#lostsongbird

[igottabe]

        after everything that happened at the Sanctuary Beth is probably right. he does need all the sleep he can get — god knows how long they had him locked up in that cell. the darkness inside made him lose all sense of time, Daryl can't even tell himself. if he weren't so upset right now, he'd probably be falling asleep already. but the bad conscience is still there, the knowledge that a friend, a family member, died at his hands. the thought of it just won't leave his head, like a curse the words just keep on repeating over and over again. even has he leans back in his seat and closes his eyes ; the demons inside his brain seem to start screaming at him.

        it's an embarrassing thing to admit but there is no way Daryl could find sleep like this. if only he had something else to keep his mind busy, distracted — that's when his cheeks start reddening at another idea that suddenly comes to his mind. ❝ sing for me? ❞, he asks, and if it weren't for his lack of sleep he would never have spoken this out loud. but back at the cabin, when it had been just the two of them, he had fallen asleep to her lovely voice. it was most natural, so soothing, it might be just what he needs right now. ❝ er — if you wanna ❞, he clarifies right away, blushing so hard his ears begin to burn. ❝ I always kinda' liked that. ❞ he looks over at Beth from the corner of his eyes, waits for her reaction. he shouldn't be so nervous about it but for some reason, he is.

        —       continued thread || @lostsongbird

[doginthecorner]

“chomp”

He thought he was alone - expected to be alone. It was early, the sun only just beginning to peak over the horizon and flood the landscape with color. They needed to find somewhere better to stay. Ever since that cabin had burned down - or rather since they’d burned it down - they’d been sleeping in the woods in the surrounding area but their presence was drawing walkers. 

Daryl settles himself on a log and brings out a match and cigarette, his mind turning to those they’d lost as it always did when he was alone. Carol. Rick. Judith. Carl. Maggie. Glenn. His whole family really, save for Beth, gone up in smoke just as his mother had. He takes a long drag off the cigarette, alone again, it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it felt worse this time, heavier, more constricting. 

He flicks ash onto the ground. 

Beth, he had Beth, but she was just a kid. She needed him to be there for her, not the other way around. 

All of a sudden someone was jumping on his back, giggling and wrapping their arms around his neck. Daryl drops the cigarette in surprise and his first instinct is to get whatever this is off of him, his teeth come into contact with an arm and he’s started to bite down when he catches the blonde ponytail out of his eye. 

“Beth?!” He says, releasing her arm. “What the hell?!”

@lostsongbird

[penguinpositivity]

@agonyworn / @lostsongbird is an amazing writer and whenever she's gone I miss seeing her on my dash, I think she deserves more love and appreciation then she receives, she's truly an amazing person, she's stayed up with me talking to me because I wasn't feeling ok, she's a genuinely good person, more people should follow her.

[igottabe]

♢

»       SEND ♢ FOR AN AESTHETIC OF OUR MUSES       !

        —       @lostsongbird

[savedpeople]

“Can’t sleep?”

Send me “Can’t sleep?” to have a tired conversation with my muse in the middle of the night. | Selectively Accepting (mutuals) | @lostsongbird

He’s lying on his side when she enters, legs bent to keep them from the edge of the cot that’s too short for him. Typically he’ll sit up when company arrives, act like he has more energy than he does, but tonight? No. It’s too damn late and Negan’s been finding himself falling to an even deeper low than he already was. He doesn’t have it in him anymore.

“You gonna pretend like you care?”

Words finally mutter from behind an unkempt beard. Eyes, exhausted and staring blankly at the wall beyond his cell, make a minimal shift to acknowledge her there. A heavily bruised hand hangs slightly off the side of his bed. No, he can’t sleep; he can’t ever sleep. It’s just perpetual misery with him and his thoughts and the absolute nothing that he has.

“… You’re her, right?” He draws a slow breath, releases it. “The widow’s sister.” Negan makes no movements, only vaguely ponders her motives, and it’s another few seconds before he talks again. “What do you want that you need it here, and now? Tell me that. Come here to do what she couldn’t?”

He can only hope.

[xhelenaxleblancx]

@lostsongbird asked for a starter.

          “I’m so fuckin’ bored.” Even the screams of poor slasher victims on the television screen couldn’t CURE HER APATHY TODAY -- you’d think a life of chaos would serve as a means to never get bored. Sociopath felt EMPTY most of the time. No matter what. Bony digits unabashedly and absentmindedly lifted the black T-shirt she was wearing -- fingering frayed edges and exposing her toned, yet starved, abdomen. UNCONCERNED with present company. Why was Beth even here? “Look, either find somethin’ fun for us ta do or get on outta here, Blondie. Ain’t in the mood ta babysit yer ass.” Was a nice ass, BUT STILL.

[guiltedripper]

“ i didn’t think you’d care. ”

five word sentences —— ( accepting )

eyebrows furrow when he looks down at beth. “ of course I care, why wouldn’t I care? ” stefan was always the one to care, even if he didn’t want to care he always did. and she was someone who he cared about. “ what makes you think i wouldn’t care. ”

[contrclfreaked]

@lostsongbird || something we plotted ages ago

“I---I didn’t mean to,” Voice shakes, trembles shoot through her body. Not at all prepared for this, her life expected to be nothing more than marrying a lord, advancing the status of her family, having kids, being a WIFE. Now she had lost all that, had lost everything that made her human, and was forced to steal life from others, some sort of sick payment.    A  monster was what she was.    Alone in the world with not a shining light to guide her but what she used to force from her own heart. But such is faltering now, in the darkness.  & now she was caught, so certain an end would approach.  “ Please don’t kill me, I’ll do better . . . it was an accident. ” maybe she deserved to die . . . just as this man was. Dead. He was dead. But he would come alive in night terrors to come.