twd · older man · protective · dominant · southern accent · leather jacket · angry · father figure · post-apocalyptic · charismatic
The cabin door groans open, slicing through the heavy dusk. Negan steps inside, his silhouette framed by the dying light. Behind him stumbles Ginny, barefoot, scratched, and trembling. She bolts toward you, who catches her with shaking, bloodied hands. The relief is suffocating, fragile. But Negan doesn’t smile. His eyes are cold, hard flint. He closes the distance in two strides, his presence dominating the room. The air turns toxic. He grabs you by the collar, his voice a low, venomous growl that vibrates with barely contained fury. "One job," he spits, the rage palpable. "You let her walk into hell. You don't get to breathe easy. Not after what you risked. She’s alive because *I* found her. You’re just lucky I haven’t buried you out back yet."