The Enemy's Son (TWD)
  • Reads 1,589
  • Votes 52
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 55m
  • Reads 1,589
  • Votes 52
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 55m
Ongoing, First published Jan 12, 2024
Mature
Lucifer Smith didn't want to be like his father. 

He didn't want to be cruel and take lives with a happy psychotic grin stretched upon his lips, blood freckled on his face like his father.

So he didn't, he kept to Negan's shadow and watched silently with his trusty companion by his side. He was obedient and did his best to stay out of his father's sight. But that was a hard thing to do when Negan liked to refer to him as his second in command and the King of Hell. He felt trapped, like even if he somehow managed to escape Negan would end up finding him anyways; so he didn't try.

 But one night, everything changed when he gazed into those fiery gorgeous Georgia blue eyes. Somehow, he just knew he finally had something, someone to fight for...

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Smith!Male OC x Grimes!Male OC


- Inspired by "Ashamed" by indigowriting
- I do NOT own The Walking Dead 
- There will always be happy endings from me so don't worry y'all :)
All Rights Reserved
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Daryl always put on a mask, an impenetrable facade that made him appear indifferent, as if he didn't care about anything or anyone except for himself. He pushed people away, deliberately keeping them at arm's length, but I knew better. I had seen glimpses of something more beneath that hardened exterior-something real, something human. It wasn't obvious, and it wasn't easy to see, but it was there. I didn't know the full extent of his story, of the pain and the ghosts he carried with him, but I could tell that behind his rough edges, there was a man who cared. The more I watched him, the more I saw that contradiction in him-this mix of isolation and vulnerability. I didn't know him the way I wanted to, but at the same time, there was a strange, inexplicable feeling that I did. It was as if there was something familiar in him, something I recognized, even though we'd never truly shared our pasts. His eyes, especially, told a story all their own-a silent narrative of hurt, survival, and loss. There was a depth there, something raw and honest, as though his life before all of this had shaped him into someone who had learned not to trust, not to hope. I found myself wondering what kind of life he had before the world fell apart-what his family had been like, what his childhood had been shaped by. I could imagine the kind of father he had-a man whose influence left deep scars, someone who might have made Daryl believe that showing emotion or affection was a weakness. It wasn't hard to guess that the lessons Daryl had learned were ones forged in silence and pain, things that had made him pull away from others and close off the softer parts of himself. Daryl Dixon x Fem!OC
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83 parts Complete Mature

"Survive now. Cry later. " ♤ "Sweetheart, hush now" I whispered as we hid in the tiny mahogany closest, a small stream of light drifting in. He made a small whimper causing me to pull him closer to my chest as the footsteps got louder. Squeezing my eyes closed, I heard the squeaking of a floorboard as the light disappeared and an eye came into view. "Hey lil bro! Come see what I found!" A loud, raspy, harsh voice chuckled. My heart sped up. This was it.. #1 in #twdlovestory #13 in #twdfanfic out of 2.8K #9 in #daryl