#and isolation/lack of support in his life

[vitamin-zeeth]

Just watched fight club it was gayer than I expected

[xwritingdixonx]

Is It Better To Speak or To Die? | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.

Warnings: slow burn, language, smoking, grief, depression, talk of body scars, implied smut, implied past abuse, Governor (enough said)

Word Count: aprox. 10k

Era: Prison, Alexandria.

Song Recommendation: Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray, Would That I - Hozier

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The survivors of Woodbury had called The Prison “home” for only a week. The war and downfall of the Governor and Woodbury were still fresh in everyone’s gut, though others were making themselves comfortable very quickly. You were not. It was such an irony to you. Taking shelter in a prison as if this world wasn’t a prison. As if the traumas of the past year of survival didn’t hold you by your throat. Your own mental prison.

The bowl you held still warmed your hands. Though you knew no appetite arose in your stomach, you still took the bowl Carol offered just to be polite. Standing alone, your back leaned against the support beam of the gazebo all the benches sat under for meals. You had been a part of Woodbury...but you certainly hadn’t been a part of the community. Not near the end at least.

Most people steered clear of you. Avoiding your tired hardened eyes and threatening gazes. Avoiding the tenseness in your persona. Completely removing themselves from the possibility of having an interaction with the emotionless shell you had become. Others were compassionate, showing you any empathy they could bear. You’d get a polite head nod and warm smile occasionally, though you never returned it.

In Woodbury, no one asked questions, they talked and gossiped amongst one another but never bothered. But at the prison, you were new. Fresh meat. So in turn, you had your fair share of stares and whispers from Rick’s group.

Carol had become your latest bother. In the mornings, just like today, people would slowly make their way to line up for their share of breakfast. Your desire was to simply come out in the crisp morning air and smoke a cigarette, attempting to forget the night of terrors you encountered when you closed your eyes. You’d be sure to isolate yourself a bit away so the smoke didn’t bother anyone’s morning. But Carol simply wouldn’t accept it.

The last few days she’d noticed the lack of breakfast passing your lips. You’d smoke a cigarette and then wait to eat a proper meal for dinner. Reminding her of another certain someone.

She couldn’t make you line up and wait like everyone else. She couldn’t make you come and sit at a table and be social. So, she’d make you your own bowl and walk it over to you, giving you a polite smile, and then walk away. She did this for the past 3 days, catching onto your pattern early on.

“How’s she doing?” Rick drawled as Carol handed him his own bowl of powdered eggs and steamed potatoes. “Can bring a horse to water but you can’t make ‘em drink.” Carol joked back, Rick nodded in response and thanked her for his bowl.

Rick had been keeping an eye on you ever since you’d arrived. Unlike most of Woodbury, who willingly came running out to be rescued, you were found by Rick. The door to the room he found you in had been locked from the outside.

Everything he found out about you from that point had been from the mouths of others. You hadn’t even used words to tell him your name, he had been told by someone else. “Morning.” Rick greeted Daryl who was already almost finished his own breakfast, “Mornin’.” He stood with Daryl, neither of the men having time to sit with all the plans to improve the prison.

Daryl followed Rick’s gaze, noticing the way Rick seemed to be lost in thought. When the gaze ended on you, Daryl scoffed. “Figured that one out yet?” He asked, shoving a spoon of egg in his mouth. “Not yet.” Daryl had tried himself to scramble for puzzle pieces of you but had no success. You didn’t talk. Not a word, not even a whisper. There was a part of him that was intrigued by you, a part of him that wanted to dissect. But there was the other part that told him to mind his business.

“Good morning.” Riley begins to pass by, greeting Rick and Daryl. If the term Southern Bell was a person, that would be Riley. Blonde hair, dark emerald eyes, sweet smile, curvy in all the right places, and a smooth southern drawl. Smooth and sweet, nothing like your jagged sharp edges. Riley had been brought in with the Woodbury group and quickly made herself useful in running her mouth…but also in learning medical. “Morning.” Riley’s green eyes darted in the direction the men were looking. Because how dare their attention be on anyone but her.

“I feel so bad for her…” She commented, putting herself into their conversation. Rick and Daryl both gave each other a glance. Rick wanted to know about you from you. Not from the gossip and storytelling of others. “I swear it’s like her mouth was sewn into a frown when Jackson died.” Riley actually looked quite empathetic when she said this. “Who was that?”

“Her twin brother.”

Rick took a pause from eating his breakfast to let this new information marinate into his brain. Though neither of them asked for it, Riley continued. “When they first got to Woodbury, everything was fine. But then the Governor wanted Y/n to be one of his soldiers.” Using air quotations at the word soldiers.

“Y/n refused over and over. One night, Governor took Y/n and Jackson for a walk outside of Woodbury’s walls and Jackson didn’t come back…Governor said he got bit but…” Riley’s words trailed off as she looked at your stone-like features. “Y/n joined him after that…some people thought he killed Jackson and used it to force her to.” Her tone was uneasy as if the Governor would come to get her if she dared speak of it.

Or maybe she was more afraid of you.

“After that, I mean..” Riley scoffed dramatically and tried to ease the tension with a laugh, “I-I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway.” She gave the men a sheepish smile before swiftly walking away, joining a full table.

"Forgot how much people love to gossip huh?"

"Hmm," Daryl hummed in response. Rick took Daryl's empty bowl and stacked it on his own. "Gonna go give Judy her breakfast, alright?" As he nudged Daryl with his elbow, Daryl responded with a hum that was accompanied by a nod.

Daryl had learned the art of minding his business a long time ago. He didn't want people in his...so why pry into others?

You had finished your cigarette and smushed it into the concrete under your boot, now aimlessly poking around in the texture of the oatmeal. Carol frequently cooked her oatmeal for a tad too long and with too much liquid, giving it a mushy, snot like texture. It gave you another reason to skip out on breakfast but you at least wanted to try.

Daryl watched as you took a bite from the bowl. You moved around the food in your mouth, chewing slowly. The texture on your tongue was enough to turn you away. You looked in the direction of the bench where all of the younger children sat. Some talking with food still in their mouths. Their chattering stopped when they saw you approach like a dark gloomy cloud threatening rain.

Without saying a word, you placed your bowl in front of Patrick, offering him your share. Behind his thick glasses, he looked at the bowl then at you, and smiled. “Thanks Y/n.” You replied with a nod and walked away. Patrick was one of the few people from Woodbury who was consistently kind to you. He was always polite and never treated you any differently. You had actually heard him defend your name more than once. Perhaps he was just too young to feed into it but it was an act that didn’t go unappreciated by you.

And your act towards Patrick hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daryl. It wasn’t as if you had saved his life but you could’ve thrown your share away. Snuck over to the pig's pen and scraped it in. Instead, you gave it to a child.

Daryl would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by you. He had never been intrigued by anyone in his life, though he couldn't deny the itch that was the mystery of you.

Two mornings after that one, Daryl had woken up particularly early. Readying himself to go outside the fences. There was a steady whisper amongst his friends the true reason he wondered out of the safety of the prison walls. The thought of The Governor still being alive haunted Daryl’s mind as it did the others. But no one would do what he did nearly every morning. No one except you.

Not many were typically up at this hour. The sun had barely risen and the morning air was still chilly from the night. When Daryl walked out into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see you. He knew you were typically up earlier than others but not as early as him, not on days like this. You sat on the top of a picnic bench, feet planted where someone would typically sit. You faced away from Daryl but he could see the puff of smoke that typically followed you.

He could tell you weren’t in your typical nature. Despite the circumstances, you typically kept yourself put together. You wore a black long-sleeve fitted to your body and a pair of old gray sweatpants. Your hair was untamed and frizzy, having not been brushed yet. What had you up this early? What had you out of your cell so disheveled? And obviously, in such a rush?

The drag of the cigarette burned the back of your throat. It wasn’t as if you actually enjoyed smoking them. They tasted bad, itched your throat, and the smoke made your eyes water. But it felt as if holding them stopped your hands from shaking so badly every morning. It didn’t. But you’d keep lying to yourself and saying it did. You had woken up from another devilish dream, jolting you awake with a rapid heart and heavy breathing.

Typically you’d sit on the edge of your bed, head in your hands until your heart rate returned to normal. But on this particular morning, you couldn’t sit any longer in those walls, feeling the tightness of their build.

“Mornin.” He greeted you. What was he doing? Why was he even over here? Daryl’s mind ran with thoughts and questions as he awkwardly disrupted your own running mind.

You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Someone disrupting you at this time wasn’t expected. As soon as Daryl saw the harsh glare hit your features, he regretted his decision. He didn’t know what to say to you or what he was doing. Both of your heads turned at the sound of a door shutting, Carol lugging a big pot over to the serving table.

“Carol’s gonna start setting up soon…if ya wanna get outta here.” Your eyes followed Carol for a second before meeting Daryl’s.

Daryl had never seen you face to face, he’d never even spoken a word to you. Your initial glare wore off your face and you gave Daryl a single nod, standing up from the bench. Daryl caught his bottom lip and nervously chewed at it. “M’going…out” Daryl pointed in the direction of the woods, “If ya wanna come.” You glanced between Daryl and the woods and thought for a second before giving him a proper nod.

“Alright. I’ll wait for ya at the gate with my bike.”

It didn’t take long for you to meet Daryl. You’d switched your pants out with jeans and your bare feet with boots. Accompanied with your backpack and a pair of fingerless gloves to fight the chilly morning. You had obviously run a comb through your hair as well.

Daryl appreciated the space you gave him on the bike. You sat an inch or two back, your arms loose around him. Typically when people rode with him they held on tight, maybe a little too tight and too close for Daryl’s comfort, but you didn’t. A steady routine had been built between you and the archer after that morning. Along with a growing friendship.

Carol had picked up on this growing routine. By the fourth day, she began waking up even earlier, packing both of you lunches and a snack as if she were a mother sending her children to school.

The first few days your silence made Daryl uneasy. But soon, he actually began to enjoy your company. He even enjoyed your silence. It came in handy when he was tracking a deer or bunny.

The two of you had created your own language of looks, touches, and whistles. One morning you had gotten separated from Daryl while tracking and the song of the whistle was born.

The once colorful leaves were now a dirty brown and crunched awfully loud when you stepped on them. The early Fall months were slowly becoming even colder which meant being on the lookout for anything edible became far more important. Especially meat. Daryl had begun to teach you how to track on your own, which meant the two of you could cover more ground on the same hunt.

Your footsteps were steady and quiet, your eyes trained on the consistent tussle of the leaves. There was a specific herd of deer that had been on Daryl’s radar that he’d spotted a few mornings ago. Daryl walked a few feet behind you, checking that the tracks you eyed were accurate.

The leaves began to blend together, and the steady path you found was now lost from your sight. You kneeled down and dug the leaves away from the ground hoping the tracks would be embedded in the dirt. But the ground was too cold and dense to be marked with anything. It was when you turned to face Daryl and accept your defeat that he was no longer there.

A sense of panic seized through you. Your eyes scanned around the surrounding tree lines for a sign of his silhouette but you saw none. You’re fine, you told yourself, but the comfort Daryl’s presence provided was now gone and you were beginning to spiral. You didn’t know these woods well and you didn’t know your way back to the prison from here.

Out of sheer desperation, you brought your lips together and let out a two-tone whistle. You gave it a second of silence and just as you were about to repeat, a long one-tone whistle replied back. Daryl quickly came back through an opening in the trees looking as if he had run back to you. His eyes were filled with panic. “Ya alright?” You nodded, seeing him again immediately put you at ease. “M’sorry. Found the tracks, they go off this way.”

Daryl spent a lot of time studying you. It wasn’t intentional…but he couldn’t help but pay attention to every detail. He knew when something was on your mind by the way you dazed off more or the more cigarettes you smoked. Or the way you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirts and jackets. He understood the different expressions on your face and what every one of them meant. You expressed yourself a lot through your eyebrows and eyes. No matter what expression, your eyes were always filled with such sadness. You never smiled. Even on days when Daryl felt good and felt as if he was going to have some major breakthrough, you never did.

Daryl enjoyed what he’d built with you over these last few months but his mind and body were becoming restless. He yearned for you, he yearned to know you. It was like being covered head to toe in mosquito bites. And then someone tying your hands so you’d never be able to scratch them. He wanted to hear your voice and he wanted to see you smile. He told himself that if he ever got to hear you laugh, he’d start praying and going to the prison chapel.

He realized he’d never even seen your teeth before, though it was an odd thought, it would be added to the pile of things that itched and irritated.

Then there were the other thoughts. The bites that itched but also ached and throbbed. He wanted you to sit closer to him on the bike and he wanted your arms tight around his torso. He wanted to hold your hands and stop them from shaking in the morning. He wanted to keep you close after running away from a hoard.

Daryl had spent his time dissecting you like a frog in science class.

Now, he had grown impatient of dissecting. He’d never wanted anyone how desperately he wanted you. You were his sweet tooth craving, you were his stomach-decaying hunger, and you were his fucking mosquito bite. But despite all of Daryls itches and desires, he'd never try to change you. He'd never push you out of the comfort of your silence though he would always be waiting.

The time spent with Daryl had put a piece of you at ease. You’d had grown a special attachment while Daryl had practically sewn you to his hip. The only time you weren’t with him was when it came time to shower or sleep.

You met Daryl every morning at the gate, ready to go wandering amongst the trees or scavenging. Some day's you made it back in time to catch lunch together. Especially if you had an early morning catch and had to get back before the meat went rancid. Most days, you'd find a quiet and safe spot to eat the lunch Carol packed and made it back to the prison before sunset and dinner.

There was peace in this routine...but you couldn't live in this routine forever. There were other duties that needed attention around the prison. The early morning adventures had become less but the time together never changed.

When you weren't enjoying the company of Daryl, you enjoyed the company of the garden. And when it was too late in the day for either of those things, you read books about the garden and thought about Daryl. You learned what crops could be grown in the winter and then looked for their seeds in old gardening stores...with Daryl.

Some, Most, Every night you thought of him. You thought of all the things he'd taught you, of his patience with you, and all the stories he told to fill the air. He'd tell you stories of him and Merle. You wanted to tell him that you knew Merle. That when the Governor locked you away, Merle would come visit you and sneak you food. That he was kind to you despite being such a prick to everyone else.

But no matter how much time and peace Daryl provided, the nightmares never left you. You still woke up with shaky hands and a racing mind and memories of your brother. Although you did cut the habit of reaching for a cigarette. Mainly because your pack was running low and it was becoming impossible to find any more.

Unknowing to you, Daryl had been finding them while scavenging and hiding them in spots you didn't look.

You grabbed the carrot at its very base and pulled it from the soft dirt, a soft snap following. The gloves that kept your fingers from freezing were covered in mud and bits of green. It had rained in the night which made the ground perfectly soft to harvest produce. So, instead of going out this morning, you and Daryl were in the gardens. Well, Daryl followed you to the gardens and wouldn't leave.

"This one alright?" Daryl held up a cabbage with his own gloved hand only a few feet away. You glanced over and gave him a approving nod. He tossed it into the basket that already held a mixture of carrots, celery, and fresh herbs for Carol's cabbage soup.

Carol had become less of a bother to you. In fact, you'd actually created a swift routine with her. You read and researched the books about plants and gardening while she read the ones about cooking. You were the farmer while she got to play Martha Stewart.

"How's it going you two?" Rick and Carol approached the gardens with a little extra pep in their step. The rain fall had made this winter day chillier which meant everyone was bundling up and multiple fires were lit in the courtyard and cell blocks for warmth. "S'alright!" Daryl shouted as he fought with a carrot that seemed to be deep rooted in the ground. From your kneeling position on the ground, you watched Daryl with amusement as he struggled. You would’ve thought that carrot was as big as a egg plant with all his pull and tug.

“You got it Pookie?” Carol teased, Rick and her both getting their own dose of amusement. “M’fine.” With one last pull, the carrot popped from the dirt. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’” Daryl held up the carrot, it was about the size of his thumb. You heard Rick and Carol have their own set of laughter, “Maybe you should stick to huntin’ those deer.” Rick said between a few chuckles. Daryl scoffed and tossed the baby carrot into the basket, as he kneeled down to continue picking, he caught your expression.

It was so small he could’ve missed it but he didn’t and he was so glad he hadn’t. You looked back down towards the dirt, a smirk tugging up the corners of your lips and poking your cheeks, dimpling them. For a second, it felt as if someone had punched Daryl in the chest. But it was there just as fast as it was gone.

From that moment on, Daryl wanted nothing more than to feel that again…as did you. You felt foolish. There was this awful gnawing inside you that was telling you every day what you already knew within your heart. He was chipping away at every wall you’d built up and beginning to break down the wall to a very soft spot of you. You had begun to feel like a turtle removed from its shell. Mushy, sensitive, and vulnerable. Gross.

"Hey Y/n!" The youngest Greene girl greeted. The community of the prison had begun to warm up to you. They no longer avoided you like the plague opting to actually say "hello" or "good morning" or maybe even a "goodnight." It had become very well known the closeness Daryl and you held and if people knew, people talked.

You looked up from your current book to Beth standing in the doorway of your cell clutching a small pile of tan books to herself. "Can I..come in?" She awkwardly shuffled her feet farther in and adjusted the books, you nodded. Beth let the curtain that covered your doorway drop and happily took a seat on your bed. You sat up straight and set your book of, Wildflowers Of All Seasons, on the bed beside you. While you adjusted yourself, Beth seemed to be studying your room.

It was more decorated than she had imagined. Your cell was on the upper level, one down from Daryl's. You had a very small wooden nightstand beside your bed that had various half-melted candles. Their wax dripped down the sides and embedded itself into the wood. On the wall across from your bed stood a very slim wooden table.

It was decorated with different trinkets and bottles you'd scavenged, a zippo lighter, and a stack of your growing book collection. Shoved underneath was a wire basket that held all your clothes. Your only 2 pairs of boots and bookbag sat beside it. Your everyday black, fleece-lined jacket was hung off the pole of your bed.

"I found these in the library and thought you might like them." Beth laid out the books on your bed, making it a point to show you every single one of them. Peterson - Field Guide to... They all read. They were very small and slim, a pale shade of tan, with various illustrations on the front pertaining to the title. Perfect to slip into your bag.

"I thought they'd be nice for you to carry when you go out in the mornings." Beth watched as you examined each book, "I wanted to grab them for you before anyone else found 'em." Beth held a very innocent hopeful smile the whole time she spoke to you but your silence was causing her to become uneasy. You picked up a specific one, Field Guide to Animal Tracks. You looked up at the girl and gave her a thin-lipped smile to show your appreciation.

A wide smile formed on her face and she left with a very sweet "Goodnight."

Glenn relieved Daryl from watch tower duty later than expected. It had to of been close to midnight when he got back to his cell. As he walked by your cell, he carefully peeled back your green curtain to check on you. You were a restless sleeper, Daryl heard you almost every night tossing and turning or waking up with a jolt.

Most of your features were concealed by the darkness but from what was visible, you appeared to be in a peaceful sleep. There was a veil of softness to you when you slept. A softness and calmness that never graced you during waking hours. He knew it wouldn’t last very long but he wanted to ensure that at least right now, you were okay. But he could not stand and watch all night. He felt creepy enough.

Daryl noticed the little tan book sitting on his bed as soon as he pulled back his curtain. The moonlight slightly gleamed off the sleek shiny cover. Field Guide to Animal Tracks. As Daryl flipped the book open to its title page, he felt his ears and cheeks warm up. Thankfully the darkness concealed his cheeky smile.

To Daryl. Not like you need it. - Y/n.

The group of deer that Daryl had spotted a month ago was still high on his radar. Though he still had yet to actually catch any of them.

The cabbage soup was still hot in your thermal, emitting a cloud of steam when you popped off the lid. You and Daryl sat in each other's company in your typical spot. A large tree had fallen down just at the entrance to a clearing in the woods providing a perfect resting spot. Had it been Spring or Summer you could only imagine the beauty of the green scenery. But this cold winter didn't provide much besides dry grounds, barren trees, and a frozen pond.

There was a peaceful silence that settled, as it always did. You both ate your soups and turned the pages of your books. Surprisingly, Daryl had actually learned a good bit from the book you gifted and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Ask ya something'?" You broke your concentration from your book and looked to Daryl. "Ya know why I started coming out here in the first place, right?"

You took a second to think before hesitantly nodding. "Ya never said anything." Daryl truly never understood why. He never hid it from you but still, you never asked questions. You didn't ask what the notes were on all the maps he had, never asked where you were going, or when you'd be back. But he always knew that you knew he wasn't just hunting deer, he was hunting the governor. "What would ya do...? If you ever got to him?"

Perhaps Daryl had pushed too far. Your head snapped back down to your book, though Daryl knew you weren't actually reading anymore. Your eyes were out of focus and your lips formed a frown. You had never taken the time to think about it. You just knew you wanted him to suffer.

Daryl hadn't spoken another word to you since lunch knowing he had poked at a very sensitive subject. "Wait here a second," Daryl said just as you made it back to his bike. He jogged back into the tree line leaving you sitting on the bike, awaiting his return. Daryl returned soon after, a cluster of bright yellow daffodils in hand. You gave him a puzzled glance but as he held out his hand and said, for you, you felt the urgency to cry. Your nose burning up with tingles and your eyes becoming glazed.

"Thought ya might like 'em, I saw them in your book earlier." Your hand gently took them from Daryl's and you stood still. Very still.

Daryl awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "They're uh...daffodils, right? Start bloomin' late January into March?" He had secretly been sneaking reads of your books over your shoulder. It was so fast it startled him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, every muscle in his body stiffened. Daryl was reluctant to hug you back but he gave into his heart and gently laid his arms around your torso. The large jackets you both wore proved to be a barrier from feeling the true touch of the other.

“Thank you.” Your words were raspy and just above a whisper. Had you not been so close, Daryl probably would’ve missed them. “Course.” His words were mumbled against your shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal. A low groan in the distance disrupted your short moment of peace, telling you it was about time to go.

The sun was beginning to set when Daryl’s bike rode up the gravel path to the prison. The smell of a brewing soup hit your nose as the two of you began to walk closer to the dining area. “Find a table, I gotcha.” Daryl’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a second longer than it typically did. Despite wearing such a thick layer of clothes, it was as if you could still feel his touch. Even after he was already at the serving table striking up a conversation with Carol.

You sat your pack down at the usual table. It was farthest to the left, farthest away from all the other tables. “Mind if we join you?” Glenn asked, he and Maggie both holding a steaming bowl. Just as you were about to take your own seat, a loud chuckle sounded snapping you around.

“Oh come on Y/n.” Two men had been walking past on their way to fetch their own dinners. You recognized them, they were commonly on wall duty at Woodbury. The taller one motioned to the flowers that poked out from the front pocket of your jacket. “You can’t be serious.” You could feel your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach. It was as if your body was preparing you for the merciless mocking that was sure to come.

“You’re telling me the Governor’s number one soldier is walking around with flowers in her pockets?”

Stop.

You wanted to say but the words became a ball in your throat. Your eyes darted off to the side. All of a sudden, you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands or how to stand properly on your feet. You knew the truth behind their “jokes”.

You are not soft. You are not delicate. You are not loveable.

“The hell are ya doin?” Daryl had practically appeared out of thin air, putting himself between you and the men. You saw this as an opportunity to make an escape for your cell block.

“We were just teasing man. We were friends in Woodbury, just joking around.” They still had slimy smirks on their faces that only poked Daryl even more.

Daryl was fuming. “Didn’t look like she was fucking laughin’.” He took a step closer. “She never fucking laughs!” Before Daryl could unleash his fiery rage, Rick intervened. Rick beckoned Daryl to walk away, mumbling that everyone was looking. “Hell if I care.” Daryl snapped swinging his arm in the air. He turned on his boot and snatched up your pack that you’d left behind before going off to find you.

Daryl hadn’t found you in any of your traditional spots. He checked your cell, the library, the garden, and even the showers. He asked everyone he walked past if they’d seen you but no one had, it was as if you just vanished. And the thought of that was throwing Daryl into a deep pit.

The prison chapel had been restored and decorated by Carol to be used for the grieving prison folk. She had put as many candles as possible on a long wooden table. They had been burned and replaced so frequently that the wax dripped down the sides of the table and dropped dots on the floor. There were many different pictures of lost family members or lovers littering the table…it was quite depressing truthfully. The glow of the candles lit up the room and cast an orange glow on your sad features.

You didn’t look at Daryl as he sat down beside you.

“Didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.”

It was an odd thing…to hear you speak so openly but Daryl wasn’t opposed. “I just…” Your voice was hoarse and low, as low as a whisper. “I find this a way to be with my brother.” Daryl had gotten so used to silence that it almost startled him to hear so many words come from your lips. You shook back the hair that fell on your face and let out a deep sigh, resting your back flat against the wooden church pew. Daryl didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to scare your voice away, he just wanted to listen.

“I hope that doesn’t sound foolish.”

“It doesn’t.” Daryl shifted himself closer to you. “It doesn’t.” He repeated, his thigh pressed against yours. And for some reason, you felt the need to spill your guts. Perhaps being in a church would drag you to confess. “I-uhmm…I never fought against the prison. I refused to do any of it. I truthfully didn’t care if he killed me for it.” You didn’t have to explain yourself to Daryl but you felt the need to. If what you felt towards him was what you thought, you had to. “But, he just locked me in my room. Wouldn’t let me out.” Somehow, Daryl knew. He never saw you with the Governor, never saw you fighting. And when Rick told him the locked room he found you in, he pieced it together.

“Everything is true though. Everything they say about me, everything he made me do before that.”

Daryl didn’t care, he never had. Daryl cared that you didn’t want to. He cared about the fact that you were forced to. You shrugged your shoulders and looked off, “I’m as guilty as they come.”

Daryl couldn’t stand the sad look on your face, “Alright then…put yer hands behind yer back. I’ll take ya to your cell.” His joking manner caught you so off guard that a laugh escaped you. It was airy and gentle. He truly couldn’t believe it.

You laughed. And Daryl was in church.

Daryl returned to his serious demeanor to reassure you, “I care about how he hurt ya, Y/n. Don’t care what you did.”

Your eyes found Daryl’s in the dimly lit room and for a second you felt it, deep within your chest. And it ached and feared but it also loved. “Good.” You couldn’t fight the smile that squeezed your cheeks as you looked at him. Your eye contact broke allowing silence to welcome itself back. But only for a short time. “Daffodils are the birth flower of March…Jackson and I were born in March.”

After that night in the chapel, Daryl wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. It felt like his ears were filled with honey every time you spoke. It was raspy yet smooth with a hint of a southern drawl from growing up in Georgia. A thick rich honey that he wanted in a cup of hot tea and to take down his throat.

Winter was soon turning to Spring. The sky was bluer and most days the sun shined. The green of the grass and trees were returning. The garden was beginning to look even more promising come warmer weather. And just as the flowers were beginning to take bloom, so were you.

Your hard demeanor had softened, especially for Daryl. You still didn’t talk to many people besides him but you said a word or two when you wanted. Daryl took it upon himself to give Jackson a “grave” where the others were. It was just two pieces of wood, formed into a cross with his name carved in it, planted into the ground. “So that ya don’t have to go down to the chapel. Ya can be outside with him and the garden and stuff.” He had said when he showed you.

“It’s rotten work trying to find these deer.” You and Daryl strolled the wooded area, eyes on the deer tracks that embedded themselves in the dirt. Daryl shushed you and continued his concentration on the tracks. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. “I was rotten work…at the beginning.”

“Nah ya weren’t, not to me.” Daryl didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even turn look at you. He just continued walking ahead of you, following the tracks.

The two of you settled in your usual spot. Leaning against the fallen tree at the opening to the clearing in the woods. You were right about the clearing looking more beautiful in the warmth of Spring. The trees were plump with fresh green leaves and the water in the pond sparkled under the sunlight. The grass grew tall with a mixture of white and yellow wildflowers. Your fingers ran the edge of the book page as you turned it.

Your current book was, Field Guide to Medical Plants and Herbs. There was some type of cold floating around the prison and finding the medical supplies to treat it was sparse and you’d do anything you could to help.

Daryl was interrupted from tending to his bow by your elbow jabbing his side. Without looking at him, you held up a folded piece of paper and pen. Daryl gave you an odd glare before plucking them from your fingertips. You did this often. When you couldn’t be bothered to use your voice or if you didn’t want to break concentration from a book.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

Daryl could feel his heart begin to quicken its pace within his chest. He didn’t know what your words meant but at the same time, he did.

The folded paper got tossed back into your lap.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

Just then, a rustling sound sounded from within the trees from across the clearing. You gripped for your blade as Daryl grabbed for his bow. Two deers came through the trees, their white and tan tails flicking back and forth. You could’ve sworn you heard Daryl stop breathing for a second. Daryl slowly leaned up on his knees, bow in hand raising to his eye. Your eye caught it before Daryl’s did.

Another deer emerged from the trees, a fawn close behind her…and then another. “Don’t.” You brought your hand to Daryl’s bow and lowered it to point at the ground. He went to protest but when he saw the twin fawns happily nibbling at the tall grass, he stopped. It was a beautiful sight, as were you.

When your eyes broke away from the deers and to him, that’s when he decided. Daryl cupped your cheek lightly and met your lips with his. His lips were gone just as fast as they were there but his hand didn’t leave. He was still so close that your lips feathered his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down to you again.

What happened that day was never spoken of. But as Daryl sat in the darkness of the train cart in Terminus, he so deeply wish it had been.

But now, you were gone as was the prison. The look on your face, when the Governor stood outside the prison, was burned into Daryl’s eyelids. The way your chest heaved with anger, your hands shook with rage, and revengeful teary eyes stared off. The last he saw was you slipping out through the prison fence to go after him. Daryl yelled at you to not do it, to come with him, but you didn’t listen. You’d let yourself die if it meant you finally got your hands on him and Daryl knew it.

You could be dead. You could’ve died weeks ago fighting the Governor. You could be out there alone and starving and scared. Or you could be just fine. Daryl would never know.

When Terminus fell and he watched Rick cuddle and kiss Judith in his arms, he had a surge of hope. And when he saw Carol alive, he had more hope. As everyone said hello, it was as if he waited, waiting for you to magically appear. “Nobody has Y/n?” A deafening silence followed, quieter than you ever were. “Daryl…” Michonne stepped towards him. As he went to walk away, she stopped him placing a hand on rising his chest. “Darlyl. I’m not saying she didn’t make it. I’m just saying she didn’t look good.”

“Yeah? And you didn’t help her?” Daryl snapped shoving her hand off his chest. “Get off me.” Daryl seethed with hot tears in his icy blue eyes. It became an unspoken rule to not speak your name around him.

Your hand pressed firmly on the wound that oozed blood down your side as you limped your way into the cell block. Your right side was stained in the crimson color, all the way down to the knee of your jeans. You strained and let out a groan of pain as you took a step up the stairs that led to your cell. You didn’t need to look at yourself to know you looked awful. The walkers that completely ignored your existence when you limped by them told you enough.

Your entire torso throbbed in pain. The bruising from the kicks you took to the stomach were forming and it felt impossible to move. Your head felt like tv static and you had an undying desire to sleep. But you couldn’t. You likely had a concussion and knew that if you slept now, you wouldn’t be getting back up. Besides, you had to find Daryl. There was a hope that he’d stayed in the area and you’d find him if you just looked. You knew the woods around here well, you could find him. He was waiting for you, he had to be.

In your fuzzy state of mind, you threw whatever you touched into your pack. You changed out of ruined clothes and into clean ones. When the collar of your shirt dragged down your face, you let out a whimper of pain as it got caught on your bottom lip. There was a cut that dragged from the under your left nostril, across the left corner of your lips, and ended at the bottom of your chin.

It became a blur how you left your cell safely and ended up on the path Daryl and you walked every morning. You had to get to your spot. The spot with the fallen tree and clearing. Daryl would wait for you there. You were sure of it. When you got there and he wasn’t there, it was okay, you told yourself. You just had to wait for him.

You lowered yourself to the ground, a few whimpers of pain escaping your lips. With your back resting against the tree and arm draped over your mid section, you slipped into unconscious. You awoke to the sound of a man’s voice. “Hey, hey.” He said trying to wake you but your eyelids were too heavy to lift and you felt the weight of every muscle in your body. “Heath! Go tell Laura to bring the car around. We gotta take her back.”

“It’s a ten hour drive back Aaron, you think she’s gonna make it?”

“I don’t know.”

You awoke with a slight jolt. Your chest heaved with heavy breathes as your eyes dilated to the bright and unfamiliar room. Your body ached but the softness of the mattress you laid on seemed to comfort it. “Pete, go get Deanna.” Aaron instructed, sitting up in his seat next to your bedside. Your eyes wandered the room, trying to figure out where you were. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re in the infirmary in a community called Alexandria.” You looked to the man that sat to your right. He had a very kind face and gentle eyes. His clothes were perfectly clean and his curly brown hair was freshly washed and fluffy.

“Myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast to look for survivors to bring here.” Aaron clarified further, “We found you and brought you back, you were in really bad shape…you still…you still kind of are.”

Aaron could see the confusion and panic drawn on your face. Your head snapped to the door when you heard footsteps on the polished wood floors. “Hi” Deanna gently said approaching your bedside. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What’s your name?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, your mind still wasn’t clear, and you had no clear memory of the last three days. “Y/n” You finally replied, voice hoarse and raspy. Deanna smiled at you, “Where am I?” You asked finally finding your voice. Deanna and Aaron exchanged a glance, “You’re in a safe community called Alexandria in Virginia.”

Virginia?

You could feel your world begin to tumble, a thousand thoughts racing your mind. You were so far away from Georgia. You were away from home. Away from Daryl. “No.” You attempted to pull yourself out of the bed but were stopped by Aaron softly holding you back. “No, no, no.” You repeated and dropped your head down into your hands as panicked sobs racked your chest. “Pete! Go get her something to calm down.”

You didn’t want pills to help calm down. You wanted to go home. You wanted to be with him. You sat yourself up in the bed despite the pain in your torso telling you not to. “Daryl?” You asked Deanna. She could see the desperation in your teary eyes, “I’m sorry we only found you.”

Aaron sat up from the dirt floor of the barn after Rick had knocked him unconscious. Rick’s group continuously went back and forth with one another debating their plan. Once they finally decided and everyone was being assigned a position, Rick turned to Daryl. “Daryl, go keep an eye-“

“Wait, Daryl?” Aaron interrupted Rick’s order from his spot on the floor. He felt everyone’s eyes on him in an instant. “Daryl Dixon, right? Y-you knew an Y/n?” Daryl stomped over to Aaron and gripped him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. “How the hell ya know Y/n?” Daryl’s tone was threatening yet shaky. Aaron knew if he didn’t start talking he’d end up back on the floor.

“She’s in Alexandria, she lives with me, she’s safe! A-a little over a month ago, myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast looking for survivors. We found her in the woods down in Georgia.” Aaron took a pause, “She was in really bad shape, we brought her back and she’s been there ever since.”

“She talks about you all the time.” Daryl’s hand shook around the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, his eyes studied his face trying to find any indicator that he was lying. ”I don’t fuckin’ believe ya.” The thought of you being alive and safe comforted Daryl but he wouldn’t so easily believe a stranger. “I’m not lying, I swear.” Aaron frantically said, “She-she gave me something to give to you. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

Daryl shoved Aaron back to the ground with a thud. Rick tossed Aaron’s bag to Daryl, practically tearing off the zipper getting into it. Daryl’s unsteady hands pulled out the familiar small tan book. As he flipped open to the title page, he read the words you’d written to another that day.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

As Daryl read the new words you’d written, he could feel the lump forming in his throat.

It was easier to die than to say them.

“I probably should’ve led with that, huh?” Aaron joked attempting to lighten the mood. Rick’s gruff voice responded, “Shut up.”

The sun shined in Alexandria despite the rainstorm that came through the night before. You found yourself where you always were, in the gardens. The heavy rain had bent many of the plants out of shape and the raised wooden garden beds were flooded. The mixture of water and grass squelched under your boots as you examined the damage. With a deep sigh, you pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket along with a zippo lighter. It wasn’t a habit you proudly picked back up. But after the fall of the prison and Daryl no longer being there to help you, it found its way back.

You tilted your head up to the sky and blew the smoke from your lips. You closed your eyes and let the sunlight cast its rays onto your face. And as you did, you tried to imagine that you were standing in the garden of the prison again. That Daryl stood only a few feet away, fighting with a vegetable, and cursing as he did.

“Hey Y/n.”

Spencer disrupted your daydream, standing a few feet away and calling out your name. “Sorry,” He jokingly held up his hands in surrender, “Aaron’s back, he asked for you at the gate.” Aaron had returned to Alexandria several times over the past month with new faces. Every time you’d go to the gate and wait for him to return, your heart full of hope. But every time the same disappointment rained down on you. It was never who you wanted, it was never him. So, when Aaron told you about a group he’d been tracking and trying to bring back, you didn’t care to listen. You saved my ass and now you think you can save everyone? You said to him a few nights ago.

“Going.” You replied bluntly. You wouldn’t allow your hopes to grow just to be smashed into pieces. Your eyes were on the ground as you walked to the front gate, cigarette dangling from your lips, and hair falling in your face. Spencer talked his jaw off beside you, every word he spoke going in one ear and out the other. But the sound of a familiar whistle vibrating against your eardrums perked your head up in an instant.

You tossed your cigarette from your mouth and found your way back to him. Daryl met you halfway, his arms desperately pulling you in close. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, feeling his shaky breaths on the skin of your own. Your hair was soft and smelled of shampoo. Daryl grasped the fabric of your shirt that smelled ever so slightly of cigarettes.

When Daryl pulled away to look at you, he finally saw the fresh scar drawn on your lips. He wanted to scold you. To tell you how foolish you'd been to go after the Governor alone. "Ya got him?" Was all he could bring himself to ask. You avoided answering but you nodded, "Come on, I wanna go see everyone else."

Despite the group still not fully trusting Alexandria, they felt more at ease knowing you’d been kept safe here. After helping Rick settle the group into the Alexandrian homes, you sat on the front porch with Daryl. Daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight for a second. Everything you did and every where you went, he was there. Besides when Carol shoved him away to shower.

The two of you passed back and forth a lit cigarette, comfortable in the silence of the night air. “Tara asked me about the Governor.” Your words were quiet just incase anyone were listening. Daryl looked to you. “Yeah?” With a deep sigh, you blew the smoke from your mouth. “Yeah…asked what he did to me.”

Daryl could see the way the thought of it dragged your lips into that familiar frown. “Told her I didn’t wanna make her guilty conscious even worse.” You said it as if it was meant to be a joke but Daryl saw through it. “It’s gettin late.” Daryl begin to break you from those thoughts. He was right. The sun had set about an hour ago and everyone was setting up their beds for the night.

“Ya ah….Ya gonna go home?” Daryl didn’t want you to leave, he never wanted to be without you again. “I am home.” There was no hesitation in your reply. Daryl’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant. “Ain’t what I meant.” You stood from your spot and reached a hand out to him, “Come with me.” Daryl glanced between your hand and your eyes. The night was dark and the porch light dim but you could see the rosy color blotch at his cheeks. You lightly kicked his foot with your own, “Just wanna show you where I’ve been staying.”

Your room was in the fully furnished basement of Aaron and Eric’s home. Aaron had welcomed you in, knowing you couldn’t be on your own in your condition. The stairs were on the farthest right wall of the basement, leading you down into a lounge like area with tan carpet and white walls. An L shaped leather couch sat in front of a, now useless, flat screen TV. Past the couch, on the back wall, stood two white doors. Daryl presumed behind one of them laid your bedroom.

You walked him over to the left door and pushed it open. There was nothing special about your room. Simply a bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bookshelf in the corner. You sat at the foot of your bed, Daryl took it as a sign to do the same. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Your voice was just above a whisper, avoiding his eyes when you spoke. “I should’ve looked harder for him…I shouldn’t of gotten so distracted.” Your head hung low in shame, “I should’ve talked about that day..in the woods.” The dimly lit room hid the tears that fell from your eyes. “I should’ve said everything I wanted to say.”

“We should’ve.” Daryl corrected you, stopping all your blabbering. Your watery eyes met his with a look of confusion. “Everythin’ ya said. I was there too. S’not all your fault Y/n.” The impact of Daryl’s words made you go quiet. “Ain’t yer fault what he did to you either.”

“I love you.”

Daryl had never shut his mouth so fast in his life. You weren’t sure where your outburst of confidence came from but you didn’t regret it. You accepted it every waking day and every sleepless night you were apart from him. “Nah, ya don’t.” Daryl rejects your confession at the grace of his own insecurity. Your hands raise themselves to his face, a stern look gracing your features. “I have since the prison.”

Daryl didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and the warmth from your hand on his cheek. You gently lean in before connecting your lips with his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his own. If you had just ruined everything Daryl and you had, you at least wanted to bask in his presence one last time. “I love ya too.” Daryl leaned back in, capturing your lips in his.

The night you’d spent together was full of gentle touches and whispers. The only time silence happened was the sleep bestowed upon you afterwards. Your bedroom was dimly lit come morning time. The only windows in your room were up towards the ceiling, just above ground level. For the first time since Jackson died, you woke up peacefully. No panic attack awaiting you, no need to run away and fill your lungs with smoke. Feelings of the night before returned to your mind, memories in vivid detail. Daryl awoke when he felt the movement of the sheet from beside him.

With your back turned to him, Daryl took it upon himself to graze the skin of your bare back with his fingertips. He caught a glance at the deep scarring along your side. The gash had turned into a raised, dark pink, bruised color on your skin. Daryl could see shadow of lines covering its length from the stitches that had held it together.

As his fingertips traveled down, they stopped on another scar. The left side of your lower back was imbedded with the letter “G”. The scarring of the initial raised your skin, though it wasn’t pink and bruised like the other. It had healed to a shade paler than your skin tone. Daryl simply couldn’t believe it. Fucking bastard.

“Branding iron.” You begin, voice slightly rasp from sleep. “Never did it to anyone else…just me.” Daryl’s hand fell from your back, “Come here.” You reluctantly did so, turning to face him. His hand found the side of your face that didn’t rest on the plush pillow. His facial expression’s became serious but his eyes remained gentle. “Ain’t gonna let no one treat you like that ever again. Ya feel like someone breathes around ya the wrong way, you tell me alright?” You playfully rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile forming but you still replied “Alright.”

Daryl thumb drug along your bottom lip, stopping at the pale scar. “Promise ya won’t ever stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“…Bein’ happy.”

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A/n: I've proof read this over and over so I hope everyone is able to enjoy it and theres no mistakes! If anyone would like to submit a request, feel free too. If it's a project i'd be willing to take on, I will try my best to get to it.

[lovingjingyuan]

Hi!! I've been reading your first for awhile and I think you're such a great writer and I was wondering if I could request a yandere Sunday/welt/jingyuan/blade where the reader has depression and how they'd handle it? You could add anything you like :) thank you!

Thank you sm for the compliment. I'm so glad someone enjoys my works <333 Tbh I don't find my writing good cuz my English isn't so good for writing ;-; also when i writing this on google docs it was like 7 pages long.

Warning: 2.7K words, A bit affectionate in Jing Yuan and Aventurines part, manipulation, abuse of power, gaslighting, emotional abuse,

Info at bottom

Pairing: (Yandere) Sunday, Welt, Jing Yuan, Blade, Aventurine x Reader

Sunday Sunday wouldn't be able to handle it well, but instead, he would unintentionally cause further damage to your mental state. It’s elusive getting you to cooperate with his subjectives. He couldn’t quite bring himself to understand why you aimlessly slumber like this, showing little to no affection and he deluges you with this subjective perfect life. You were in a gilded cage ornate into a display of artwork, but to Sunday you’ll always be that vulnerable bird, needing guidance and protection. He couldn’t grasp the idea of why you still yearn for freedom when he can provide you with everything you desire.

You reminded Sunday of the time when he and his sister Robin once took a weak bird under their wing. The bird is like you; too weak and vulnerable for this cruel reality. Yet, his subjective never appealed to your line of reasoning. To you, people are meant to make their own choices and yearn for the touch of freedom. But to him the weak must be helped and preserved by the strong and by that you’re weak. 

Instead of offering you normal support and seeking treatment for you he would isolate you further, making watch of your every movement and ensuring you’re always in his presence every second. 

To Sunday he couldn’t just let you go now, not after all his sacrifices and efforts to hold you captive in his presence. He started to lie and twisted his thoughts into believing that this is the only path to achieve mutual happiness and to ensure your safety. Yet, it further broke him even though you refuse to make and remain apathetic with him. Your constant depression and lack of motivation left him feeling adrift. You rarely are able to take care of yourself anymore leaving him completely lost.

All he can hope is for you to develop Stockholm syndrome. He prays that your depression and lack of happiness will lead you to believe he’s the only one who can mend the wounds on your heart, filling any empty void. 

“Please stop lying on the bed. You’ve been there all day. You know that’s far from healthy and will only worsen your state,” he silently pleaded with you hoping by any miracle you would follow through. This constant isolation he put you through has been driving both you and him mad. But in the end, you lost all light in you. No longer able to plead with him any further for salvation.  

You can just simply close your eyes falling further back into nihility. 

“Please, my dear, you can't keep doing this to me… to yourself-”

‘I’m fine, ' you snapped. How his heart ached at your indifference.

“No, you’re not okay. Your behavior is absolutely absurd!” he remained unfalter on the edge of the bed next to you. Sunday’s mind ran blink on ways to save you from deluging any further in depression. He could release you, but he’s scared the moment he does. You would leave him forever like the bird he and his sister raised.

He leaned in, brushing your hair aside to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. He will continue to keep you here with him indefinitely, trying to keep his own sanity intact as well as yours. He only remains resolute to keep you here with him, refusing to open his eyes and acknowledge his wrongdoings.

“It’s not a sin. I’m doing this for the greater good.”

I believe Yandere Sunday is just manipulative in wanting to keep you, he’s no sadist but I also believe he cares a whole lot about his public image which is now RUINED! Sunday would be a good lover if you comply or not obsessed over you. Sunday would be the type to say, "Oh my days." :)

Welt During his lifetime Welt had witnessed a lot and many tragedies. Despite his knowledge and understanding of the consequences of his actions, he couldn’t suppress his urges when it came to you. Welt always made sure to keep a watchful eye over you, safeguarding you from any troubles. He would usually spend a lot of his time watching over you and observing any anomalous behavior from you. 

One sudden day he started noticing you developing odd behaviors and your daily schedule becoming a trouble. You also started to develop a habit of dissociating away from your peers, he was no exception. This unusual behavior disturbs him because it meant he can’t keep a close eye on you. 

Now I feel how he’ll handle this can go two ways: He seeks immediate professional help for you OR tries to handle this situation himself. The reason why Welt would try to handle this situation himself is to prevent you from becoming self-aware. To Welt, becoming self-aware poses a challenge to him as you’re more aware and knowledgeable of your surroundings and who is around you. He would do everything in his power to leave you clueless and thoughtless towards your surroundings so you don’t become aware of any manipulation he inflicted on you in the past.

Manipulation such as convincing you to stay with the Astral Express by his side 24/7. Welt truly cares about you and needs to see you heal. To him you’re the light in the room full of darkness in his heart. Every time you smile, laugh even when you’re clumsy or mess up he can’t help but smile, feeling relaxed near your presence. Even if you're not the brightest person you still light and warm up his heart. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, raising a brow as the bottom of his cane taps the floor behind you. Deep down he knows the answer and urges you to tell him the truth, finding comfort in his presence like he does in yours. 

“I’m alright,” you intensity waiver him away.

Unfazed by your response, he persisted, “You really don’t need to pretend, around me.”

If you do manage to admit and confess your feelings he would categorize it as depression. Welt will immediately try and cheer you up, letting March, Dang Heng and Stelle; his trusted companions around you. He will try every day to lift your spirits even letting you choose where to go for the next trailblazing expeditions. 

Welt attempts to educate himself more on the topic of depression, so he can create a safe environment for you. Although he might not exactly provide professional help he will solve it ethically.

Lol I can't see Welt keeping you captive. He would probably pressure you or convince you to join the Astral Express so he can keep a close eye on you. He's very careful when being possessive over you. Himeko and Dan Heng can catch on quickly so he would try to make you fall in love with him.

Jing Yuan Jing Yuan, a high achieving General, a man who no one can hate personally, aged over 600 years and has experience of yearning over the dead and betrayals. As he watched you drift into the endless abyss of sadness he could not help but share in your sorrow. All he truly wanted for you was your happiness and safety, including your undying love and attention. 

Yet this draining illness simply wouldn’t allow that for you. Jing Yuan is a man who is willing to go to extreme lengths in pursuit of your happiness which only he should be the one serving. Yet under one condition, he’s willing to do things that go against your happiness just so he can satisfy his impulsive desires. 

“I love you so so much. Please don’t be sad,” he murmured softly into your eyes, biting down gently on the top of your ears, which sent shivers down your body in a sensual way. He twirls the end of your hair with his fingers holding you against his embrace.

You continue to stare out into the distance, while his fingers play with the ends of your hair.

“If there’s anything you must need…. Please,” he implored in your ears from behind. The warm breath on your neck, “Tell me. I care about you and you know that.” his arms wrap around your waist telling you you’re all for him alone, all while he nuzzles his head against your shoulders. His white fluffy strands of hair tickle up against your cheekbone. 

If you ever found yourself in his custody and requested freedom, he would by all means exploit rapid, white little lies. 

"Recently, there have been reports of numerous mara-struck soldiers on the loose. 36 tragedies have resulted from these mara strikes," he warns, emphasizing the fake danger outside. "Luofu might need to go into lockdown, so it's safest for you to stay here with me."

He soon begins to take into account your condition growing rapidly worse. Your depression started to overtake your everyday life. That’s when he knew this was severe. Although sometimes delusional, he does take into account his mistakes. 

“I arranged us a date, a vacation even! It’s been many years since I left Luofu for anything other than urgent matters.”

You smiled and nodded profusely in agreement. This smile and small action deluges his heart with warm sweet love <3 How his heart jumps and flutters like a butterfly because of you. If you don’t get any better he will hire and get you an appointment with the best psychologist. 

Jing Yuan just wants the best for you wholeheartedly and truly. If he does kidnap and detain you, it’s because of his impulsive actions to keep you for himself. There will be no other 4th betrayal or the 4th person to pay the price. 

Blade Blade’s cold demeanor and sharp eyes were enough to sway anyone away; he never believed himself capable of love or being a good partner in general. Some people in this cosmos were simply not cut out to be in a relationship, or so he believed since his journey began with the thought of death lingering in his mind. 

Yingxing would have been a more suitable man in a relationship, but Blade? He doubts on the idea of love and interest. Yet, when he laid eyes on you he couldn’t ignore the strange stinging of an electric sensation in his heart. He wanted to delve deeper into this unusual sensation he was feeling. Although he knew he could never truly reveal himself.

Who wouldn’t recognize a man whose bounty is worth 8.13 billion credits? At least he has a good credit score unlike me (╥﹏╥) Blade slowly started by stalking you, falling deeper into the spiral of love and obsession. He knew with his records you could never reciprocate his feelings.

He restored to drastic measures, keeping you in his custody. It’s difficult to say he’ll treat you top-notch. Being under his care seemed more like a physiological experiment. Providing you with basic needs while expecting obedience, as if conducting an experiment. 

Blade never once will lay a hand on you, raise his voice at you, only expressing annoyance through small grunts and groans. However, the isolation drove you quickly to the brink of insanity. Every day, waking up to a meal, lack of interaction; he would simply stare down at you as you chew on the food he provided. You even lack social interaction with your kidnapper. The daily routine went on, like a trap in an asylum. 

His cold gaze lingered on you, studying your every move, all while silently making mental notes of your behavior. If you did fall into depression he wouldn’t recognize it immediately, attributing it to your natural state or how you express disappointment.

Every tear shed or harsh remark towards him is met with silent observation, perceiving it as a natural reaction. Only when severe signs startsd occurring; refusing to eat or neglecting basic hygiene, did Blade acknowledge something was amiss.

He attempts to coax you with better-tasting meals, even dessert. If you die from starvation how else will he get the same sensation he feels when around you? This strange sensation in his heart is much more desirable than death.

“Eat it, you mustn’t starve yourself,” he says nonchalantly, placing a bowl of Mapo Tofu and a small portion of rice before you.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Eat it.”

“No.”

Blade shot you a deadly glare, his intimidation palpable, urging you to reluctantly pick up the chopstick. Blade’s method or strange way of love worsens your condition. I think with Blade you probably wouldn’t relieve yourself from the chains of depression. Yet I also do believe Blade will try to understand your mental state yet fail.

If Blade were to love; he would start by, placing a hand on your shoulders and gently massaging your shoulder blade as you ate. The thought of Blade saying “I love You,” seems inconceivable, but he’d probably say it underneath his breath.

“Do now dwell in longingness for too long,” he muttered against your ears, perhaps the most motivational phrase he said to you since the decline in your mental state began. Although he won’t admit upfront he loves and feels affection toward you, his demeanor is more relaxed around you and his sharp intense eyes soften at your presence. 

How to help a depressed person 101: The reader is Blade trying to figure out what’s causing you this and how to help you. 

Aventurine From the moment Aventurine first laid eyes on you, he knew exactly what he wanted for the rest of his life. He had always felt most alive when gambling at high stakes, but being near you brought a sensation even more profound; a mix of obsession and love washed over him. 

When you begin to struggle with depression, Aventurine tries everything to lift up your spirits by lavishing you with extravagant gifts, hoping they would bring you happiness. Yet the joy was only ephemeral and wasn’t what he truly desired. What he craved was not only your happiness but also your love and affection.

He couldn’t bring it into words but, your presence was like an addictive drug he constantly craved for. His dopamine goes crazy near you, almost exploding his brain. There was something about you that he yearned to possess and preserve for himself.

“Sweetheart, I brought you this exclusive necklace,” he announced from behind, presenting the box to you.

Your face lights up only momentarily at each lavish gift presented to you, but as gifts keep coming, their extravagance holds little value. Aventurine could only find himself lost. What could he do now since he can’t seem to please you any further with his riches?

To him, his identity revolves around his wealth and luck, without the appeal towards money, he feared that he held no more value in your life. He wished you found solace in him as he did towards you.

“Is something the matter?” he asked anxiously, feeling you slip away further despite all his efforts. You’re his safe haven but he can’t fathom why he’s not your after all of his efforts. 

“I’m fine,” a transparent white lie escapes your lips.

“That’s a blatant lie,” he frowned, wrapping his right arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him while on the bed. “Please, tell me the truth. I’ll buy you anything you want,” he continues coaxing you with the power of money.

“I’m okay,” you continue to refuse despite his effort.

Aventurine hesitates to pressure you any further, fearing that you’ll start to withdraw from him completely. He would insist, forcing you into therapy, though each session came with a price because nothing in this universe is free.

With Aventurine’s dirty money he coaxes the therapist to make every session involve him in some way while actually helping you. With the power of money, the therapist starts to manipulate you into seeking comfort, and attention from Aventurine. Every session ended with something about Aventurine, so he can linger in your thoughts.

Slowly, you began to heal, finding yourself drawn to Aventurine's presence. He welcomed this, craving pleasure since he- himself is constantly drawn to you every second.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his arm draped around you as you both lounged on plush casino's cushion.

"Better," you replied softly.

He smiled at your response, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. Finally, he was becoming your safe place, just as he had always hoped.

His hand gently massaged your back, drawing you closer until your lips were almost touching.

"Is that so?" he grinned, closing the gap with a tender kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. As he pulled back, staring at your bashfulness, he brushed your hair behind your ear and whispered, "If I win this, I'll buy you everything you desire."

P.S: I'm going to sleep after this but idk much about Welt despite playing hi3 since near release date. I also like keep character in character but Yandere or any NSFW +18 works are probably gonna be ooc.

Sorry this took so long I'm Trying to get my life back together :(

Mental Health

I take mental health seriously since I’m studying to become an expert in the medical field for mental health! If you’re ever in need of help please ask a trusted adult or seek help right away before it becomes worse! Just know mental health doesn’t make you a bad person but rather you’re suffering and depression is also an illness. Everyone is allowed treatment no matter what.

[wis-art]

The worst period of my life was when I was a self hating teenager in denial about being transgender. I grew up in a deeply abusive household and my father expected me to be his manly son and I tried to conform despite it driving me insane, I fell down many nasty rabbitholes because of my insecurities rooted in deep hatred of my body and deep hatred of what I should be, I have always felt uneasy looking at men in cartoons and movies thinking to myself how much I don't want to become that, always envying the girls and always dreaming about waking up as a girl. This all lead me online because I felt so isolated from the world and I couldn't relate to anybody. Of course an unmedicated self hating teenager, with grand delusions about being god's little special soldier, seeking ANY validation is bound to fall into some horrible places, i am one of the victims of the alt right pipeline, and it did drive me into suicidal spirals many times over how much I hated myself for being transgender. Eventually I snapped out of it and grew out of it but the taste in my mouth of ever associating myself with that kind of community is really disgusting and never seems to wash off from my tongue, which I suppose is good since I never want to be back there mentally. I despise the right wingers, seeing and experiencing their beliefs first hand, it's all just driven by hate and insecurity, the only reason why it's so popular is because these people prey on lack of knowledge and insecurity of any kind, offering easy solutions and quick fixes, putting an easy target to direct your hate towards just to deflect the hate away from yourself. It is not a valid or real solution or even political ideology, it's a grift and a worldview sold to people who know their future is uncertain, it's harnessing the societal instability and crisis for political and financial gain, and I was a sucker for it in my teenage years for which I apologize. Nowadays I am unapologetically a leftist, with flaws and gaps in knowledge, like any other human on this earth but fundamentally different and changed from when I was a kid, and I am proud of myself and I am proud to be the bad transgender bitch that I am. It took so much effort, medicine, therapy, help from my family, help from my friends for me to realize that I was wrong and that I need to change. I did not do it alone. And I'm glad I did it, and I'm happy to ve fortunate enough to receive help and support despite being a toxic unpleasant person to be around. All so I can just be Wis in peace a weird transgender woman on the internet, drawing trans women who despise the fascists and nazis. It's also why I so deeply believe in people changing and why I am so adamantly against harassing people for their mistakes for years, it just doesn't help, all it does is makes one ashamed and all shame does is drive one further into the abyss of self hatred. As corny as it sounds love has saved me and it is love and patience that helps people change

[nhlclover]

𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 | 𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈

summary: after feeling isolated by the lack of support from your own family and friends during your pregnancy, you found a sense of belonging among adam's friends

warnings: pregnancy, technically teen pregnancy, use of made up people who do not exist irl

word count: 1.33k

You had never felt so alone.

When you found out you and Adam were expecting, you were over the moon. It wasn’t in your plans as a couple, but the two of you were more than ready to begin your family. The initial shock quickly turned into joy as you imagined the future together, holding your little one in your arms, and sharing the excitement of each new milestone.

However, when you told those close to you, your friends and family, their reactions were not what you had hoped for. Your parents had been disappointed, worried about what those in the community would think about them now that their daughter was a teenage mom. Their choice of words left you feeling like a failure. Your mother’s disapproving gaze and your father’s silence were more hurtful than any words could be. They seemed more concerned about their reputation than the new life you were bringing into the world.

When you turned to your friends, hoping that their reactions would be supportive and at least slightly better than those of your parents, you were left hurt and alone. They either distanced themselves or openly criticized your decision to keep the baby. The whispers behind your back, the judgmental glances, and the sudden exclusion from social gatherings cut deeper than you could have imagined. It felt like you were being punished for your happiness.

It seemed like everyone had an opinion, and none of them were supportive. The isolation was overwhelming, and each day felt heavier than the last. The weight of their disappointment and judgment bore down on you, making the already challenging journey of pregnancy feel even more daunting.

Now, at seven months pregnant, you had been navigating the rocky path of motherhood almost completely alone. Adam had been a rock throughout the entire thing, his unwavering love and support providing you with some solace in the storm of criticism. He held you through the nights of tears and doubt, whispering reassurances that you were strong. His family, although from a distance, were also supportive, sending messages of encouragement and little gifts for the baby.

However, even their unwavering support felt like it wasn’t enough. The absence of your own family’s acceptance left a void that was impossible to fill. You longed for your mother’s comforting words, your father’s steady presence, and the camaraderie of your friends. Instead, you faced a future that seemed more uncertain and isolated than you had ever imagined.

The journey of impending motherhood, which should have been filled with joy and anticipation, was overshadowed by the loneliness that engulfed you. Each day was a struggle to stay positive and to believe that you could be the mother your child deserved. As the due date approached, the fear of the unknown mixed with the pain of rejection, making you wonder if you could ever truly overcome the loneliness that had become your constant companion.

So when Adam suggested you go to brunch with his friends, your anxiety skyrocketed. You didn’t know these people well, and the thought of facing more judgment was almost too much to bear. Yet, Adam had assured you they were kind, understanding people, so you trusted him.

As you arrived at the quaint restaurant, your heart pounded in your chest. This morning had been a better one in terms of morning sickness and pain, which gave you a sense of ease that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, but still, your anxiety loomed.

Adam gave your hand a quick squeeze as you approached the table, most of his friends already seated. You were greeted by a melodic chorus of friendly voices and warm smiles. Adam’s friends and their partners welcomed them eagerly, pulling out chairs and making space for them at the crowded table.

“Y/n, right?” the girl next to you asked.

“Yes, hi,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly as you took a seat.

“Adam’s told me so much about you, it’s so nice to finally put a face to a name!” she said sweetly. “I’m Lilly.”

Her warmth and genuine smile were a stark contrast to the reactions you had grown accustomed to. You felt a small spark of hope flicker within you, and you mustered a polite smile in return. "It's nice to meet you, Lilly."

As the conversation flowed around you, you found yourself slowly relaxing. The group was vibrant and welcoming, chatting animatedly about their lives, sharing jokes, and asking you questions that made you feel included rather than judged. Lilly in particular seemed to take you under her wing, engaging you in conversation and making sure you felt comfortable.

"So, how are you feeling?" Lilly asked gently, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "I know it must be tough sometimes."

You hesitated, unused to such kindness, but her sincerity made it easier to open up. "It's been challenging," you admitted, feeling a lump in your throat. You glanced at Adam, who gave you an encouraging nod. He’d kept an eye on you the entire evening, making sure you were staying comfortable and making sure you didn’t want to leave. He’d truly been amazing through everything. "But Adam has been wonderful, and I'm trying to stay positive."

“When are you due?” Tyler asked.

“Early August,” you replied, your voice steadier now.

“That's so exciting! Have you thought about names yet?” Sarah asked, her enthusiasm contagious.

You and Adam exchanged a glance, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a genuine smile spread across your face. “We have a few ideas, but nothing set in stone yet.”

The weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, as you felt that there was a developing support system that you hadn’t expected. As the brunch continued, the questions kept coming, but they were all filled with kindness and genuine interest. They asked about your cravings, your experience with morning sickness, and even shared funny stories from their own lives. You felt yourself relaxing, your earlier fears melting away.

“We're all here for you, you know," Lilly said at one point, her eyes sincere. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. We’d love to help now and after the baby arrives.”

You didn’t know if it was the overwhelming gratitude you were experiencing, or simply pregnancy hormones, but you found yourself getting emotional, tears brimming in your eyes. “Thank you. That means more than you know.”

Lilly gave you a sweet smile, reaching over and giving your hand that rested on the table a supportive squeeze. The meals came and went, stories were told, and Adam kindly paid for the tab. After you said your goodbyes and well-wishes, you walked to the car with Adam's arm around your shoulders.

“So…” Adam said hesitantly. “How was that?”

You let out a deep breath, a smile appearing on your lips. “They were amazing, Adam,” you said. “They’re so nice.”

You felt the pregnancy hormones coming back again, the tears now spilling over. Your emotions had been on a rollercoaster, with the highs and lows often blending into a confusing blur. After being abandoned by your friends and family, feeling like you were practically alone in this journey, the isolation weighed heavily on you. Each day had been a struggle, each moment a reminder of the support you lacked. The once-familiar faces that should have been by your side had turned away, leaving you to navigate this overwhelming experience in solitude.

But now, a shift was happening. You now finally felt like there were people on your side, people you could lean on and fill the void that had been left by those who had abandoned you.

Over the next few weeks, you began to see more of Adam’s friends. They checked in on you, invited you to small gatherings, and even helped you prepare for the baby. Lilly became a close friend, always there with a listening ear and helpful advice. Slowly but surely, the loneliness that had once seemed insurmountable began to ebb away.

[yuveenti-blog]

Astrology Observations 08/02/2024

Why Do These Zodiac Signs Enter Your Life

🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿

An Aries will enter your life when you are at a low-point, unmotivated, and struggling to face your reality.

A Taurus will enter your life you when you think you have all the answers, are impulsive, and lack any discipline to see results.

A Gemini will enter your life when you are stubborn, too focused on self-indulgence, and lazy.

A Cancer will enter your life when you are inconsistent, hanging around disingenuous people, and too focused on the future.

A Leo will enter your life when you are struggling with confidence, lacking faith, and stuck in your emotions.

A Virgo will enter your life when you are too much in your ego and impatient.

A Libra will enter your life when you are judgmental, unhappy, and critical.

A Scorpio will enter your life if you have disingenuous people around you, if you’re indecisive, and detached.

A Sagittarius will enter your life if you’re jealous, secretive, and resentful.

A Capricorn will enter your life if you’re careless, inconsistent, and overly confident.

An Aquarius will enter your life if you are pessimistic, bossy, and reserved.

A Pisces will enter your life if you are detached, isolated, and rebellious.

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

How You Were Conceived & What Your Parents Are Like Based On Your Sun Sign

Aries: ( Your parents have Cancer placements as their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your mom was very fertile when she conceived you. She could have desired being pregnant, a child, or an addition to the family. She could be in love with the father and craving closeness and his warmth. She may have been highly emotional during the pregnancy and self-protective. She could have needed more help while pregnant and been very moody. The Aries mother is probably protective over the Aries and at times can smother the Aries with her concerns. The Aries mother may have really wanted to maintain the family and was traditional and routine in raising the Aries. Sometimes the Aries mother will want to take space to deal with her own life and head but she will come back wanting to shower love. She gets very defensive when people talk about her Aries child. In the negative sense she could dampen the Aries mood and become overbearing.The Aries might think their mother is childish and overly emotional. The Aries father would have wanted a family when the Aries is born, but the father may himself be defensive against the mother, feeling smothered by the Aries mother’s demands. He could put too many expectations on the mother to hold down the family. He could also be sensitive himself.

Taurus: ( Your parents have Cancer or Leo in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

You could be the love baby, the product of your parents being in love and having fun. During the time you were conceived they could have been desiring a child and wanting to deepen their connection or family. The mother could have been moody and protective during her pregnancy. She could have also gotten a lot of attention while you were in her stomach. The father could have been active in the entire process and supportive of the mom. The father was happy to become a father. The Taurus mother can be nurturing and protective over Taurus. She could also pay lots of attention to the Taurus and constantly want to give affection and help the Taurus bring out their creative side. She may enjoy the comforts of life with her Taurus. On the negative side she can be demanding, bossy, and overly emotional to the Taurus. The Taurus might feel too pressured by his mom and sometimes feel they have to comfort their mother. The father can try to share responsibility with Taurus mother and help as he can. On the negative side, the father can come off as too egotistical and hard on the child.

Gemini: ( Your parents have Leo or Virgo in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

You father could’ve played an active role in conception. He really desired your mother at the time or was enjoying the time he spent with your mother. Your mother could’ve received a lot of attention when you were in her belly, but she may have had to work and carry a lot of responsibility. The pregnancy may have been difficult. Your parents could have wanted you and at the same time took it serious and started preparing early on. There could’ve been a lot of responsibility in your parents life when you were conceived, a busy time. Many disagreements could’ve been because your parents didn’t see eye to eye and no one would budge. The Gemini’s parents could be bossy or dominant. I can see the mom being very dominant in the Gemini’s life, possibly putting a lot of her expectations on the Gemini. The Gemini has to adapt to their mom’s way of thinking and perhaps their mom is an over-thinker or analytical. Their mother is reliable to them and they feel that they can count on her but she suppresses a lot of her emotions and so there is somewhat of an aloofness to their connection. They can talk for hours but they don’t get to the heart of matters. In the more negative sense the mom can be very judgmental towards the Gemini or just quickly annoyed. She can have a hard time expressing her love so it may seem disingenuous at times. The mom can also be stubborn and the Gemini feels restricted at times by her mentality. The father of the Gemini can be intelligent, he may care a lot about his image and may find it hard to present his emotions in a healthy manner since he wants to keep up the image.

Cancer: ( Your parents have Virgo or Libra in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your mom conceived you because your father charmed her, took her on a date, or try to manipulate her into s*x. Your parents could’ve been feeling more romantic during the time you were conceived, desiring more time together or wanting to go out and have fun more. A lot may have been happening between your parents but they liked to keep it to themselves and not show it publicly. There could have been a lot of conversation between your parents, trying to get on the same page, but their was a lack of sentimentality, they could’ve possibly had a lot of harsh exchange of words that turned into arguments or they were always trying to compromise. Your mom may have looked beautiful during her pregnancy, having a glow to her and wearing her belly well. The father could’ve been more social around this time and wanting to be around his friends. The Cancer’s mom could be superficial in ways and care too much about appearances, always trying to make the family look good even when it isn’t. The mom could also treat the Cancer like their friends and have open discussion with the Cancer. The mom may prioritize her relationship over the Cancer or can become distant due to romance. The mom can be a great listener to the Cancer and can share many of her ideas/dreams. On the negative side, the mother can be impatient to the Cancer, can become manipulative, and can encourage bad habits. The father could be a handsome man or have a lot of charisma. The father may have a lot of friends and bonds with the child more as they grow since he can treat the Cancer like a friend. The father may believe in treating all his children fair. On the negative side the father can be flighty and not be truly present for the Cancer.

Leo: ( Your parents have Scorpio or Sagittarius in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your parents may have gone through a dark time prior to conceiving you. There could be a family secret, an affair, cheating, side/chick main chick. Just very hidden sexual themes here, won’t get into it. On the other hand you could also be conceived because your parents were so hor*y and kept having s*x all the time. They could’ve been living wild and having fun and you were just an accident. The mother could’ve had a very intense and tumultuous pregnancy or it was an easy one with little complications. The mother to Leo could be very secretive and deep, but she is strong and doesn’t show much emotion to the Leo. The Leo feels the moms intensity but doesn’t question her too much since she just won’t give any answers if she choose not. The Leo’s mom could be fiercely protective of the Leo and won’t back down from fighting for her child. The Leo’s mom could also be somewhat violent or could have anger issues broiling beneath, but she could be incredibly ambitious and won’t let nothing stop her. On the other end, the mom could be very carefree and allow her child to develop on their own. The mom would love to have the Leo experience a lot of different things and can want the Leo to follow their dreams. She can be a very supportive mother but with a hands-off approach. The Leo feels they can be theirselves because their mom just wants them to be happy. The Leo’s father could seek power and be masculine. He could be focused on money or he could he be out the house a lot, the mom is there more.

Virgo: ( Your parents have Sagittarius or Capricorn in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your parents could’ve conceived when they were having lots of fun, hor*y and just always having sex or they were deeply committed and wanted to move to the next step and have a child. On one hand, your parents could’ve slipped up and had you, yet the pregnancy was probably easy and she experienced good things while pregnant. On the other hand, the pregnancy could’ve been very serious and your parents felt the responsibility immediately. Your mother may have dealt with health issues while pregnant and she could’ve continued working or had to work more. She may have been depressed during her pregnancy as well. The Virgo’s mother may be a positive woman who is eager to have her child experience all that life has to offer. She may allow her child a lot of freedom while instilling values and education into the child. She can be like a friend to her child, just wanting her child to be happy. She can also be very open and truthful towards her child. On the other hand, the mother to the Virgo can be serious and ambitious and take parenting serious. She may focus on how she can best aid her child to success and that can mean sometimes she’s hard on her child, but she isn’t unrealistic. She just wants her child to be great. She may instill discipline into her child and the Virgo may be thankful. The Virgo’s mother might be the boss and call the shots. On the other hand, the Virgo’s mother may be controlling and insensitive. She may not know how to connect to the Virgo emotionally, there is distance there. The father of the Virgo can be money-hungry, he could be all about his status and may not be around as much. He could be too worried about putting food on the table or being at the top of his game. The father could also be more on the serious side and the disciplinary.

Libra: ( Your parents have Capricorn or Aquarius in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your parents took their commitment to one another serious when they conceived you and felt it was right to bring a child into this world. On the other hand, your parents could’ve not expected to have a child, maybe infertility, older age, using protection, or just focused on other things and didn’t expect it. Your mother could’ve been somber during her pregnancy, depressed, or just had a lot of responsibilities. On the other hand your mom being pregnant with you could’ve changed her life in so many ways. She may have been forced to change. She may have been detached from the experience itself and focused more on other things. The Libra’s mother is either serious and traditional and raises her child under tradition, making sure the child is well taken care of on a financial level but struggles to emotionally connect to her child. Her child may get a lot of material items but will feel unseen on an emotional level or the mom raises her child in an alternative/odd way, different sort of set-up, the child has more freedom because of this at some point. The mother doesn’t really nurture much of an emotional connection, but she’s open to talk and makes for good conversation. The mom may be intelligent and independent and known for helping those in need. The father could be a workaholic, the primary bread maker. The father could be very hard to get close to and keeps a distance from the child, won’t open up about certain things, and may encourage independence to the point where the Libra doesn’t feel his care and tenderness.

Scorpio: ( Your parents have Aquarius in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

You were either an accident or a big change in your parent’s life upon conception. They had to adjust and adapt to a new way of life once you were conceived. They could be in the public eyes a lot, celebrity, known around town, apart of a scandal or organization. They could also have an alternative relationship: polyamorous, lgbtq, open relationship, side chick/side dude, situationship, friends with benefits, swingers. Your mom may have been distant from your dad during pregnancy, long distance relationship, or just didn’t feel like other pregnant women. Your mother is probably intelligent and very creative with a big imagination, she may share a lot of her ideas with you or you may have been apart of a lot of your mother’s crafty ideas growing up. She may be focused on a lot of things at once and may not have as much time for you. Not that you are not important to her but sometimes you may not have felt that way. She can also be apart of communities and organizations that take up her time. She could’ve been ahead of her time and eccentric, a bit weird. She may have stood out in her family or may have went down a different path than her siblings. She may be distant to the Scorpio, in the sense she can give the Scorpio freedom but she also has very rigid ways of thinking and can need a lot of time to herself. She may find it hard to express emotion and show her care in such physical ways to the Scorpio. The Scorpios father could be distant in some ways as well, maybe he cares in his own way and wants the best for his child, but he can lack sentimentality. He may also be focused on work, an organization, project or a responsibility in his life that takes a lot of his time. He expects the Scorpio to be independent and learn how to navigate the world on their own. He can be detached in his own world at times, leaving the Scorpio to theirselves. The Scorpio’s father may always be focused on the future and think differently than others.

Sagittarius: ( Your parent can have Pisces and Aries in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your parents were probably deep in love when they conceived you or they were full of energy for life. They were probably very hor*y around that time and physical with one another. The pregnancy could’ve made your mother stronger and built a lot of courage she didn’t have prior. The pregnancy could’ve also connected her deeper to her spirituality and made her emotional and sensitive. On one hand, your mother could’ve gain a lot of strength and had more ambition and drive for her life by her pregnancy or she could’ve felt very vulnerable and needed a lot of support and help to cope with her sensitivities and changes. The mother to the Sagittarius can be very dominant, aggressive, and controlling. She may have a lot of expectations for her child and pressure the child to grow up fast. The mother could be passionate and anger quickly. She will stand up to anyone who speaks ill of the Sagittarius, at the same time she can cut the Sagittarius with her words as well. On the other hand, the mother to the Sagittarius can be in her own world, always victimizing herself, but she can be deep with a lot of wisdom. The mother may have addictions as well ( drink, smoke, always trying to escape her reality), she may feel so deeply in love and sacrifice a lot for the father. The mother may be intuitive and always concerned with what the Sagittarius is up to. The father can be very masculine and action-oriented, he may be physically strong and have a lot of ideas he wants to do in his life, he may strive to instill independence in the Sagittarius and to assert themselves. On the other hand the father may be more passive, lazy, and in his own world. The father may struggle with addictions as well and may be delusional over the mother, always wanting to be in her energy. He can have artistic talents and be a spiritual man.

Capricorn: ( Your parents can have Aries or Taurus in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your parents could’ve been very physical with one another around conception. Quick s*x, touching each other all the time, going on adventures together. On the other hand, your parents could’ve been devoted to each other and building a life together while in love. They could’ve been feeling romantic and indulgent, perhaps you were conceived after a romantic night out. Your mother could’ve taken charge during pregnancy and got a lot accomplished. She could’ve gained courage and found a new path for herself. The pregnancy could’ve went by fast for her because she was occupied and hands-on. She may also have bounced back from the pregnancy easier. On the other hand, your mom could’ve relaxed more during pregnancy and gained more weight. She could’ve been preparing by ensuring that you were set financially and focusing on handling the home. Her pregnancy could’ve given her a glow and she could’ve looked beautiful pregnant. She may have been lazier during her pregnancy. The mother to the Capricorn can be a boss in her own nature, ambitious, and eager to get what she wants. At times that she can come across as selfish to the Capricorn, but she cares a lot about the Capricorn and wants to make sure they have what they need. She can have a lot of ideas, hobbies, and passions. On the other hand, the Capricorns mother could be what a traditional mother is. She can cook, clean, pack lunches, and make sure that they are prospering. She can make the house beautiful and plan leisure time for the family. The Capricorn can see their mom as judgmental and lazy at times or worst controlling. The Capricorns father can either be ambitious and always working to get more money for the family or they can see their father as temperamental and too controlling. On the other hand, the father can be seen as a gentleman who knows how to earn money and take cares of his family.

Aquarius: ( Your parent can have Taurus or Gemini in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

These children can be conceived when their parents are in love, building solid grounds towards the future. These can be the love babies. The mother looked beautiful pregnant and had a glow to her. The mother could have felt grounded during her pregnancy or taken care of. On the other hand the child could have been conceived during a busy time where the focus was on socializing, going to school, learning, working. The parents could’ve had a lot going on in their lives. The mother could’ve been studying or going to school while pregnant, reading a lot of books, and around all different people. She may have talked to you in her belly a lot, read stories, sung. The Aquarius mother may care about the father a lot and puts a lot of her focus on the relationship and keeping the household together, she could be a bit rigid in how she thinks and it can be hard for the Aquarius to change their moms mind. The mother can cook well and keep appearances up, but she may be controlling and struggle to connect emotionally to the Aquarius. The mother can have a focus on material items and come off superficial. On the other hand, the mother can be intelligent and always aiding the Aquarius in education. The mother may have books lounging around the house and encourage reading. She could put the Aquarius in various activities and keep the Aquarius busy. She could have a diverse group of friends and so the Aquarius meets all kind of people as they grow-up. At times the mother can be scattered brain and inconsistent leading to some shaky times. The father to the Aquarius can be the provider or works diligently to provide a better future for the family sometimes he can be a know-it-all and stubborn. On the other hand, he could be a very smart guy that is multi-talented and has his hands in many things. The father can be busy and engages with a lot of different people.

Pisces: ( Your parents can have Gemini placements in their Sun, Moon, or Rising)

Your parents could’ve conceived you during a busy time in their lives where they were socializing a lot. Your parents could’ve been in school or focused on learning. It could have been a time where a lot of changes were occurring as well. The mother probably talked a lot during her pregnancy, read books, took classes or was in school, changed her mind frequently as well. The Pisces’s mother can be intelligent and open-minded. She can want her child to excel in school and be an intellectual. She could want to keep the Pisces busy or constantly find ways to keep the Pisces child stimulated or not bored. The Pisces mother at time can be inconsistent and indecisive creating rocky periods in the Pisces life. She can also be moody and the Pisces may struggle to keep up with all the shifts at times. The father can be open-minded and intelligent as well. The father could be in and out of the Pisces life or be busy a lot and have many friends. The father may talk to the child a lot and communication is prioritized.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

[xielianlover2]

I want to talk about unconditional forgiveness and how crucial it is for Xie Lian to have someone who offers it to him with no strings attached.

Throughout Xie Lian's life, he experiences numerous falls from grace, each one more devastating than the last. He goes from being a beloved crown prince and a renowned god to a figure of scorn and bad luck. The weight of his past and the suffering he has endured often make him question his own worthiness and ability to protect others.

Which is why, for Xie Lian, Hua Cheng's forgiveness is a lifeline. Knowing that there is someone who believes in him, no matter what, allows Xie Lian to forgive himself and move forward. In a world where divine beings are often portrayed as infallible, we see by the end, that pretty much every god has their own flaws and that even those with immense power are not immune to making grievous errors in judgment.

I think Hua Cheng’s forgiveness also symbolizes a deeper, transformative love. It’s a love that goes beyond mere acceptance; it’s a commitment, a promise, a vow to stand by Xie Lian no matter what, and that's what makes his love so rare and beautiful. It's such a stark contrast to the judgment Xie Lian has faced from his people and other gods. While his own friends basically turned their backs on him, Hua Cheng remained his most loyal and devoted believer. His cheerleader, for a lack of better words. Hua Cheng embodies the truest form of compassion– understanding and embracing someone wholly.

Hua Cheng's love and acceptance allow Xie Lian to feel seen and understood in a way that no one else has ever provided. This kind of forgiveness is not about overlooking mistakes or pretending they didn't happen; rather, it's about recognizing the entirety of a person's journey and choosing to embrace them regardless.

Hua Cheng's acceptance allows Xie Lian to be vulnerable about his deepest fears and struggles. It also gives him the ability to ask for something he needs for himself:

"All right... don't say any more. I get it... but... but don't be like this, all right? San Lang? I... I've borrowed so much spiritual power from you that I haven't repaid. And I'm not done telling you all the things that I wanted to say; there's still so much. It's been so long since anyone listened to me talk. Won't you stay? Don't.. don't do this. I won't be able to take it. Twice, it's happened twice already-I really don't want there to be a third time!"

In this moment, Xie Lian’s plea reveals how extremely isolating his life has been. He has been perpetually misunderstood, and I believe that even before his first ascension, he has always felt profoundly alone. Throughout his life, Xie Lian has been surrounded by people who either see him through the lens of his past or view him as a mere symbol; a divine god, so therefore flawless and someone beyond approach. It strips away his humanity and the complexities of his true self, unable to be seen as a person with real feelings and imperfections. Even his Feng Xin and Mu Qing put him up in a pedestal, and no matter what happened, no matter how understandable it was, everyone still left him in the end.

Then, to have someone say they understand his everything, from his wisdom to his foolishness, and then also wholeheartedly support him and unconditionally love him? That they never, ever left him, that they've always been there, constant and unchanging in their love, in their devotion? That must have felt life-changing to him. Something groundbreaking and pivotal.

He is essentially begging for the one person who understands him completely—and who accepts him unconditionally despite everything—not to leave him. When Xie Lian begs Hua Cheng to stay, it is not just a request for physical presence but a desperate need for emotional reassurance and acceptance. For Hua Cheng is Xie Lian's safe haven where he can express his deepest fears and unspoken desires, a place of solace and affirmation that he has long been missing from everyone else.

[celestialprincesse]

More Simon X Single mom!Reader💕🌙

Based on this drabble😚

wc: 1.1k

You're so, painfully reluctant to ask Simon for help. He offers, frequently, to help you get bedded in to your small flat, which only now, finally free from the clutches of your desperation, do you understand why it was so cheap. The first time he comes over for dinner he notes the way your kitchen faucet takes ages to put out hot water, and honestly, it took a fair bit of blindly tapping (smacking) random pipes to get any water at all. He seems to take issue with not only the lack of amenities that could help you get settled, but also the fact that the few basics that you do have access to don't work. You're a single mom, with a three year old daughter, and his sense of justice has always been at war with his longing search for peace and isolation.

Simon doesn't have much to do when he's not deployed, Price putting him on some kind of mandatory break after the last mission went south, as did his mental health. Because of said lack of hobbies, work and education, Simon finds himself doing literally whatever he can think of to occupy his mind, to forget about what happened in October - if that means helping you string a wreath on the front of your apartment door and lugging a christmas tree up the stairs for you, that's what he'll do. You'll be the first to admit that you're cash poor - buying this house ate up the majority of your savings, and the rest you're currently blowing through supporting your daughter whilst also trying to get a job, very contradictory to the fact that you're also trying to lay low.

The man that lives next door to you is no fool, not as blind and imperceptive as you wish he'd be. You see the way his eyes occaionally shoot to the fading tan line on your left ring finger and the small, raised scar on your bicep. Occasionally, he himself wishes that he wouldn't see the bags under your eyes or the way you clutch onto your daughter like she'll be ripped away from you - maybe then he wouldn't feel such a sense of duty to you. Maybe he wouldn't lie awake at night thinking of the fact that he's spent his life plagued by gunfire to protect innocent women and children, and now faced with the people he vowed to lay down his life for, all he can do is offer to fix your blocked hot water pipe.

So, when you stand on his doorstep, sniffling down fat tears threatening to spill, apologising profusley when you look up to see his confused expression, he can't help but to engulf you, and your wailing daughter at your hip, into what he can only hope is a comforting embrace. "Y' a'right? Whats goin' on?" He murmurs, a hint of panic in his voice. Simon knows the feeling of your past coming back to haunt you all too well.

"I'm sorry I just - the oven is broken, and I need to make her dinner and bath her and put her down to bed -" Is all you can manage before you're hiccuping into the hand not supporting your equally as distraught baby girl.

For a second he just stops, his brain short circuits as he struggles to comprehend the fact that you're coming to him for help. He can't understand the way you lay your soul bare before him, not when he's so distant, so intimidating, and you're oh so soft, lovely as a morning songbird and as warm as sun soaked sand.

"Would you mind looking at it?" Even you recognise how pathetic you sound, standing here practically grovelling at your neighbours door, but apparently it works when he's guiding you back to the front door you stupidly left open in your panic, pulling out a kitchen chair and easing you down as you sit between utter misery and the panic which filled your lungs like a puncture in a life raft when one little part of your routine you'd become so reliant on fell out of place.

"Gas's out." He tells you softly, like any more bad news might make you shatter completely, and the thought of delivering that blow makes him feel physically sick. "Right - Right, no gas." You murmur, brain whirring at a million miles a second in order to work out what to do next.

"You could use my oven? I'll call the gas company in the morning and have them install a new bottle."

His words make you stop, processing his offer, his generosity, the generosity of a man who's never once been cruel or rough or mean to you, and you give a little grateful nod, cooing to your daughter about how you're going on an adventure to Simon's place. The way he scoops her up so that you can stuff a bag with all of the things you need to make dinner, bouncing her on his hip to stop her wailing makes your insides warm in an unfamiliar way, one that you promptly shake off as you follow him across the threshold of his undecorated apartment, trying not to stare at your surroundings as you're guided to a kitchen that you're sure is far more functional than your own.

The way Simon doesn't have any cartoon channels on his TV, so he grabs his laptop instead, plopping your daughter down on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders and some kind of kids show playing on the screen makes you ache, and you can't imagine how a man with no kids of his own could be so good with yours. There's a softness to him despite his physical body being comprised of muscle and sinew and scars, his soul is gentle. He's gentle with you, and he's gentle with your daughter, and that's all that you can ask for.

You make enough dinner for the three of you, mostly to thank Simon for his hospitality, but also because you're starving and the meat needs eating. When you ask where the cutlery is, he gives a little chuckle, grabbing out two sets for you and him, as well as your daughter's little blue Peter Rabbit spoon and tray. He helps you dish up dinner, and when you go to sit at the table, he steers you into the lounge.

"You're not worried about food on the couch?" You squeak in utter confusion, to which he gives a laugh and plops down on one end, placing your daughters tray before her where she sits in the middle of the two of you, happily scarfing down her dinner and watching whatever Simon could find on such short notice.

When you inevitably fall asleep on his couch, your daughter doing the same, Simon sets a blanket over the two of you before going into the kitchen to call the gas company, putting down his card details to pay for the new bottle. He's happy to cough up fifty quid that he's sure you don't have if it means not seeing his girls cry again.

[tallochar]

Just got hit real hard by a drive-by idea where Flashpoint doesn't happen and Dick just takes a few months off to chill (read: Donna shows up and drags him off to have adventures now that Bruce is back in town and everything seems status quo again)

And when he comes back it initially looks like that set up so many fandom fics have where Tim has been isolating himself / been left to his own means and only works with the others out of politeness.

And the moment Dick clocks that that's what the others think is happening, he can straight up feel the grey hairs trying to show up, because while he had phone calls with Tim (who seemed to be coping better with everything that went wrong in his life) and Damian (with whom Dick did not talk about anyone outside of Damian and, occasionally, Bruce, which was already hard enough on Dick without bringing the others in) he had also thought that things had sort of started settling back into what Dick used to think as normal before Bruce "died" on them.

Except Damian and Jason don't know how to pick up on that sort of thing, Cass is still doing her Hong Kong / Journey of Self Discovery Thing as far as anyone seems to know / Bruce is CLEARLY (to Dick and Alfred and absolutely no one else) still communicating with Tim because he's on an even keel but also he must have done something to piss off Tim because Tim is doing the Politely Co-Workers Thing at Bruce (with Alfred's approval and support so Bruce must have fucked up REAL BAD) and it's stressing Bruce out so much that Dick can practically see the tension lines heading to a breaking point in the man why is no one else seeing the tension lines.

Plus Barbara and Dick were still on not-so-great terms when Dick split from Gotham, so he's not had much luck talking to her and some desire to call her but not enough to actually call her a lot, just some, which hasn't made Babs less pissed at him, so he's not getting information on that side and of course if Barbara is pissed at him and Tim is pissed at Bruce and Dick wasn't around for Tim to bitch about Bruce in person (and Tim would NEVER on a phone line, not even a secure one) then Dick is 1000% sure that Tim and Barbara have been having a shared and supportive bitch fest for however many weeks / months Dick was away that has just solidified them in a block of their own.

All of which means that Dick's little brother has been left unbothered, unnoogied and unsupervised for all the time Dick was away and like, sure, some people would think Dick would feel horrible for that and want to octopus-grab him and cuddle him but those people would be wrong because Dick is now honestly terrified to find out WHAT Tim has been up to without supervision and limits.

Between YJ, his civilian friends, his other friends in the superhero community, whatever new people Tim for sure rustled up, the lack of supervision on who Tim teams up with and for what, all the villain-frenemies he might have decided it was worth cooperating with, Tim being pissed at Bruce enough to keep a physical distance if not a communication distance...

And then, just as it is hitting Dick that, of course just keeping track on the phone was a bad idea to begin with why did he think that was a good idea and that what with Barbara and Tim in agreement and both Tim and Barbara at odds with Bruce and Alfred firmly entrenched in his usual If-Tim-Is-Handling-Master-Bruce-I-Will-Not-Hear-A-Thing-Against-The-Lad british politeness artillery position, this means that no one who would not enable him in the Wrong And Not Dick Approved Ways has been actually keeping as close track of Tim as he should have been kept track of (because *will smith hands memes* TIM!) ...

... Red Robin swings by, Azrael in tow, clearly going after Lynx.

And it's not that new Azrael that they had, which was still an Azrael but wasn't the Worst of the Azraels.

It's fucking Jean Paul Valley, who is supposed to be dead and clearly did not have the goddamn grace to decide to stay dead.

Dick, internally while outwardly having a BSOD moment: Tim. Tim you had just told Dick you were going to check out a couple of leads tonight. Tim why are you swinging from rooftops with JPV in tow. Tim why is JPV ALIVE. Why did you NOT tell Dick about it, TIM. TIM.

[fgumi]

ꕥ old friend; — sunghoon one shot, wc: 3.5k, genre: angst, fluff

you were nine years old when you first met sunghoon on the ice. both of you were young competitors, skating in the same circles, and it didn’t take long for a bond to form. while the other skaters focused on perfecting their moves under their mothers’ watchful eyes, you and sunghoon found solace in each other. there was something comforting about sharing the ice with someone who understood the isolation that came with the sport.

as the years passed, your friendship grew stronger. you’d spend hours practicing together, pushing each other to be better. when you weren’t on the ice, you were talking about everything from skating techniques to your favorite snacks. you both dreamed of making it big—of competing internationally and one day, standing on the same podium.

when you were fifteen, your mother asked if you’d consider representing the usa in women’s figure skating at the olympics. you had dual citizenship, and the opportunity was too good to pass up. excited but nervous, you told sunghoon about it. he was disappointed, of course—how could he not be?—but he was happy for you, promising that one day, you’d share the ice in an international setting.

“i’m going to miss you,” he admitted quietly one day after practice, his gaze lingering on you longer than usual. there was something unspoken in the way he looked at you—something that made your heart flutter. “it won’t be the same without you.”

“i’ll miss you too,” you replied, feeling a strange mix of excitement and sadness. “but i’ll come back every summer. we’ll still skate together.”

“yeah,” he said, offering you a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “we will.”

that was the beginning of a new chapter in your life. you visited russia for training, and although you kept in touch with sunghoon, the distance made it difficult. over the summers, you’d return to korea, and you’d hang out with him as much as you could. each time you saw him, you couldn’t help but notice how he had changed—how he had grown taller, his features sharper, more mature. it made your heart skip a beat in ways you didn’t fully understand.

in 2018, sunghoon told you that he was beginning training as an idol with bighit entertainment, hoping it would benefit his routines on the ice. you supported him, but deep down, you had your suspicions that this might not turn out the way he wanted. you didn’t say it, but a part of you feared that he might drift even further away from you.

your fears were confirmed when, in 2019, sunghoon texted you to say he was quitting skating. you were taken aback, hiding your disappointment as you assured him that you’d back his decision no matter what. “i’m really proud of you, you know,” you said during one of your last phone calls before his final competition. “but i wish i could be there to see it.”

“me too,” he replied, his voice tinged with regret. “it would have been nice… to have you there.”

what you didn’t tell him was that you were flying to korea to see his final performance in person.

the arena was quieter than usual as you slipped into the bleachers, the familiar chill of the ice rink seeping through your jacket. this time, the quiet wasn’t due to the lack of spectators but the weight of the moment—a final performance from someone who had meant so much to you.

as you sat with the small piplup plushie clutched in your hands, memories of the two of you as children on the ice flooded back. you and sunghoon had been inseparable, two kids who found each other amidst the grueling world of competitive figure skating. even as you moved to the usa for training and he remained in korea, the bond you shared remained strong.

now, as you watched sunghoon take the ice for what would be the last time, your heart ached. he moved with the same grace and precision that had always set him apart, but there was something different now—something heavier. the music began, the soft strains of “you are the reason” by calum scott filling the arena, and you could feel the weight of his emotions in every movement.

his jumps were clean, his spins flawless, but there was a loneliness in his routine that tugged at your heart. as he skated, you could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his love for the sport and the decision he had made to leave it behind. each glide across the ice seemed to carry a finality that made your chest tighten.

you held your breath as he approached his final jump, a triple axel that he had executed perfectly a thousand times before. he landed it cleanly, but as he skated into his final pose, you could see the exhaustion on his face—not just physical, but emotional as well. the music faded, and for a moment, there was silence.

then, the arena erupted in applause. the sound was deafening, but all you could do was stand there, your hands trembling as you cheered loudly, pouring every ounce of your support into that one moment. with a quick flick of your wrist, you tossed the piplup plushie onto the ice, your heart pounding as you watched it skid to a stop near his skates.

sunghoon turned, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. for a brief moment, he looked confused, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. then, as recognition dawned, his expression shifted from surprise to something softer, more vulnerable. his eyes widened, and a smile slowly spread across his face, bright and genuine. he bent down to pick up the plushie, holding it close as he scanned the crowd again, his gaze locking onto yours.

it was as if the entire arena fell away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. you could see the gratitude in his eyes, the unspoken words of thanks for being there when he needed it most. as he skated toward the kiss and cry, you could see the weight of his decision settling over him, the realization that this truly was the end of his journey on the ice.

as his scores were announced, you watched him nod, his expression a mixture of relief and resignation. the applause continued, but you could see the finality in his eyes. this was it—the last time he would hear those scores, the last time he would sit in that chair as a competitor.

the moment he stepped off the ice, you rushed to meet him. without hesitation, you threw yourself into his arms, and he caught you in a tight embrace. “you came,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his breath warm against your ear.

“of course, i did,” you replied, your own voice trembling as tears threatened to spill over. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

you pulled back just enough to look at him, and in that moment, the years of distance, the missed conversations, all seemed to melt away. you were kids again, sharing the ice, finding comfort in each other’s company. you saw the tears in his eyes, mirroring your own, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away.

“you didn’t have to come all this way,” sunghoon said softly, his voice tinged with disbelief.

you smiled, wiping at your eyes. “yes, i did. i wanted to see you skate one last time.”

his grip tightened around you, and for a long moment, neither of you said anything. the silence was heavy with unspoken words, with the realization that this chapter of his life was closing.

over the next few days, you spent as much time together as possible. you reminisced about old times, shared memories of competitions, and even took to the ice together one last time. there was a lingering closeness between you that hadn’t been there before—moments where his hand would brush against yours, or his gaze would linger just a little too long. it was bittersweet, knowing that this was the end of an era, but it was also comforting, knowing that you were there for him during this pivotal moment in his life.

but all too soon, it was time for you to return to the us. the goodbye was harder than you expected, filled with promises to stay in touch, though you both knew how difficult that would be. as you boarded the plane back to the us, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness, knowing that things would never be the same.

your communication with him grew more sparse after that. distance and time had created a gap between you, one that had only widened after he began training as an idol. you tried not to take it personally, but it felt like he was cutting you off, much like he had with figure skating. when i-land aired in 2020, you recognized sunghoon immediately and supported him from afar, voting and cheering him on as he pursued his new dream. seeing him on the ice again during the free day segment nearly brought you to tears—he looked happier than ever, and it warmed your heart.

with multiple competitions lining up, you threw yourself into training, working tirelessly toward your goal: the 2022 beijing winter olympics. it was a grueling process, but it paid off. you won the silver medal, making history as the first american woman to medal in figure skating in nearly 20 years. the accomplishment was incredible, but even as you stood on the podium, a part of you wished sunghoon could have been there to see it.

what you didn’t know was that he was watching—every second of it.

back in korea, sunghoon had made it clear to the other members that they would not be changing the channel under any circumstances. enhypen was gathered in the dorm’s living room, the tv tuned to the olympics, and sunghoon was glued to the screen, gripping the remote tightly as if his life depended on it.

“hyung, we’ve been watching this for hours,” ni-ki whined, trying to grab the remote. “can’t we switch to something else?”

“no,” sunghoon said sharply, holding the remote out of reach. “she’s about to skate.”

the other members exchanged curious glances but didn’t press further. as your name appeared on the screen, sunghoon’s focus intensified. he held his breath as you took your starting position, his eyes never leaving the screen.

every jump, every spin, every glide across the ice was met with a mixture of awe and tension from sunghoon. he held his breath at every attempt at a technical skill, his knuckles white as he gripped the remote. when you landed your triple lutz-triple toe combination flawlessly, he let out a small sigh of relief, his chest tightening with pride.

“she’s incredible,” jake muttered, impressed by your performance.

“she’s always been,” sunghoon replied softly, his voice filled with admiration.

as your program continued, sunghoon watched with bated breath, appreciating every element of your artistry. he knew the dedication it took to get to this level, and he could see it in every movement you made. when you struck your final pose, the applause from the audience was thunderous, but sunghoon could barely hear it over the pounding of his own heart.

then came the waiting—the excruciating moments before your scores were announced. sunghoon leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, his heart racing. when the scores finally flashed across the screen, confirming your silver medal, sunghoon’s breath hitched. his eyes filled with tears, and before he knew it, they were spilling down his cheeks.

the room fell silent as the other members noticed sunghoon’s reaction. they watched, concerned, as he wiped at his eyes, trying to compose himself. “hyung… are you okay?” jungwon asked gently.

sunghoon nodded, still struggling to keep his emotions in check. “she… she was my childhood best friend,” he explained, his voice trembling. “we used to skate together. we were always together on the ice. but… we lost touch after i had to replace my phone.”

the members’ concern shifted to understanding, and they offered quiet words of support. they had never seen sunghoon so emotional, so vulnerable, and it was clear just how much you meant to him.

“i’m sure she’d be proud to know you were watching,” jay said, giving sunghoon a reassuring pat on the back.

sunghoon smiled through his tears, nodding. “yeah… i hope so.”

after the olympics, you decided to spend three months in korea to celebrate and reconnect with the country you’d once called home. during your stay, enhypen was promoting their manifesto album, and you thought about how funny it would be if you got the chance to go to their fan sign—until it actually happened. when you called your mom about the invitation panicking, she shrugged and said, “do whatever feels right.”

so you decided to go—you were fans of the other members too. as you approached the table where the members were seated, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. the boys recognized you immediately, their faces lighting up with surprise.

“you’re… you’re the olympic silver medalist, right?” jake asked, eyes wide with admiration.

you nodded, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. “that’s me.”

“sunghoon always talked about you,” jay added with a grin. “you’re the only women’s figure skater he ever watched.”

you laughed, a little embarrassed but flattered nonetheless. “i didn’t know i had such a dedicated fan.”

as you moved down the line, jungwon was next, leaning in slightly with a curious expression. “he made us all watch your short program,” he said with a warm smile. “he wouldn’t let anyone change the channel.”

“he even threatened to hide the remote if we didn’t stop complaining,” ni-ki tattled with a playful grin when you reached him.

you couldn’t help but laugh at the image of sunghoon fiercely guarding the remote. “that sounds like him,” you said fondly.

sunoo, who was next in line, chimed in with a teasing tone, “when you landed that triple lutz-triple toe, i thought he was going to pass out from relief.”

heeseung, who was seated next to sunoo, nodded in agreement. “and when you got the silver medal, he cried. we were all kind of shocked… until he told us about you.”

you felt a warmth spread through your chest at their words, touched by the idea that sunghoon had been so invested in your performance. “i didn’t know he still cared so much,” you admitted, your voice soft.

“of course he does,” heeseung said, sincere and reassuring. “he’s talked about you a lot over the past few months. he was really proud of you.”

after making small talk with each member, you finally reached sunghoon. he didn’t register you at first, focused on signing your album. but when he looked up and saw you, his smile faded into an ‘o’ shape, eyes wide with shock.

“hi,” you said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“h-hello,” he mumbled, still trying to process who was sitting in front of him.

“it’s been a while,” you said, trying to ease the tension. he nodded, clearly still in disbelief, so you nudged his hand on the table to bring him back to reality.

a blush crept up his cheeks as he finally snapped out of his daze. “i… i didn’t expect to see you here.”

“well, i am a fan,” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

he stammered through compliments about your short program at the olympics, his usual confidence shattered by the unexpected reunion. you both tried to catch up in the short time you had, but before you knew it, it was time for you to go. just as you were about to leave, sunghoon quickly scribbled his number on your album.

“i’m really sorry for not texting you… all this time,” he said quietly. “i’ll explain everything if you give me a chance?”

you gave him a small, reassuring smile and nodded. “i’ll text you.”

later that day, as you sat in your hotel room, you found yourself staring at sunghoon’s number written on the album. with a deep breath, you typed out a message.

hey, it’s me. it was really good to see you today.

you hit send before you could overthink it. to your surprise, sunghoon’s reply came almost immediately.

it was good to see you too. i missed you.

a small smile tugged at your lips as you read his message. i missed you too. so... what happened?

there was a pause before his next message came through. i’m sorry. i broke my phone during training and lost all my contacts. i didn’t know how to reach out to you after that.

you felt a pang of guilt. i thought you had cut me off after you quit figure skating. i was worried.

no, never, sunghoon replied quickly. you were my best friend. i would never do that to you.

your heart warmed at his words. i’m glad to hear that. it was hard not hearing from you… especially after you stopped skating.

it was hard for me too, he admitted. i wasn’t sure if i made the right choice. but seeing you skate at the olympics… it reminded me of why i loved it so much. i’m so proud of you.

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. thank you, sunghoon. that means a lot coming from you.

you deserve it. you were always the better skater, he replied, a touch of teasing in his words.

you laughed softly, shaking your head. you were always so competitive. but we were both good in our own ways.

yeah, we were, he agreed. maybe one day we can skate together again, just for old times’ sake.

i’d like that, you typed, smiling at the thought. but only if you promise not to outshine me.

no promises, he teased back. but i’ll try my best.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment, and then sunghoon sent another message.

are you free tomorrow? maybe we could catch up properly.

you hesitated for a moment, thinking about your schedule, but then you decided that spending time with sunghoon was worth rearranging a few things.

i’m free, you replied. where do you want to meet?

how about the ice rink? he suggested. just like old times.

your heart skipped a beat at the idea. sounds perfect. i’ll see you there.

the next day, you arrived at the rink a little early, the familiar chill in the air bringing back a flood of memories. it wasn’t long before sunghoon showed up, a bright smile on his face as he approached you.

“i’m glad you came,” he said, his voice soft but filled with warmth.

“i’m glad you asked,” you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

you both laced up your skates in comfortable silence, and as you stepped onto the ice, it was as if no time had passed at all. the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, skating side by side, occasionally exchanging glances that spoke volumes.

“i missed this,” sunghoon admitted after a while, his gaze focused on the ice ahead. “skating with you. it feels right.”

“it does,” you agreed, your voice soft. “i’ve missed it too.”

you skated in silence for a few more minutes before sunghoon spoke again. “i was serious, you know. about being proud of you. when i watched you at the olympics… i was so happy for you. i knew you would make it.”

you looked over at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “thank you, sunghoon. that means more than you know.”

he smiled, a hint of his old competitive spirit shining through. “but just so you know… if i were still skating, i’d be aiming for that gold.”

you laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “i wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

as the two of you continued to skate, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this moment—for the chance to reconnect with someone who had been such an important part of your life. it wasn’t just about the skating; it was about the bond you shared, one that had withstood time and distance.

“so, what’s next for you?” sunghoon asked as you both slowed to a stop, leaning against the boards.

“i’m not sure,” you admitted. “i’m taking a break for now, but i’ll probably start training again soon.”

“you’ve earned that break,” he said, his tone serious. “but if you ever need someone to skate with… you know where to find me.”

“i’ll hold you to that,” you replied with a smile.

as you both left the rink that day, you knew that things had changed, but in the best way possible. your friendship had been rekindled, stronger than before, and no matter what the future held, you were certain that you’d always have each other.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. a/n: i love figure skater sunghoon... but i love enhypen's sunghoon more... ✧ comments are appreciated! ✧ !nanamlist

[greensaplinggrace]

the fact of the matter is that buffy ends up isolated no matter what the scoobies do because she bears the burden of the slayer alone at the end of the day and nothing can change that. the problem with this isn't that she's separate from them, it's that they don't want to acknowledge that she is, and in doing so they drive a wedge between them that just grows and grows. the best thing about spike is that he's similar enough to this other side of buffy to understand it and her by extension. he is the only person around who can support that side of her.

most of buffy's issues in season six stem from the scoobies rejecting a part of buffy that spike accepts. and this shame she feels for her reliance on spike and the presence of this darkness and isolation she cannot avoid is largely because of them. i'm sick of this bizarre assumption that pointing out where the scoobies go wrong in their relationship with buffy somehow equals an uncritical uplifting of spike. just because he understands her and represents a certain aspect of her doesn't mean he doesn't fuck up. i mean that's kind of the whole point of their season six dynamic. one of his biggest issues is that he thinks he's helping her by enabling her completely because he doesn't have the ability to properly identify the line between self acceptance and self destruction - pursuit of the id is one of his biggest character traits. that's what makes the end of season six and his decision to get the soul so interesting (although of course there's just as much i can say about the narrative framing of that in regards to lore consistency and the story's obsession with angel, but that's a whole other thing).

point is, the scoobies cannot understand all of buffy, and when they refuse to acknowledge this they destroy their chances of building any bridges to even a simple relationship with that other side of buffy or helping her carry that burden in any way. meanwhile, spike is in the proper position to understand buffy as the slayer and hold his own with her in such a way, but his definition of love is wholly obsessive and destructive. while i disagree that he's incapable of love and even of loving selflessly without his soul, i think spike's version of love in particular is self destructive in a way that enables buffy's own desire to hurt herself through hurting him (see the aforementioned shame regarding her shadow self). spike cannot identify why allowing buffy to give in to her dark side in such a way is bad because he struggles to understand how she could use this to resent herself - although i do think he realizes it's happening on some level.

spike is also buffy's only form of catharsis and the only one that actually listens to what she is saying during a time when everybody else is dismissing her because of the aforementioned inability to understand her as the slayer. it's a clusterfuck - and a clusterfuck that needed to be shattered with a hammer for any kind of relief. and quite frankly to disregard the scoobies' own part in this situation does a disservice to buffy as a character. to be honest, she deserves fucking better than what everyone in her life gives her, especially the scoobies, who grow to take her for granted and feel entitled to controlling her life as a way of keeping her conformed - again, due to the aforementioned lack of desire to acknowledge this other part of her that they cannot connect with.

which leads to season seven, where spike is the only person on the show who has developed and changed enough to remain at buffy's side helping her carry the burden. while everyone else suffered during season six, none of them opened their eyes to what they were doing to buffy - and if they did, none of them acted on it. spike is the only one to acknowledge the damage he's done and work to become better for buffy in any way he can. he is the only one that ends up able to carry that burden with her because he is the only one capable of facing the truth and acting on his desire to do better.

the fucking problem isn't that he hurt buffy - because to be quite frank everybody did - it's that he's the only person on the whole damn show to acknowledge his place in buffy's life, and to acknowledge the burdens she bears, and actively change himself for her. did you know he has almost all of the genuine apologies in the entire show? seven seasons and all of the harm the scoobies cause buffy, and it's fucking spike that is acting like a mature person capable of being a proper partner.

[reasonsforhope]

"Fencing offers a ray of hope to young people living in Nairobi's poorest neighbourhoods.

Despite a lack of equipment, the sword fighting sport is growing in popularity in Kenya.

They cut a striking group as they wander through Huruma in their pristine white outfits.

These young people are heading for their favourite hang-out spot: the Tsavora Fencing club at the local community centre.

The street becomes their arena as they parry and riposte in front of passers-by.

This is not just a hobby for them: it's a force for good in their lives.

Fencing has helped carve a path away from crime, drugs and other social pressures.

"I used to be a gangster," says Mburu Wanyoike, who is now a coach for Kenya's National Fencing team.

"I was in crime and crime makes you feel isolated. It actually puts you in a place where you are isolated, making you feel depressed, having stress and I chose fencing as a way for me to escape out of the hood and escape that lifestyle."

His journey from delinquency to fencing coach and senior athlete in Kenya's national team has been transformative.

Inspired by the personal tragedy of the death of two friends, Wanyoike pursued training and education in South Africa, ultimately founding Tsavora Fencing in 2021.

Tsavora Fencing has made significant strides.

The team has produced 15 talented fencers who have earned spots in the national squad, with plans to represent Kenya in the African Olympic Qualifiers in Algeria this year.

However, challenges persist, particularly regarding the affordability of fencing equipment.

"Sometimes it is tough when it comes to competing with well-equipped international countries that are well organized, so what we do is just to move on with enthusiasm and obsession. The fact that we don't have the equipment, the limited ones we have, we use them. We don't complain that we do not have equipment, we just use what we got and put in the obsession and the enthusiasm and the passion combined, that's what we do, we fence," says Wanyoike.

Tsavora Fencing Mtaani, an initiative under Tsavora Fencing, offers mentorship and training in fencing to the youth of these impoverished neighbourhoods, shielding them from the dangers of their environment.

With 45 members, most of whom are students, the team serves as a beacon of hope in the community.

Participants are required to become disciplined and put on integrity.

"Initially I had bad company at home but now that I am in fencing, it has kept me busy and now it is a better option for me because I feel happy doing it," says Jemimah Njeri, a 17-year-old member of Tsavora Fencing.

"I cannot imagine myself without this sport because it has kept me very busy. In my area many girls have become teenage mothers and that is not a wonderful life," adds 16-year-old Allen Grace...

As Tsavora Fencing continues to thrive, fuelled by the determination of its members and the support of the community, it stands as a testament to the transformative power of sport in, even the most challenging environments."

-via Africanews, April 1, 2024

[sailorgoon13]

Theodore Nott

Basics:

Full Name: Theodore Nott

Nickname: Theo

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 4 November, 1979

Heritage: English/ Italian

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Blackthorn, Unicorn hair, 11 3/4", Slightly Flexible

Appearance:

Hair Color: Dark brown, a bit fluffy

Eye Color: Striking baby blue

Skin Tone: Olive

Height: 6'

Body Type: Lean and athletic. Tall, well proportioned

Style: Well-fitted jeans or chinos paired with a crisp button-down shirt or a cashmere sweater. Accessories are key to his look, with luxurious touches like leather loafers, silk scarves, and perhaps even a designer watch or cufflinks. His color palette leans towards darker tones like charcoal, navy, and deep burgundy

Features: Confidence, Mysterious aura, Sharp wit, Distinctive voice, Leadership

Personality:

Traits: Reserved, Loyal, Manipulative, Intelligent, Emotionally Complex

Likes: Privacy, Fine literature, Refines tastes, Debates, Chess

Dislikes: Arrogance, Lack of ambition, Betrayal

Hobbies: Quidditch, Reading, Playing Piano

Fears: Vulnerability, Rejection, Turning to the Darker side

Family and Friends:

Father: Mr. Nott

Valued Pure-Blood status

Supporter of Voldemort's cause/ Death Eater

Mother: Mrs. Nott

Died when Theo was young

Instilled his love for literature and fine art

Taught him Italian

Friends: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Mattheo Riddle

Magic:

Special Abilities: His father taught him darker magic when he was young, though he doesn't like to use any of it. Particularly good at charms and hexes

Boggart: A memory of when he witnessed his mother dying

Patronus: Fox

Polyjuice: Would look velvety black with sparkling flecks of gold and silver. Smell like earthy Italian herbs and leather books with a hint of roses. It might taste like dark chocolate infused with hints of espresso and blackberry, with a subtle undertone of smoky oak and vanilla

Amortentia: Bergamont, Sandalwood, Freshly Brewed Coffee, Dark Chocolate

Backstory:

Theodore Nott was born into a prestigious pure-blood wizarding family, his childhood filled with the enchanting landscapes and rich cultural heritage of Italy. His mother, a talented witch with a passion for art, literature, and music, imparted upon him a love for the finer things in life. She taught him how to speak Italian, play the piano, and appreciate the beauty of the magical world around them.

However, Theodore's childhood took a tragic turn when his mother passed away, leaving him with a profound sense of loss. Compounding his grief was the revelation that his father, though also deeply devoted to his family, had been a follower of Voldemort. With Voldemort's downfall, Theo's father met his demise, leaving Theo with conflicting emotions and a sense of isolation.

Despite his father's past affiliations, he distanced himself from his family's dark legacy, choosing instead to honor his mother's memory by embracing the values she had instilled in him. He found comfort in the company of his friends, particularly during Christmas vacations and over the summer, when he would often stay with classmates Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, and Enzo Berkshire.

Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Theodore excelled academically and athletically, distinguishing himself as a talented and ambitious student. His keen intellect, strategic mind, and refined tastes set him apart from his peers, earning him both admiration and envy. Despite facing teasing and discrimination for his softer side and Italian accent, Theo remained resilient, drawing strength from the bonds of friendship that sustained him.

He discovered a passion for Quidditch, becoming the star keeper for the Slytherin team. With each dive and save, he felt a sense of freedom and exhilaration, leaving behind the weight of his worries and losses, if only for a moment.

Academics:

Best Subject: Charms

Favorite Subject: DADA (But he won't tell you its really Astronomy)

Favorite Professor: Flitwick

Worst Subject: Ancient Runes

Least Favorite Subject: Divination

Least Favorite Professor: Slughorn

Student Life:

Academically excels in his studies, particularly in subjects like Potions and Charms

A regular fixture in the Hogwarts library, spending hours poring over ancient texts and refining his magical skills, teaching himself a new language, (Or really just hiding behind a romance novel)

Respected by his classmates for his intellect and admired for his cool demeanor, though some may find him enigmatic or intimidating.

He enjoys spending time in the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, honing his skills as Keeper

He also indulges in his love for art, literature, and music

Girls at Hogwarts are drawn to Nott's confidence, intelligence, and refined tastes, finding themselves mesmerized by his cool demeanor and mysterious aura

While he remains discreet about his romantic interests, there is no shortage of girls vying for his attention and affection.

Template: @hazyange1s

[finisnihil]

2.2 Sunday analysis spoilers ahead

I think a scene that perfectly sums up the Dreammaster and his relationship with Sunday is the one where he’s breaking the news to Sunday that Robin was shot.

Sunday has just appointed head of the Oak Family, given a position of upmost power. The Dreammaster leads in by giving Sunday Robin’s letter and then he innocently asks if she mentioned a stray bullet. A stray bullet? Why would she mention a stray bullet? Robin is safe and happy, wherever could she run into a stray bullet?

Well, a war broke out on that planet she sought it out because of it. For the sake of the Harmony and saving lives… she went to the front lines. You know, where stray bullets tend to shoot down innocent birds?

Well, holy shit, is she okay? Of course I mean it only struck her neck directly but I guess because she is doing such glorious deeds Xipe saw fit let her sing a while longer still. You should write to her- oh no, you stupid boy, only after you finish your pressing work now that you're head, hm?

Let's break down the interaction, shall we?

Firstly, this show was meant to sever Sunday's trust in Robin and isolate him. Robin is the person Sunday cares about the most, his life is but a tool to maintain her happiness and he's not quiet about the fact he'd chose Robin over the Family. When Robin didn't want to sing for Ena in the final plan, Sunday betrays the Dreammaster by taking her place as the sacrificial lamb instead. Point being, Robin is Sunday's only real support system and his only access to something that hasn't been rotted by the Family's corruption. The Dreammaster starts the conversation by highlighting how Robin withholds information from Sunday. She didn't mention getting shot, she didn't mention going to a planet because of war, she didn't mention anything. She isn't telling Sunday when she's in danger. Sunday is already terrified of the world around him, of how bleeding hearts like his sister's and his suffer for their kindness. The Dreammaster going about things this way instills a layer of distrust, Sunday can't trust Robin to be honest with him, he can't trust Robin to be safe, he can’t trust her to trust him. Thus, Robin is taken out of the equation and Sunday is alone with only the Dreammaster in his ear.

Next, we drill in a blame of the Harmony. Robin serves the Harmony like a good child of Xipe but it's precisely that which put her in harm's way. Would she have gone into that situation if not for the ideals of the Harmony? The Dreammaster twists this logic in Sunday's head, whispering it was the Harmony that got his sister shot and mockingly noting that maybe the only reason Robin wasn't dead from it was because she served Xipe so well; he implies that if she failed to meet that nonexistent standard next time, maybe Xipe will let Robin die. Sunday can't trust Xipe to protect Robin because it was Xipe's will that almost killed her. Now he's more vulnerable for the ideals of Order to sing their claws in.

Finally, Sunday's lack of control is emphasized. Sunday has just been appointed Oak Family Head but he still has no control over anything. He can't act out of line because those who supported him may stop and if he fails to uphold the pristine image of the Family there will be hell to pay. Still, I think the most sinister thing about his lack of control is seen when the Dreammaster stresses that Sunday can only write back to Robin after he has finished his "outstanding tasks". He was just coldly told the person he cares most about in the world was almost killed without her deigning to inform him, and he can't even talk about it with her and make sure she's okay until he does his paperwork. The position of Family head is nothing but a formality and it isn't enough to save Robin, it isn't enough to save anyone. Sunday has never been in control so maybe... He should create a world where he has it through Order.

In the credits we see the Dreammaster refered to as "Sunday's Servant" but it's obvious the Dreammaster was the one who manipulated and pushed Sunday to this point, intensifying his trauma and pushing Robin out so he could be the only whisper in Sunday's ear, so he could warp Sunday to be the vessel of Order he wants from him.

This entire scene would have gone so much differently if the Dreammaster actually cared about Sunday but we can tell he doesn't. From the start Sunday has been a bleeding heart that bleeds more heavily every time he tries to alleviate suffering. He's trapped in the cage of Penacony and has come to think the buildup of broken dreams and pain he's exposed to is the way of the entire universe. Robin escaped but Sunday can't.

Sunday is ultimately responsible for everything he did but you can't ignore that the path he took to get here reeks of the Dreammaster's malicious influence. Gallagher notes Sunday is just like Misha in a lot of ways and I think that's why the Dreammaster honed in on him so intensely. Sunday had the potential to ruin everything if he took the path Robin and Misha did so he had to have his wings clipped and taught to think a cage means love, that Order is the way, not Harmony.

It's genuinely such a good sequence, the tension of it all makes it work so well. The fact that Sunday is haunted by it and that the Dreammaster so successfully got into his head without him really noticing. He basically did what Aventurine bragged about doing, exploiting Robin's suffering to hit Sunday where he's soft. The Dreammaster functionally set up a bomb and coaxed Sunday into being the one to set it off.

Sunday is a wonderfully written antagonist, but the Dreammaster is a wonderfully written villain.

[soscarlett1twas]

Been thinking about Andrew and Luca.

There’s something so special to me about these two men — outwardly, very different people, but they’re just so alike internally: both having a pretty isolated upbringing with little to no friends, then being thrust into college life and discovering love… and that’s where we see a rift. The outcome of that relationship diverts the course of their emotional journeys. That is, until they meet eachother.

Luca found success where Andrew did not. Luca’s college relationship landed him a fiancé, while Andrew’s was the first in a long chain of loneliness. Isaac left him, then his brother did, and all Andrew had was the choice to either drown in his feelings, or drown in work. He chose work. And that pivoted them to meet, as without Andrew’s drive, he never would have become the young professor Luca TA’d for. He built himself wax wings to soar; but we all know the end of that myth.

Luca, meanwhile, was with the love of his life. Someone who supported him relentlessly for simply being him. It’s pretty clear they have a set-in-stone happily ever after, for as much as even I don’t believe in them. But what’s interesting about this is that Luca is the abandoner. He left his family back in the US. He is happy without them, but he is also not the person who stayed. And we know he was going to — he admits to having planned returning to the States after uni. But he didn’t, because he found love. Love he figured was worth (physically) leaving his family and life for.

Sound familiar? Takes a similar bent to a certain twin’s, doesn’t it.

So it’s those choices which force them to meet. Andrew’s delve into work and Luca’s “running away.” Luca is initially terrified of Andrew while Andrew just sees Luca as his new TA. Both completely fair POVs.

That works for like a week, then Andrew and Darling’s scandal breaks. (An affair which I will say only happened because of Andrew’s crippling loneliness. Andrew wouldn’t have broken his morals so deeply if it weren’t for that fact he literally had nobody else, so desperate for some form of love that he turned to a damn student.) Darling, in the heat of their argument, pins some blame on Luca, accusing Andrew of having a fling with Luca. It’s ludicrous, and I doubt even Darling actually believed that, but it strikes a nerve with Andrew.

Something similar happens with Luca and Babe later. While it’s not as severe an accusation, Babe is jealous of the blooming friendship between our dear Marston and Pearce. Luca assures them that there is nothing going on because literally nothing is, except for the fact that both of their listeners have only observed these two lacking in something, which can be described in a lump sum as friendship.

It’s a rare moment of almost… misunderstanding? For the listeners? Luca and Andrew are both made better by their listeners. ‘Better’ in little, esoteric ways — parallel to the nature of love itself, because is love if not for the little things? — but better nonetheless. So I think to see that little spark of fulfillment in your partner fueled by another person was a moment of yes, misunderstanding.

Because they do begin to fulfill eachother.

Luca calls Andrew more of a ‘big brother’ than anything else. Andrew is the family Luca left behind. And Luca is Andrew’s friend, a role once taken by the people who left him, and it is not a job that can be taken up by a partner — romantic and platonic love are not the same, after all.

This all comes to a head when Andrew and Luca have their talk. The details are a little obscure, but from what I’ve picked up, it seems they spoke about engagement. Luca’s proposal to Babe, specifically.

This is the climax of two things: first, the building of a friendship between two people who spent their lives pretty devoid of that and two, their crossroads. Luca wants to have his family again, only this time, with the person he loves more than anything. Andrew is going steady with Darling and is in the position to have a heart-to-heart with someone who is coming to him as a friend, as a brother, even if Luca never fully expressed that to Andrew.

And it works out. Even if hidden in the vibrant hues of an Icarian crash and burn from Andrew (him losing his job), there are still strokes of bliss. Babe says yes. Luca and Andrew’s friendship grows. Darling and Andrew living peacefully, above all else, together.

Luca and Andrew aren’t even amazing friends, but still, they’re parallels and foils all at once.

They are eachothers closure and openings to a new life. They are brief moments, those passing friends who you see only so often, but still the shifting in a current. Because you don’t need some big, romantic love affair to be changed — you don’t even need a really good friend, you just need a friend.

Somebody.

And I think that’s neat.

[vechter]

👀 please elaborate on ur Cass and Damian thoughts, I’m also always thinking about what their dynamic could’ve been

omg i have so many!!!

okay, so initially, in batgirl 2009 #5 (iffy about character portrayals in this comic but that's a whole other thing), we see damian kind of anticipatory and even excited to meet cass:

it's super interesting to me because at that point, damian is still grappling with being a product of the league, still very much figuring out his role in this group of people his father chose.

and cass is one of them. cass, who's respected and considered formidable even by the loa. cass, who has also killed! i think in damian's eyes, they've had similar upbringings and he probably expects a certain degree of kinship with her.

because yes, dick, steph and alfred are coming to accept him, have purposely and actively showed that they care for him but they don't understand him! they don't know what growing up in that kind of isolation, with that demand for perfection is like.

damian's primary arc being dick's robin is about acceptance, from others but also, from himself! some heartbreaking panels below from red robin 2009 #14:

for damian, who is still actively fighting against his own instincts, who wasn't someone his father- a near mythical figure- chose, cass is someone who can, maybe, not only understand him but is also incontrovertible proof that people can change, that their childhoods don't define them. so, he already has somewhat high expectations for when they eventually meet, as we see in their first real interaction in gates of gotham 2011 #2:

gates of gotham is actually a great comic but unfortunately cannot consider the editorial nuance of cass being pushed aside by dc and removed from gotham entirely. but if you consider the implications, tim and steph definitely talk about her- probably dick and alfred, too. at this point, all of them respect and consider cass one of their own- she's accepted, she's even loved.

and that's probably something that damian is plagued and intrigued by. here's this girl who was brought up by someone the bats deem morally bankrupt, who changed her life around and went from being a would-be assassin to a hero (just like him!). she meets even his father's impossible standards, who has assigned her a whole city with batman inc. he lashes out at her when he thinks she hasn't accepted him (at this point, cass hasn't even done anything except come back to gotham lol so you can see how much damian struggles with acceptance, especially from someone he considers his peer!):

it's a deeply skewed view bc we know how much cass struggles with her own redemption but damian is still just a kid, lacking the emotional maturity to fully understand her.

i won't go into all the events of gates of gotham because it starts off with friction between them and they eventually end up working as a team and everything's sort of hunky-dory. but i think if flashpoint hadn't happened and we had actually gotten a deeply exploratory continuation of the nuances of the complicated bat-dynamics after bruce's return- we would definitely see more friction between cass and damian.

for cass, who sees everything- damian would be painful to witness. her own fears, her own guilt staring back at her. and i absolutely adore cass but she isn't going to be capable of tact or the kind of support that damian is passively seeking from everyone, but especially from her! cass is incredibly compassionate but her world-view is also so deeply jaded by her feelings about the life she took.

damian's initial robin tenure would be about developing his own moral code + coming to grips with what kind culpability he has in his own childhood- and cass would probably not see that bone-crippling regret and remorse and guilt she has, or even the one she often sees in bruce, and it would not sit right with her! sure, damian is a kid but she was a kid, too. and she can never get over what she did so for her to see damian coming to terms with his childhood would be like looking at a distorted reflection. i think it's also possible there would be something like- i don't want to say jealousy- but a complicated kind of resentment, not just from cass's end but also from damian's.

(also, a begrudging sort of respect from damian for cass's abilities expressed in somewhat snide comments)

this is not to say that they couldn't or wouldn't have a good dynamic! i think if they continued to spend time together, they would eventually come to an understanding (just like gates of gotham lol except a much more nuanced and complicated route to getting there) and while it would not be the kind of understanding either of them were expecting- it would be good! and there would be a very strong foundation of kindness in it.