#savior negan

[lovelylostminds]

“ truth is that i'm so damn in love with you i don't know what to do with myself. “ (for Charlotte)

Scared romantic moments || Accepting || @savior-negan

“You say that but you keep pushing me away.” Her heart ached. Is it too hard to give in? To let go? And every time she gets close, she’s shoved two steps back.

“Negan, the danger is over. Why can’t you just.. be with me? Just let yourself be loved and to love.”

[lostgrimesgirl]

❝ did you cut yourself carving the pumpkin? let me see it. ❞ (teacher verse)

Lena looked up from her spot pressing the paper town to her hand to stop the bleeding. Of course, she was the idiot who would cut her hand while carving a stupid pumpkin and of course it'd be in his class. Lena looked up seeing Negan standing over her at her table, "it's fine, really," Lena said trying to avoid meeting his eyes. Lena sighed showing the cut on her hand, " See, it's small, I'm fine," she added raising an eyebrow at him.

[ourwrittenstories]

“  you could’ve gotten yourself killed! you could’ve— fuck!  you scared the shit outta me.  ” (Twd)

Most of the small town had been cleared by the pair, and once again by the older man, to make sure there were no lingering walkers in the vicinity. They were taking their time going through each building for resources and enjoying the quiet simplicity the abandoned place offered. Cassia could look down the main street and imagine it was just as quiet when it was full of people.

She had been looking out the window, bright and early in the morning, to check to make sure they were still secure and saw movement out of her left eye. At first, she considered waking Negan, but noticed the movement was too fast and too small for a Walker.

A rabbit!

Not wanting to startle it, she grabbed her hunting knife without waking Negan and left through the back door. It was close and she had gotten damn good at being light on her feet. It spooked once, but all in all her little hunting trip took no longer than ten minutes.

Cassia had returned, panting a little, expecting Negan to still be comfortably asleep. Of course, he wasn't, and of course, she didn't leave a not as she didn't want to miss the opportunity of fresh game. She jumped when he yelled at her and stared wide-eyed at him, shaking, with her hand holding the dead bunny up by its feet.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaked out, stepping closer to try and calm him, as her look of pride turned to one of guilt. Before he had a chance to yell anymore she quickly began her apology, barely pausing or breathing between words, "I didn't a-uh-- it's just it's so fat and I wanted to surprise you. It was-- I knew I could get it and I didn't want to use a gun, because that would be stupid and noisy, and I'm not the best with a bow yet, so I had to be kind of sneaky and that took a lot longer than I anticipated, and I should've left a note or woke you or something, I know, that's- but, but, ---"

Then she tilted her head and panted quietly to catch up on her breath, "I'm--I'm okay...See? Not even a scratch. I didn't realize you'd be so worried...I'm sorry."

[negans-savior-complex]

Plotted starter for @we-will-begin-again​

It wasn't all that unusual for strangers to wander into Savior territory; more often than not they were the usual survivors, desperately looking for safety, a roof over their heads and four walls to hide behind. Sometimes they were of the nastier sorts, armed groups with a murderous attitude looking for trouble, and to take what was rightfully theirs. And sometimes... sometimes it were people like these. The inbetweeners, not quite the desperate sort, but at the same time not quite a threat either. Not outright anyway.

From what Primo had told him over the radio, a group of such people, no more than a small handful, had wandered too close to one of their outposts to avoid detection. What they were doing there no one knew, possibly they'd meant to use the place as a hide-out for the night or maybe they'd hoped to simply loot it and move on, not knowing that it was already occupied by far more people than they could handle.

They were surprisingly well equipped, which threw out the theory that they were simply yet another ragtag band of desperate sorry bastards, which wouldn't be a problem except they refused to answer any of the questions Primo had asked them. Who they were and where they came from. If they were part of a bigger group or community and what they wanted. They wouldn't even give their names, which was just rude as fuck at this point.

Nothing. Zip. Fucking nada.

And that right there was a goddamn problem.

Nothing happened in Savior territory without him knowing about it and if these assholes thought that they could get away without answering anything and be allowed to move on like this wasn't a problem, they had another fucking thing coming.

With enough persuasion, everyone talked eventually... and Negan prided himself on his ability to persuade people into doing all kinds of shit. And until they did, they would be considered enemies.

So when Primo had contacted him on the radio, his orders had been simple: strip them of all weapons and belongings, load them into a truck and bring them to Sanctuary so he could confront them personally and get what he wanted. They weren't to be harmed but at the same time they were to be kept under guard at all times, and to only shoot to kill if one of them tried anything. Their survival wholly depended on whether they were willing to cooperate or not.

His radio crackled with static before a voice came through, the old speaker giving a slight metallic quality to the words, but they were clear nonetheless. “Boss? We're here, unloading them now. We're at loading dock C.”

Negan inhaled deeply and reached down to remove the device from where it sat clipped to his belt, and raised it up, pressing the PTT button on the side. “Be there in a minute.” Returning it to his belt Negan turned on his heel; Lucille sat in her usual place when he wasn't carrying her around, propped up against the backrest of a plush recliner opposite the couch. Depending how things went with these strangers, he might have need of her tonight.

Holding her in his hand, feeling her comforting weight in his palm like she truly was an extension of himself, always made him feel better. Not quite complete, but close, as close as he would ever get to feeling complete again. Lucille's death had ripped a tear in his soul, punched a hole in his heart that nothing and no one had managed fill, no matter how many communities he had under his control or how much shit he had... no matter how many people he fucked, and that was okay. He was hardly the only one, everyone had lost someone at some point, but the pain served as a clear reminder of his shame, his weakness and his mistakes, and that was what kept him going strong now. It was what he drew strength from, and the bat made it bearable.

With her safely in his hands Negan left his room, traversing the darkened hallways of the factory on his way down to the loading docks. At this hour, a little past midnight, all the workers had long since retreated to their own beds but he wasn't alone; there were still Saviors around, patrolling the halls and the grounds outside, and every single one of them gave him a wide berth and a respectful nod as he passed them on his way out.

Loading dock C was of course that one loading dock where the goddamn exterior light above the door had broken down days ago, and no one had bothered to fix it yet. It wasn't used much, which was probably the reason why Primo had picked it, which was fine and fucking dandy, but it was so dark out he could barely see these people he was to tickle for information. The only light came from the truck's headlights they'd used to get here, illuminating their captives from behind and making it impossible for him to make out any details or faces unless he moved closer.

Meant they could see him just fine though, so not all was lost.

They were there, kneeling in the dirt in a neat little row, all properly lined up like sheep ready for slaughter. To the side, at the bottom of the concrete steps lay their belongings, various rucksacks and duffel bags as well as a few firearms and knives, kept well out of their reach. They were outnumbered at least two to one anyway, they'd be fucking stupid and suicidal to try and make a grab for their weapons but hey, he'd been surprised before. Some people really were that stupid.

Negan watched them for a moment, Lucille resting on his shoulder, and his lips slowly curled up into a devious smirk, causing the dimples in his cheeks to deepen. “Well,” he mused and reached up to stroke leather clad fingers over the scruff on his chin. “aren't you a sorry looking bunch of sad shitstains on the pavement. Not quite how you imagined this night to go I imagine. Things are about to get a whole lot more interesting real soon, that I can fucking guarantee.”

Dry grass crunched under his boots as he approached the line-up, not close enough to be within reach, but close enough to demand their attention. Every shred of it.

“It's real simple.” he continued, using his free hand to gesture at the group while he paced in front of them with slow, deliberate steps. “I ask a fucking question, you give me a goddamn honest answer. You're here because you did not communicate and here I am, taking precious time outta my night to give you motherfuckers a chance to remedy that mistake. I'd say that's more than fucking generous. It's like my ol' nan always used to say; communication is key, and talking-” Negan came to a full stop and swung Lucille off his shoulder, swinging her with an audible hiss of displaced air as he switched her from one hand to the other. “-talking is what keeps you alive. So.”

The leather of his glove creaked as he tightened his grip around the handle and pointed the bat's blunt head to the person at the far left, slowly moving her down the line. “Question number one: which one of you limp dicks is gonna be the first one to spill their fucking guts out and tell me what I wanna know?”

[xgoldxnhour]

‘  i don’t have trust issues. i have ‘seen that shit happen before my own eyes’ issues.  ’ (verse we have no name for 🤣)

@savior-negan

“So, what do you see, Negan?” El asks so defiantly, matched with a quirked brow. She leans on the arm of her loveseat, hands holding her weight against it. “Right here, what do you see.” With her, with them. With this—agreement. A tethered contract that’s gotten far too tangled for them to pull apart. She didn’t even ask him to come today, but here he was by the door. Uninvited, but he knows that he no longer needs one. Should’ve known when she gave him a key. “What’re you doing here then?” She asks, though there’s no distaste behind the words, but mere, unburdened curiosity.

“Do you trust me?” Her voice sounds innocent, and the question is…for the most part as her head tilts, chin raising slightly as her tongue presses at the bottom of her teeth. If he isn’t easy on trusting, she wants to know if she’s pierced that veil, pulled back its curtain to reveal its soft center. What lies behind the seductive bravado that he carries beneath that leather jacket. And where does she lie on things that he’s seen with his own eyes.

[ourwrittenstories]

♧ (for Cassia, professor verse)

♧ - slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch ----

It was the first time Negan had invited her over to his fancy modern apartment and Cassia was a little nervous. She had taken an extra dose of Adderall to attempt and quell all of her excited energy, but it had only served to heighten her awareness of, well, everything. The large energy drink she chugged first thing in the morning probably didn't help either.

He had led her into his office with a promise to give her the 'grand tour' once he was finished reading and grading a couple papers from his more advanced classes. For the first fifteen minutes that was fine, she enjoyed being in his presence and listening to him breath while he flipped through pages. Sometimes he'd mutter an insult and she'd find herself giggling under her breath because it was cute (and hot) when it wasn't directed at her. But, damn, that ADHD was a son of a bitch and soon enough she was wandering around the small room looking at the books and trinkets lining the shelves. It was a glimpse into his life that she never thought she'd see and every single thing was fascinating. The books, the photographs, the odds, and ends that seemed so out of place; she wanted to hear all the stories about them.

Cassia flicked through an older looking book curiously for a while, the pages well-loved and even scribbled upon in some places when she saw a hat pin sitting on the shelf nearby. She placed the book back where it had been and lifted the pin up gently. It was lovely. Vintage looking with it's antiqued gold and pearl accents. She followed the long needle of it to the sharp end and poked it just when she felt a sting on the back of her hand.

"Ah!" Cassia squeaked, dropping the pin back onto the shelf while turning to look at Negan in surprise. How long had he been standing there watching her? The guy was a fucking ninja! "Oh-uh, sorry," She mumbled, flushed pink at being caught doing something unknowingly naughty, while putting her finger in her mouth to suck on the small droplet of blood that had formed.

[ourwrittenstories]

❛  i broke my rules for you.  ❜ (professor verse) for Cassia

"Oh, um.."

What was she supposed to say to that? Thank you? I'm sorry? Cassia knew that they were risking, well, everything with their private affair and the wrath of the college if anyone found out, but what did he mean by his rules? It made sense that he'd made his own set to go along with the school's, but she was curious what they were.

Cassia was thankful that Negan was a selfish man and only sometimes worried that he would end everything to protect himself. Maybe even to protect her, but he didn't seem much like the martyr type.

"I-Is this the part where you change your mind?" The redhead asked meekly, heart already threatening to break at the mere suggestion of losing him, "Are-am I not being careful enough? Did I do something wrong?"

[ourwrittenstories]

❛ i’m going to ruin you. ❜ (for Cassia)

"Is that a threat or a promise, big guy?" Cassia exhaled her words in a whisper of heat, hope gilding the edges so much it was blinding, while leaning back against the dusty old couch like it was some expensive lounge. They had been teasing each other all day with small touches and stolen glances and, as exciting as it was, she was ready for the climax. Pun intended.