Your old pal Merle, the Asshole Psycho Shooter

Merle is an asshole. Good or bad, it doesn't matter to him, so long as it helps him get by. The only person he's ever been loyal to beside himself is his brother, the only other person in this world that's worth more to him than shit, as far as he cares.

[fuckyesmerleandcarol]

[stelagrimes]

Nicknames by Merle

[assholepsychoshooter]

[assholepsychoshooter]

[assholepsychoshooter]

[daryl-my-brother]

✘

Send me an ✘ and I’ll put my music on shuffle, get the song, and post my favorite line as a starter.

[Fight Inside by Red]

“All the pain, I want it to end”

[assholepsychoshooter]

"What, you got a tooth ache or something?" Merle glanced up from the bit of wood he was whittling into a sharp point and shook his head. After staring at Daryl briefly, he returned his gaze back to his work.

"Or is it some pretty li'il girl y'all are pining after? That sweet li'il blonde thing, maybe?"

Of course, it couldn't be the fact that everyone they knew was long gone that was making his heart sore. That would be stupid.

[assholepsychoshooter]

With her brother busy outside, doing his bit to keep watch for walkers, Mercy had nothing better to do than go bother Merle. "Hey, Cap. What's th' odds of gettin' outta here early for good behavior?" She grinned and leaned on the bars of his cell comfortably.

"Slim to none." His eyes flicked up momentarily as he finished tying up one boot and moved onto the next. "You want time knocked off? You either gotta pay up or pay lip-service to the Warden." As he tried focusing on tying his lace, he shifted about on his bed, curling the other beneath the frame.

“‘Course, you’re more’n welcome to practice your lip-service with me, Sweetie pie. Gotta impress the man if you want out.”

[loadthemangler]

She made a show of looking up at the sky. “Nah, Cap. Weatherman said clear skies all week.” Tugging her damp shirt away from her chest, Mercy shrugged at him. “I guess better to be safe an’ head back just in case.” Her hand swept her hair back and she looked at him. “Got another way back? Not sure I wanna cross paths with those game thieves.” They could come out looking for game another time, but they wouldn’t have a chance if they ended up somebody else’s lunch. She could always share the things she brought along to the prison to make up for the poor hunting. 

[assholepsychoshooter]

"Well, Honey, I think your weatherman might need to find himself a new job." He laughed, smiling sarcastically as he trailed his gaze down to her shirt. That quick movement soon drew his attention away from what she was saying. It was beginning to feel like getting caught out in the rain wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Might be that I do..." He spoke absently, dragging his tongue along his teeth. "But we're close to where we need to be. No point in turning back when we're nearly at the finish line, you follow?"

And it would give him more time to enjoy this fortuitous turn of events.

[quoted-books]

Forgetting isn’t enough. You can paddle away from the memories and think they are gone. But they will keep floating back, again and again and again. They circle you, like sharks. Until, unless, something, someone? Can do more than just cover the wound.

Sara Zarr, Story of a Girl (via quoted-books)

[assholepsychoshooter]

[xpondd--archive]

Send me an ✘ and I'll put my music on shuffle, get the song, and post my favorite line as a starter.

[assholepsychoshooter]

[assholepsychoshooter]

With her brother busy outside, doing his bit to keep watch for walkers, Mercy had nothing better to do than go bother Merle. "Hey, Cap. What's th' odds of gettin' outta here early for good behavior?" She grinned and leaned on the bars of his cell comfortably.

"Slim to none." His eyes flicked up momentarily as he finished tying up one boot and moved onto the next. "You want time knocked off? You either gotta pay up or pay lip-service to the Warden." As he tried focusing on tying his lace, he shifted about on his bed, curling the other beneath the frame.

“‘Course, you’re more’n welcome to practice your lip-service with me, Sweetie pie. Gotta impress the man if you want out.”

[loadthemangler]

She flipped him off, barely suppressing the urge to “accidentally” shoot him in the ass. He acted like she had been stomping through the woods, belting out the score from “The Pirates of Penzance” and snapping off branches to the beat. Of course, if he was ever bitten in front of her, his last act in life would be modelling a nifty new arrow in the face. He was a useful guy to have around, but her own life was worth a dozen Merle Dixons.

Matching his pace so that the sounds of her footfalls was masked by his, she followed him, eyes scanning the trees around them for any sign of movement. So far, she didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there was nothing there. Her ears were straining so hard for any sound that they felt like they’d fall off. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax a bit and trust her instincts. They’d kept her alive this long. Tensing up now would do more to harm her than help her if it hit the fan. She exhaled slowly and moved half a pace closer to Merle as they made their way through the brush in near silence.

[assholepsychoshooter]

She might not have been overly loud, but Merle was angry over losing yet another catch. It took him longer than most men to secure a snare, and he'd have to wait another long while to go searching for another clear trail like the one he found. Biters didn't give a shit about preserving trails when they stomped through an area, and that was easily more aggravating than how frequently they cleaned out his snares before he could get at them.

He tried to put that out of his mind as he lead the way towards a grove of chestnut trees he knew of. But, what had started out as an unlucky day turned even worse. They were nearly there when the sky finally broke over their head. Merle tried to ignore the first few drops, putting it off to his imagination, but a few drops turned into a heavy downpour faster than he made up his mind to turn back.

"Shit!" He hissed, balling his fist and stamping a foot on the ground as he raised his face to the dark sky overhead. Today just wasn't his day. His face contorted in anger and frustration as he turned to face Mercy. For a moment, he contemplated blaming her. If he hadn't had to wait for her, he could have been home already, but no, he had to wait for her to show up.

"You know what Darlin',? I think it's gonna rain." He chuckled, raising a hand to rub some of the water from his face. 

[outdoorxcat-deactivated20141122]

Help me out, Daryl. Tell these fellers't keep houndin' me about whether or not y'all're... right in the head or not. You like girls like any normal man, right?

     ”Course I fuckin’ do!” He liked them just fine. He liked talking to them. Liked looking at them. Liked being around them, for the most part. Liked when they cooked for him. Liked when they didn’t. Liked when the minded their own damn business. Liked when they smoked. Liked when they drank. Liked when they were health nuts. Liked when they did whatever the fuck they pleased, really. He just didn’t like kissing or sleeping with them. A minor, unimportant detail. Perhaps. “Who th’fuck is askin’ ya all this shit, Merle?”

[assholepsychoshooter]

"If I knew, don't you think I'd be bringing you their head on a stick?" Daryl's reaction helped to settle him, even if he was still visibly annoyed and agitated. He shifted on the spot, lips curling back from his teeth. "It ain't the first time someone's been asking about you."

And it probably wouldn't be the last, judging by how they kept popping up to ask him dumb shit like that. "Shit, Daryl. If this is one of your little Wonderfriends' idea of a joke..."

[dingleminyard]

I just want my brother back.

[assholepsychoshooter]

[quoted-books]

Changing is what people do when they have no options left.

Holly Black, Red Glove (via quoted-books)

[thexenforcer]

+assholepsychoshooter

assholepsychoshooter started following you

[thexenforcer]

          " ‘Lo Merle," Daryl greeted, taking a swig of the bottle.

[assholepsychoshooter]

"Daryl." The older Dixon nodded his head in response as he parked his ass down near his brother. Despite how little he'd done or accomplished today, he sure did make a show out of fanning himself with his shirt once he was comfortable.

"Boy, your friends sure do know how to keep a feller busier than a one-legged man at a butt kicking contest, huh bro?" Each word was laden with sarcasm so thickly that it was a wonder he didn't choke on them on the way out. No one truly trusted him with anything around these parts, and it was little wonder why.