Just a collection of Walking Dead Imagines written by Yours Truly. I take requests. Enjoy lovely :)
These are for boys and girls who love The Walking Dead, I make these myself so they are copyrighted.
Most of the first are Carl because this was ori...
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❛❛ People who believe in love at first sight have the kind of hope my father taught me to fear. ❜❜
PROMPT: Carl meets Negan's most prized possession; his daughter. [requested by MelissaVecchio ]
"There are certain things I can't bare to see him do." You whispered cooly, your body covered in goosebumps and your hands shaking with fear. "Terrorising a young boy is one of them."
Dwight stared at you sideways, guarding the door as if behind it was something much more special than what it really was. The air was ice cold, only you felt hot all over. You could feel the sweat prickling on the back of your neck. The tight black singlet clung to the sweat on your body as you reached over and smoothed the goosebumps on your arm. Your jaw clenched as you watched Dwight. Pale and burnt face, stringy long blond hair that hung over his disgusting face. A leather vest that didn't belong to him. Tiny childlike teeth and a rosy tongue that found itself outside his mouth more times than in it. His voice was whiny and bitchy, and you thought to yourself about how bored you had grown of hearing it. He was so emotional. Such a wreck. Why was he still here? Because your father liked to keep reminders that at least his life wasn't the shittiest of all.
"What is he doing in there?" Fog clouds emit themselves from your mouth with every word, proving just how chill it really was inside the Sanctuary. It wasn't winter, only the looming shade always proved to be cold. It was always cold here. It was always sad. Sad and cold.
"He's just talking to him. That's all. Go on, kid. Go run along." Dwight told you, trying his best to be gentle with his voice. Another bitchy thing Dwight tended to do. You were the spawn of his version of Satan. He feared your father the most out of everyone...so Dwight really got into the habit of sucking up to you. You narrowed your eyes at Dwight, reaching to the hat on your head.
The baseball cap was your mothers, and it belonged to a team member for the baseball team your father had once coached. The white on the cap had long since faded to an ugly grey - and the once vibrant blue was now a dusty navy colour. Things had changed. The cap had changed. You had changed.
You took off the baseball cap, ruffling your fingers through your hair and then moving to tuck it in your back pocket. Dwight was a short guy, but you still weren't as tall as him.
"Listen Dwight, how about this. You let me in there. I know my dad isn't inside. He's gone to hang out with his wives. He won't be back for another half hour. So just let me inside. You do this and I won't tell him about you and Sherry." Dwight coughed in response. Now it was his time to look down at you with disapproval. He wasn't sure, but he was going to react to blackmail. They always did.
