushed past him and began the trek to Hilltop. It was on that journey that you came across the first roadblock and so you followed it.

You had never imagined that it would have led to the gruesome scene below you. Your knuckles strained around the handles of your knives, a pair that Daryl had given to you himself when you had settled at the prison. It was only after Terminus that he began to properly train you to use them. Right then, they had never felt more useless.

Daryl was your protector and he was the closest thing you had to a father. He had found you running from Walkers when the group was settled on the Greene farm. You had been alone for weeks and from then on, it was the two of you.

Daryl had been the one to protect you from Shane’s scrutiny, the piercing gaze of the Governor, and the cannibals of Terminus. In turn, you became his shadow, having his back wherever he went, always ready to defend him while also learning everything you could. Now, you felt as powerless as he looked. It had been a long while since the group had been this broken-looking.

It was heartbreaking.

It wasn’t long before Negan returned with Rick and after almost making your leader cut his own son’s hand off. Negan ordered his men to leave not without making demands of your family and hauling Daryl along with him.

Staring after the caravan of murderers, you weighed what you were going to do next. A weight was heavy in your pack’s front packet and while you knew it was risky, a plan began to form. One that would either get you or Daryl killed or perhaps even both. Still, you had to try.

Dropping to the forest floor, you took one last look at your people through the trees before taking off in the opposite direction and towards the main road, pushing your legs as fast as they would go.

“Hold on, Daryl,” you whispered in between haggard breaths, “I’ll be there soon."

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Daryl was in the back of the truck trying not to grimace every time the vehicle rolled over an uneven section of road.

Everything hurt and nothing felt right. He felt sick and above everything, he felt guilty.

The shock was still coursing through his veins as he heard Negan laughing in the cab upfront but he tried to tune it out as he thought of Glenn. It was instinct to go after Negan. Daryl hadn’t even thought about the repercussions that might happen as he got to his feet and charged the larger man.

It hadn’t occurred to Daryl to take a breath and think about what would happen next. They had never faced a menace like Negan before. Daryl thought he had seen the last of the bloodshed when they had escaped Terminus. At least, escaped the violence for a while before it caught back up to them again.

It wasn’t long till Daryl’s pain began to increase as the adrenaline wore off. Dwight was sitting across from him, holding his crossbow and Daryl wanted to strangle the man.

He had helped Dwight with Sherry and Tina. He had tried to keep Tina alive when he returned the insulin. Daryl couldn’t help but be enraged while looking at him, but he understood the betrayal in a way. He knew what people became in the new world and according to Dwight, Negan was the lesser evil of trying to survive on his own.

Daryl then only wondered what happened to Sherry.

They were going down another road as Daryl leaned to the left as the truck turned sharply. He blinked away the sudden twinge in his shoulder and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning in discomfort. He wouldn’t give these bastards the satisfaction.

Suddenly, from the front of the cab, Negan shouted, causing Dwight to jump in his seat. “Shit!” Negan swore and then there was a flash of light, a loud bang, and then they were airborne. Daryl had barely a second to brace his hands on the roof of the truck before it slammed into the road, the metal exterior shredding sparks along the neglected asphalt.

Smoke and dust filled the air as Daryl tried to get his bearings. He could hear the muffled shouts of Negan and his men followed by a few gunshots but his ears were still ringing.

Across from him, Dwight was groaning in pain as blood dripped from his brow. His hands had let go of the bow and in a sudden surge of energy, Daryl dove for his loaded weapon.

Clutching his hands around the crossbow, Daryl scrambled for the back door, trying to get to his feet. A hand then circled around his ankle as Dwight realized what was happening. Turning around, Daryl blindly fired a bolt and it struck Dwight in the shoulder, mirroring Daryl’s own wound for good measure.

Dwight went down in pain and Daryl continued to move. As he fumbled for the door that was hanging half open due to the crash, he could hear yells of pain out in the warm air followed by the sound of someone choking as if they were drowning. Even half-aware of what was going on, Daryl could recognize the sound of someone choking on their own blood.

Daryl slammed his good shoulder against the broken door with a frustrated yell and finally felt the sun on his face. “Don’t kill her!” Daryl heard Negan scream. “Jesus fucking Christ, Arat!” Daryl tried to get back on his feet but everything was too bright and he was still trying to figure out what had happened and who Negan was talking about.

It wasn’t until he felt a hand around his arm that he seemed to snap back into his body. Aware that he hadn’t reloaded a new bolt into his bow, he swung his arm, trying to clip his assailant in the head with the bow. “Fuck! Daryl!” a familiar voice exclaimed to his right. The arm around him tightened as Daryl’s eyes finally focused on the person at his side.

“(Y/N)?” he breathed as he took in your face that was covered in blood and a wild look echoed from your eyes.

“We have to move,” you said earnestly. “Now!” Not questioning your demands, Daryl nodded and allowed you to take his bow as you grabbed for it. Slinging the bow onto your back, you grabbed the lighter Daryl had given you and he watched as you took a breath, no doubt sending some kind of prayer to the universe before you threw it into a pool of gasoline, igniting it and sending Saviors diving for cover.

Bullets flew by you as you hauled Daryl to the woods. “Don’t fucking shoot her! She’s a goddamn kid!” Negan screamed at his men.

Daryl leaned heavily on you as you dragged him towards the treeline. He didn’t hear much of what you said after that as his feet blindly followed you. “Negan,” Daryl choked out, trying to get you to understand.

“Leave him,” you said, trying to carry both of your weights. “Come on, Daryl, I can’t carry us both,” you pleaded, trying to get his mind to catch up with his body. It took another minute or so before the ringing subsided in his ears and the world got back into focus. Taking a few deep breaths, he got back into his normal gait and began speeding up his steps as he followed you through the woods.

You kept the crossbow on your back but he was soon able to walk on his own. “What did ya do?” Daryl asked as you stumbled down an embankment and carefully crossed a stream.

“What I had to to get you away from them,” you said as you helped him over the slippery rocks. “We can talk about this later. Right now, I need you to keep moving. There’s a town just through these trees, we can hide there for the night.”

“They’ll find us, (Y/N),” Daryl said as he pressed his hand against the bullet wound that was bleeding again. You looked at him, your eyes still wide from the fight.

“Then I’ll handle it,” you said. “It's my turn to keep you safe.”

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The heat was horrid by the time you and Daryl arrived in the abandoned town.

Even with Daryl still in pain, you made the two of you circle back three times in order to cover your tracks. However, eventually, you knew he couldn’t take more before he finally keeled over. Keeping the crossbow loaded, you moved silently through the back alleys of the small town, looking for both Saviors and Walkers alike.

After the quarry horde had been redirected, the larger groups of the dead had been far and few between but that didn’t mean Walkers were gone altogether. Silently, you took down four Walkers before you found the destination you had in mind.

The old town library was something you and Sasha had found when you had accompanied her on a hunt one day. The latches on the doors still worked and it had enough blindspots inside to hide from the Living and the Dead.

You stood watch as Daryl wrestled with the doors. The Southern heat warped the frames a bit but eventually, Daryl was able to push one open and slip inside. You followed quickly and shut it behind you. Placing down the bow, you shoved a fallen bookcase in front of the double doors before collapsing against it for a second.

“Okay, this should hold,” you said with another breath. Daryl was swaying on his feet when you looked back at him. “Come on,” you said, picking up the bow and leading him into the main area of the library.

For such a small town, the library was a decent size. You figured that it was probably the main community hub for the neighborhood. It made its untouched books and abandoned keycards that much more sorrowful. Depositing Daryl on one of the lumpy couches, you grabbed your flashlight from your pack and clicked it on.

“I’m going to go make sure there’s no Dead in here,” you said. “Stay here and I’ll be back to take a look at that shoulder.”

“(Y/N),” Daryl said, grabbing your hand before you could move.

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. Daryl seemed to be wary but he was also exhausted so he relented and let go. You gave him your canteen, ordered him to drink, and then you began your search.

The dried blood on your skin was driving you crazy as it itched with every second. When you had set out after the Saviors, clutching the grenade you had stolen from Spencer’s stash a few days before, it hadn’t occurred to you that there would be a before and an after.

Before you managed to get to Daryl and after you got him.

Now, it was all about survival. You knew what you had done. Negan was pissed and if you knew anything about his temper solely based on the clearing, then you knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

You feared for your family back in Alexandria. If he wanted to, Negan could go and terrorize your family, perhaps kill more of them. None of that had been on your mind when you began your rescue operation. You weren’t thinking about anyone but Daryl. You had to save him and you were willing to risk your life. Though, now, you realized it wasn’t just your life you were risking.

Shaking the thoughts out of your mind, you finished your rounds through the two stories of the library. You were surprised to only find two Walkers who were less than “alive”. Both were barely hanging on and you figured one of them had been the librarian at some point. You took them both out to end their suffering and then headed back to Daryl.

Daryl was still awake when you joined him on the couch and helped him out of his shirt. The gunshot wound was getting worse and you could tell he was trying to put on a brave face for you. “You don’t have to do that, you know?” you said as you dug through your bag for the alcohol and bandages you always had with you.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Act as if nothing is hurting,” you said, pouring some of the alcohol on a rag. Not giving him a warning, you pressed it against his shoulder and Daryl swore as it burned the wound. “See,” you said with a smirk.

“Ya shouldn’t have done it,” Daryl said after a second.

“If I hadn’t, then you would be dead or worse,” you said. “I wasn’t going to let Negan take anyone else from me. Not after Glenn and Abraham.”

“You saw,” Daryl said and it wasn’t a question. You began cleaning the excess blood off before finding your suturing kit.

“I was in a tree,” you whispered, threading the needle, suddenly very grateful for the lessons Herschel had given you. “I thought he was going to kill you.”

“Maybe he should have,” Daryl said and your hands froze. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you could see the emotions that were raging in him.

“Daryl…”

“He said not to move, kid,” Daryl said. “I lost it after he killed Abraham. If I hadn’t… Glenn would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that. We slaughtered that outpost, hell, I’m surprised he didn’t take more people out. I know you and the others think I’m just some kid but I notice more than you think and I have learned to read people. Negan is… I don’t think he’s some kind of deranged maniac but he’s ruthless and he’s not going to stop until he feels as if he has all the power again. At least I can see that he’s not willing to kill kids. Guess that means Carl and I are gonna be on the front lines this time,” you finished with an attempt at humor.

“Not funny,” he said.

“Daryl, you and I both know that this isn’t going to end without a fight.”

“You ain’t fighting,” Daryl said sternly. You ignored him and began stitching up his wound, careful not to pull too much.

“Considering the way Rick was looking at Negan before I left, it doesn’t look like he had much fight left in him. Someone has to do it.”

“Rick has a lot of pressure on his shoulders,” Daryl defended but you just shook your head.

“I watched him tear a man’s throat out with his teeth, Daryl,” you said. “This was different. I warned you about his pride and how it was going to be his downfall. He just needs to be reminded of the leader he is.”

“Since when are ya so mature?”

“Since I watched the people I love get killed again and again,” you said as you tied off the last stitch.

“You blame Rick,” Daryl said.

“I blame all of us,” you said, picking up the clean bandages. “We believed that moron at Hilltop… We never should have gone after the Satellite Station, Daryl. We keep doing this, getting involved in fights that aren’t ours.”

“We have to help people,” Daryl said. “It’s what we do.”

“Why? Why do we have to? Why is it our responsibility? Why can’t we just survive like everyone else?”

“Someone has to be the good guys,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he believed it.

“I’m sick of being them,” you admitted, finally sitting back.

“Ya really mean that?” Daryl asked as he shrugged his shirt back onto his shoulder. You sat there for a minute before sighing.

“No,” you whispered. “I’m just sick of the death.”

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Daryl was asleep finally and you became the sole protector.

It was odd, the role reversal. So many times you had been the one hurt and cowering as Daryl protected you. Now, after seeing all the horrors you had since Terminus, your skin was stronger than stone. It was going to take a lot more than a bastard with a bat to break you.

You could hear Daryl’s soft snore from the lounge as you scanned the darkness. You stayed there, watching until the soft rumbles of a truck echoed through the night. Ducking down, you watched as a pickup truck drove slowly through the town, a spotlight scanning the empty storefronts.

"Fuck," you whispered. Glancing at the bow by your side, you made a quick decision as the truck came to a stop and three men, Saviors, jumped out.

Sneaking back towards Daryl, you left his bow, loaded, by his side. Taking one last look at him, you slipped your jacket over your shoulders and headed to the second floor. An open window welcomed you near the back exit. Being an avid climber it was easy to maneuver out onto the slanted roof and grab onto the drainage pipe to take you to the ground.

Muffled voices reached your ears as you kept to the shadows. "Spread out, kill the man, take the girl," a man said, a voice you didn't recognize.

"That girl nearly killed Negan," another said.

"We are Negan," the third said. "And we do what he orders. Saviors don't kill kids. Find her." While it was a bold statement, you knew it was false. Hilltop had said, a boy was murdered. None of that fit.

Trying not to overanalyze anything, you focused on the task at hand. Picking up a large rock, you threw it as far as you could. The sound of breaking glass shattered the air and a set of boots took off in that direction.

As the second man went West, you focused on the solo scout who headed towards the abandoned police station. As you got closer, groans reached your ears. Spotting the Walker first, you snuck up behind it and slit its throat with a single slice. The gargling of Dead blood and empty lungs perforated your surroundings but it was enough to call attention to the Savior.

"Ugly motherfucker," the Savior said, not yet spotting you as you stood behind it. As the Savior drew his blade to silently end the creature, you shoved the Walker forward onto the man.

Stunned by the sudden momentum, he cried out as the Walker bit into the face before it. The Savior’s scream was cut off short as the Walker found its next meal. As soon as the damage was done, you finished off both, making sure to stifle the sounds that would pull your other two targets closer. Dragging both bodies out of sight, you slipped back into the shadows.

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Moving West, you avoided any other Walkers who were wandering.

Not looking to be tracked by the Walker equivalent of breadcrumbs, you made sure to stay hidden for the most part. Finally spotting your next target, you began wishing you had grabbed Carl’s gun with his silencer before you had followed after the caravan. Only armed with knives now, you had to make do.

The Savior was looking through a desolate pet shop as you snuck in through a broken window, careful not to make too much noise with the shattered glass.

Picking up a tennis ball that had been neglected, you rolled it towards the aisle the Savior was looking in. Just like a curious golden retriever, the man followed the little ball right into your path. He barely had time to shout a warning before your knife was embedded into his carotid.

His eyes were wide as blood poured onto your hand. Keeping your nerve, you twisted the knife and fully severed the artery. The man fell to his knees as you pulled the blade free. Clutching his throat, he tried to speak but no sound came. “You’re not going to find him,” you whispered as he fell back and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Quickly, you shoved your blade into his brain before grabbing his weapon. It wasn’t silenced but it would have to do if it came down to a firefight. Turning back towards the main street, you ran from the store in hopes of catching the final Savior before he sounded the alarm.

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The truck was still there but its driver was nowhere to be seen.

Noticing the keys were still in the ignition, you rolled your eyes. Pocketing them, you waited in the cab, hoping the final man would return soon.

Fatigue was starting to set in as you waited and you began to think of when the last time you slept was. Before the turn, you had imagined your teen years to be full of parties and late nights studying for tests in high school. You did not envision you would be waiting in the dark of a truck, ready to get more blood on your hands.

Unlike Carl, it hadn’t been at the prison when you first killed someone. It had been before you had even met Daryl. Before you wandered onto the Greene farm and Daryl and Carol had found you, you had been traveling with your aunt and uncle when bandits had attacked you and killed both before turning their sights on you. Not knowing how to use a gun, only ever seeing your uncle use it and of course, in films, you blindly fired and killed one and then the other. The third, who was just a teenager, had runoff.

After that, you felt ashamed at how you didn’t feel bad about doing it. Shane had explained that it was okay because you did it out of self-defense and Daryl and Maggie had agreed.

Now, as fresh blood joined the flaking blood on your hands, you tried to rationalize that what you were doing now was in defense of another. If the Saviors got Daryl back or killed him, you would not have been able to handle it.

“Focus,” you whispered to yourself. “Handle this and get back to Daryl. He needs you.”

It didn’t take long for the man to return. The man was speaking into his radio and it had never occurred to you to take the other walkies off the other bodies. However, now you knew you weren’t leaving without this one. If Rick wanted to fight and you were hoping that he was, then having a Savior’s radio, attuned to Negan’s base of operations would be a great start to gather intel.

Angling yourself in the front seat, you waited for him to open the door. Steadying your hand, you took a deep breath in, leveled the stolen gun, and just as the driver’s side door pulled open and the overhead light clicked on, you fired one bullet, hitting the man in the head.

Surprised by your own accuracy, you shuffled out of the cab, grabbed the radio, and shoved the body underneath the car. You waited then, for either more Walkers or the cavalry but when none came, you ran back to the library, hoping the shot didn’t wake Daryl. You weren’t in the mood for a lecture.

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“Are ya really that reckless?” Daryl said as soon as you snuck back into the library.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you said, nonchalantly.

“Bullshit, I can practically smell all the blood on you,” he said, folding his arms. His bow was still by his side and after the small amount of rest, he was clearly not in the mood for your aloofness.

“I told you I would protect you,” you said as you moved to your pack and grabbed the discarded canteen, and poured some water on your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the sick smell of iron. "Now, we need to figure out what to do," you said.

"We need to get home," he argued.

"We're going to Hilltop," you said. "They'll be looking for you at Alexandria and you know it."

"Both of us," he pointed out with a slight glare.

"Negan doesn't scare me," you said to him.

"He should."

"We've seen worse," you countered.

"You're too young for all this shit," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"So you've said before," you reminded him.

"(Y/N)..."

"If you're about to say that I need to distance myself from you. You'd be a moron. I'm not leaving you. If you don’t like it, any of it, then you never should have taught me to fight.”

“That’s right, I taught you to fight, not to kill,” he argued. Throwing the water bottle down, you turned on him.

“What is this about? I’ve seen you kill people. I’ve seen you do worse than taking a few people out to protect someone in our family. What is actually going on here and don’t say that it’s because you’re feeling guilty. It's more than that.”

“Ever think I don’t like seeing you like this," he gestured to your bloody clothes. "Do ya think I want ya to become someone like Negan? Ya act like taking a life ain’t that big of a deal!”

“Will you stop shouting,” you hissed, moving closer to him. “Daryl, I did what I had to. I am so sorry that you think you are the only one who is allowed to cross lines to protect us. I think you forget all the times we have had to save you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you getting mad at me for saving your life. Do you not realize how much you mean to me? I lost my parents before the turn and then my aunt and uncle and I had nobody. Nobody until you found me in that field. You are the closest thing I have to a father, Daryl and I don’t care what I have to do to make sure I don't lose another parent. I can’t handle it, okay? Please, just let me protect you for once!"

The emotions were taking you over then and it was hard to control them. “I don’t mean to cry and all that,” you said, sniffing back the tears, “but you can’t expect me to just sit back and do nothing when people keep trying to take you away from me.”

Daryl’s stern look dissipated then and it made you feel a bit worse. Wiping at the tears on your face, you turned away from him. Soon, you felt his arms around you as he pulled you into his chest just as he had earlier.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, you were just tryin’ to help. Okay, I ain’t mad.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” you said into his chest.

“I just worry about ya,” he said. “Ya know why?” Shaking your head, he tightened his hold. “Cause I see ya as my kid, too and I would do anythin’ to keep ya safe. I guess I gotta accept you’re going to do the same." Stepping back, he wiped the tears off your cheeks. “Just no more sneaking out, alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed. "Daryl, just know you don't have to carry it all. You can share your burden."

"I thought I was the parent here," he said.

"Family works both ways."

"Yes it does," he said.

Then with a bit more of a smile, you produced the keys you had stolen from the car. “I got us a ride cause you're still stuck with me."

"You're so stubborn," he said.

"I got it from you," you said with a gesture to the street. "You're going to have to drive."

"Right, no need to almost die twice in twenty-four hours," he said and you offered him a small smile. Daryl then took your hand in his as he gathered your pack. "I ain't leavin' you. You're stuck with me, too. I got you, kid,” he said. "And thanks for comin’ to get me.” You looked up at him and nodded.

“Always.”

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @agent-laufeyson @lucillethings

#The walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl x daughter!reader #apolloloki97 #walkerwords #negan #twd #daryl dixon imagines #twd imagine #daryl dixon

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walkerwords · 3 years

Text

“To Feel Better” Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

Request from Anonymous: for your requests i saw a prompt where it was person A finding excuses to hold person B's hand such as my hands are cold will you warm them for me I think that would be cute with Daryl.

Word Count: 1859

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift

Note: I love fluff requests yall! This one is set during the time our survivors are looking for shelter after the fall of the farm!

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When the farm fell, nobody knew what they were doing.

Herschel and Rick were doing their best to keep some sort of order within the group, but they could only do so much once the cold set in and the food became more scarce. Then after losing some people during the invasion of Walkers and Shane’s attempt at a coup, pieces felt as if they were being broken off.

Andrea had been someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. You had been with her and her sister, Amy, since the beginning. Andrea had protected you both, but in the end it had been Amy who befell the fate of the new world. Her death still followed you around and you knew that it had haunted her sister for a while as well. If anything, it had made Andrea harder and more resilient. Still, she kept her eyes on you and you knew that if it came down to it, you would protect her with everything you had. That remained true until you saw her go down on the farm and never saw her reemerge from the horde as Daryl pulled you on to the back of his bike and took off down the dirt path.

Now it was only a matter of time before someone else was lost. With the larger herds moving North all the time, the group had to keep moving and there wasn’t any time to rest for more than a couple of days. With Lori being pregnant, it was definitely causing more issues. You were exhausted, Shane was dead, Rick was keeping something a secret, and Carl was growing up before your eyes. It was too much, too fast.

Winter was coming and going, the weather never staying the same in the South. You had been used to that your entire life, but without constant shelter or warm meals, every time the temperature dropped even a fraction, stress levels skyrocketed within the group and it was starting to get to you. Daryl, someone you had grown closer to since the farm, had tried to keep your spirits up the best he could, but there was only so much he could do.

It was late one night when you found yourself alone on watch. Rick and Maggie had found a house that was far enough from the road with working locks and insulated enough to offer warmth. Nobody dared light a fire in case the Living decided to poke around, but it was better than sleeping in another field with one eye open.

You were rubbing a stray bullet between your fingers as you saw on a bench just in front of the house when Daryl approached, the gun that housed said bullet was in your other hand. “I got watch,” he said, taking a seat next to you.

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping your eyes on the dark wall of trees before you.

“Ya need sleep,” he argued, but you remained still.

“I said, I’m fine,” you repeated.

“Ya, that’s what ya always say,” he said. It was silent then as he sat next to you. Daryl knew when not to push you and this was definitely one of those times. If there was one person who could sit in complete silence and say more with just their body language it was you and Daryl appreciated that after hours of constant noise from the rest of the group.

It was after a while that Daryl finally realized what you kept playing with in your hand. He recognized it as a gun that was once shoved in his face when he had first arrived at the quarry with Merle. “That Walsh’s gun?” he asked, nodding his head toward the pistol. You nodded, turning over the weapon in your hand. He wasn’t sure where you had found it, but he could tell that you had cleaned it up. “You thinkin’ about him?”

“I don’t know what happened,” you finally said. “He was so strong…”

“Even the most level-headed people can get corrupted by this world,” Daryl said and you thought it was one of the most profound things he had ever said. Then again, you figured that Daryl was incredibly bright and he just didn’t let people see that side of him.

“I thought he’d be one of the last people standing,” you admitted.

“Didn’t realize you were that close,” Daryl said with a frown.

“He saved my life,” you said with a shrug, remembering back to all the times Shane had pulled a Walker off of you when you were distracted. “He always looked out for Amy, too. Look, he wasn’t a great man, I know that, but I owed him enough. I was hoping he’d make it at least a few more years.”

“I get that,” Daryl said with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. You had noticed that it was getting longer, especially on the sides.

“Sorry,” you said, “I know you hated him.”

“I didn’t trust him,” Daryl clarified.

“Fair enough.”

You sat back into silence then. Your ears were scanning for the familiar groans of the Dead or the subtle footprints of the Living, but so far, nothing had approached the newest nest for the group. You were definitely missing the RV on the more treacherous nights.

Daryl was quiet before he looked over at you. You could see his face out of the corner of your eye, but you tried your hardest to ignore him. You knew Daryl had been looking out for you for a while. Or rather he had been watching you and you knew he was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take any extra steps towards him. No matter how much you wanted it.

“You know,” you began, breaking the silence, “I wanted to study old bones and all that.”

“So, an anthropologist?” Daryl said. You looked over at him with shock on your face and he clocked it immediately. “What, I watched the History Channel,” he defended, causing you to laugh.

“Yeah, Daryl, just like that,” you said. “I wanted to know how humanity began, but I’m only seeing what we’ve become,” you said as you stared at a Walker corpse that Maggie had downed a few hours before.

Your hand began to twitch then, a nervous habit you had developed as a teenager. It always exposed everything that you were too afraid to say. There was something about the way your body always knew what was wrong before your mind did. You figured it was something to do with the survival instincts that had kicked in the night they dropped fire on Atlanta and other major cities.

Daryl noticed your hand instantly. “You’re doing it again,” he said quietly.

“Nervous habit,” you said, clenching your fist, trying to quiet your nerves. “It used to drive my mom crazy.”

“You don’t talk about her anymore,” Daryl noticed. Turning to look at him, you furrowed your brow. “It’s just, ya used to talk about her at the quarry with Amy and Andrea a lot,” he said with a shrug.

“Guess I haven’t been in the mood to be sentimental lately,” you said.

“I get that,” he said as he continued to watch the slight tremor in your palms. “My mom died before all this,” he said and you were surprised to hear him say anything about his family. Besides Merle, Daryl never mentioned anything about his past. At least, not to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I’m just glad ya know, that she didn’t have to see all this shit,” he said and you knew what he was talking about. In an odd way, anyone who had died before the outbreak lucked out. Nobody deserved to see the new horrors of the world and nobody deserved to be fighting tooth and nail just to survive. Lifting your head to the sky, you watched as a single star shot across the darkness before it disappeared again in the plethora of stars and scattered moonlight.

“Odd, isn’t it?” you asked.

“What?”

“That because the world is dark, we finally see the stars. Living in cities always hid them,” you said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Daryl said, following your gaze.

“ ‘Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars’,” you quoted with ease.

“Tolkien, huh?” Daryl said, recognizing the words.

“Look at you,” you teased and Daryl rolled his eyes.

“I read,” Daryl defended and you raised your hands in surrender. The movement then sparked something in Daryl as he caught your hand in his and held it gently. Your hands stilled from the warmth and firm grip of the archer’s hands. You were sitting in silence as he began to rub his thumbs along the nerves and muscles in your hands.

Daryl was silent as he caressed your hand, taking his time to soothe your anxieties away. “You are gonna be okay,” he whispered, his focus on his task.

“How do you know?” you whispered back.

“Because ya ain’t one to let this world beat ya,” Daryl said simply. You took a minute for that to sink in and you knew that he was right. If anything, you were not going to give up so that the dying world took you with it. You knew that death was inevitable, but you also knew that you had come too far already to start to give up now. “Do you know the story of the man who fought off three bears and lived?” Daryl asked suddenly.

Looking over at him, you raised your brows. “What?” Daryl nodded.

“Yeah, the crazy son of a bitch jumped into a bear enclosure at a zoo to test if he could survive the worst possible thing,” he said. “Fought them all off with his hands and a tree branch. Nobody thought a person could do that and he did. Only came out of there with a broken hand.”

“Is there a moral to this story?” you asked. Daryl turned your hand over in his, tracing the lines on your palm.

“Don’t try to fight bears unless you’re high on pretty hardcore shit because he had to have been, right?” Daryl said easily and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your chest. Daryl gave you a smile then and you realized what he was doing.

“Was that story even true?” you asked.

“Nah,” Daryl said. “Does it matter, though?”

“Not at all,” you whispered, wrapping your other hand around the joined ones between you. Moving closer to him, you leaned into him, feeling his body heat. “Thanks.”

Daryl gently lifted your hand to his face and pressed a kiss to the back of it in a very rare act of tenderness. His lips lingered on your skin for just a second before relaxing further into you.

“Anytime,” he murmured as you sank into comfortable silence and watched for the enemy that was sure enough to break through your newfound bubble of peace. However, you knew that when that happened, the man by your side would be the one to jump into the fray and wrestle with a few bears of his own.

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @moonstuffsteve @lucillethings @stark-dreams

#walkerwords #the walking dead #twd imagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon #twd #imagines #daryl x gn reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagine

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walkerwords · 2 years

Note

Is there a character or fandom u think doesnt have enough fics?

i am begging someone, anyone to write cristóbal rios (chris rios) fics from star trek picard before i start and become the monopoly on rios fics

#walkerwords #star trek picard #captain chris rios #chris rios #cristobal rios #santiago cabrera

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walkerwords · 2 years

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I feel like i needed to emerge for this news....YO. As long as Maggie and Negan dont become a couple, I AM ALL FOR THEM TAKING ON NEW YORK TOGETHER

#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd #walker words

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walkerwords · 4 years

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“Hold On” Rick Grimes & Daughter!Reader

GIF CREDIT: http://gph.is/2yDy2U6

Request from @joelsheartache: I'd like to request a Rick x daughter!reader. The reader it shot instead of Olivia, but instead of a head shot it's in her abdomen but the shot is still fatal. Rick tries to stop the blood flow and says things along the lines of "You're gonna be okay, baby girl! You just have to focus on me! No, no, y/n, keep your eyes open!" You can decide if she lives or not! This may not be the best request, but I really liked the idea!

Word Count: 3635

Warning: Major Angst

Song I Wrote To: “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet

Note: Oof this was a request that I was both excited and stressed to write. I hope you like it

------

When you discovered your brother was missing, you knew exactly where he had gone.

You knew Carl wanted to kill Negan and you knew that he had been becoming more reckless since everything had happened at Terminus. Then, when Negan had killed Glenn and Abraham in front of him, Michonne had told you that something had shifted in your younger brother’s eyes.

You hadn’t been there when the Saviors had taken your people and killed your friends, but when they had returned and your father, Rick, came to find you, he hadn’t hesitated to take you in his arms and make sure that you were still there, that you were still alive.

You were his eldest and whenever he wasn’t home, you were the one who wanted to look after your little sister. However, seeing how broken they all looked, a part of you wished you would have been there. Maybe you would have been able to stop Negan or at least stop him from taking Daryl.

Living with Negan’s boot on your necks was horrible. Every day you woke up and you didn’t know what was going to happen. While you were used to that due to the new world, this was a new kind of danger and one your father was determined to keep you and your siblings from.

That is until Carl decided to go all lone-wolf and test your patience.

The next time you saw your brother he was being led back through Alexandria by Negan himself. You were helping Gabriel in the pantry when they had arrived. Rage entered your chest as you saw the murderer walking alongside Carl, but when you saw where they were headed, that was when you nearly ran after them. However, Gabriel had grabbed your arm, shaking his head.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Remember what Rick said. Carl won’t let him hurt her and I don’t believe Negan would harm a child.”

“He threatened to make my dad cut off his own son’s arm, Father,” you spat, staring after them.

“But he didn’t and I don’t know what happened with Carl, but he is still alive and looks unharmed. We have to trust that he will be safe.” You pushed away from him.

“Nobody is safe anymore,” you had told him, “and if he touches a hair on Judith’s head, I’m going to kill him.”

The rule that your dad had given you was simple: don’t let people know you were his daughter. At least, not his enemies’. You looked more like your grandparents than your parents and your Uncle Shane had once said that you could pass for Lori’s sister rather than her daughter which had come in handy at times.

Especially when Gareth hadn’t targeted you when he had attacked the church and so you were able to get a jump on him before your father had brought the machete down.

You kept out of Negan’s way for as long as possible until the moment arrived when Spencer Monroe decided to make an appearance. You never liked Spencer, nobody in your family did. He was proud, arrogant, and he had been stuck in Alexandria for way too long. He was a child trying to be a man and you were done with his high and mighty attitude.

When the moron had invited Negan to drink and play pool out in the street, that was when you had finally approached him and the others. Your brother was standing on the porch next to Olivia when you walked over. His eyes met yours and he shook his head, but you ignored him, planting yourself on the grass below him, crossing your arms.

You watched as Spencer tried to convince Negan to work alongside him instead of your father and you had to keep reminding yourself to stay calm. Rick and Aaron were on their way back. It was only a matter of time before they came home. You knew that was what Negan was waiting for, the opportunity to rub it in your dad’s face that Carl had been returned safely.

As you thought about all the ways you could potentially slit Negan’s throat, a cry of alarm brought you out of your thoughts. Looking up, you saw Spencer hunched over and in Negan’s hand was a blade dripping in blood. He was smiling as Spencer’s guts spilled from his abdomen. Monroe collapsed to the ground as his intestines slipped through his fingers.

Negan went to make some kind of speech when Rosita pulled a gun from the back of her pants. You barely had a second to stop her before she aimed and fired at Negan. You froze, waiting for his body to drop, but the bullet had hit his bat instead.

“Shit! What the shit!” Negan bellowed as Rosita looked at him in utter shock. The next second, one of Negan’s lieutenants slammed Rosita into the pavement, holding her down by her throat. “Shit! You just‒ You tried to kill me!? You shot Lucille!” he screamed. Rosita sneered at him from the ground.

“She got in the way,” she growled. Negan, fuming, turned Lucille to observe the slug that now marred her smooth surface.

“What is this? What is this? This little bad boy made from scratch? Look at those crimps. This was homemade. You may be stupid, darlin', but you showed some real ingenuity here,” Negan spat and then gestured to the woman that held your friend down. “Arat, move that knife up on that girl's face.” Rosita squirmed under Arat, but held her tongue. “Lucille's beautiful, smooth surface is never gonna look the same, so why should yours?! Unless... Unless you tell me who made this.”

“It was me!” Rosita yelled from the ground. “I made it.”

“You see, now I just think you're lying. And you lying to me now? Such a shame. Arat's gonna have to cut up that pretty face,” Arat pressed the knife against Rosita’s cheek. “One more try.” Rosita remained silent.

“Oh! You are such a badass! Fine. Have it your way. Arat…, Negan paused as he lazily looked around the group that had gathered. “Kill somebody,” he finished and Rosita yelled, trying to shove Arat off of her.

“No. It was me!” she tried again, but it was too late. In a single move, Arat spun on her knee, pulled her gun, and squeezed the trigger.

The next thing you heard wasn’t the gunshot, but the sound of your younger brother screaming as heat rushed into your abdomen.

-------

“No!” Carl screamed and Olivia watched in horror as you collapsed to the ground.

Carl vaulted over the railing and slid to your side. “Oh god,” he said, trying to figure out where to put his hands, but there was already too much blood. You stared up at him, trying to figure why he looked so stressed, and when you looked down at yourself and saw the blood, the wound, terror entered your mind.

Not like this.

From down the road came two people, running as fast as they could. Rick nearly dragged Aaron who looked to be beaten. When Rick had gotten to the group, both Tobin and Eugene tried to stop him.

“Rick, stop!” Gabriel said, trying to hide you from view. Rick pushed against the men that held him, handing Aaron over to Tara and Scott. When Gabriel tried to stop him again, Rick shoved him out of the way.

And then, he saw you.

It was like Lori all over again. He walked forward before his knees gave out and Tobin had to catch him again. Carl looked up at his father, tears already flowing from his left eye. “No!” Rick cried, agony soaking his voice.

“Damn!” Negan said, “someone was popular.”

“She’s Rick’s daughter!” Rosita snapped at Negan, getting her voice back as the cut on her face bled. Lucille went from his shoulder to down by his side in a single movement at her words and then Negan took a step back, his face full of shock.

Rick nearly crawled to you, forcing himself to be by your side. His eyes widened as he took in your condition. You knew what he was seeing, there was too much blood. There wasn’t anything anyone could do. Rick was shaking as he knelt in the grass. “No, no, no, dammit, please (Y/N), not like this, sweetheart,” Rick pleaded.

“(Y/N),” Carl choked out, trying to get you to look at him.

“No, I promised her,” Rick cried. “I promised Lori I would keep you safe! All three of you, I was supposed to protect all three of you…” Weak, you reached for your dad, sliding your hand up his face to feel the stubble that you loved so much. Blood smeared along his cheek as you tried to memorize the feel.

“It’s okay,” you whispered.

“She’s only seventeen!” Gabriel hollered, turning his attention to Negan. You were only a year and a half older than Carl and while the two of you had grown up together, you had always felt responsible for him and now as you began to not feel the pain, all you could think of was how you didn’t want to leave him.

“Dammit, Arat! What the fuck!” Negan yelled, approaching her.

“You said to kill someone,” Arat argued, but Negan wasn’t hearing it. He grabbed her by her arm and hauled her up.

“Not a fucking kid,” Negan snarled and then he threw her to his men. “Take her back to the Sanctuary. I’ll deal with her later.” As Saviors took care of their comrade, Negan turned back to you and your family.

Your father was leaning over you, brushing the hair from your face. Lifting your hand towards your brother, you ran it along the side of his face. Carl leaned into your touch, his best friend. You tried to wipe the tears that flowed down his cheek, but you could barely keep your arm up.

“You’re gonna be okay,” your dad said, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your hand, but you were shaking your head.

“No, I’m not,” you said with a weak cough. “I’m so sorry dad,” you told him, tears falling from your own eyes. “I promised not... to go… near him.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Rick said. “Don’t apologize.” You began to cry more as the coldness seeped into your limbs.

“Dad,” you whispered, “daddy, don’t let me...don’t let me turn.” Rick’s eyes closed as his sobs took over him. “Promise me,” you finished.

“I promise, but you have to keep your eyes open for me. Don’t give up...” Rick pleaded and then you looked at your brother, your breathing labored as you mustered up the strength to look him in the eye.

“Tell Judith...Carl, you need to tell her…” you tried to finish, but Carl was already nodding.

“I will, (Y/N/N), I’ll tell her,” Carl promised.

“I love you both so much,” you said. “Michonne and Carol too and...Greene,” you said, not wanting to say Maggie’s name, not even then. “Tell them please.”

“We will,” Rick promised. “I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Carl cried. “I’m sorry I snuck out to go there.” You shook your head, silently begging him to not blame himself. “I love you.” You squeezed your eyes shut as you nodded quickly.

You didn’t try to stop the tears now as they came at full force. You had thought about dying since the beginning of the outbreak. It was hard not too. You had seen so much death already, but you never imagined this is how you would meet your end.

With a deep breath, you turned your eyes to Negan, the only person who would be able to deliver your final message. Negan looked at you, bleeding and broken and he wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

“You,” you said hoarsely, “you need to tell Daryl that I meant it. Tell him I meant it. He’ll know,” you said and then with a cough, blood sprayed from your lips. As you stared up at the sky, your father turned his eyes to his enemy and they were as empty as he felt.

Negan’s eyes went from your father’s face to the hatchet at Rick’s hip. His hand curled around the handle, red entering those bright blue eyes of his. Negan looked as if he wanted to say something, but seeing Grimes leaning over his dying child had shut him up immediately.

Your father and brother held onto you as you lay in the grass of the front yard. There had been times that you thought you were going to die. The first time was when the farm was overrun, the second was when a Walker had nearly killed you while you were out on a run with Daryl at the prison, and the last time had been at Terminus.

You thought you would be ready, but you weren’t. You didn’t want to die and you just knew that your father would stop at nothing to avenge your death and that was something that you dreaded, but you also knew nothing would stop him. Not Michonne, not Carl, and not even himself.

Your grip loosened on your father and brother as you grew more tired. You didn’t know what would be on the other side. Perhaps there wasn’t anything anymore, but there was one person you were hoping to see and that was your mother.

All you wanted was your mom.

As darkness filled your vision, you imagined Lori reaching her hand toward you and with a small smile, you took your final breath.

------

Tara was the first one to crumble.

“(Y/N)!” she cried as Eugene caught hold of her, keeping her upright. Your best friend tried to get to you, but Porter made sure to keep her steady and in his arms. Rosita cried on the ground, guilt wracking her body as Gabriel stood by, saying a silent prayer for you. Carl stared down at you, your vacant eyes pointed at the heavens. He gently reached over and closed them, brushing his hand across your face.

“Rick,” Negan tried, but Grimes was frozen in shock. Instead, Carl was the one to answer the killer before him. Carl stood and slowly faced Negan, creating a barrier between you and the enemy.

“You killed my sister,” Carl said, tilting his head that was very much his father. Negan tried to speak, but Carl shook his head. “Get out, Negan,” Carl said between his teeth, his hand reaching for a gun that wasn’t there, “before I do kill you and trust me I’ll do it with my bare hands.”

The look on the teen’s face told him everything he needed to know, but before Negan could react, Michonne came running down the street, her katana swinging behind her back.

Everyone stepped aside as she ran towards you and her family. When she saw your body, Michonne’s eyes widened and then she ran to your side. “Oh, my girl,” Michonne said, gently, laying her shaking hand over your heart tears springing up behind her dark eyes.

Rick didn’t say anything as he reached over and took Michonne’s other hand, something he never did in front of outsiders. Michonne turned to the man she loved and pressed a kiss to his head as he leaned into her.

Then, because he knew that there wasn’t an infinite amount of time, Rick drew his knife, turning it over in his hand. Michonne lowered the blade, not wanting him to do it. He didn’t need to be the one to do it. Instead, Aaron staggered forward and opened his palm, ready to take the burden from the Grimes’ family just as they would do for him.

Michonne passed the knife to their friend as he kneeled down and turned your head to the side. Michonne buried her head into Rick’s shoulder as Aaron severed your brainstem and shoved the blade into your skull, placing you at rest for a final time.

Carl continued to act as a barrier between you and the Saviors, allowing your father and the woman who had become like a mother to you, say goodbye. Carl, who was still crying, never wavered.

“We’re leaving,” Negan announced and slowly the Saviors turned on their heels and walked back down the road, but not before Negan plunged his knife into Spencer’s skull, finishing him as he had begun moving once again.

Scott, Tobin, and a grief-stricken Tara followed the Saviors out of Alexandria, slamming the gate behind them. In the distance, Tara could hear the wails of Rick, Carl, and Michonne as they cried for their daughter and sister who was stolen from them.

-----

It was well into the evening when you and Spencer were buried.

It was agreed that Spencer would be buried next to Deanna and you, next to the flower bed. A part of Rick wished he could have taken your body to Hilltop to bury you with Glenn, but he knew he had to keep Maggie safe and not draw attention to the other community.

Rosita had taken a car with Eugene to inform Maggie, Sasha, and Jesus of what had happened to you. Rick knew how much Maggie loved you and he dreaded to know how she reacted to the news.

In the light of the moon, Carl, Michonne, and Rick knelt at your grave. Judith sat nearby, unaware that her sister was now gone forever. In her small hands was a bracelet that you had always worn, one she liked to play with. Carl had given it to her just before Gabriel had helped lower you into the ground.

It was silent before commotion drew the Grimes’ family out of their thoughts. From behind a house, Tara appeared, out of breath with wide eyes.

“What is it?” Michonne asked, but Tara was just shaking her head. Rick and Michonne glanced at each other before getting to their feet and following Tara who was gesturing them to follow her.

Carl stayed with Judith while Rick and Michonne made their way to the gate. What they saw, or rather, who, had Rick running at top speed. Leaning against Eric, bloody and beaten, but alive, was Daryl.

Rick ran to him, halting right before he plowed into the archer. Daryl squeezed Eric’s arm and promised him that he was good. Eric nodded and then left the brothers alone. “Daryl?” Rick asked, completely in shock.

“Son of a bitch let me go,” Daryl explained, shaking his dirty hair out of his face. “Just walked into my cell, dragged me out, threw me in a truck, and dropped me a half mile that way,” he said, pointing over his shoulder.

Rick was trying to understand Negan’s reasoning, but all he could think about was the fact that Daryl was home and no longer in his enemies clutches. “He lyin’ about (Y/N)?” Daryl asked and Rick shook his head.

Daryl didn’t hesitate any longer. He walked forward and took his brother into his arms. Rick collapsed against him, careful of his injuries. He clutched at Daryl’s back as the latter shook from emotion as well.

Daryl remembered when he had first met you. You were strong for a kid who had just seen the world burn and he liked you immediately. Then, you had met Beth on the farm and the two of you had been inseparable. He remembered how broken you were after her death and how you worked to overcome it, getting closer to Tara and your brother.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine you lying in the ground, still and cold. Michonne approached Daryl next and kissed him on the cheek as he held her, feeling her grief as well. The three warriors leaned on each other as they felt your loss and then, eventually, Daryl needed to see you.

-----

Michonne and Carl gave Daryl and Rick a moment by your grave. There was a simple marker and the necklace you always wore, a gift from Shane, was looped around the top of the cross for now. Rick was planning on giving it to Judith when she was older.

“What did she mean?” Rick said, breaking the silence. “(Y/N), she told Negan to tell you that ‘she meant it’. What did she mean?” Daryl sighed, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw.

“She once told me that she wanted me to fight,” Daryl explained. “It was after Beth and I told her about my old man.” Rick nodded, knowing the story of Will Dixon and what the bastard had done to Daryl as well as Merle. “I was doubtin’ myself, I didn’t think I could protect anyone again after I lost her. She believed I was a better man than my dad. I guess she really meant it.”

Daryl chewed on his thumb as he looked at the grave, willing himself not to cry. “She was about to be eighteen,” Rick said.

“Born in the winter, right?” Daryl remembered and Rick nodded. “Yeah, Lori mentioned that once.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Rick said after a moment, his eyes on the night sky.

“No more waitin’, man,” Daryl said. “We gotta fight and we gotta fight for her just as she was willin’ to fight for Glenn, Abraham, Beth, and every other damn person we’ve lost.”

Rick nodded and then Daryl offered his hand to his best friend. Rick gripped it tight. He made a silent promise to you then just as he had to Lori as she died, he wasn’t going to let them win and he wasn’t going to let the world take any more of his family.

“We kill them all,” said Rick, “and Negan is mine.”

TAGS: @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @felicisimor @amaroho

#twd imagine #angst #rick grimes x daughter!reader #reader insert #rick grimes imagine #carl grimes #negan #saviors #walkerwords #twd #the walking dead imagines #sad fic #sad imagine #The walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon

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walkerwords · 3 years

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"I would have killed every single one of you"

#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd #negan

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walkerwords · 3 years

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Jeff's acting in this episode. YES KING.

#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd #jeffrey dean morgan #JDM #negan

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walkerwords · 3 years

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Happy Premiere Day to my King

#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd #negan

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walkerwords · 2 years

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me watching the post credit for world beyond finale

#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd #walker words #twd world beyond #norman reedus

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walkerwords · 3 years

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“Hey Brother” Carl Grimes & Sister!Reader

GIF CREDIT: @thetruthwecanthandlee

REQUEST: From anonymous: “Hello! Just wanted to let you know that your writing is amazing! Also, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to request a Carl x platonic reader where the reader is either his older sister or his close friend and she intervenes when he's about to be bitten, saving his life. You can decide if the reader dies as a result or not, I just think Carl deserved better than he got. If you don't feel like writing this, no worries!”

Word Count: 2748

Warning: Swearing, Angst

Song I Wrote To: “Hey Brother” by Avicii

Note: Carl is not someone who I generally write, but I do like Chandler and the character so I am giving it a shot!

----------

Even after years of being out in the world riddled with the Dead, you never got used to the groans of Walkers.

Stepping over one rotten corpse, you encountered another. You held your weapon in your hand, an old fire ax you had found in Woodbury when rescuing Daryl and Merle. Being a firefighter was something you once really wanted. However, when the world ends, becoming a civil servant becomes impossible. Still, being able to wield the equipment did put a smile on your face most days.

As the Walker approached, you jabbed the crowbar end of the fire ax into its skull. Kicking it away, you continued moving the woods that surrounded Alexandria in search of your brother, Carl. When the turn happened, you had been with Carl and his mother, Lori. Your dad was in the hospital after being shot on the job and you had come home from college to help Lori with your younger brother.

You and Lori had never gotten along and you didn’t know if that was because she never liked your mother, Dianne, or because Rick had tried everything to keep you in his life. Regardless of what Lori Grimes thought, you weren’t going to let anything happen to Carl and you had kept the promise.

Even now.

When Rosita told you that she had seen Carl leaving Alexandria earlier, you had grabbed your weapon and went in search of him. Right now was not the time for him to be out beyond the walls. Not when Negan and the Saviors could show up at any moment and make another move against you and your allies. With Rick and Michonne out in the world as well and Daryl being difficult, you had to be the one to drag Carl’s ass back home.

Negan was a headache for you, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t the worst thing out there. When he had killed Glenn and Abraham, you hadn’t been there. You had been with Tara and Heath, searching for supplies. After finding Oceanside and losing Heath, you had arrived home with Tara to a grieving family and a missing Daryl.

The first time you had met Negan, Carl had almost shot two of his Saviors. You had arrived just in time to grab the gun from him before he could. That was when Rick introduced you to Negan and he had offered you his hand. Not wanting to piss him off any further, you had shaken his hand, squeezing a bit too hard. He had seemed amused by you, but also wary. Growing up on the streets of Atlanta, you knew how to survive and you also knew how to deal with power-hungry men. Negan concerned you, but you weren’t afraid of him.

Carl, however, had another opinion. At first, the teenager wanted nothing more than to fill the man with bullets, but after his outing to the Sanctuary, he seemed to have a change of heart. Carl had come to you only a few days earlier and proposed an idea of a truce. He didn’t think the fighting was going to stop any time soon and while you agreed, you knew Negan would never agree to it. The war would only end when either he or your father was dead.

When you had told Carl this, he had stormed off annoyed. As the older sibling it was your job to tell him how the world worked and when it came to men like Negan, you either had to kill him or appeal to a new side. That was where your plan came to mind, but you knew that Carl would never go for it.

You didn’t even want to know what your father would think about it if it came up in conversation. However, for now, you had to focus on finding the kid before he did something even more stupid considering the last time he had gone off, he had attacked the loading dock of the Sanctuary with a rifle.

Shouldering your ax, you picked up the pace a bit.

“Carl!” you yelled, hearing your voice echo off the trees. “Carl!”

The woods answered with silence and you could feel the anxiety growing in your gut as you searched. Climbing up another small hill, you finally heard a commotion in the distance. Not knowing what you were running towards, you sprinted through the dying land. Nearly tripping on roots and downed Walkers, you came across a scene that made the air fly from your chest.

Carl was on the ground as Walkers pinned him down. There was another man nearby, exhausted and trying to get to his feet. Charging forward, you swung the ax, taking off the head of the Walkers closest to Carl. Another grabbed you, baring its teeth and you slammed your boot down on its jaw, separating it from its head. A third Walker then grabbed you and took you to the ground. Shoving your arm under its chin, you managed to get enough leverage to push it off. Your shirt sleeve tore from the force and then blood sprayed you as you pierced its skull with the steel weapon.

Laying there for a second, you turned to look at your brother who was looking over at himself in worry. “You good?” you asked, your eyes also scanning his body for cuts or bites.

“All in one piece,” he said with a relieved sigh. “You?”

“Pissed that I just washed these jeans,” you said with a huff as you sat up, pushing the corpse off your legs. Getting to your feet, you offered your hand to Carl who took it and stood up with your assistance. “Who’s this?” you asked, gesturing to the timid man.

“Siddiq,” Carl said. “He needs our help.” Sighing, you glanced between your brother and the newcomer.

“Carl, we shouldn’t be taking in strays when we are at war,” you said, needing him to understand.

“Since when did we stop helping people? I thought that was what this place was all about,” he argued.

“Last time we helped people, they sent us into a lion’s den that eventually pissed off the leader of the Saviors. We have to be careful and you know it.”

“I’m not okay with just turning the other way anymore,” he said.

“Carl…” you began, but he wasn’t done.

“Aaron helped us!” Carl said. “He brought us here and he saved us when we were starving and on the road. Jesus helped us when we needed food, Ezekiel, too! We took in people at the prison and even helped Gabriel when nobody wanted to. We help people, that is what we do.”

Looking at him, you started to see more of your father in him by the moment. When he was younger, all you could see was Lori, but in the new world and as he matured, he was beginning to act and look more like your father every day.

The looks weren’t the only thing that he had from Rick, he also had his heart and while your father’s head was a bit all over the place at the moment, you knew that he had always stood by the fact that people were needed for survival.

“You’re right,” you said and then took off your canteen from your belt and offered it to Siddiq who took it timidly. Carl nodded to him and he began to drink the cool water. Letting him recuperate, you turned back to your brother. “I know you want to help people, but going off on your own right now is suicide.”

“Because of Negan?” Carl asked and then shook his head. “He would never hurt me.”

“How are you so sure about that, huh?”

“Because he has had lots of opportunities and he’s never done it. He just likes to piss me off and make jabs, but he won't kill him.”

“Negan may not be the one to worry about. I’m sure there are plenty of Saviors out there that would love to see Rick’s son on a pike.” Carl frowned at that. “Look, just think before you do or you’re going to end up dead and you’re going to be taking down any new friends with you,” you said, pointing to Siddiq.

“I don’t want to hear this,” Carl said, turning away.

“I have an idea that may sway Negan,” you said and he paused, turning back to look at you. “Though, you and Dad may hate it. Well, I know for a fact you’re going to hate it.” Carl furrowed his brow as he looked at you, trying to see where your head was at. Then, he remembered the comments Negan made about you when he first met you and the jokes he said in front of Amber and Sherry when he went to the Sanctuary.

“No,” Carl said quickly.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” you challenged.

“You want to marry him,” Carl said and you sighed, hating how well he knew you.

“I don’t want to do anything, Carl,” you said. “But yes, that was the idea.”

“No,” he said again.

“It would work,” you said with a shrug.

“Bullshit,” he countered. “We don’t even know if he’d even want that and then what? You basically sell yourself for a ceasefire that’s not guaranteed to even happen. Then you’d be a damn prisoner in that place.”

“Daryl got out, so can I,” you argued.

“He got out only after one of Negan’s wives felt she owed Daryl! This is the most ridiculous plan you have ever had!” he shouted at you. Siddiq had taken a few paces back to give you and your brother some room to talk, but he was looking more nervous every time one of you went up an octave.

“This is my decision, Carl,” you said, lowering your volume a bit.

“What would Mom think?” Carl said, crossing his arms. His eyes were boring into yours, almost pleading. With a shrug, you brushed off his question.

“Your mother never fucking liked me,” you said with a scoff.

“She treated you like you were one of her own, especially after the Turn.”

“No, she didn’t,” you disagreed, “and I’m not. I am not her daughter, but I am still yours and Judith’s sister and Dad’s daughter. It is my job to keep this family safe and if marrying Negan is the way to do it, then so be it!”

“Who says it's your job to be a martyr?”

“Me,” you argued, sounding very much like Dianne.

“And you think Negan will keep you safe?” he asked, throwing his hands up.

“He has to have some kind of honor, right?” you asked, thinking of the broad-chested man with a habit for bloodshed.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Who says I do?” you asked. “Carl, I don’t want to do it, but if it stops more people from dying then isn’t it worth it?”

“You have already made too many sacrifices for this family,” he said, his tone softer. “Ever since the world turned, you have been putting yourself in danger. You were the one who stopped Shane from going after Andrea on the farm when he was going crazy; You were the one who exchanged yourself for Maggie with the Governor; You were the one who tried to take Noah’s place at Grady trying to save Beth; You were the one who nearly died trying to get Cyndie to work with us in the war. When are you going to stop trying to fix everything and start looking out for yourself?”

“Says the one who hitched a ride into the Sanctuary and went all Al Capone on Negan’s men,” you reminded him.

“I was angry,” he rationalized.

“And you don’t think I’m not? I’m furious! When I found out what he did to Glenn and Abraham, I couldn’t breathe. Then the way he gutted Monroe in the street as if he was nothing more than a sack of meat? Fuck, Carl, I have never felt more anger towards anyone.”

“Because he’s killed people?”

“What? No, not because he’s killed people, we’ve all killed people. I’m angry at Negan because he made me realize that this is how humanity is now. I was happy to keep believing that we could get back to who we used to be, but let’s fucking face it, humans have never been saints. Negan proved that to me.”

“And yet you want to marry him?”

“I want to stop him from killing more of us! I want the damn fighting to stop and if there is even a chance that it does with both him and Dad alive, it’s worth it because if I’m being honest, Carl, I don’t see us winning this war.”

“You have to have faith,” he said and you snorted.

“I stopped having faith the day the fire fell on my city,” you said.

“I’m willing to fight him,” Carl said, stepping closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to be the only one to make sacrifices.”

“But I can’t let you,” you whispered. “Judith needs you, Carl. She needs you alive and fighting for her future.”

“She needs both of us,” he urged. “When I was growing up, you were a hero to me. All I wanted to be was like my big sister and I know now that to do that, I have to tell you when it's time to stop taking on the world alone. When the prison fell and we lost you, I thought I’d never see you again. When we found you with Maggie, I promised I would never let you go again. Don’t make me break that promise, please.”

“Carl, stop,” you said, running a hand over his face, just below his bandage. “You’re giving me way too much credit, kid.”

“You deserve it,” he said. “You’ve never let me down, but if you go with him, you will. We’re Grimes, and that means we don’t take shit from anyone. Alright?” With a deep breath, you swallowed thickly, looking at your baby brother for a moment, trying to take in his newfound resilience and courage. It warmed your heart.

“I was going to say that it’s your time to step up as the older sibling, but it looks like you already have,” you said through a thick voice. Carl rolled his eye.

“Shut up,” he said as he tugged you into a hug. You wrapped your arm around him, clutching him close to you.

“I love you, Carl,” you whispered in his ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too,” he said. “And don’t start thinking you're out of a job just yet just because I stopped taking orders from you. I’m happy with being the middle child for now.” Pulling back, you nodded to him, adjusting the brim of his hat.

“Fair enough,” you said, wiping at invisible tears on your face. Finally realizing Siddiq was still standing around, you snapped out of your thoughts. “You should take him back home,” you said with an awkward cough. “He does need help and we should do it, you’re right. As always.”

“You’re coming too?”

“In a bit, I’m going to do a final sweep, just in case anyone else is lurking around,” you said and he nodded, picking up his gun that had fallen when he was accosted by the Dead.

“Come on, man,” Carl called to Siddiq. “Hey!” he called to you as you turned toward the South. “No, Negan,” he said, his face pleading.

“I won’t,” you said with a sigh. “I promise you.” Carl smiled at you softly, happy with your answer. Carl helped Siddiq as they headed back to Alexandria. You watched him walk away until the trees swallowed up the pair.

The lump in your throat was suffocating as you struggled to stay on your feet. Carl was right, Grimes never gave up, but sometimes they didn’t have a choice. With a shaky breath, you pushed up the sleeve of your right hand, the one that the Walker had torn. Through fresh blood, you could make out a double crescent shape wound in the tanned flesh of your arm.

The bite was burning as blood streamed down your arm and dripped off your fingers. Repressing the urge to scream in sorrow, you tugged your sleeve back down and with glistening eyes, looked back towards Alexandria.

“I’m sorry, little brother.”

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