zwhacking-archived-blog:

_{send me a ‘soul’ and my muse will describe what they think your muse’s soul ‘sounds’ like.}

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       _{❛ there’s… grief. overwhelming grief, whispers of fallen ones and cries of a child. bullet casing raining onto hard floors, and gasps of breaths before tears threaten to fall. there’s rage, muffled words through gritted teeth and screams of anger in silence. the sound of gasoline pouring out of a gas can, and the overwhelming sound of it being hit with a lit match. molotov cocktails hitting a building, fists meeting tender flesh - and if you listen close enough; water down a creek, signs of life. signs of hope. ❜}

jcstafriend-archive-blog1:

      [ Break my muse in 15 words or less. ]

@peletiier

        _{❝  —  carol. ❞ it’s just her name, a small refusal. there’s a bite in her neck that she reveals as she peels away at her shirt, the material sticky against the wound. i can’t be saved. aaron grips his gun, fingers itching on the trigger. there’s NO part of him that is convinced he can do it; that he can put it against her head and kill her– not carol, anyone but someone he cares about.}

       ^{aaron shakes his head, taking a cautious step back. there has to be another way, a possibility that they could find a way to keep carol alive, to stop the inevitable. it’s been atleast a few hours since they escaped from the herd, probably not giving her long before the fever hit her. her forehead was layered with sweat, voice raspy as she spoke. ❝  there’s GOT to be another way. ❞  the man isn’t prepared to say goodbye just yet; here’s not sure he ever will be.}

      _{she looks desperate, but not yet scared, and his gun feels heavier in his hands than it EVER has– aaron can’t remember a time when he ever had to make a harder decision. he’s only ever killed two people, those which had attempted to kill him, and he can’t live with carol’s blood on his hands. ❝ carol, we’ll– ❞ they have to find away; somehow, daryl has to say goodbye, he has to have the chance to tell her he loves her.}

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     _{they’re wasting time they CAN’T afford to lose; minutes ticking by while her condition gets worse, searching through a million drawers and cupboards for batteries just so she can say goodbye– just so she can have the chance that many others don’t have. carol is so close to passing that his heart is stuck inside his throat.}

     _{he’s not sure he’s ready for the moment when his hand will rest against her chest and her heart won’t beat but his will; when he’ll be responsible for the moment that she is no longer alive. will daryl blame him when the time comes– when he returns with no one BUT the ghost of the woman that his friend loved? it isn’t until her breathing halts, used to whisper a feeble ‘goodbye’ before her life ceases, that it finally hits him.}

    _{aaron stops searching through the drawer, hands pausing on an opened pack of batteries– only one of which works– the perfect ones for the walkie. his head slowly turns, unprepared for what he’ll see when he does. she’s sitting there, against the wall that he leant her against, eyes squeezed shut tightly and stomach drawn to a halt. ❝ carol? ❞ she doesn’t answer. ❝ carol? ❞}

   _{he lifts his gun but he knows he can’t do it; walker or not, she’s still a friend. the man sinks against the cabinet, hitting the ground with a dull thud, gun clattering a distance away. when the time comes, when she turns, he’ll HAVE to do it ( so he can go back to eric, so he can tell daryl that she loved him, that she died saving him ) but for then, at that moment in time, it’s enough for him to sit there.}

                     _{( eventually he gets the walkie to work, just long enough to send a message– to whisper ‘she’s gone’– before the batteries die. )}

aintashes:

          carol, despite her timid beginnings, has become a rather unexpected constant in daryl’s life ( and truly, he wouldn’t have it any other way ). she’s proven to be cunning, resourceful, terribly intelligent, and willing to do absolutely anything in order to further the group– even if that means making the tough decisions with her grasp on logic and readiness to go through with what needs to be done. but though she can be manipulative and cold, daryl trusts her with his life and admires her resilience; and he’ll defend her to the ends of the earth if he knows that she’s doing what’s right for them.

          the truth is that he can’t sum up the things he enjoys about her in a few words. with all she’s done for him, from cracking the thick outer shell of his insecurities to opening his cover and touching pages no one else has ever read, he finds it much too difficult to put how much he cares for her into simple terms.

          a nervous fiddling of his fingers at his side indicates his discomfort with answering this question aloud at all. his companionship with carol is not necessarily secret ( everyone knows how they gravitate toward one another ), but there is a desire of privacy there; a withdrawn element to their relationship that remains unspoken but clear.

                            ❛ —– she’s a SURVIVOR. ❜

          it’s the first thing that came to his mind, and he thinks that it gets his point across fairly well, if excluding the finer, more personal details.

               she wasn’t going to go at all.

               if felt too real – like she was just ACCEPTING it if she went along. she was there when it happened and watched the life EBB out of him, stroking his hair from his face and PRESSING kisses to his forehead and smiling through her TEARS as his heart finally stopped. she can’t remember how long she sat there with him, still talking in STILTED conversation at his lifeless body, but she does remember the PRESSURE she used on the knife to stop his brain and rick’s GENTLE voice urging her to move. his body was still WARM and when he was pulled from her grip and laid in the ground but still she FELT colder than she’d ever been in the GEORGIAN sunshine. 

               she expected more tears – she expected EARTH SHATTERING grief and rage and not being able to MOVE from her bed for days – but after glenn had tenderly washed the blood from her hands {{ she wanted to KEEP it smudged on her hands, deranged as it sounded, it was his, it was HIS and it was all she had LEFT }} she didn’t feel much of anything. 

               {{ that night she DREAMS of a farm and a little girl with freckles DOTTED across her face, and when she CHASES her she can’t keep up, until she does and the little girl isn’t SOPHIA, but a now a man, a walker with DARYL’S face and she tumbles towards him and feels the PAIN of teeth against her flesh because there are no ARMS around her to stop her. }}

                she wasn’t going to go, but as SOON as she arrives people keep telling her they’re SORRY for her loss and on reflex she feels the need to CORRECT them – “ he wasn’t mine to lose !! ” – but she’s shaken with the THOUGHT that his death is like losing part of herself, that it’s INFINITELY more painful than losing ed and she actually FEELS like a widow now.  {{ she takes the compliment with a NOD and has to look away, she can’t FOCUS on what they weren’t, what they didn’t HAVE and what they could have BEEN now that he was gone. }}

                 she thinks she’s EXPECTED to speak and waits until the end, after the OTHERS have spoken and the dark part INSIDE of her flares with anger – they didn’t KNOW him like she did, she was the FIRST to see him and she doesn’t want to SHARE her grief with anybody – but she TAKES to the head of the shallow grave and stares intently at the LEATHER jacket covering his face.

                 {{ he’d hate that, she was sure, being UNABLE to see, and for half a second she thinks she notices the WINGS etched onto the back of it move and she’s SURE he’s going to wake up and tell everybody to stop FUSSING over him, but he doesn’t }}

                 she takes a SHAKING breath before she finally talks and everybody is SILENT as they watch her sort her thoughts – how can she POSSIBLY tell them and expect them to understand how she FELT about him ??  

             ❝ d– daryl dixon was a good man and he saved my life in… he saved my life constantly. i wouldn’t be here without his help, or his… support when i lost my little girl, and i just wanted him to know how grateful i was. how grateful i am.  ❞

            ❝ —i loved him and i never told him that. he deserved to hear that, he needed to know how much— how good he was. how much he did for all of us, all of you. he never— he thought so little of himself and i just wish i’d… gotten him to see it. and now he’s… now he’s gone. ❞

SEND ME  ✁ & TWO CHARACTERS && @fortexmadre

wtf is this u ass

lori is one of her closest friends, and she remembers meeting her && shane && carl before anybody else – lori would watch sophia for a couple of hours while she calmed ed down after something had angered him, and of course carol would do the same for her. she never judged her friend for her interaction with shane, though many did, as she knew that lori wouldn’t have done anything with another man unless she truly believed {{ or was told }} that her husband was dead.

she can see the love in the little family when they are reunited, and it’s truly a miracle that they found each other after all this time and with the arrival of little judith, it seems that somebody, somewhere is watching the grimes family and carol would give anything for just one family to make it through all of this until the end. 

           ❝ judith.❞

she’s just a child, a baby and carol can’t bear to lose another child in this world and it took so much to bring her into this world that an untimely death before her first birthday would be a cruel twist of fate – and losing a baby would destroy lori, a feeling that carol knows only too well.