every time i try to maintain a single blog, i literally fail so hard at it so lydia is going back onto my multi @hallowburnt thank you for your time
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blood covered young woman, acting on instinct. SHOT FIRED AND SCREAM OF PAIN FOLLOWING QUICKLY BEHIND. man holding leg where bullet had pierced skin, blonde kneels down to help. still wary, with good reason. PLENTY OF PEOPLE HOLDING MOTHER’S ACTIONS AGAINST HER. no shortage of hilltop citizens that wanted eighteen year old survivor dead, couldn’t help but to wonder if he was amongst them. cautiously, hand is reached out to older man ––– an offer extended to help after being the one to put him in such a predicament in the first place. eyes wide and apologetic, voice no louder than a whisper. fabric of shirt torn ––– held to his bleeding wound. “ shit. are you okay? ” maybe a stupid question considering, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. “ i thought you were someone else. “ still having trouble thinking of the dead as monsters, belief that it was their world ingrained into her something she was unable to forget. “ sorry, something. ”
@endfght.
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can we please let lydia eat her worms in PEACE?
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fingers claw through dirt, searching for food to eat. COMFORT NO LONGER FOUND IN LUXURIES THAT HILLTOP HAD PROVIDED TO HER. a bed to sleep in, food to eat ––– notions lydia had rejected long ago. it was wrong, WEAK TO PRETEND THAT THINGS COULD BE THE WAY THAT THEY WERE. the weak did not survive, proven to her time and time again. oftentimes thoughts crossed lydia’s mind about leaving, climbing outside the four walls to be on her own. with no one around at the moment, sun just beginning to rise ––– it would be an easy escape. still, something kept her with feet planted firmly where she sat inside settlement.
mud covered fingers pull family of fat worms from earth below. SHE CAN FEEL IT, STRUGGLING TO FREE ITSELF FROM IT’S PRISON WHEN SHE BITES DOWN. tiny hairs coat flesh of her tongue, mouth full of worm when she spots familiar face. CANNOT QUITE FIGURE WHERE FROM, PAST NOTHING MORE THAN A DISTANT MEMORY. quickly, she scrambles to her feet ––– mouth still full and other worms balled up into a fist in her hand. palm is opened flat, offering part of her breakfast to younger girl. “ want one? ”
@grieforged.
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independent and highly selective lydia from the walking dead comics. penned by kate.
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ERA AESTHETIC GAME.
TAGGED BY: @withalisp.
TAGGING: you !
** rules : ** bold the aesthetic that applies to your muse. repost. don’t reblog.
𝗠𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗔𝗟. tired eyes. coffee stains on the table. listening to the bustle of the city. unmade beds. ponytails. sunlight seeping through the curtains. chapped lips. walking barefoot across the floorboards. dusty dictionaries. black and white reruns. huge sweaters. the ticking of the clock. hearing birds in the morning. fireplaces. falling asleep during class.
𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘. freckles. the sun rising. watching the sea. taking shots of the city. historical museums. bright eyes. looking up at the clouds. walls covered in artworks. drawing in the middle of lessons. tracing your fingers on the sand. painting for hours. staying in uncrowded coffee-shops. worn paperbacks. messy braids. going to bed with your knee socks on.
𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗤𝗨𝗘. dark hair. a little sophisticated. always observing the world around you. intricate designs. high ceilings. extravagant musical pieces. dim lights. colourless photographs. fancy furniture. pale skin. hearing soft footfalls coming from outside the room. mischievous looks. bitten nails. candlelight dinners. dark shades of lipstick.
𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟. chandeliers. the clinking of a teacup mug. laced clothing. modern architecture. light hair. watching the view from the terrace. hidden birthmarks. drinking tea in the morning. wandering about in an empty building. botanical gardens. old films. ancient marble sculptures. expensive perfume. breakfasts in bed. reading stories about mythology.
𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖. compassion. short writings on scraps of paper. blushed cheeks. a bouquet of roses. reading collections of poetry late at night. loose hair. carpeted floors. attending operas. faint music playing in the background. staying under the covers until midday. the night sky. streetlights. picking flowers. dancing around in silk dresses. scented candles.
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WHAT SHAPE DOES YOUR PAIN TAKE?
a glass cage.
you feel disconnected from the world around you. you can see everything, everyone can see you, but you're not really there. no one can really communicate with you, can they? you're isolated, even when you're around people you're alone.
you want desperately to be close to someone, but you're afraid of what will happen if you shatter your glass prison. you don't want to let someone in, you don't want to leave, and it's a constant battle of your own will. it's easier to be alone, where no one can hurt you ... isn't it?
tagged by: @withalisp.
tagging: you!
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independent and highly selective lydia from the walking dead comics. penned by kate.
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