#go out into the world little post... be free......

[llamagoddessofficial]

LLAMAAAAAAAA

WRITE MORE ABT FARMER (when you get the chance ofc)

AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!

Your life. Hand it over

---

It was the thickest rain you’d ever seen. It didn't fall like normal rain, it fell in layers, great arcs of water that thrashed the ground one after the other, stormy waves hitting a shoreline. The roar of it landing on the world around you was almost deafening - a problem, considering it was three in the morning, and you were walking in almost pitch black. Any other night you would’ve been guided through the seemingly-endless farmland by recognising the hedges and hearing the animals... right now, you were guided only by the weakened blueish light of your headlamp, and the best that your memory had to offer.

You spotted it, in the near distance. The tiny light of another lamp was flickering back and forth in the rain, moving with the speed and efficiency of a hard-at-work man who couldn’t wait to get out of the terrible weather and go back to bed. You quickened the pace, marching down the field, your waterproof pants were coated in cold mud up to the calves; you were glad you couldn’t feel it. The only wet part of you was your face, and hands - you needed the latter out to hold the big metal flask you were carrying.

You didn’t mind the wet and cold. You stomped on regardless. All you cared about was the sight of that head lamp, getting closer and closer in the relentless wind and rain. You could just about make out the things he was looking at, illuminated by his lamp... the part of the fence he was doing his best to repair.

Before you knew it, you were within shouting distance. But there was no point, he wouldn't hear you. A particularly strong gust rushed across the field, you felt a carpet of rain hit you in the back, and the wind shoved you ungracefully forward. You let out a little yelp but managed to stop yourself from falling over.

... You heard your name over the rain. He had noticed you. You looked up - his headlamp was angled slightly downward, rather than straight ahead, so it didn’t dazzle you like you expected it to. Sans was dressed in his usual farm gear, his heavy boots and thick waterproof pants, and the rain had washed his green jacket cleaner than you’d ever seen it before. His hood was pulled securely up over his skull and he had a fence post the size of you in one hand like it was nothing.

... And he was looking at like he’d seen a ghost. It was rather comical.

“There you are!” You picked up the pace for the last few steps, jogging over to him, before you finally came to a stop. Phew, you’d been walking for almost five minutes in the storm. It felt good to finally see him. Despite the cold, you were pretty flushed from the exercise, hot under the combination of your sweater and coat.

“what the hell are you doing out here?” His green eyelights glowed under his hood, like two soft fireflies, a much more pleasant colour than the cold lamplight both of you were bathed in. It was as if only the two of you existed in the whole world... two headlamps in an endless sea of dark and wind and water. “it’s two in the morning,”

“Three, actually,” you chirped. It was somewhat hard to hear him over the rain hitting your hood, but you just stood a little closer to him. Your hurried breaths formed clouds, you could see them in the combined lamp glow.

He put down the fence post. It dropped with an heavy thunk. “did papyrus send you?”

You just held the big metal flask out to him. It had a black strap attached to the side of it that was sodden by now. He accepted it, seemingly out of instinct, staring down at it before glancing back up to you.

“... uh... thanks. what is it?”

“Soup!”

He blinked. “soup?”

“Yeah. I woke up to the rain, and I figured you’d be out here, because you’d mentioned the fence needed fixing properly before the storm hit." You pulled your coat sleeves over your now-free hands. "Though I did ask Papyrus if you’d actually headed out before I left. I’m not that crazy.”

He was still staring. The rain continued to roar, you had really hoped it would've eased up by now. But it seemed to be only getting worse. Probably for the best Sans was repairing the fence now, before everything completely flooded come morning.

“I know, I know," you continued when he didn't reply. "I’m dumb for going out in the rain, I’ll get wet. But I’m fine, see? I put the waterproof pants on over my boots, like you said. It’s been raining like hell and the only part of me that’s wet is my hands!”

“you... came out all this way, to bring me soup?” he said, softly. You almost didn't hear him.

“Yeah. Pumpkin soup. Knowing you, you didn’t eat anything before you left.”

He had gone quiet. That wasn’t like him. He was looking at you very intently, with great big eylights. Another gust of wind sent a wall of rain into the two of you. You visibly swayed, but Sans didn't seem affected by it.

Was he upset that you might get cold? He didn't look upset, his eyelights were so round, almost sparkly.

“I promise I’m not cold," you pressed. "This is the coat you lent me. See? It’s - ” 

Sans moved forward a step. It was all he really needed to close the gap between you. He put an arm around you, despite the flask in hand, and swept you in against him; you were too startled by the sudden movement and proximity to move or do anything. His free hand came up, sliding between your coat hood and the side of your cheek, cupping your face.

He leant in and kissed you.

...

For a moment, you couldn’t hear the rain. You couldn’t hear anything at all. All you could think about was how smooth his hand was, how nice he smelled, how hard your heart was beating, and how warm he was. After so long walking around in the rain, being pulled in close to him felt incredible.

He felt so strong, too. All night, you'd been pushed around by any breath of wind, no matter the direction. In his arms? Nothing moved you. Nothing could shake you.

... Your eyes closed. Maybe it was the dark and gale and rain, maybe it was how early it was in the morning. But you just didn’t want him to let you go.

...

Sans pulled back. Your eyelids fluttered open again. There were raindrops on his skull, and the lamplight was dancing over his bones. His eyelights are such a pretty colour. He was looking at you like he wanted to pick you up and walk home with you.

...

Then, in an instant, the reality of what he just did appeared to hit him. So close to him, you could watch in real time as his eyelights shrank into pins in his sockets, and his smile twitched in what you could only describe as total internal panic.

... You, too, started to do the worst possible thing - think.

Sans just... kissed me. Sans just kissed me.

... You both just stared at each other, he was still holding you. You had no idea for how long. Sans’ eyelights kept flickering between your eyes and your nose, and you kept staring blankly at him, dazed and suddenly very confused.

...

“I-I should, head back,” you started, nervously.

“yeah. uh... yeah.” His hand came off your face, and he let go of your waist, stepping back again. You immediately missed the warmth. “thank you for the soup."

You nodded.

"i’ll..." He sounded shaky. He held onto the flask with both hands, maybe to stop himself from fidgeting. "see you later?”

"You too," you stammered.

... Wait. Shit.

No idea what else to say or do, you stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, trying to formulate something to say or some interesting witty way to turn that fuck-up into a joke and end the conversation - but you had absolutely nothing. Your head was spinning, your heart was still beating a mile a minute, you couldn’t believe that had really just happened. So you just turned right around and started walking.

...

Holy fuck, you thought, pulling your hood tight over your head. What the hell am I going to tell Papyrus?

[loveesiren]

𝖤𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 (𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖳𝗐𝗈)

Rafe Cameron x Reader | Part One

a/n: Here's part two! Thank you for all the love on this mini series. I'll be posting part three on Monday!

synopsis: Y/N has always been close to the Cameron family, practically a part of it after years of friendship. Beneath the surface, unspoken feelings simmer between her and Rafe, but neither of them can muster the courage to admit it. When Y/N finally decides to move on, setting her sights on a new man, he’s forced to confront the truth: losing her might cost him more than he ever realized.

warnings: language, slight angst

wc: 2.4k+

Your date with JJ was going surprisingly well. Dinner at the club had been set up by Sarah—she knew JJ wouldn’t exactly be the “wine and dine” type on his own but figured he’d appreciate the effort. To his credit, he carried the conversation effortlessly, keeping you laughing and genuinely interested.

“Sarah was nice to set this up,” JJ said, his trademark grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, dinner was great!” you replied, your bubbly tone matching the sparkle in your eyes.

JJ leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What do you say we finish the night a little more Pogue style?” he asked, his smirk dripping with mischief.

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, curious. “And what does that entail?”

“A kegger at the Boneyard,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “We’ll take my bike. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The club was elegant, sure, but it felt lifeless—hardly what you’d call a Saturday night. A bonfire and a few drinks sounded like the perfect way to round out the evening. “Okay, I’m in!”

JJ’s grin widened as he stood, offering you his hand. He led you out of the club and to his bike, pulling the helmet off the handlebars. “Safety first,” he said with a wink, holding it out to you.

Butterflies danced in your stomach as you bit your lip, taking the helmet from him. You slipped it on and climbed onto the bike, your sundress brushing against his jeans as you wrapped your arms snugly around his waist.

“Ready?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Definitely,” you replied, your voice filled with excitement.

JJ revved the engine, and the bike roared to life beneath you. The wind whipped through your hair, and you let out a delighted squeal as the adrenaline rushed through your veins. The sunset painted the world in warm hues of orange and pink as the scenery blurred past. For those few moments, you felt completely free.

The ride ended too soon, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to the Boneyard. JJ helped you off the bike, his hands brushing yours as you removed the helmet and shook out your beachy waves. The soft breeze teased the hem of your dress as you adjusted it, your cheeks flushed from the ride.

Rafe saw you the moment you arrived. He’d heard the rumble of JJ’s bike and had turned just in time to see you hop off, your arms still lingering around JJ’s waist. His heart skipped a beat—first from concern at seeing you on a motorcycle, then from something much darker.

He watched you in silence, his grip tightening around the drink in his hand. You moved effortlessly, like something out of a dream, your smile lighting up the beach as you waved hello to everyone. JJ had an arm draped casually around your shoulders, and the proud, almost smug look on his face made Rafe’s blood boil.

He sipped his drink, trying to ignore the sharp twist in his chest as you ran off to Sarah, no doubt eager to gush about the date. He turned back to the bonfire, pretending not to notice you spotting him from across the flames. But then you waved, your excitement palpable. Rafe mustered a smile and waved back, the motion feeling heavier than it should have.

“Hey, Rafey!” you called, bounding toward him.

“Hey,” he replied, forcing a grin as you wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug. The scent of your perfume lingered in the air, softening him for just a moment.

“How was your date?” he asked, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

“It actually went really well!” you beamed, your enthusiasm making his heart sink. “JJ’s really funny,” you added, glancing back at the boy in question. JJ was deep in conversation with Pope and Kiara, gesturing animatedly.

Rafe swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he fought to keep his tone light. “Good. I’m glad,” he said, though the words tasted bitter. Glad? He wasn’t glad. He wasn’t anywhere close to glad. He was furious, jealous, and heartbroken all at once.

You didn’t seem to notice his strained smile, too focused on the drinks table. “I just came to grab some drinks,” you explained, filling two cups with beer from the keg. “But don’t worry—tomorrow, I’m all yours! I’ll bring lunch, and we can finish unpacking your place.”

Rafe forced a smile. “Sounds perfect,” he said, even though the idea of unpacking felt hollow compared to the sight of you glowing after your date.

You flashed him one last dazzling smile before hurrying back to JJ, the two drinks in hand. Rafe’s eyes followed you helplessly as you leaned into JJ, handing him a cup and laughing in a way Rafe had never seen before. It was a carefree, uninhibited laugh—like JJ had unlocked a piece of you that Rafe hadn’t been able to reach.

And then he saw it.

JJ tilted your chin up with his hand, his lips brushing softly against yours in a way that felt both casual and intimate. The sight hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, his chest tightening as a sharp sting pricked his eyes. He blinked hard, willing the tears away.

“You good, dude?” Topper’s voice broke through the haze. He clapped a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, offering him another beer.

Rafe’s gaze didn’t waver from the two of you down the beach. “Yeah,” he muttered, though his voice was hollow.

Topper followed his line of sight and let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he said simply, patting Rafe on the back. “Come on, dude. Let’s get shitfaced.”

Rafe tore his eyes away from you, taking the beer from Topper. He didn’t trust himself to look at you again. Instead, he drained the cup in one long gulp, the alcohol doing little to dull the ache in his chest.

Because for the first time, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what jealousy felt like. And it wasn’t just jealousy—it was fear. Fear that he might have already lost you to someone else. Fear that he’d never be able to tell you just how much you meant to him.

You weren’t just a fleeting crush, or some girl who came and went. You were Y/N. His best friend. His ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark world.

And now, you might never be his.

Despite your pounding headache and a stomach still queasy from the night before, you kept your promise to Rafe. You had fallen asleep peacefully in JJ’s arms on the beach, lulled by the soft crash of waves and the warmth of his embrace. But the morning was far less forgiving. The bright sunrise pierced through your closed eyelids, the wind stung your skin, and the sand clung stubbornly to every surface.

JJ had been sweet, though, giving you a ride back to your car, still parked at the club. He kissed you goodbye, his lips soft but brief, and you couldn’t help but smile as you drove to Rafe’s house.

“Hey!” you greeted, your usual cheerful tone intact, though your face gave away the telltale signs of a hangover.

Rafe opened the door, his expression soft but guarded. “Hey,” he replied with a half-smile, stepping aside to let you in.

The moment you flopped onto his couch, Rafe went into caretaker mode. He handed you a liquid IV packet and a greasy breakfast sandwich, his silent way of nursing you back to life.

“You’re the fucking best,” you said through a mouthful of bacon, smiling as the salty, greasy goodness worked its magic. “Thank you!”

Rafe smiled back, but his eyes told a different story. Beneath the surface, there was something heavy, something unspoken.

“Are you okay?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as you studied his face.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, brushing off your concern. “Just had a bit too much to drink last night, too.” He averted his gaze, avoiding the real reason for his melancholy.

Before you could press him further, a knock at the door interrupted. Sarah burst in, John B trailing behind her.

“Ugh, kill me now!” Sarah groaned dramatically, throwing herself into your arms. “Why did we drink so much?!”

You chuckled, smoothing down her knotted hair. “Because we’re dumbasses,” you teased, and she whined in agreement.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rafe asked, his voice tinged with mild annoyance. “We already moved all the furniture.”

“Needed to get away from the house,” John B said, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Figured we’d help unpack.”

You glanced at Rafe, offering a soft, understanding smile. You had been looking forward to spending the day alone with him. There was something simmering beneath the surface, something he wasn’t saying, and you wanted to help him let it out. But with Sarah and John B here, that wasn’t going to happen.

Rafe’s smile in return was faint and sad. There it was again—the longing in his eyes, the weight of words left unsaid. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it tugged at your heart.

The day dragged on for Rafe. While he and John B worked in tense silence, he could hear your laughter from the other room as Sarah bombarded you with questions about JJ.

“So, do you like him?” Sarah asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Yeah, the date was great,” you admitted, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’d love to see him again.”

The words were like shards of glass in Rafe’s ears, cutting deep. His stomach churned with every mention of JJ’s name, and it only got worse as the conversation continued.

“Can you guys talk about anything else?” John B finally said, shooting a pointed look at Sarah.

Sarah rolled her eyes but giggled, turning the conversation toward the TV show you’d been binging together.

Rafe visibly relaxed at the shift in topic, though the tension in his shoulders remained.

“You like her, don’t you?” John B asked quietly, his voice low enough that you and Sarah couldn’t hear.

“Is it that obvious?” Rafe replied, placing books on the shelf in front of him, his movements deliberate and slow.

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

Rafe hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “She doesn’t feel the same,” he said finally. “We’re just friends.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t you hear the way she talks about him?” Rafe gestured toward the living room where your laughter rang out like music. “She’s happy. That’s all I want for her.”

John B studied him for a moment, then sighed. “Look, man. JJ’s my best friend, and he’s a great guy. But…”

“But what?” Rafe asked, his voice sharp with urgency.

“But JJ will move on,” John B said, his tone calm and measured. “If it doesn’t work out, he’ll be fine. He’s got options—Kiara’s had a thing for him forever anyway.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened as he absorbed John B’s words. He wanted to believe them, wanted to think there was still a chance for him. But after a long moment, he shook his head.

“It’s not my choice,” Rafe said quietly. “It’s hers. If JJ makes her happy, then that’s what matters. I’d never forgive myself if I ruined it for her.”

John B nodded, his respect for Rafe growing. “That’s big of you,” he said.

Rafe didn’t respond, his focus fixed on a box of photo frames.

He knew what it would mean to keep quiet—to watch from the sidelines as you fell deeper into someone else’s arms. But no matter how much it hurt, he wasn’t going to risk your happiness. If things didn’t work out with JJ, Rafe would be there to pick up the pieces. And if they did, he’d swallow his pain and smile for you—even if it killed him inside.

Because to Rafe, your happiness was worth more than his own.

-

John B and Sarah called it a day around 6 p.m., leaving just you and Rafe on the balcony. The sun was still hanging low in the summer sky, casting everything in a warm, golden light. The air was soft and salty, carrying the gentle crash of waves from the shore below. You and Rafe cracked jokes and laughed, sipping cold beers as the hours melted into one another.

Rafe’s smile seemed effortless, and you relished seeing him that way. What you didn’t notice was the way his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking—admiring the way your sun-kissed skin glowed and the way your beachy waves fell perfectly over your shoulders. It felt peaceful, like nothing could disturb the calm of the moment.

Until your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen, and a wide smile stretched across your face. Rafe noticed instantly, his heart sinking as he already knew who it was.

“Hey, uh, JJ wants to pick me up,” you said, your tone light. “Is it okay if I leave my car here for now?”

Rafe’s smile faltered, replaced by a frown he couldn’t hide.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your brow furrowing with concern.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” he muttered, his voice clipped and cold as he took another swig of beer.

“Rafe… is something wrong?” you pressed, sensing the shift in his mood.

“Nope,” he said flatly, standing abruptly and heading inside.

You scoffed, setting your beer down as you followed after him. “Something is obviously wrong, Rafe,” you said, your voice firm but confused. “I’ve seen it in your eyes these past few days. Just tell me what’s going on!”

Rafe stopped, his jaw tight as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “Just go, Y/N. Get out,” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air between you.

You froze, stunned. Rafe had never spoken to you like this before. Tears pricked your eyes as you processed his words. For a moment, you wanted to yell back, to demand an explanation, but the lump in your throat made it impossible.

“I’ll get out,” you whispered, grabbing your bag with trembling hands. You texted JJ to meet at his house instead, desperate to get far away from Rafe.

Rafe watched from the window as your car disappeared down the road. The weight of regret settled over him. He clenched his fists, hating himself for lashing out at you. You didn’t deserve that. Not even close.

In an attempt to dull the pain, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and locked himself in his room, determined to drink away the ache in his chest.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list! :)

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001 @seojunandsoju @niktwazny303 @jjmaybankmylovee @simp4f1 @faephoria @toftomgmf @bunnykoo901 @adarkskinarchives @millietozier @babybreadamericano @hwaaholic @dilfluvr4evr @wtfdudesblog @harrys-housewife @sereneera @lizziesangel

[honeytonedhottie]

fostering and living out confidence⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁🍬

CONFIDENCE ANALOGY ;

think of unshakable confidence as a fragrance, there are three layers to fragrance, the base note, mid note and the top note. thats what makes the fragrance stick and creates the scent we love so so much. confidence is similar in that way, its not just a mask or a front, at least not authentic confidence.

SOOO after thinking of this analogy im going to structure todays post like that, just to keep things simple and easy to apply. anyways, lets talk about confidence…💬🎀

BASE NOTE ;

the base of self confidence is self love. period. you can think of a billion other ways to say this but the base will never change. the base of ur self confidence is how much you love yourself. so how do we get a strong base? a strong foundation of self love thats gonna make sure that our self confidence remains intact?

start treating yourself like someone that u care about. treat urself like you would a friend, would you criticize them harshly for every mistake? would you tear them down when they’re struggling? no, you’d encourage them, remind them of their worth, and help them grow. now it’s time to do that for yourself. cuz why are u treating others better than u treat urself?

a really important aspect of self love is FORGIVENESS. forgiving yourself and having compassion for yourself cuz we hold ourselves to such a higher standard then we do others, especially if you're a perfectionist. and that can become really toxic, really quickly.

MID NOTE ;

the mid note of self confidence is trust in yourself. it’s the belief that you can handle whatever life throws your way. it’s knowing that even if you stumble, you’ll figure out how to get back up. its knowing that YOU'LL HAVE UR BACK even if others dont. we can build up our self trust by...

♡ doing what we say we'll do

♡ following thru on promises made to ourselves

♡ practicing self discipline

♡ trust ur gut feeling

♡ say no when u dont want to do something

some words that u can add to ur vocabulary to be more confident and advocate for urself properly is "absolutely not" or simply NO. theres so much power in the word NO so make sure to use it more…💬🎀

♡ honor your feelings and honor your wants + needs

self confidence is the mid note of confidence because without self trust, ur confidence wavers because you’re constantly second guessing your abilities and choices and thats not sustainable at all. you have to know and TRUST that ur that girl. bcuz u are.

TOP NOTE ;

the top note of confidence is how u express yourself. its the top note because thats what radiates outward and its how the world notices u first. self expression is how you own ur individuality, how you voice ur own opinions. how u express urself AUTHENTICALLY. in essence, self-expression is about living boldly and unapologetically as you. because isnt it so freeing to just be who you are? now what are some ways we can cultivate our self expression?

♡ having creative outlets

♡ exploring ur interests

♡ having ur own personal style, signature, brand etc

♡ journalling

GET COMFY IN UR OWN SKIN ; 

i feel like the most confident people are dancers. i feel this way cuz of the way my own confidence SKYROCKETED after i started dancing. i feel like dancing gives u a sense of control over ur own body and its just amazing.

whenever i feel like i need a little boost of confidence or i wanna feel sexy and good in my own skin i DANCE. and i promise that it helps so so much. i dance around in my room in my panties all the time and it’s like therapy. 

embarrassment does NOT exist, stop making urself feel awkward or embarrassed for making mistakes sometimes, learn to laugh and not take everything so seriously.

ALTER EGO CONCEPT ;

an alter ego is a persona you create—someone you embody when you need to channel certain traits, strengths, or energies that you might not fully feel in your everyday self…💬🎀 

using an alter ego is super helpful when it comes to confidence because it helps u to detach from ur insecurities. you temporarily set aside your fears and limitations and adopt the mindset and behaviors of your alter ego.

using alter egos can even help u to access different strengths that u never knew u had because ur removing the limitations that u place on urself. lets talk about how to create an alter ego.

HOW TO CREATE AN ALTER EGO ;

first start off by identifying the traits that u want to have, then give ur alter ego a name and an identity. u can even go as far as to visualize ur alter ego, anchor them with symbols, and practicing embodying them. some examples of people who used the alter ego concept include beyonce with sasha fierce, and kobe bryants black mamba.

[burrowdarling]

Home With You

Summary: You and Joe head back to your hometown to spend the holiday with your parents.

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: None, just some holiday fluff :)

Note: Hi all! This was requested by some anons and @beautifultragedyexpert so I combined them into this one fic. Some fluffy holiday Joe on game dey!

Word Count: 2k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

There was something so nostalgic about Christmas in your hometown. The Main Street is fully decorated in lights, bows on the lamp posts, the town tree illuminated with lights of all colors in the middle of the park. It was only around 6pm, but the streets were already beginning to disperse from all of the early travelers. The soft flurry of snow was a nice touch to your reminiscing, adding to the scene in front of you. 

You hadn’t been here for the holidays in quite a bit, having mainly spent them with Joe and his family in Ohio. Your parents would come out to visit, but it felt like this was the right year to be home. In the fast-paced hustle of the season, it was nice to slow down and breathe surrounded by something familiar.

Joe had never been to your hometown, leaving him to chuckle at how you were excitedly pointing things out from the passenger seat. Your small town felt like a stark contrast to the city Joe had grown up in. There was so much you were dying to show him about where you grew up, reveling in the moment by pointing out your favorite shops or restaurants as you drove past with a promise to explain more later. There was a feeling of your childhood laid out around you as Joe drove the same streets you once used to, unsure of where you would end up when you got older. It was healing to be able to tell your younger self that you were happy with the one you loved, coming home felt like a reunion with the little you. 

“What are you thinking about over there, babe?” Joe asked, reaching a hand out to strike your thigh before giving it a light squeeze. The gesture offering you a feeling of comfort as you pulled yourself out of your thoughts for a brief moment.

“Just how content I am with the life we have together. If you had told me years ago that I’d one day be driving back here with the love of my life to spend the holidays together, I would’ve asked if you were dreaming” you said with a light laugh. 

“I love you so much sweetheart, I wouldn’t want to do this life with anyone else but you” Joe said looking over to you with a look that showed that he meant every word he said. You felt your cheeks heat, having a hard time fully taking in his words. Joe could be extremely heartfelt, but It wasn’t always easy for you to process the full gravity of them.

You gave him a small smile as you turned towards the window, watching the world go by. The quiet streets you once found to be boring, offering you a feeling of solace from the busy life you’ve come to know. You could feel happy tears begin to well in your eyes, truly feeling at peace with coming home.You were sure it was going to be a special trip home. 

You had finally made it to your parents house, pulling up the driveway like you used to and everything still as you left it. You both hopped out of the car, Joe making quick work to unload your bags while you went up to the door, giving a brief knock before entering. Your mom was in the kitchen finishing up dinner while you dad was setting the table.

You and Joe greeted them both with hugs and smiles, Joe immediately being swept into football talk with your dad. You shook your head, throwing a knowing look at your mom who’s face mirrored your own. You made your way to the kitchen to help her finish up any loose ends. You helped her get everything set at the table, ready to dive into a good home cooked meal.

“I was thinking we could decorate the tree after dinner, we wanted to wait for you like old times” you mom said as she scooped some food onto her plate. A wide grin broke out over your face, looking over to your mom.

“Yeah we’d love to, that sounds great” you said, looking over to Joe whose eyes were already on you. His look was full of love, resting a hand on your thigh giving you three squeezes as a way to say ‘I love you’. You all engaged in conversation for the remainder of dinner, catching up on each other's lives and what has changed here since you were last home.

You all cleaned up after dinner and made your way to the living room where the fire was going and the tree was lit, waiting to be decorated. Your mom started to open all of the different boxes of ornaments, Joe getting a kick out of the ones you made as a kid. 

“You were quite the artist in your childhood, huh” Joe chuckled as he found a particularly ‘crafty’ ornament, having drawn your family as a bunch of stick figures next to a ‘Picasso level’ christmas tree. You took it from him to inspect your work, holding it out to admire it like an art critic. Your parents laughed at your actions, getting a kick out of the scene unfolding in front of them between you two.

“Hey, I tried my best, okay? At least you can tell what it is” you said as Joe took the ornament from you and placed it front and center on the tree. “Gotta display the art properly since it’s so museum worthy” Joe laughed as he spoke. Your parents watched the two of you, giving you loving looks at your dynamic.

You all continued to decorate, Joe lifting you up onto his shoulders to palace the star on top of the tree. You stood back to admire your work, Joe slinging his arm over your shoulders and leaving down to place a kiss on top of your head. 

After decorating the tree and some small talk in front of the fire, you and Joe had retired up to bed, saying your goodnights to your parents. In mentioning everything being the same, your room was no different. It was as if time stopped in here, your parents leaving everything as you had it. 

Your walls were still adorned with band posters, though there were far less than there used to be. You would’ve deemed yourself to be quite the fangirl back in the day, never being one for sports until you met Joe. You preferred to stay in listening to music, drawing, or diving into your books. Your bookcase was still full of everything you used to read, instantly bringing you back to the countless late nights you would stay up late finishing a good read. You had a small desk covered in your old artwork you used to work on, all of your different mediums sorted along the edge. Your queen bed was pushed into the corner of the room full of pillows and blankets, giving a cozy vibe to it. You still had your lights up around the edge of your ceiling, plugging them in to see if they still worked and they had. Being in here took you back to being in your safe place, having taken years to get everything how you wanted it. 

Joe took in his surroundings, being able to get a glimpse into the younger you and put a image to how you described yourself when you first started dating. He walked to your bookcase, poking at your different books and knick knacks that you had littered throughout it.

“So, what do you think? Kinda wild that they kept everything the same huh?” you asked, watching Joe take in your room.

“Your room is adorable, we’ll have to get a poster of me to add to your shrine of celebrities on your wall” Joe joked, gesturing to your countless posters of different bands or artists. “Seems like you had a type though, weird that you went for the football player.”

“Hey, you know I had no idea you played when I first met you. You act as if i was always going to football games every weekend” you said, feigning fake offense at his words.

“I know, baby. You were my little bookworm in college, I always knew I could come home to you and your nose would be buried in a book. I did appreciate when you’d come to my games though, just like I do now.”

“I’m gonna be so honest and say that I think you’re the first boy I’ve brought in here” you said, feeling Joe come up behind you as his arms wrapped around your waist. The admission felt right to tell him, even if it would only feed his ego more.

“Somehow that makes this even more special that I get to be the first and last” Joe said, spinning you around and pulling you tighter into the hug. “What do you say we do a little christening then, hmm?”

You pulled back a bit giving him a light slap to his chest, “Joseph Lee, my parents are under the same roof” finding it hard to fight off a smile. He grinned back at you, bringing his hands up to your jaw to pull you back into his body, resting your foreheads against one another.

“We don’t have to go that far, but I do know that I want those lips on mine. We can be very teenager about it with a classic makeout” Joe said as he captured your lips in a slow kiss. You could feel things begin to heat up a little as he walked you backwards towards your bed. 

You crawled backwards toward the headboard, Joe following you as you settled back into each other. It had been awhile since you guys had been able to really take things this slow and just enjoy exploring one another. With the busy season, it was nice to be with one another with no pressure for anything more. A smile crossed your lips at the thought, feeling Joe smile back into the kiss before locking your lips together again.

After quite the makeout session, you found yourselves tucked under the covers with your head resting on Joe’s chest. You felt yourself beginning to drift off until Joe spoke up.

“Do you ever think about what things would be like if we were just a normal couple?” he asked, the dark room giving him a sense of confidence to speak the words he;s been thinking about all night.

“Define normal because I feel like normal is pretty subjective” you laughed lightly, propping yourself up to get a better look at him.

“You know, the typical dates, sunday mornings, and holidays with family - everything that comes with a normal relationship. I know it can be hard to be with me, feeling like everything you do is scrutinized under a microscope and no air to breathe sometimes” Joe’s honesty gave you a pang of hurt in your chest at how he feels.

“Joey just because your job is abnormal doesn’t mean our relationship is. I love everything about you and that we get to still do things like this together. I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world, I would choose you in this life and every other” you spoke as you stroked his jaw softly, feeling him lean into your touch.

“You always know the right thing to say, thank you for being my person and choosing me everyday” he spoke as he gave you a quick kiss.

“Loving you is the easiest thing I do,” you said as you snuggled in closer to him. You were always home when Joe was around, being with your parents made the holidays that much more special.

[throwsahammer]

Okay, wait, this "Blood Atonement" thing is the belief that... If I understand it correctly, Christ's sacrifice did not fully eliminate the need for sacrifice to atone for sin, and certain sins required the blood sacrifice (Voluntary or otherwise) of the sinner to achieve salvation?

As an atheist with protestant roots this strikes me as shockingly heretical in its departure from ordinary Christian doctrine.

I'm not sure I entirely have a question other than "Am I understanding correctly" and I guess "What the heck?"

It's a bit more complicated than that, but you've got the basic idea.

There are two foundational concepts that you need to understand in order to fit blood atonement into Mormonism properly, and those are Perdition and Having Your Calling and Election Made Sure (I'm going to abbreviate the second one).

Perdition is the condition of being sentenced to outer darkness, which sounds pretty straightforward. It's basically just the standard protestant idea of hell. However, unlike protestantism's concept of Jesus's atonement being infinite in the sense that it's open for anyone to opt into, Mormonism believes that the atonement is infinite in that it guarantees salvation for everyone regardless of personal decision. The whole concept of a tiered heaven can, therefore, be based entirely on personal merit and the completion of specific ordinances, as it's ostensibly built around the idea of growing into the sort of person who would actually be comfortable living there, and not about whether or not Jesus paid the price of admission for that specific individual.

This creates a real-world problem, though: the threat of damnation is an indispensable tool in the arsenal of a religious leader who wants to coerce people into taking certain actions, and Joseph Smith is at this point in history desperately in need of a stick with which to threaten people into compliance. So he develops a new kind of threat based on the figure of Cain. The basic idea of perdition is that there are certain acts that alter their perpetrators on a metaphysical level to the point where they can't exist within god's presence even a little bit, and will not be able to live in any kingdom of glory post resurrection. (There's a whole tangent about mormon cosmology I'm not going into here, but the short version is that the kingdoms of glory operate via divine Reaganomics, and terrestrial and telestial glory are the result of god's celestial glory trickling down).

So, the two sins that damn one's soul and body to perdition are "the shedding of innocent blood" and "denying the holy ghost." The first one is mostly employed rhetorically as a point of comparison and serves to underscore how serious the second one is. What exactly constituted a sufficient degree of apostasy to qualify as perdition-worthy was left intentionally vague by Joseph in order to enable him to threaten people from a position of unquestionable authority. It's all pretty standard new religious movement stuff so far.

But now you run into a different problem: if murder is a potentially soul-threatening act, then you're going to need to waste time manufacturing a spiritual casus belli against anyone you need removed, and nobody who is trying to build a kingdom for themselves has time for that. Enter the second piece of the puzzle: HYCaEMS. Eventually known as the Second Anointing, HYaCEMS is the ultimate theological get-out-of-jail-free card, where the prophet guarantees you a spot in the celestial kingdom, and from that moment onward there's nothing you can do to disqualify yourself from it.

So now Joseph Smith has invented everything he needs to build his empire: a message of universal salvation to appeal to the masses that directly addresses the contemporary debates of protestantism, the ability to leverage the ultimate threat against any man who questions his leadership or any young girl who doesn't want to sleep with him, and the ability to offer the ultimate reward to his inner circle in exchange for their cooperation in carrying out his dirty work. He gets shot to death before he can do very much with any of this.

So now the stage is all set for Brigham Young to build upon the foundation his successor built. He expands Smith's nascent ideas into a fleshed-out universe. The curse of Cain is developed into mormon doctrinal racism, the law of consecration is developed into Deseret's United Order, and Joseph's early concepts of exaltation are developed into the ever-expanding hierarchy of gods.

In case you haven't figured out by now, Mormonism is built on a foundation of nitpicking specific semantic details and then extrapolating entire theological concepts from there. Blood atonement is primarily the result of Brigham Young doing exactly this with how blood is talked about in the scriptures alongside the use of the phrase "flesh and bone" instead of "flesh and blood" in specific contexts. Joseph Smith (and other contemporary religious figures, most notably those who would go on to form the Jehovah's Witnesses) had spoken quite a bit about blood and the symbolic and spiritual importance thereof, but Mormonism's unique contribution to the conversation was the idea that blood was mortality. Adam and Eve did not have blood until the fall, and Jesus didn't have blood after his resurrection. Blood contained both the curse of physical death and was also a metaphorical vessel for the soul, containing the sins of man, and therefore also carrying the curse of spiritual death. The most important moment of Jesus's life, according to Mormonism, was when he prayed in Gethsemane, as that's when he physically took the universe's sins onto himself and literally bled from every pore out onto the earth, as that's when he conquered spiritual death.

Still with me? Good. Now is where I need to talk about how mormon cosmology is built around the idea that planets, stars, the sun, and other heavenly bodies are living beings. Not in a metaphorical way but in a more literal sense. Stars and planets (including the sun) are essentially divine beings, home to beings that correspond to their degree of glory. This is important because Earth was also affected by the fall and became mortal and required all of the same saving ordinances as a human would. The flood of Noah was the earth's baptism (which means that according to this worldview, the entire earth was fully submerged under water), and the eventual fiery apocalypse of the world's end will be its confirmation, or baptism by fire. The earth's equivalent of the mormon Sacrament, then, was when it literally drank the blood (in Gethsemane) and ate the flesh (in the tomb) of Jesus. This act cleansed the earth itself of sin.

Ok, so now we finally get to talk about blood atonement in context. According to this whole paradigm, anyone who commits an act of perdition will have their very blood cursed and cut off from the presence of god. When they are resurrected to face final judgment, their sins will remain locked inside their now immortal bodies and prevent them from dwelling in any kingdom of glory (this point is not much elaborated on, and it's unclear whether bodies of sons of perdition have blood or are just metaphysically bound to it somehow).

When Cain slew Abel, Abel's innocent blood soaked the earth, and that blood cried out for justice, but Cain was cursed with perdition, so his blood could never be shed, and it wasn't until Jesus soaked the earth with his blood that Abel's blood's need for justice was fulfilled. The earth, having absorbed divine blood capable of paying the price of justice for innocent blood, can therefore act as an intermediary for this sort of thing.

But doesn't that undermine the whole "infinite atonement" thing? Well, yes, but not anymore than the necessity of any other ordinance within Mormonism does within the same framework. Jesus was baptized, and anyone who wants to access the specific covenants locked behind baptism needs to be baptized. Jesus, while not a murderer, took those sins upon himself and shed his blood, so any murderer who wants to access the redemption must also do so. Shedding your blood upon the ground becomes a sort of conditional ordinance that's only necessary if you've committed the otherwise unforgivable sin of murder.

Now you'll notice that we're only talking about murder here and not apostasy. That's because, crucially, those are the same thing as far as Mormonism is concerned, as you're spiritually killing someone (yourself and potentially your family as well). Brigham Young prescribed "death on the spot" for mormons who engaged in the apostate act of miscegenation, for example.

Now, I want to stress that it's extremely unclear how many people, if any, were actually blood atoned for apostasy, how many people, if any, were executed in ways that did not shed their blood because they were deemed "apostate," and how widespread or accepted any of this doctrine was beyond church leadership. I also want to make it clear that there is no credible evidence that suggests that either the doctrine or practice of blood atonement is taught or practiced by any branches of Mormonism beyond certain fundamentalist sects such as the FLDS under the leadership of Warren Jeffs, or isolated incidents such as the Lafferty Brother murders.

The mainstream LDS church has quietly de-emphasized or de-canonized almost all of these teachings, including many of the foundational elements. You can occasionally find church officials expressing some or even all of these beliefs in unofficial settings, but the most recent examples are the likes of Cleon Skousen, Hugh Nibley, Bruce McConkie, and Joseph Fielding Smith, all of which are decades ago at this point, and virtually all of which are inaccessible via official church records.

So there you go. I feel obligated to note that much of the connective tissue of this post comes from personal experience and decades of reading various official and semi-official writings on the topic and that I don't have a list of sources handy. Go read Under the Banner of Heaven (or watch the Hulu series) if you want a broader, better-sourced look at the history of violence within Mormonism (though note that Krakauer does dabble in conjecture, especially in the Hulu adaptation).

[letterstodixon]

place in me

summary: A path of wishes and several opportunities in which you stopped believing in them, since the world went to shit until now.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader (established relationship)

word count: 8556

era: commonwealth

warnings: towl/dd: tboc spoilers. mentions of blood and killing walkers. angst (kind of?). not proofreading. mentions of reader cutting her hair shorter but it doesn't mention the lenght per se. age gap implied.

divider by @/saradika-graphics

a/n: i'm afraid this is gonna be a long ass author's note. hello again! i've been missing due to my academic schedule and my writers block, this one shot has been sitting on my notes app for a month and half, and i'm still not too happy on how it turned out, however, i wanted to try and post it. i'm sorry if there's any error, spelling mistake or lack of continuation in the story, i'm willing to come back to re-edit this someday and improve it, in the meantime, thank you if you read the note and the one shot. hope you like it! <3

taglist: @vaniniweenie

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

Every birthday, when a shooting star passed by, when you saw a dandelion, when an eyelash fell on your cheek, or on the cheek of someone you loved. You never missed the chance to make a wish.

Well, wishes were no longer something that could be fulfilled. Silently, every time you asked for something, it didn't work out. No matter how hard you wished for it, it just didn't happen.

From the shores of the lake at the quarry, wishing that whatever was happening in the world would be fixed, until the moment the war with the whisperers ended, you didn't stop praying that someone, anyone, would hear your prayer. That they wouldn't stop taking your family away, even though new members kept appearing and making themselves loved, you hated knowing that someone you loved would be a new name on the wall of Alexandria. It could even be you, but luck was on your side. Or not yet.

When you arrived in the Commonwealth, the few members of your family were more than a little scared and suspicious. Still, everyone seemed to fit into this new life that was offered to them... until you had to fight. Once again. To get Negan on your side? Yeah, it was bad. And as things seemed to fall into place once again, you kept losing people. And you lost the one you loved the most in that weak and broken world.

Your lover and best friend.

You can still remember the moment you entered the apartment you shared, not only with each other, but with your nephews and Dog. School had just finished, the work day seemed to have never drained your energy, and you couldn't wait to get home. Hell, maybe you even had the will to bake a pumpkin pie, since autumn was beginning, but that calmness vanished as soon as you saw Daryl's backpack on the couch, along with other belongings. Was he leaving? Was there some kind of run you weren't aware of?

"Babe?" You asked, dropping your bag next to his, while your free hand clung to your necklace. He appeared through the bedroom door, somewhat confused, as he was probably expecting you to arrive later.

"Hey. Yer early.”

"No, I think you're the one who's early." You tried to joke, still playing with the chain on your neck, while a nervous smile appeared on your lips. Daryl seemed to be focused on that movement that you kept making, making it inevitable to meet your gaze. Wrap, wrap, unravel, unravel. "What's going on?"

Your voice brought him out of his trance, making him clear his throat, his gaze going to the floor. He had thought of a thousand ways of how to face that situation, but none of those thousand ways were going to be enough to face reality.

"Yeah, I— uh, I'm leavin'."

"What?"

Daryl shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. "I'm leav—"

"No, I heard you the first time. I mean why, why would you leave?" You asked, feeling your stomach start to churn. After all those years, all those moments, all the time it took for you both to be able to be calm and together, he was leaving? Just like that?

"It ain't about us or anythin’, I'm just... I feel stuck 'ere." He admitted, daring to meet her face and oh boy, he wished he never had. Your nervous eyes met his ocean ones, head tilted slightly, trying to understand him.

"Okay then, we're both leaving. I'm not staying here this time, six years was enough." You answered quickly, passing by him to try to enter the room, ready to pack a bag and leave with him, but his hand caught your wrist.

"I'm doin' it alone. Yer staying here."

"Like hell I'm staying here! What do you mean?!" You asked, raising your voice and causing Daryl to flinch, making your heart clench at the sight. "I didn't mean to raise my voice but I... I don't get it.”

"I need to find Rick, I can't leave Michonne alone with ‘im... I need my time away." He explained as clearly as he could, without stuttering in between. For every word that came out of his mouth, another piece of his heart broke. A humorless laugh left your lips, yanking out of his grasp.

They say the human heart beats between 60 and 100 beats per minute. You weren't sure you were even feeling your heart beating at that moment.

In fact, it was probably so broken that you couldn't feel it in your chest.

"You can leave for Rick but I ain't worth your stay. I get it, Daryl." You said, raising your hands in surrender. "There's nothing I can do about this, about us."

"I told ya, it ain't about you or anything, I just—"

"I understood every fucking time you wanted to leave. I was never against it, I never even approached the places I knew you could be, so you could have your time, but now?" You had to take a moment to breathe, feeling like it wasn't enough, the pressure in your chest too much to pretend it wasn't there. "Now I don't get it, and I probably never will. And yeah, I'm mad as hell because I love you and I don't want you away from me, but since I'm not a good enough reason to stay, then I won't beg.”

Daryl frowned, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nodded at what you said, never taking his eyes off your face. You knew him well enough to sense that he was holding back the urge to cry, and you weren't far from doing so either.

"Yer more than enough. M'sorry, sunshine." He said softly, slowly approaching to you before finally wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. As soon as you saw yourself surrounded by that hug, you couldn't help but release those tears you'd been holding back for a while.

For many years, you woke up knowing you'd see his face next to you, you went to sleep knowing it, and you were certain that the heaviest, most crushing part of life turned out to be a little lighter with his presence.

That day, when Daryl was about to leave, was the first day —of all those yet to come— without that certainty.

It was just you and Carol outside the Commonwealth gates. You carefully placed the ring you shared with him on your chain and placed it around his neck, hiding it under his clothes, as you felt his gaze follow every move you made. Daryl would grab that ring and press it into the palm of his hand in the middle of his journey whenever he needed to feel you closer, when there were no people around and he wanted to connect with home.

With a kiss on each cheek, one on his forehead and one on his lips, you gave him a weak smile, as he placed his hand on the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together, one of your hands holding his free hand, holding tight once again to the man who once was your North.

"Love ya like the ocean." He said in the softest voice you had ever heard from him.

"I love you more." You murmured, walking away so Carol could say goodbye. After exchanging their I love you's, you both took a few steps back, watching as Daryl climbed onto his motorcycle and gave you one last look before starting the engine and accelerating towards his next destination, while you silently wished that the universe would protect the reason why the sun shined.

Months came and went. With each passing season, your life seemed to become duller and more monotonous. Little remained of the life you used to know, and the family you once knew. Perhaps, you were nostalgic too easily

Daryl’s whereabouts remained unknown, as did Rick’s, and God knows where Negan had gotten off to. Every chance you got, you found a blind spot in the Commonwealth you could sneak through, and you spent hours looking for any trace of Daryl, without finding any clue that he was around. The kids and Dog were still in your care, and the families in the community counted on you to educate their children, so you couldn’t allow yourself to disappear for many hours.

But Carol could.

As soon as she had the chance, she dropped everything to go in search of her best friend, promising to bring him back for you, for the kids, and for her, who was starting to feel overwhelmed in that place, the memories weighing more heavily than reality. You knew you couldn't stop her, so once again, you asked the universe to take care of her and allow her to return home, safe and sound.

You still didn't believe in wishes, but you could still try.

When winter break arrived, in the semi-normality that the commonwealth allowed you to have, you set off on a trip to Alexandria with Judith, RJ and Dog, who didn't know how to behave the whole trip, excited about it being his first time traveling by car. Judith looked strange in the back seat, moving her hands inside her backpack, until you heard the sound of a walkie.

Shoto, it's Daito. I found him.

A thousand thoughts went through your head from the moment you recognized Michonne's voice, until you took the children to that field where the helicopter would land. You thought you were living a dream, but it was as real as it could be. Rick's reunion with his daughter, that he could meet RJ, suddenly, made you start crying everything you couldn't cry in Daryl's absence. Ever since Rick had arrived at the quarry, he knew how to be the older brother you never had, and he didn't stop taking care of you as much as he took care of the rest, but maybe he did put a little more effort into you and Carl, who looked for you and Michonne when he was about to commit some mischief.

When the family approached the car again, Michonne was the first to hug you, both stopping to look at each other with admiration and surprise a couple of times, your friend's hands playing with your hair while laughing and exclaiming It's shorter! What have you done with your hair?, unable to believe how short it was compared to how you had it a few years ago. Rick observed the scene with an expression that you couldn't decipher but, as soon as Michonne and the children moved away, he didn't hesitate to hug you with all his strength, swinging from one side to the other while he heard you laugh, a smile appearing on his face as well.

"Where the hell have you been, Grimes?! How dare you leave us dealing with Negan by ourselves?" You joked, moving away but only a little, hugging him from the side. On the other side, Judith came over to hug him too. Rick watched his children with a love you had never witnessed in another person.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I'm not planning on leaving you guys anytime soon." He said, nodding, extending one of his arms for RJ to fist bump. Only then did you notice that it wasn't his arm, but a black prosthesis. At that moment, you realized everything you had to tell each other, and how much they must want to see Alexandria.

"Well, then... The kids are on vacation and we were visiting Alexandria, are you coming with us?" You suggested, noticing the confusion between Michonne and Rick.

"Visiting? Where have you been living, then?" Michonne questioned, narrowing her eyes. Sighing, you gestured towards the car.

"There's a lot we have to tell you both. Okay, get in the car, we have a few miles left.”

And just like that, the Grimes family was making their arrival at the place they all loved the most. Along the way, you were able to tell them (with Judith’s comments and Dog’s interruptions in between) about how they came to the Commonwealth, what life was like there, and who was left behind. Rick had a lot to process about what had happened in these past few years, the most recent losses and also the additions to the family. His blank expression when he heard Negan befriended her —now— oldest daughter, and that he had saved her in the middle of a storm. He was also able to tell you and the kids about his time at the CRM, his reunion with Jadis, and how they managed to escape, although you were sure he had left out certain details so as not to upset his children.

As you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria and everyone got out of the car, the gates to the community opened to reveal Maggie, Aaron, and Lydia, the first two running to hug Rick and Michonne, while Lydia shyly approached you, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's so nice to see you again, Y/N." She said, her head resting on your shoulder as you hugged her, smiling.

"Nice to see you too, kid. You're taller than the last time I saw you, slow down." You replied, ruffling her hair, turning to see Rick, who was hugging Maggie, Aaron waving at RJ and Jude while Michonne looked at the scene with the same admiration and tenderness as you did.

"I thought you promised to be here with Daryl next time you visit." Lydia said in a mocking tone, pretending to be upset, and while the comment brought a smile to everyone around you, you couldn't help but look at Jude and RJ, both with a sad expression, looking at you too. You didn't know what expression you had put on, but the weight on your chest had appeared again and you could see Lydia's face increasingly scared of the change of environment she had generated. "I—"

"What's going on?" Maggie asked, looking at you with clear concern on her face. Wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you noticed tears that you didn't know you were holding back falling, you shook your head.

"Daryl, uh... He left." You said as you nodded, looking down.

"What? When did he leave?" Rick's voice made you look up, noticing his confusion at the news that his best friend, his brother, wasn't there with them.

"He wanted to keep searching for you, said that couldn't let Michonne do it for herself. I haven't known anything about him since a few months ago.”

You heard Lydia gasp beside you, taking a few steps back to look at you in disbelief. The expression on everyone's faces ranged from confusion to sadness. No one imagined that Daryl could spend a day away from you, much less by his own will.

"And now what? We have to tell him Rick is here! He'll come back." Aaron reasoned, making the rest nod, agreeing with him. "We can try and track him—"

"I tried." You interrupted him, sighing heavily, thinking of all the times you ran away with the simple intention of finding something that would lead you to Daryl. "And Carol went looking for him, but some time passed too and I don't know where she could be anymore."

"Carol left too? You better be joking." Michonne exclaimed, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Seeing that you were unable to speak, you responded with a shrug of your shoulders, tears having taken over a large part of your face and throat, and she came over to hug you, Lydia taking a step back to let your friend comfort you. A few seconds later, you felt another body hug you from the opposite side, Maggie. Then, the children, Aaron, Rick and Lydia again.

"We're a family. We'll always find the way back home to us." Rick exclaimed, leaning his chin against his wife's head. Closing your eyes, you took that phrase from Rick as your next wish.

May we always find the way back home. May he find the way to us.

And the holiday seasons passed, and the seasons continued, but no one came home again. With each passing day, you lost your hope of ever seeing your lover and his best friend again, who happened to be one of your best friends too. Every time you looked in the mirror, your face looked familiar, but you could no longer see yourself. With the arrival of Rick and Michonne, Jude and RJ were no longer under your care, so —given their parents' decision to stay in the Commonwealth to continue their schooling— the four of them had moved into an apartment, not far from yours, leaving you with Dog and a deafening silence every time you entered the house. Curiously, despite having part of your family back, you found peace when you were away from everyone, and that's why you took advantage of continuing to escape from the community, without anyone knowing, sometimes managing to sneak past Dog on some occasion, who continued to seem to be looking for traces of his partner, of the one who brought him home.

And that's where you thought... If Michonne searched for Rick for so many years, if Rick continued to search for his way home despite everything, if Daryl didn't give up looking for Sophia, for Merle, for Rick, why were you behaving like that? Why were you moving further away from the idea of a reunion when there were people who fought and gave their lives to return to the people they loved? At that moment, in the middle of the class you were giving, is when you made the decision to go back on the road and look for Carol and Daryl, even if it meant giving up your life for it. Three knocks on the door made you turn to look, your students distracted enough not to notice the presence of Ezekiel, who was motioning for you to come closer. You looked at your group one last time before going out into the hallway, noticing that, next to him, there was a tall, skinny boy, with long, somewhat wavy hair. His eyes conveyed tranquility but at the same time, they seemed tired. Almost sad.

"Miss Y/N, this is Laurent, your new student. He flew all the way from France to be here." Ezekiel said with his signature smile. A surprised expression appeared on your face, seeing the young man in front of you smile shyly.

"Bienvenu." You exclaimed, extending your hand in Laurent's direction, who took it without hesitation.

"Merci. Parles-vouz français?" He asked, causing you to grimace, shaking your head from side to side.

"Just a little bit. Do you manage well with English?”

"Yes. I had a few good teachers." He said, shrugging. There was a certain calmness in his tone that you still couldn't quite figure out.

"Well, I'll let you both get back to class, but I need your presence at my office when your shift finishes, mrs. Y/N." Ezequiel instructed, making you nod as you waved at him, watching him walk away. When you looked back at Laurent, he was staring at you like someone who saw a ghost.

"Y/N? Do you know Daryl Dixon?" He asked, and the air caught in your throat. Your feet were no longer on the ground, everything around you seemed to stop. How did this kid, who just arrived from France, know Daryl?

"I, uh... Yeah, yeah, of course I know him. How do you know him? Have you seen him?" You asked back, desperation tangling in your words, and the boy seemed to notice as he nodded.

"We met in France, he helped me get to The Nest, but it didn't turn out so well..."

"The Nest? Sorry, Laurent, I really want to get to know you but," you said as you crouched down in front of him, gently taking him by the shoulders, "I need you to tell me if Daryl is alive, do you know that?”

"I haven't seen him the last time. Ash told us the plane wouldn't be able to fly with the four of us, so Daryl told me to fly with Carol, but—"

"Carol, you said Carol. A woman with short, gray hair?" At your question, Laurent nodded, making you let out a sigh of relief, but your heart was beating fast in your chest. "Okay, I'm sorry, keep going."

Laurent took a breath before continuing to speak. "Well, the four of us couldn't make it to the plane, so Daryl let the three of us fly, but Carol went out of the plane because we were being attacked by a group."

"Attacked?! But haven't you seen Daryl or Carol again?"

"No, mrs. Y/N, I was on the plane." The young man in front of you answered with some regret in his voice. You felt like you weren't making the best impression, but you couldn't help it. These were the two people you cared about most in the world, and you still didn't quite understand how the hell they had both managed to get to France. Sighing regretfully, you nodded a couple of times, disappointed at the idea of giving up, once again, the last clue you might have to Daryl's whereabouts. Standing up a little, but without moving your hands from Laurent's shoulders, you gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you for the information and I'm sorry if my first impression was not the best, Laurent. I'll tell you what? We're gonna introduce you to the class, and then we'll go for a slice of apple pie so you can tell me more about yourself, what do you think?" You asked, forcing yourself to smile at the boy in front of you. Laurent nodded, entering the classroom he would share with his classmates. Any fear you might have felt about the boy not being included was dispelled when you saw that the other kids were excited to meet someone who was not only not from the Commonwealth, but also came from the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

The day passed, and as you walked to the coffee shop alongside Laurent, you listened to his stories and his journey to get there. How he met Daryl, what he taught him, and the things he sacrificed to take care of him. He told you about his aunt Isabelle, and how she loved Daryl, assuring you that he loved her too, and how she braided her hair into a braid every morning, and the life she left behind to give one to him. And in that moment, with your heart a little crushed and tears threatening to fall, you noticed that the trees began to bloom, the sun was shining a little brighter, and maybe —just maybe— someone had heard your wishes. Laurent was the sign that everything was okay.

So you decided that from now on, everything would be okay.

For Laurent, for Daryl. For yourself.

Ezekiel had asked you to take Laurent under your care, trusting you because of the dedication everyone saw and had with Judith and RJ, so it became your personal project. If Daryl had decided that the boy was going to have a better life and sent him across the ocean, it was your duty to continue the work Daryl started. Every week, at least once or twice, you and Dog would go outside the walls when school was over, to practice with some weapons, and even travel beyond the Commonwealth. Judith, with whom he had become friends and debate partners, offered to give him lessons with the katana, although Laurent ended up preferring a bow and arrow, being his favorite weapon. You would never forget the hug he gave you when you gave him his first bow of his own, a smile from ear to ear as he said that now he could be like Daryl.

Rick and Michonne didn't waste any time and wanted to be a part of it too, when they were free from their respective jobs. RJ took the opportunity to sneak around older kids and bother them... sometimes, or almost always. With more people to look after the kids, all of you allowed yourselves to go a few miles further from the community, and although everyone had their guard up and didn't seem to be in any danger, beyond running into some lost walker, being a living person in an apocalyptic world never allowed you to be completely at peace.

While you were on the side of the road checking the SUV that seemed to have not survived the summer heat, Michonne had her eyes on the surroundings, while you and Rick tried to get the car to start so you could escape the hellish heat that was hitting the afternoon. Sitting in the driver's seat, with one leg out of the car, you looked out the window, watching the boys playing some game they had invented on the spot and laughing, making you smile, until your smile turned into a panicked expression.

“RJ, watch out!” You shouted, getting out of the car as you saw a walker approaching the youngest, who was a bit further away from the group and unarmed. He turned to look at you, scared, reacting in time and moving away from the dead one, Michonne being quick to cut his head off in a clean cut, rushing to hug her son. Rick looked up in alarm, calling them to come back closer to the car.

“Don't get too far, that was a lonely walker but there could be more, aight?” He questioned, approaching to adjust his son's hat, giving him a smile. The little boy nodded, knowing full well what his dad was referring to.

“Dad?” Judith said, reaching for the katana on her back as she looked towards the forest in front of you. As she looked towards the trees, a feeling of fear deepened in your stomach. It wasn't just a couple, but a big pack of walkers heading towards you, slowly but surely. There was no shelter, and the car still wasn't working. Circling the car as you pulled the knives out of their sheaths, you approached the group.

“Get in the car. Now.” You ordered. You weren't going to let your family expose themselves after everything they went through.

“Don't be stupid, you can't take them out by yourself. We need each other.” Michonne exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed her katana. “Kids, get in the car.”

RJ nodded, running towards the car to get inside, but Judith had a hard expression, while Laurent didn’t know what to do.

“Laurent, get in the car with RJ and Judith. It's gonna be okay.” You instructed, and although the boy seemed hesitant, he ended up obeying, but not before looking once more at everyone, as if wanting to remember their faces in case something happened.

“Judith, I'm not gonna say it again. Get in the car with your brother.” Rick ordered through clenched teeth, noticing how the horde seemed to be getting closer. Jude tightened his hands around the handle of her katana, looking at her dad in the eyes.

“I can fight. I'll stay here.”

“You can fight but you shouldn't, get in the car.” His dad repeated, punctuating the last sentence. As you looked between them and the horde, you stepped forward, raising your knives, Michonne at your side in formation, watching the dead advance towards you. In the air, the heat seemed to be more unbearable than it really was, but the worst thing was the tension, the feeling that every minute that passed was an opportunity for the horde to reach you.

You were the first to act. Moving forward with confident steps towards the first walker that approached with one of your knives raised, you stabbed the blade between its eyes with precision, making it fall to the ground, inert. But, without time to stop, two other walkers lunged at you, making you drop one of the knives while its rotten hands searched for meat. You dodged the first one, but the second one reached you, its firm hand on your arm. You screamed at the force you were exerting to stop it from getting any closer than necessary, but quickly, Rick appeared at your side and, with a precise blow, cut off the head of the dead one that had attacked you.

“I got you.” He said, swinging his axe, while turning to look at Judith with a hard expression. “I won't say it again.”

And with that, the girl —more frightened from the look on her dad’s face than from the horde— ran towards the car, getting in the backseat along with the two boys.

Meanwhile, Michonne was at his side, swinging her katana back and forth with force. Each blow she delivered cut flesh and bone, but for every walker that fell, others seemed to rise from the shadows of the scorching heat. The road seemed to have filled with the dead, their number increasing with each passing minute.

The hot air mixed with the nauseating smell of decomposing bodies, and the sound of screams and blows became a macabre symphony. The ground burned beneath your feet, but neither Rick, nor Michonne, nor you stopped. You knew that survival depended on being precise and working together.

As you hit another walker in the head, the back of the knife sinking into its skull with a thud. Sweat blinded your eyes, but it didn’t matter. Danger was everywhere, and you weren’t going to let anything happen to your family, even if your life was at stake. As you got cornered from the wave of walkers that didn’t seem to end, you whistled to get your friends’ attention.

“Let’s get in the car and wait it out! We won't make it!” You shouted, pushing a walker to the ground as Michonne moved to stomp on its skull. Nodding slightly, they both backed away to the car, watching as Rick continued to take out walkers with his axe and the knife in his other arm, not stopping for a moment.

“Rick, let’s go!” Michonne shouted, making him turn to look at her. His face was splattered with blood, as were his hands, and you didn’t dare look at yours because you knew you were just as bad or worse than him. As the three of you ran towards the car, you got rid of the few walkers that posed a threat near the vehicle, both to get in and to the children inside. Upon reaching it, you waited for them to get in first so you could pretend to get in and close the door behind them, clinging to the car’s railing and quickly climbing onto the roof, listening to the muffled screams of your family from inside the car, which was inevitably being surrounded by the dead ones. Taking the gun that you had in the waistband of your pants and had decided not to use because of the noise and the small number of bullets, you began to shoot as much as you could at the walkers that got too close. The air was thick, all your movements seemed to be automatic, you didn't understand how this was your daily life before being in the tranquility of the Commonwealth. In the midst of getting rid of the dead, you couldn't help but remember Carol and Daryl as soon as they had arrived in Alexandria, saying that the walls could make the group weaker. That's how you felt at that moment: weak.

Weak when you pulled the trigger and you had no more bullets, and there was no way to get into the car without getting out and exposing yourself. Weak when you got on your knees, with one hand held on the railing, as you continued to sink the edge of your knife into the skulls of the walkers, and your lungs seemed to burn from the effort you were making, not knowing if what you felt on your face was sweat or blood, or both. Weak when you heard gunshots around you, and you couldn't do anything else but try to cover yourself with your arms, almost lying on the roof of the car, but being able to see out of the corner of your eye that the walkers were falling in numbers. The sound of bullets was deafening, but so was the pounding of your heart in your ears. Eventually, when the blast of lead stopped, you dared to look down, meeting a pair of blue eyes you knew well.

“Carol?”

“Hi, pookie.” She exclaimed with a smile as her expression trembled. Leaving the knife and gun on the roof of the car, you jumped out of it as she simultaneously threw her gun to the ground, her arms wrapping around your body tightly. As you rubbed her back, you could hear a sob from her, as well as the car doors opening, exclamations of excitement and surprise from the Grimes family. You couldn’t believe she was finally here, back.

“Aunt Carol!” The Grimes brothers shouted, approaching to hug their aunt. Slowly moving away, you wiped your cheeks, which you didn’t know if they were wet with sweat or tears. Turning to look at Rick and Michonne, both of them watched the scene with emotion, but without having said it out loud, you were all thinking of the same person, not noticing the figure that was a few meters away from you, lowering his crossbow until it rested on the ground.

It was hard for Daryl to believe the scene before him. His luck had been so twisted over the years that it wouldn't surprise him to be close to death once again and that what he was experiencing was a hallucination. He looked for some mistake in the moment, something that would indicate to him that Laurent hadn't arrived safe and sound, that his nephew and niece weren't hugging his best friend, that his brother and his partner were alive and together. But no, they all existed and were there, at that moment. Even the love of his life.

The love of his life was there, under the brightest sun he had felt on his skin since he had gone away, and suddenly, everything was starting to make sense. The weight of his actions and the regret of even his own thoughts made his head spin, but even as he repeated over and over the mistakes he had made since he left you, he dared to take a step forward, entering his family's field of vision. The first to turn around was Rick, who held his gaze with an emotion that could have knocked him to the ground. Daryl pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding in greeting, the lump in his throat not letting him formulate a word. Rick, being more demonstrative than he could be, advanced with long strides until he reached his best friend, hugging him with the same strength they hugged when Daryl was freed from Negan's captivity, when the imminent threat of war was upon them but they still had time to rejoice in knowing they were alive. He lowered his head, resting his forehead on the shoulder of his brother, of the man who forced himself to think he was dead so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain and keep searching, more than once. Moving away so they could see each other, Rick laughed through his tears when he noticed that his best friend was crying too.

“Feels good to have you back, brother.” He said, patting the archer on the shoulder, to which he nodded.

“Feels good t'be back.” He replied, directing his gaze at Michonne, at Carol, his traveling companion, at the children, and finally at you, who seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing if he was a ghost or if that was really happening. “Not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.”

“You better not leave again, Dixon. I'll kick your ass, I'm not even kidding.” Michonne said, approaching with a smile so she could hug him, to which he happily responded. It was no news that physical contact was not something he completely liked, but he wouldn't avoid it. He wasn't going to avoid it this time. His hands were shaking from the exciting moment he was experiencing, and beyond the hug with Michonne, he could still watch you, unable to decipher your expression easily. Before he could react, as his friend walked away, the three kids rushed towards him, while he tried to hug them back. Carol was hugged on either side by Rick and Michonne, while you stood with your arms crossed watching the whole sequence.

“Knew you’d come back.” Laurent said, giving a smile to Daryl, who smiled back, nodding.

“I promised I would. I was still gonna find ya, whether you like it or not.” Daryl replied, playfully ruffling his hair. Judith, silently and being more perceptive than the other two children, carefully stepped away from her uncle, approaching you to take your hand. Her fingers intertwined with yours, causing you to look down at her. You responded with a smile and a squeeze of her hand before looking forward again, noticing Daryl approaching you. Before he could get much closer, you took a few steps forward, shortening the distance, bringing one of your hands, trembling, to his cheek. With your thumb you traced that scar that seemed to be more alive than ever, but that somehow, highlighted the color of his eyes. His lip busted, a black eye, another scar on his other cheek, multiple scars on his forehead and still, you saw the most beautiful man that ever existed. It was like the sunlight had transformed into a human form, and he was standing right in front of you, tilting his head against your palm. His hand went to your wrist, caressing it as he watched you, causing you to pull away. Daryl felt your touch on his skin like a burning heat, even though you were no longer touching him.

“I’m glad you're back, Daryl.” You said, your voice mentioning his name was music to his ears. He still couldn't figure you out and it was frustrating him, but he would let what had to happen happen. After all, he had used up every chance you had given him, and he knew he was wrong from the moment he got on his motorcycle to leave everything behind.

“I'm happy yer still here.” He dared to say, and it took everything in him to be able to find his voice in the midst of the anguish. With a half smile, you nodded, turning to look at your friends, your family, as you took a breath before speaking.

“So… are we ready to go home?”

The drive to the Commonwealth seemed to be quicker than it usually was. The car, as if by magic, had started up without any problems. The kids were more than happy to have their uncle back, Rick and Michonne were talking to each other, and you looked back through the windshield of the car at Daryl and Carol, who were coming behind you on Daryl's motorcycle that they had magically been able to find. You didn't want to know how that had happened.

Arriving home? That was another major event. Daryl hadn't been forgotten in the Commonwealth, and for every step he took, there was a different person greeting or welcoming him. Aaron, Maggie, and Lydia were happy to hear from him and Carol, asking them to go to Alexandria as soon as they could. As quickly as he could, Laurent went to get Dog, who kept wagging his tail and crying between barks as Daryl petted him. It took a while for the furry one to get away from his owner, but Laurent took him for a walk so Daryl could get on with what he had to do. Everything seemed to be falling back into place, but Daryl felt that the only thing he was missing was having a well-deserved talk with you, who disappeared as soon as they set foot inside the community. When the people stopped pestering him, he allowed himself a visit to the doctor (forced by Rick) who assured him that he was in perfect condition, beyond a few cuts or bruises here and there, which were healed and bandaged for his safety.

“Now you can go rest, you deserve it.” Rick said, hugging him by the shoulders as they walked out of the hospital. Daryl shook his head, looking ahead, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Nah. I gotta talk to ‘er.” He muttered, squinting as he felt the sun’s rays hit his face, now turning to look at his friend.

Rick nodded a couple of times. “Yeah, I know.” He said in a much quieter voice than before, searching for the right words before speaking again. “You and Y/N are the last people I saw at the bridge, you know? And that image was my best company for a while, as well as Michonne and Jude. I knew she had your back, and you had hers too. I found peace knowing that.”

Daryl, for the first time in a long time, let out a sob that he couldn’t control, quickly wiping away any trace of tears with the back of his hand. The weight of the people he’d lost, the times he’d walked away from everyone, the image of the bridge exploding, the search for Rick, the trip to France, continuing to run from the consequences of his bad decisions, having to let Isabelle go and Laurent face a new world alone. He felt tremendously responsible, but he felt even worse for leaving despite your asking him not to.

“I fail- I failed ‘er. She ain't supposed t’deal with all of this.” He said, trying to control the tremble in his voice, while Rick's hand pressed on his shoulder, letting him know he was there for him.

“None of us is supposed to deal with the bullshit we dealt, man. She stayed because she knew you were worth it,” taking a breath, he searched for his friend's gaze, failing in the attempt, “and I still don't know if I deserved Michonne’s loyalty, but she gave it to me, and now? I'm not gonna let that go, and you shouldn't either.”

With a pat on the chest, and noticing that Daryl wasn't going to respond with more than a nod, he walked him to the door of your apartment, before waving and leaving. With his heart pounding, he knocked on the door a few times, knowing that he could have locked himself in another time because that home belonged to him too. Noticing that there was no answer or noise from the other side, he leaned against the door, almost falling backwards when it suddenly opened. Looking around, he noticed that no one had opened it, but that the handle seemed to be faulty. If you weren't home, why was the door open?

Entering quietly, he closed the door behind him, observing his surroundings. Despite the time that had passed, nothing was too different. Order was always something that characterized you, and this was no exception: everything was where it should be. Approaching the fridge, he noticed some drawings made by Judith and RJ, even one made by Laurent, stealing a smile from him. A little higher up, there was a polaroid that he could recognize well. The group had recently arrived in Alexandria, and you were both on the stairs of the house you all shared the first night. He was sitting on the steps, one of his arrows in his hands while his crossbow was next to him, you sitting behind him, a few steps up, your arms around his shoulders with a huge smile on your lips, while he was focused on whatever he was doing with the arrow. He didn't remember who had taken the photo, but he couldn't believe that you still kept it, and that it was preserved without problems despite all those years that had passed.

“We were young, huh?” Daryl turned quickly, finding you behind him, at a safe distance, a cigarette between your fingers as you watched him with your head slightly tilted.

“Yer still younger than me, but uh... I'm sorry, I ain't—”

“I knew you were coming sooner or later, Daryl, it's okay. The door’s broken anyways.” You assured him, taking another drag of the cigar, letting out the smoke a few seconds later and using your opposite hand to break up that cloud. “You want one?” You asked, raising your hand to refer to the cigarette, him shaking his head without hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder when you had started smoking, given that the smell had made you wrinkle your nose in disgust a while back.

“Nah, thanks. I wanted to talk to ya.” He said, shifting his weight on his legs while staring at you, trying to notice little things that changed in your face while he was away, but he couldn't find any. The only thing that was different was your hair, and you still looked as beautiful as ever to him. “I, uh… I wanted to say sorry, and thank you for taking care of Laurent. He's been through a lot and he's just a kid, so yeah, thanks.”

As he finished speaking, he couldn't help but feel like an idiot at the words he chose. He wanted to run away and bury his head in the ground, so that no one would perceive him as a human being ever again.

“I did it from the heart and out of love, so you don't owe me anything. Not a thank you, not a sorry. I did it because I felt and knew it was the right thing to do, and because I knew you were sending him.” You started to speak, approaching the kitchen table, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray that was on it, right where Daryl stood on the other end. “You know? The day Laurent showed up, I had decided to go after you and Carol, but then he came along and I knew it was the sign that everything was okay. And maybe I held on to that illusion for too long, without any certainty since the day you left, but it was the first time in months that I felt and knew that everything would be okay.”

Daryl nodded, understanding what you meant, and knowing that there would be no way to apologize without you wanting to ignore it. “I wish I could’ve asked ya if ya wanted to take care of ‘im, and I'm sorry for that.”

“Laurent has been a great companion the last few months. He told me great things about you, about Isabelle.” You said as you sat down, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same, but he remained stuck in his place. His body seemed to be made of the heaviest material in the world, because he couldn't manage to move after what he had heard.

“Listen, I—”

“You don't have to expl—”

“I have to! I need to explain.” He interrupted you, exasperated. “When I left, it was never because of ya. Never. I thought I’d had the chance to make things right while I was away, but I didn't, I fucked it up like I always do. I couldn't protect the people I was ‘posed to protect. I promised Isabelle and I promised Laurent a new life here, a life where they could be free.”

Gripping the back of the chair, he leaned slightly, not daring to look you in the eye. “And I failed again, and the worst part is I realized that the only thing that kept me going was this.” Carefully, he reached under his shirt, taking that chain you had given him with your ring, making you gasp in surprise. You thought he might have lost it in all that time, but it turns out he never stopped having it around his neck. “T’was never Laurent or Isabelle or anything, it was you. I was worried outta my mind thinking how you’d be, if you were even alive. And fer every time I thought ‘bout giving up, you were the person I thought. Comin’ back home to ya.”

You didn’t know when, or how, but your cheeks seemed to be soaked in tears, trying to keep quiet as you listened to the man you loved with the strength of a thousand suns. Wiping your cheeks with the palm of your hand, you watched him walk around the table, stopping right in front of you, his hands cupping your face as gently as possible, feeling the leather of his gloves on your skin, while his thumbs caressed your cheekbones.

“I don't… I don't even know what to say.” You murmured, looking up to look at him, soaking in every little detail of his face once again. “I waited for those words for so long. I cursed your name too many times, only to beat myself up to think about you in that way. I'm sorry for not being the partner you needed, Daryl, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.”

The archer shook his head, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I told ya. You're more than enough, and I'm sorry for makin' you doubt it, it's me that's gotta say sorry.”

“I guess we're both sorry, but I'm scared, Dar.” You admitted, making him move away so he could see you. With a sound of effort, he squatted down in front of you, his hands on your knees.

“What are you scared about, sunshine?” He asked, taking your hands in his, caressing the back of them. Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head, not knowing whether to say the next words or not.

“I'm scared of you leaving again. I can't stand another goodbye, not from you, not again.” Sighing in a ragged manner, you met his blue eyes watching you with understanding, without having to explain much more to understand. “And I also don't wanna be selfish, because it'll be cruel if I make you do something you don't want, but I can't help how I feel.”

“Listen to me, woman.” He ordered as soon as you finished speaking, perhaps seeming too eager to clarify what he felt. “I ain't leavin’, not again, not without you at least. Can we start over?”

“We'll stay, and we'll start over.” You said, nodding your head. Carefully, Daryl brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His forehead met yours, and for the first time in a long time, you smiled genuinely.

It had been a long time since you stopped believing in wishes.

But maybe this time, just this time, you would give them another chance.

[kkpaaw]

The parallels between Jay's Arc rn and Nya's earlier In the series is truly something to behold

It would be so interesting if the writers had Nya and the Ninja unintentionally do to Jay what was done to her

What I mean is: Nya's Arc(I'm grossly oversimplifying here btw) In the beginning of the series was about her paving her own path and trying to deal with having little choice In the direction her destiny went. she had to give up her role as the samurai, something she chose to be on her own, to become the water ninja, something that was chosen for her. Then she had to deal with all that was season 6 having her choices essentially snatched from her

She wanted to be the one to choose how her life went. She was tired of others telling her how her life was going to go and not consult her In the slightest

That really parallels Jay's Arc in DR. As I've said before he's had very little choice in his life post merge. Under the control of the administration, while yes he did have some freedom to play video games, we saw just how strict and by the book that place is so we can presume that even with that freedom he still had tight rules he had to obey

Then he left for what he presumed to be freedom under Ras' command. But we all know that isn't true freedom. Jay was lied to, and manipulated to follow Ras' commands. Very strict commands cuz we know who Ras is. And then when he was no longer useful he was promptly tossed out

He finally thought he found some purpose only for that purpose to be snatched away, leaving him with nothing.

Now he's all on his own finally free from anyone's control and I imagine he's not very eager to listen to anyone anytime soon.

Hence why he's now gone Rogue.

Jay and Nya's Arcs are so similar to me message wise that I cannot see it as pure coincidence and I hope that it's used in an effective way

I wanna see Nya unintentionally being a hypocrite. I wanna see her so desperate to get Jay back that she doesn't even try to acknowledge who he is as of NOW In the matter. All she sees is her yin, her love who's lost and alone and needs help and she feels that being with them is the best choice so she makes that decision for him

And of course being with them is better than him being on his own. Thats his family! I know this, you know this but JAY doesn't know this nor does he care right now. And that's the point of view we have to consider cuz through it all Jay's the victim here. He's the one who forgotten everything and is trying to discover his place In the world after being controlled twice now.

All he sees is some random lady that he kinda hates and her friends insisting over and over that he come with them and to go with them. That's where his home is, screw anything else. All he sees is the same shit being spouted to him that Ras prolly did and i imagine it would be infuriating

Tbh They kind of have already started going down that route with having Nya insist that Jay belongs with them. While that is true as I said she doesn't really stop to consider Jay's feelings on the matter even if u can't really blame her

In all likely the Jay she knew would absolutely approve of what she's doing, cuz he would do the same, but that Jay isn't here rn and she's not really considering that. None of the ninja are considering that

They plan on chasing Jay down to get him to come home with them, not really considering(or ignoring) the fact that Jay wants nothing to do with them

They r ignoring his feelings for the sake of trying to get back the Jay THEY know with little consideration with what the Jay of NOW wants

They don't consider the very real potential reality that Jay may never get his memories back, that he may never be the same again cuz they don't want to consider that potential reality

Cuz how would they handle Jay then? Would they accept him as who he is? Or will they continue to search for the Jay they lost, not really caring to know the Jay that is here?

I wanna see that conflict happen, I wanan see Nya being that hypocrite. (albeit unintentionally and trying to help of course) i wanna see her be that pushy and disregarding Jay's feelings cuz she thinks that she knows better. And I want the reality that she hasn't really cared about the Jay of the current to smack her In the face, to smack them all In the face and face that reality perhaps from a new ally of Jay's(me including my huge copium) who doesn't care about his past and just sees him for who he is now

I want Nya to realize how she had been treating Jay this whole time and realize that she messed up. That in her desperation to get her love back, that she had been ignoring Jay's feelings, ignoring his words and trying to decide his life for him, without considering HIM at all, the same thing that had been done to her all those years ago

I'm rambling just to ramble cuz why is this post so long omfg

[seirei-bh]

I need to talk about Sylphrena and Renarin as individuals and their evolution in Wind and Truth

Syl and Renarin are among my favorite Stormlight characters since the first book, but in WaT posts almost every mention I've seen of them has been in regards to ships, so I'm going to put that topic aside because I want to highlight here how much I've loved them in this book as well for their evolution and roles.

Warning! FULL SPOILERS Wind and Truth below!

Syl is -too often- a character VERY underrated both in the books and in the fandom, not being appreciated enough except just as a "cute pixie" or "Kaladin's spren", something that makes me sad since I think she doesn't get the recognition she deserves, but in WaT she really stands out as an individual woman. And I love that so much! We see her becoming more self-aware, wanting to not only live for Kaladin but live for herself, she becomes a scribe and learns to write by her own efforts, because it's something she really likes, she finds a hobby and a dream. She also actively helps Szeth in one of his tests and she is the one who discovers the hidden trap, where we get a chapter from her pov. This book shows us a Syl who is smart, funny, witty, strong-willed, and also shows us very healthy and positive interactions of Syl with Kaladin and other individuals like Adolin and Shallan at the beginning, and then with Nightblood, Szeth, Nale. And in the end… she becomes the Queen of the Sprens! why is NOBODY talking about this??! And she also gets a physical body properly (I was afraid she would do it suffering from an experiment by Ishar, but no, it was thanks to the 5th ideal), so she can live in the physical world as she wished. Syl matures, grows, figures out who she wants to be and helps people who need it, while also learning to be an individual with her own personality and dreams. It's true that the character developments in the Shinovar storyline that stand out are those of Kaladin and Szeth, but we can't forget that Syl has also had her own: we see Syl as a member of Bridge 4, as a scribe, as a co-therapist, as a warrior (in spirit), and as a queen. And I'm very happy for her.

I hope that after WaT more people start to value Syl, and that those who hate a certain ship and have feared/hated Syl -without her deserving it- for that possibility in past or future, can value how beautiful and healthy the dynamic and bond between Kaladin and Syl is regardless of that, and how amazing is Syl as individual character, since Syl's scenes in this book are beautiful and heartwarmings. And I can't wait to see her in future books, to know what her role as queen of the spren will be like and how she will also help the heralds alongside Kaladin. After seeing how Kaladin and Syl summoned the Honor-spear together in the Oath, I now wonder if it will be possible for both of them to be able to summon a spear individually, so could it be possible that we see them fight together side by side in battlefield?? That would be amazing.

Now Renarin, he was always a character that caught my attention, I found him mysterious and interesting, and I've been very happy seeing how in each book and especially in WaT, he has become a much more self-confident person, someone braver, stronger, smarter, and who has managed to find his place in the world, both within Bridge 4, and in his family and also, little by little, about what he wants in the future: a world of peace where singers/listeners and humans can live together in peace and understand each other. And also that he wants to be free to love whoever he wants, and to be radiant, erudite, and he has the courage to free Ba ​​Ado Misharan and to decline to be king at the end and instead opt for an egalitarian government and shared government (it seems that it will be a mix between a republic and a democracy, perhaps). His relationship with Rlain is beautiful (but I'll talk more about them in another post <3), and that bond between them has helped them grow too, I also really liked how his friendship with some members of Bridge 4 develops here, especially Drehy, and with Shallan as a family, who supports him in his decisions. I'm looking forward to seeing the future Renarin, wiser, more self-confident, as a ruler and how he will try to form a coexistence between singers and humans, and of course to see him married to Rlain! I want to see what will happen with Ba Ado Mishram and I want to see that Renarin who faces his visions with courage and reason, as he has done in this book.

In conclusion: I LOVE MY BABIES SYL AND RENARIN AND I'M VERY PROUD OF THEM!

[trailblazing-through]

“Hey there, Central City! Or, y’know, whoever’s reading this. Name’s Trailblazer. You’ve probably never heard of me—and that’s fine, I prefer it that way. I'm a speedster i guess? But I’m not here to save the world or anything (seriously, the Justice League and other heroes has that covered). I’ll help out if I feel like it… or if I feel bad enough to guilt-trip myself into it.”

hit me up with whatever—questions, comments, bad jokes. I’m bored, so go wild. :D

[OOC + Mun speaking!] Hey! This is a roleplay blog for my DC OC. It's kinda my first time running a rp blog, so I’m still figuring things out. And If I did something wrong or upset you, please let me know kindly. <3

“Anyway, here’s some info about me. Keep it to yourself, yeah? No snitching.”

Base credit :D

Name: Cassian Grant

Alias: Trailblazer

Ethnicity: Half-Indonesian (Mother's side), and whatever his dad is

Age: 17

D.O.B: April 12

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 5'9"

Families: A dad who’s more into science than parenting; mom’s... gone.

Resident: Central City, living alone

Occupation: Part-time odd jobs worker (when bored), professional speedster-by-accident

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

MBTI: ENTP

Voice claim: Keith Akira Kogane from Voltron

Likes:

-Sketchy street food that’s probably bad for him and junk foods

-Spicy noodles (the hotter, the better)

-Free stuff (because, duh)

-Music loud enough to drown out the voices

Dislike:

-Being told what to do

-The smell of hospitals or labs (for obvious reasons)

-Questions that start with “why didn’t you…” (I don’t know, I just didn’t)

-Slow walkers

-Loud squeaking sounds

-Alarms (all kinds: alarm clocks, school bells, fire alarms, car alarms—they all suck)

Habits:

-Talking way too fast when he’s nervous (to the point no one understands him)

-Zoning out mid-conversation

-Repainting his nails every weekend

-Taps his fingers in rapid rhythms when bored

Abilities: Speedster things, obviously—running fast, healing fast, screwing up fast. (Occasionally) limited time manipulation and limited control over kinetic energy.

Background: Took a dumb dare to explore a supposedly haunted house, got caught in an explosion from a mad (ex-STAR labs) scientist’s botched experiment (involving something about 'Speed Force', idk) and trapped in a time loop, aged about a thousand mental years in a split second. Now, he’s got powers he didn’t ask for, a lifetime’s worth of trauma, and a sense of time that’s just a little broken.

Notes:

-The orange streaks in his hair weren’t his choice (suddenly appears post-Speed Force accident), but they’ve grown on him.

-He’s oddly great at karaoke, despite saying he’s "terrible at singing."

-Often struggles with maintaining focus due to his hyper-active nature.

-His costume is “Permanently borrowed” from an oblivious superhero; modified and recolored.

“Alright, that’s all for now. Catch you later—Trailblazer out.”

[rubylovessharks]

Hii!! I saw your post asking for ideas of what to write for Idia’s birthday and I just had to say something! (Feel free to ignore this ofc)

The whole crush trope is one of my obsessions along with Idia so I would love to see how you write Idia realizing that he has a crush on reader who is yuu. Like reader has also their otaku side (way more chill that Idia ofc) and they are patient with him so they got to form a pretty frienship with him and also helped him a lot after his overblot

You can omit this part if you want but im thinking of a really kind and sweet reader who besides Idia has befriended most of the twst cast, but they can act pretty shy if the situation is too overwhelming(?

Idk if that makes sense and sorry for the request and thank you for your time :)

of course i'll take on your request! i really like it too :3 so i'll try my best to write it, and write it well!!

Idia Shroud x Yuu(who is the reader)

no warnings! it's all gonna be fluff :333 but like it has hints of angst but ya know- that's idia for ya :/

It's been quite a long time since you and Idia have become friends, you still remember how you first got to know each other. Idia's brother, Ortho, has found out about your shared interest for gaming and anime and thought that you'd make a great first irl friend for Idia. And the very first moment you got introduced to him you knew that you two really are similar, and it wasn't just Ortho's exaggerated view point.

You both were shy and afraid of social interactions, you both enjoy video games and let's not forget that whenever you got the chance you'd talk Ace's and Deuce's ears off about the various animes you've watched. So you two really do have a lot in common. It's just that Idia seems to distant himself from others, never wanting to leave his room and only going out if he really needed to. And how could you call yourself his good friend if you don't try to make an effort to make his sad life a little better?

And that effort has worked too well. Because now everytime you are even mentioned Idia's heart feels heavy. If before he was just shy yet kind of willing to let you into his life now he feels as if something is totally wrong! Everytime you two hang out he feels as if there's a tugging feeling inside his chest, telling him to get closer and hug you.

The tips of his hair turn a light pink as his face reddens, he chokes a for a moment on nothing as he stares at your form. You were playing games at the moment and Idia couldn't help but think that you are the most beautiful thing in the world. Yet like always Idia tends to go towards the negative outlook on life instead of a positive one, and that leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembers that day, or rather specifically that fight.

"Why do you still come hang out with me?" you hear him ask with that soft voice of his. What a stupid question you think to yourself, doesn't he know that you come here to have fun? "What do you mean?" "do you just not remember a week ago?" you put down the controller you held and turned to fully look at him "ya know... When I went berserk and tried to unleash a bunch of monsters out to the world????" "you mean when you overbloted? Yeah I remember. It doesn't change the way I feel about you." Somehow these words pulled harder at his heart, as if you were pulling his very soul closer and closer towards you.

"Ever since I met you you were always showing signs of mental problems, and I still decided to become friends with you." now that Idia thinks about it, he did act like he had no real purpose. And now there's a nagging part in his brain that thinks otherwise.. why did feelings have to be so confusing and weird!? Is what he thinks.

"Well I don't get feelings either...." you say as if you read his mind, "but I'd like to ask, since you brought up the subject," "brought up the subject?" Idia whispers "what do you feel?" Now Idia is completely pink. From his hair to his face, if he could get redder he would! "Did I say that outloud!?" he panics. "Did you not mean to? Shouldn't friends tell eachother their problems and try to help eachother out?" Something about you saying that he's ''just a friend'' makes his heart sink. As if he's falling down after his overblot again, down and down until he hits rock bottom.

"Idia please...." you reach out for him, like you're trying to pull him up, to stop him from falling. "tell me what's wrong." Maybe he should explain the way he feels. Maybe he should try to understand that weird tugging feeling he has. Maybe it's something he just never felt before, and you are the cause of it, the reason he's been feeling more happy than what he's past self has felt on a regular basis.

There's no way it is romantic love...Right?

And he reaches out, holding your hand in his, letting you help him from the endless falling. Getting him out of that pit of dark thoughts. "I love you." You tell him, and he never hit rock bottom once you said that.

All of the sudden he's pink again, and as these words loop through his brain he gets it. That tugging, pulling feeling on his chest, his heart, was his love for you. His yearning to be with you. The want to make you happy as he keeps you by his side to maintain his happiness too.

But he's not deserving..

Is what his old self would've said. But now he knows that if he wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with him, saying no will just harm you. Saying no will just push you away and make you feel as if doesn't want that as well. So he does something he would've never thought he'll do in his life.

"I-I love you too!"

He says shakily as he leans forward to peck your lips, and you too, lean into it making his birthday a happy memory in his eyes again.

[writer-lythings]

Okay, I'm. Feel free to ignore this OP but if you are interested in discussion:

How do you define popular?

I really enjoy the angle at the beginning. Surely some of those other restaurants which couldn't keep up were equally passionate about food and not just out to get their paycheck. I appreciate the sympathy that drives this whole idea. It really is unfortunate not everyone can live their dreams in this reality we have on hand right now, where scarcity is very much present.

There are limits on the human attention span which will likely remain even after we solve the scarcity of basic needs, I agree.

But how do we define popular?

From Wikipedia for most watched YouTube videos:

"In November 2005, a Nike advertisement featuring Brazilian football player Ronaldinho became the first video to reach 1,000,000 views.[1] The billion-view mark was first passed by Gangnam Style in December 2012. On January 13, 2022, Pinkfong's "Baby Shark" became the first video to hit 10,000,000,000 views.[2]"

I would argue that we are currently undergoing a fascinating boom in artistic popularity and have likely not achieved the peak yet, even. The barrier of entry is low, yes. So is the layperson's access, such that even the most novice artist has a good chance of getting their art in front of hundreds of people, who, yes, may never choose to engage, yet how many people do you ignore on a short walk in your daily life? New York City had a population of 3 million people in 1900, and we can assume the odds of them all walking past the same lamppost was unlikely. Nowadays a small sticker or poster put up there can be photographed and shared across millions of views...yes this is anecdotal, I can't find the post I'm thinking of, but stretch your imagination a little bit. Bear with me. Sure, whoever tagged that lamppost probably isn't going down in the history books. Is that always the dream? To be remembered forever?

Or is it simply to be known in this moment, shared with a half dozen or half a million individuals who expended their limited attention on this small thing for awhile?

The owners of the closed restaurants would likely rather have gotten the acclaims and the media attention it takes to open dozens of locations. They would have appreciated an increase in all the various finite pressures which no doubt led to their closure. They weren't popular enough. They didn't have the social capital of the success story in your book. If everyone's dream is to achieve world rending fame the likes of which we'll still be discussing when Genghis Khan is forgotten, to reach the apex of their field such that it cannot ever be discussed without their name in the next breath...not everyone can achieve that dream.

But in a world where more people than ever are offering up their finite resources for art, for tasty food, then yeah, I can imagine a post scarcity utopia where everyone is also popular. It's not that much bigger of a stretch.

I've been reading a self-help book (don't ask) and they had this anecdote about this successful restaurateur and his struggle to operate dozens of restaurants. They talk about how the competition was steep, that at each location they had to be the ones to attract an audience, while nearby tried to do the same, but couldn't keep up and went out of business. Which kind of took me out a little bit because. Hmm. So obviously the story was framed with the guy as protagonist, about his passion for food and his drive to succeed. And I won't say he did anything wrong by doing his best, I'm happy for him that he succeeded and gets to live his life working with his passion and achieving his dream. But like, since these are real people being discussed, rather than characters, it did scan a little oddly to me to brush over in a line or two all the unnamed people who were probably equally passionate and driven, but yet failed, and thus could not be the focus of this story.

But I guess that's how it goes, right, for anybody to be the best at X thing, there have to be plenty of people who tried and failed. With occupations specifically there's the added bit where this reflects too a loss of livelihood and financial stability.

But even in a perfect world where society has moved completely beyond poverty, an imagined post-scarcity utopia, I'm not sure this is a problem that can conceivably be solved, no amount of resources can fix limited human time, attention, and prioritization. It kind of reminds me of that one tumblr post about the concert ticket problem, where even infinite resources still means only a limited amount of people can get tickets to a concert. Except rather than a temporary luxury (a single concert) it's an entire lifestyle; there's only a limited amount of popular restaurants.

But that's not really a hypothetical situation, though. That's something already happening today, in real life. And not just with restaurants. There have always been roles, lifestyles, jobs, goals, where the supply is far greater than the population can sustain. One only has to look at say, the art field, or all the people who want to be writers, to see that. And in those examples we can kind of see how this would play out - with the internet, the barrier to entry for creating and sharing art or writing is super low, anybody who wishes can be a writer or artist, and that's a wonderful thing. But the sheer amount of works being produced means an ever-shrinking percentage become well known and popular, simply because there are so many all competing for space in the public consciousness. And with art, at least, there is hypothetically room for an uncountable number of works to exist, without needing maintenance after being completed. For someone with a dream of being a chef and opening their own restaurant, you have additional concerns, like limited physical space, and having to maintain it through daily work rather than it ever being "completed." So probably the cap on the amount of popular restaurants able to exist simultaneously is even lower than the amount of popular artists. So unfortunately, no matter what, it seems only some people in life will be able to live their dreams.

[inkdemonapologist]

My BatDR Take That Used To Be Hot But I Left It Out On The Windowsill To Cool So You Should Be Able to Eat It Now Without Burning Your Tongue

its not actually that hot, is what im saying

Anyway my BatDR hot take is that BatDR's story is not fundamentally worse than BatIM with one exception; an exception that, for BatIM, covers a multitude of sins:

BatIM has a theme.

I can't presume the intentions of the creators, but if I had to write an essay on the themes in BatIM, it wouldn't be hard to pick one out: the cost of obsession, or even just, the ruin Joey brought on the studio. In the very first chapter, Henry asks "Joey, what were you doing?" and every single thing in the rest of the game revolves around that central question: what WAS Joey doing? Each audiolog is a snippet of the studio's path to this messed up state; each character you meet is someone ruined by Joey. The major antagonists echo Joey's flaws -- obsession with Bendy as more than a cartoon, obsession with perfection, obsession with fame and greatness and legacy -- but even without that, they're also each a picture of how the lives of people caught in the path of Joey's dream were ruined by it. Bertrum, for example, doesn't match the concept of rubberhose cartoons, but as yet another person screwed over by Joey, he fits the central question of the story, so he feels like he belongs here. Ultimately, in a narrative sense, the Ink Demon isn't the story's monster -- Joey is; the Ink Demon is just the consequence of his reckless ambition.

But what's the theme or central question of BatDR?

You can... try to pick out a theme. There's some promising options, because it feels like the story WANTED a theme, stating its emotional intentions more overtly -- "there's always a choice" to leave the darkness and chose hope; family and the struggle of living in a heavy legacy's shadow; or even just good old mewtwo-brand The Circumstance's Of One's Birth Are Irrelevant, It Is What You Do With The Gift Of Life That Determines Who You Are.

I think, even WITH the clumsy execution of Joey's "arc" and Audrey's lack of real choices, any of those could work about as well as BatIM. But unlike BatIM, the majority of the game doesn't tie in. Joey's tour can be considered relevant -- a picture of the family legacy and the "darkness" that Audrey doesn't yet know she's inheriting -- but like, the audiologs and hints and environment of BatDR are mostly teasing the question of What Is Gent Up To, and the takeover of Gent is detached from Audrey's choices, her family, her legacy, and Gent never really becomes a relevant threat to those things in this game. The Cult of Amok and the Ghost Train have nothing to do with any of these ideas. It might've been neat if Audrey had ever considered, "Did my father really drive all these people insane?", a hint of actually having to wonder about the darkness in her past. Even Wilson only barely brushes against these concepts; he doesn't like Joey and he also is trying to escape his family's heavy legacy, but it doesn't really reflect on his actions and we don't find that last part out until he's about to be dead.

There's also the question Wilson poses of "real" people versus ink creations, and what counts as valid "life." It would be an interesting theme with a lot to build off of in this setting, it ties into Wilson more as Wilson seems to represent the opinion that Inky Things Aren't Really Alive, which could've tied to Audrey (as an ink-person who has yet to accept that part of herself) and maybe given Wilson a reason to think it's fine to sacrifice her, it could've even tied to Gent (who don't even seem to value human life) -- but after Wilson asks the question, it doesn't tie into the direction things go. He smooshes a little Bendy, we see hints of his disregard for Betty, and then everyone continues with their plan to destroy the Ink Demon without any further moral quandaries about inky life.

The thing is, when you compare an element like, say, audiologs, there's a lot of differences you can point to -- but I don't actually think Lacie Benton's audiolog is notably better, taken on its own, than Grace Conway's or Kitty Thompson's, and yet tons of people were intrigued enough to flesh out Lacie. None of them are big plot points or compelling characters on their own; Lacie and Grace both give us a little note on what it's like working in the Studio, and Kitty shares a little bit on how Gent's expansion is affecting people. But when Lacie talks about Bertrum trying to make a creepy animatronic, that ties back into Joey's ill-fated schemes that are the point of the whole story. The question we're asking through the whole game is "what happened here?" so the fandom is interested in who Lacie is and what her life was like and extrapolates a whole person out of a couple sentences. But that's not the question in BatDR -- what has Wilson done to the Cycle and the Demon? Why? Who is Audrey really, and why is she here? Telling us new things about the Studio's fate seems strangely irrelevant to those questions, just an attempt to create a Mystery To Speculate On like the previous game did... but what question you're asking and how it fits into your story's main theme, like, matters. I absolutely believe that one clock animator guy would've been in EVERYONE'S crew if he'd been introduced in BatIM, but the context makes a difference; fleshing him out feels less relevant here.

The explanations of how and why Wilson did everything he did are baffling and handwavey, but in and of itself that's not a worse problem than anything else in the franchise -- I STILL don't understand why the Ink Machine needs pipes in the walls or even how it works, there's no good reason for Sammy to believe the Ink Demon will "set him free," most of Alice's motives don't make sense, etc etc etc. But the thing is that in BatDR, the wibbly bit is the closest thing to a central question we have! Wilson, what were you doing? The theme doesn't really explore or connect to that question, so the explanations that are finally tossed our way feel lacking in a way that BatIM's handwaved elements don't. There's a lot about Joey's motivation in BatIM that we can't know, but the heart of it resonates -- Joey wanted something, he was willing to exploit people to get it, and he became obsessed and prioritised that dream at any cost. We'll weather a thousand logistical inconsistencies if it's got heart.

But all of that said.... to be honest, I don't think Lacie overtly fits that theme anyway. Even, like, Sammy is iffy -- we don't really know what happened to him, only that he didn't used to be made of ink and worship Bendy, and now he does. We assume Joey's nonsense had something to do with what happened to him (though the books later assert his influence was indirect at best), because when there's a pattern, we can fill in the blank. So many fan creators found a place for Lacie, Grant, and Shawn in the cycle as butcher clones or lost ones, so many people imagined that Wally must be the Boris we meet, because that would've fit the pattern, the idea that the point of what we're seeing is the downfall of the studio. It's not actually that BatIM did a great job tying everything together -- it's that BatIM gave us a compelling idea and that was all it took to make everything else SEEM like it could find a place to fit. This is what I mean when I say BatIM's theme covers a multitude of sins. There's a LOT of characters in BatIM that don't make sense. There's a lot of inconsistencies and things that just sort of happen without any real reason. Characters don't really have "arcs" so much as different states they happen to be in at different times. But because there's a central question and the story doesn't wander away from it, our pattern-loving human brains will slot in all the pieces and do all the work to make the story feel at least somewhat coherent.

The things that happened in BatDR aren't a whole lot less coherent than BatIM imo, they just don't tie into a bigger theme or any of the questions the story's asking, making "how do they fit into all this" feel irrelevant, making it easier to forget entire sections and harder to get invested in audiolog characters. I think a lot of the other criticisms people have for BatDR's story are very valid, but I also suspect that if BatDR had a more successful theme/central question, then a lot of its flaws would be easier to overlook -- just like BatIM.

[tierras]

hii everyone 🥀🪽 i wanted to share that i will be traveling to cairo at the end of november and will be meeting with displaced Palestinian families. til then, i will be fundraising for these families in hopes of providing funds for them to pay for their rent, clothing, food, medical expenses, and any other needs.

to meet my goal, i am also planning on having a couple raffles throughout the next two months so stay tuned <3

update 9/14: enter my first raffle! [closed, prize claimed]

update 10/6: enter my second raffle [closed, prize claimed]

update 10/26: enter my last raffle [closed, prize claimed]

but for now, please reblog/share and donate to my campaign

[auspicioustidings]

Soap isn't proud that his first reaction is bitter jealousy aimed towards some poor omega he doesn't know before his brain catches up and it switches to abject horror.

Philip Graves has a bite mark on him. It's small, he'd guess some little female maybe. Soap doesn't have any claiming marks, practically nobody in their line of business does. It's not right, not when an omega can feel everything their pack goes through, not when intense pain transfers. Even him, an omega but one prepared for pain and death, has never dared suggest any claiming bites to his team. They would say no anyway no matter how much they loved him or wanted him. It's a cruel fate being an omega tied to soldiers.

They've been torturing him for information for hours.

"Whit the fuck did ye dae Phil?"

"Couldn't help myself after she tried to run. She should have known a predators instincts are to hunt."

[doodlejoltik]

my favourite writing device is having an un-Rei-liable narrator

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]