Story cover for The Only Universal Language is Violence (Daryl Dixon X Male OC) by MIshaSatanHimself
The Only Universal Language is Violence (Daryl Dixon X Male OC)
  • WpView
    Reads 3,470
  • WpVote
    Votes 160
  • WpPart
    Parts 11
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 28m
  • WpView
    Reads 3,470
  • WpVote
    Votes 160
  • WpPart
    Parts 11
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 28m
Ongoing, First published Oct 13, 2024
Mature
TWD Daryl Dixon spinoff

Harvey:
I used to be a lot of things. Good and bad ones. Depends on who you ask. I knew all the dark parts of this world and I tried my best to change it in the only way the world understood. But when the bloodshed touched what I cared for the most I had to stop. I changed my life radically and abruptly. I needed to erase my old self, and I did. When the world takes a violent turn to the end I have to put a lot of effort to keep my newly acquired pacifistic mentality. I tried my best to find new ways to fight for things I believe in, peaceful ways that will stop the bloodshed, by the time I realize there's no such way the bloodshed has already happened. And I'm left with a kid I care for more than I care for my own life and the man for whom I'm ready to break every rule I placed for myself in the past twenty-something years. One hell with it, I never liked rules anyway.
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Ruin Me So You Can Save Yourself (Daryl Dixon X Male OC) by MIshaSatanHimself
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Sam: I was raised the way that teaches you to be selfless. That's what I was doing my whole life. Taking care of my little brother when my parents couldn't or didn't want to, helping with chores, working, doing my best at school so I don't embarrass my family name, following my father's dreams and mothers expectations. Everything for them, to satisfy them, to please them. No one was ever satisfied with me though, I'm never good enough for no one. So as usual I bought a drink to reward myself for a once again perfect score on the exam. One drink turns into five and I find myself following some guy with pretty eyes. What I didn't know is that next time we meet I'm not going to be the one drunk and it's not going to be the last time I see him either. Quite the opposite, he'll manage to turn my life upside down, ruining it completely, and only the end of the world will be able to fix all of it. Daryl: When I was younger I used to think I was born with a curse in my blood, but then I understood that life is just a bitch. From my mother's death to surviving under my father's thumb and then jumping under Merle's. Whole my life I stood neck deep in shit, be it bird shit, my own shit or my family's. Every day is a stupid fight to not drown in that pool of shit, and for years the only thing keeping me floating were drugs and alcohol. But then, this bloody sunshine dropped into my life. After all the years of violence and roughness I grew to crave him like a secret drug. His gentle touch, his unconditional love and care. As much as my scarred soul craves it, this thing between us is crossing all the lines and breaking all the rules I knew. So I drown in ecstasy and weed even more, trying to figure myself out, so lost in my own bullshit that I didn't notice that his perfect life isn't as good as he says it is, and when I finally open my eyes, he's gone. He's fucking gone, and world is too, or at least the way we knew it.
Scars • Daryl Dixon by 0Myraa0
21 parts Ongoing
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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"𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔡𝔬𝔪." -𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖘 𝕭𝖆𝖈𝖔𝖓 Speech isn't a necessity in this empty world. It's not that I can't speak. I just choose not to. It's a waste of time. I have no need to communicate with others. Especially when everyone is pretty much already dead. I haven't spoken a word in almost two years. There's no need for conversation when the words that are spoken constantly go unheard. [COMPLETED] #1 in darylxreader (10/24/19) #1 in daryldixonxreader (11/17/19)