#Dread of. knowing that I can't really stop myself from thinking about it. due to. persistent dreams.

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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[verosikastrikerstellaexcuser]

Stolas n Stella Anon again, but I just realized something...

Octavia is a plot device isn't she? She's going to be the reason that Blitz n Stolas end up together isn't she? Let's think about that for a moment, Stolas is going to end up all sad again as Via calls him out, cry, cry, cry, hugs and blah, blah.

Swing into S3 and now Blitz feels obligated to help Stolas with his relationship with Octavia and help repair it, because he's a dad too and he sees how much Stolas loves his daughter(...even though he only seems to notice her due to plot writing, we never see them together otherwise in any other scenes). So then this actually has them spending time and actually getting to know one another.

...Starting to think this show has been half n half, in which the first half is a dumpster fire but then the second half is just building from the ground up.

Which might work...if not for the fact that Blitz still is being treated like complete shit by Stolas and doesn't seem to really care about his own feelings(as indicated where he didn't really answer Blitz' question and instead just said "I want SOMEONE to love me!" Which that could mean anyone...not specifically Blitz).

So instead of Stolas' character doing the work, it's going to be Octavia who's going to do it, isn't it?

Did I just predict how the writing is going? If I did I really am going to hate myself..

Yeup... it sucks. Shes not like Fizz and Blitz, shes more like Verosika and Blitz - in that her character exists just to be a thing in the background of her father's story and so her father has drama and is the dad to a teenage goth just like Blitz. Its tiring as hell how frequently female characters end up like this. They're Blitz's adopted daughter, St*las' daughter, Moxxie's wife, Blitz's ex, feels like they're always way more known for how they relate to the male characters, instead of being known as individuals first. Fizz we got to see the life hes made for himself in depth, he gets to be far more than just an ex childhood friend of Blitz's. He's still that, but also more on top. Feels like Blitz was his ex friend as much as he was Blitz's. And he's a side character unlike characters like Millie and Loona!!!! I just want to see deeper into the female characters lives argh 😭

Don't even get me started on how nervous I am to see Stella and Octavia portrayed together if they ever even bother to given how bad the S2 writing is... You just know they'll make it black and white abusive. They'd never dare to show us a loving (even if with unhealthier parts) relationship between Stella and Octavia. That would make things too complex and gray. The fact we get so little female-female character interactions and exploration of female relationships be they romantic or platonic or familial or something else, its all more proof imo that the female characters are treated unfairly. All these daddy issues but no no mother/daughter content. No mother/son either even. Like I really can't get over that they've still not ever actually shown us Stella and Octavia interacting at all, as much as I dread it now we're in S2. Not a single time 17 episodes in (and remember how fast this show goes). And thats all despite the constant St*las-and-St*las'-family focus HB has despite it supposedly being the IMP show. Its ridiculous. I do wonder if part of it is because of Viv changing her mind about this show's plot and what she wants the characters to be, so she just left it, because its less to retcon later. Just can't help but suspect it...

I do agree as well about Ocatvia ending up being the one who needs to "do the work", I really wouldn't be surprised if it goes that way and the plot forces her to "stop being a moody teen" and accept her dad's new relationship. I always thought S1 was great in how the initial cheating was portrayed in a more nuanced and understandable way for every character. Like, upon being propositioned for the book St*las was head over heels after living a life stifled in a relationship he didn't want for his wife's sake. But this sudden cheating threw everything into discord and upset Stella which in turn upset Octavia as her home life became constant chaotic screaming and arguments, repressed resentment boiling to the surface now St*las had broken whatever fake relationship they had. It was great in that you understood why a heavily repressed lonely St*las would cheat, but that still didn't make it okay. He needed to get his life in order and the proper way to do things would have been to break up with Stella first, get that in order, then only when that was sorted to go and find another partner. All while being open and up front about the situation to Octavia as he did so. But obviously this show was originally about people who were flawed but not irredeemable. A better show would have St*las realize this and then explain that hes realized it to Octavia, and would have him being the one to work to make amends. His work in turn would make Octavia forgive and accept him over time.

But yeah, we're no longer in S1, so I really don't think they're gonna pull something like that anymore. Instead, it'll be more bs like Loona lecturing Octavia that her dads still so totally trying so stop being mean to him he can't help needing to act extremely sexually in front of you his daughter omg!!!1111 He was still trying so why are you so mean about him saying Blitz is big dicked in front of you!!!!11 It really fucking annoys me. Octavia hasn't done anything wrong and the idea of them pulling some bullshit to make St*las a victim of her or something, I'm really hoping they don't pull it. But given the downward spiral of woobification of St*las... yeah :(

[floralcrematorium]

If you could picture FrUk (either as individuals or as a duo) at only one point in time (present, past, or future) where in time and space would they fit ideally? What AU do they permanently live in for you?

!!! Thanks for the ask!

I tend to stick to human AUs because the whole immortality thing freaks me out a little bit (my personal and chronic existential dread...) and I genuinely cannot get a grip on how interpersonal relationships between characters would work when you consider personal strife as well as actual politics and history. Plus in human AUs, I can just stick 'em in silly situations. For a while I entertained myself with a silly grocery store AU that led to some very fun New Character Groups (EX: I put Natalya, Piri, and Feliks in customer service bc I think the three of them together would actually be really fun, but this post isn't about them.). Does it make sense to stick Heta characters in an American style grocery store? No. But the shenanigans entertain me.

Cough. FrUK. Buckle up.

I'm an absolute sucker for FACE fam AUs and just soft FrUK content, so I really enjoy slice of life modern things with them. I realistically could enjoy putting them in any time period, but FrUK is just comfort to me atp. Literally talking with friends, I'll send cat videos and be like "wow this is so FrUK"

Speaking of cats. I yap with @jaynuu (hi sorry for the ping) a bunch abt FrUK + them owning their nekotalia counterparts. Them owning the cats can literally be applied to nationverse, human AU, human AU with FACE fam, etc etc it goes on and on - there are so many variables

Together we've surmised that Arthur owned Neko-France first; a fluffy little monster who has known nothing but the lavish comfort of the indoors. Whether or not Arthur's got Neko-Fran before he and Francis are together/living together depends on the situation, but Neko-Eng comes along after. Francis manages to tame this absolutely feral cat, and nobody understands how, because he seems to hate everyone but Francis. Neko FRUK get along very well. FrUK just have gay cats now.

Neko-Fran is a strictly indoor cat while Neko-Eng is allowed to go outside (the guy would NOT stop howling to be let out, after all, he did spend most of his life outdoors). One afternoon FrUK come back home to find Neko-Eng out on the front doorstep with two kittens he's randomly acquired????? They're on the younger side and both a vet visit and asking around yield no results as to where the kittens came from, so Francis and Arthur just have two??? New cats?? Which are Neko-NA bros. Neko-FrUK take to caring for the kittens as their own and shenanigans ensue in a household with FOUR cats

I have been trying to dip my feet into some historical works, but through a piece with Miss Ukraine, I'm learning I'm just not very good at it due to writing the dialogue and worrying about if I'm getting things correct. I would eventually like to play around with FrUK from 1300s-1600s with the Hundred Years' War, the Wars of the Roses, and the Tudor Period as a whole. I've been DYING to play with the Field of Cloth of Gold for a hot minute. While it's something I'd love to do, I don't know if I'll ever get around to it because in the last year or so I just have lost a lot of braincells. If I could think coherently, I'd love to sit down, research, and craft some story, but alas. I can't decide if I'd use regular 1P FrUK or if I'd use nyo!FrUK either. I would LOVE to play around with designing some 16th century outfits for the girlies

[findingmypeace]

My life has been going 100+ mph since Wednesday. I don't even have time for a full update right now. Long story short: I will be starting iop on tomorrow. I was assessed for php but was given permission to do iop due to my job. As of now, and what I agreed to, is that this will be a short time in HLOC. I think this is the best way to go about things. I trying really hard to eliminate b/ping on my own but I'm white knuckling it and did end up doing it a few more times. I need the extra support and accountability while I try this out.

I am both relieved, motivated, scared, and dreading it. Look at those dialectics! I know I need this. I don't need to attend groups all day or take time off work, etc. Logistically this will be a much, much easier set up then this past Fall/Winter in php/iop with very little interference with my job. I will be busy but I will also occupied during the evenings when b/p episodes happen the most often.

I hardly ever feel proud of myself but I do feel good that I am choosing to stop things in the middle of the spiral rather than all the way at the bottom. I've never done that before. Yes, the ed is screaming at me and there are definitely parts of it that still feel nonnegotiable but I try to keep reminding myself of that phrase I wrote the other day. You can't climb Mt. Everest in a day. I'll just start where I can and go from there.

More to come if I ever have more than a few minutes to write. There's bullshit at work I want to vent about (I will have to be vague) and the finding a roommate saga and a few other things.

Also, I have not been able to keep up with tumblr at all so I have no idea what's happening with anyone. :(

[schmergo]

In general, I tend to feel a pretty big disconnect between how 'anxiety' is typically described and what anxiety actually feels like for me, to the point where I didn't actually realize that what I was experiencing was anxiety until I was like 27 years old even though there's not really anything else you could call it.

I joined a weekly anxiety workshop group several years ago and it was a baffling experience because it almost felt like I had joined a peanut butter sandwich workshop and everyone else was visibly assembling and eating turkey sandwiches before my eyes. Like, am I the only one whose sandwich tastes like this? Am I the only one whose peanut butter sandwich isn't improved by putting mayo on it?

Almost the whole workshop was people talking about anxieties due to managing their responsibilities at work, whether they're any good at their job and family duties, workplace social politics, and worrying whether people in their life care about them. We'd do things like breathing exercises and stuff to center ourselves in the 'now' instead of worrying and wondering. To me, these worries all seem super manageable and the kinds of concerns I usually deal with pretty well.

For me, anxiety almost always comes from feeling like I'm in physical danger in some way RIGHT NOW. Like I get stuck in this loop of constantly checking some part of my body over and over again because I'm worried something might be wrong with it and I might be dying. Or I'm lying in bed and hear the dishwasher make a funny sound and think someone broke into my house and is going to kill me and sit awake in bed all night freaking out. I get these weird feelings of certain dread and foreboding like, "You will get hit by a car and die if you walk to the library tonight." And the weirdest one (which I was struggling with during the anxiety group but haven't for a few years) is sometimes I get stuck manually monitoring my breathing and swallowing until I start, like, hyperventilating for days on end.

So breathing exercises tend to freak me out because as soon as I start consciously controlling my breathing, I can't stop and I'm stuck breathing manually for days, afraid to sleep because I'm worried I'll stop in my sleep. Physically centering exercises where we notice sensations in our body and things around us don't help me because I start noticing signs that I might be dying and then worry about them for days after the physical centering exercise. I feel like my anxiety comes from being extremely present in and aware of my body, not the other way around.

In general, gentle self care isn't soothing for me. I want to know that I'm not going to die in the next 30 minutes, not waste what might be my valuable remaining minutes doing something soothing and relaxing.

I also got some apps to manage anxiety and I found myself being like, "Well bananas certainly don't make my peanut butter sandwich WORSE, so I'll start incorporating those into my daily peanut butter sandwich routine I guess," but didn't really feel like it helped. I don't really see how stuff like journaling, yoga, etc. really help these feelings at all. Affirmations don't help. I don't need to feel like I'm 'good enough' as a person, I want to know if I'm in danger.

Does anyone else get this kind of anxiety?

[lythea-creation]

Broken Toys - Johanna Mason x fem reader (Chapter 15)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

word count: 2.393

------------------

When Mary pulled me into a tight embrace, I froze.

Was it real?

I had dreamed a lot lately, happy dreams instead of nightmares. Somehow, I dreaded those dreams even more. When I woke up, I always felt like I had lost something important. And then remembered that my nightmares still existed, although they had turned to reality. It felt like my own mind was mocking me.

Therefore it was hard for me to distinguish between dreams and reality. Nothing was too absurd or cruel to happen anymore. And at the same time, happy occurrings seemed simply too good to be true.

It had taken a few days before my family had gotten the allowance to visit me. But now Mary and Livia were here, visiting me in the infirmary of district 13.

Mary cried while holding me.

I had shut my tears away. Otherwise I would never be able to stop them again. I could not allow me to break down now. Instead I needed to concentrate on getting Johanna back and supporting the rebellion.

But President Coin had fended off all my attempts to persuade her to rescue the captives. Slowly but surely I started losing trust in her. I would always be grateful that she had saved my family from 11, but that did not mean I would follow her blindly.

Mary told me about their time in district 13. Although the rules were strict, no one was starving and there were no harsh punishments. It was easy to improve the situation for people who had lived in misery before.

“I wish I could have supported you. You must have felt so lonely”, she stated sadly.

I thought back to the last year. Thought about the day I had started leading the rebellion in district 11.

About my sleepless nights that had been filled with nightmares, fear and grief. About the comforting phone calls with Johanna. She had not even said anything special. Just hearing her voice had made me feel better.

Why had I not realized sooner, how important she really was to me?

Back then when our phone calls had stopped due to Snow, I had worked harder for the rebellion. Tried to blend everything else out. Tried to blend myself out, like I was doing right now. I was working against myself, losing myself, to save myself.

It did not make any sense and yet it appeared to be the only option for me right now.

“The fact that you all were safe was more comforting than anything you could have done for me”, I ensured her with an exhausted smile.

Pain, numbness and exhaustion was everything I felt. Kind of contradicting. You should think that numbness could not come with any other emotions, yet it did.

“(f/n), you've done so much already. Maybe you should rest properly”, Mary advised me.

Tomorrow my schedule would start; my training, preparation for the war.

“I can't afford to rest. Everyone's fighting to change Panem.”

“You have to think about yourself, (f/n). There are a lot of people willing to fight. You're finally safe now. Don't jump into risking your life again and again.”

Her words showed her concern about me, her love for me. I was aware of that, but she did not know how it was.

What it meant to be a victor, a survivor of the Hunger Games. As a victor safety simply did not exist. You could never turn back. You had a responsibility for the lives you had taken. And Snow did not neglect his victors either.

But if I said that to Mary, it would just hurt her more. She wanted me to be safe and happy.

So I took another direction. “What about the people of the districts? Where is their safety? Where is their choice? Mary, I'm not one of the Capitol's citizens who leans back and watches. I'm a citizen of district 11. I haven't forgotten my life before becoming a victor. If I don't fight now it only shows that the Capitol controls me. I may be the Capitol's pawn, but I won't play after Snow's rules, although I have to get Johanna out of there. And Annie and Peeta.”

Mary was crying. “You've grown too fast. That only highlights how much you endured.”

I pulled her into a hug. “It's alright. I'll fight for a life where we can all live safely.”

As I had promised to Rue.

The next day I got my schedule printed onto my arm. Weird, but I should not be one to judge.

My first appointment was breakfast. But I could not help myself and skipped it to go to President Coin.

I knocked at her door. “President Coin? It's (f/n).”

“Come in.”

My request to rescue the captives had only gotten passed on by her assistants. Maybe I could persuade her personally.

To my surprise, she was alone in her office. “Hello, (f/n). Seems like you recovered well”, she greeted me.

Something about her had unsettled me at our first meeting, but I had been too upset to notice what it had been. Now I knew. I could not read her.

Over the years I had observed the people around me. I had needed to do it to survive, both in district 11 and in the arena. Hence, I had gotten excellent at reading and predicting other people. But Coin did not show any emotions, neither through her voice nor her body language.

“Though you already deviated from your schedule”, she added.

I did not like her change of topic. “I did not mean to be rude or ungrateful, but I had to come here. Please, you have to rescue the captives. I ...”

She raised her hand, signaling me to stop talking. “Don't get me wrong. If I could, I would rescue them right away. But it's not that simple. We don't know enough about their situation. We might lose many soldiers and still not be able to save them. The risks and probability of failure are too high. Furthermore, Heavensbee can't contact his allies at the Capitol. So we don't even know where the captives are held”, she resonated.

I clenched my hands into fists, feeling my fingers getting wet again. Although I was already wearing a bandage around my hand, I still managed to reopen the cut on my palm whenever I was suppressing my emotions. It had not been able to heal until now.

“If you hurry, you can still eat breakfast. You have a tough schedule today”, she reminded me.

I could not care less. What was a tough schedule even supposed to mean? Could it get any harder than it was?

Before I could do something I would regret later, I left the room and went to the canteen. It was strange to be here. I knew literally no one, except Katniss, Haymitch, Finnick and my family.

Finnick was inside his hospital room, devastated because of Annie. I was also worried about her, but rather due to her mental state. They would not harm her too badly.

Johanna and Peeta would have it way worse.

I could not spot Katniss anywhere either.

Haymitch was somewhere underground, having to become sober.

My family had another breakfast time than me.

So I was on my own.

Reluctantly I gulped down my breakfast and followed my schedule.

The first few hours were strategize sessions. Like a mentor needed to be taught in strategizing. If I did not know how to strategize with my skills, how would I still be alive after two Hunger Games? Ridiculous!

I was able to answer every question without even listening, impressing the other students and the instructor. It did not matter. It was a waste of time. I should rather learn something useful! I lacked physical, fighting skills.

In the break I hurried through the hallway and met Heavensbee. At least my luck had not left me completely, although it seemed wrong to say that in the context of meeting the gamemaster of my own games.

“Heavensbee! Could you help me out, please?”

He smiled at me. Strange, but I had the feeling that I could trust him. Never mind.

“(f/n), what is it?”

“I need a new schedule. More physical training and less strategizing. As a mentor I already know all that.”

He nodded understandingly. “I will see what I can do”, he promised and continued his way.

For the rest of the day, I had stamina and strength training. It was exhausting, but nothing compared to the arena, where I had jumped from tree to tree for hours while fighting of stubborn attacks of the Capitol, or running away from other tributes, or peacekeepers in 11.

“For all of you who aim for the top and still have some energy and willpower left, you can stay here for combat training”, our female instructor Zianne declared.

“What do we need combat for if we have our guns?”, a man about my age wondered.

I sighed in annoyance. What had happened to me? My patience level had dropped significantly since Johanna had been captured by the Capitol. The lack of sleep did not exactly help.

Zianne eyed me sharply. I knew that my reaction had not been fair. “Cadet! What's your name?”

Seriously? Cadet? She could have at least called me soldier.

“You don't know?”, I thought aloud. That was something I was not used to anymore at all.

“No. Why should I? Do you think you're special and can degrade your comrades? Do you think you're better than everyone else? If that's the case, you will be up against me. Right now!”

The other people of my group had formed a circle around Zianne and me now. Of course, no one had left. They were curious.

Zianne was standing in front of me in a fighting stance.

“I don't think that I'm better than the others and I'm sorry for behaving inappropriately.”

“Save your apology for later. You can't back out now”, she simply replied.

How was I supposed to fight her? She was a skilled and trained instructor, while I had never fought like this before, just with Johanna and Finnick. But it had not been serious. My movements had been random.

Suddenly Zianne started attacking me instead of waiting for me to make the first move.

I dodged just in time. Actually I managed to dodge all her attacks.

After a while I had gotten used to her movements and was even able to land a punch, although she parried it. This went on for a few minutes.

I managed to land some punches, but at some point she managed to kick my leg which was still hurting from the burn wounds that were not completely healed yet.

I hissed in pain and my vision got blurry.

Out of habit my first instinct was to escape, but the other soldiers were blocking the escape route. So I had no other option than to keep fighting, although I was in the defense now.

I was used to moving despite pain, but my leg did not move like I wanted it too. Hence, I was able to dodge, but not to attack. My speed had decreased.

“That's enough!”, Zianne proclaimed.

Relief flooded me. But after all my experiences I still did not let my guard down.

“Surprisingly well done. Now tell me more about you. There has to be a story behind your skills”, Zianne encouraged me.

“I would not consider them skills. That was my first real fight”, I admitted.

“No way”, Zianne exclaimed.

“I'm (f/n) (l/n). Leader of the riots in district 11, victor of the 72nd Hunger Games and apparently survivor of the 75th”, I introduced myself, hearing gasps among the soldiers.

“I see. We usually don't watch the games here in 13”, Zianne explained. “But now I think I understand. Are you still injured, except your hand?”

I nodded. “Healing burn wounds on mainly my lower body, but that won't stop me. Could we continue the training, please? I have a lot to learn and not much time. I can't afford to slack off.”

Zianne grinned at me and turned her attention back to the others. “Take her as an example! That's the spirit! No matter how good you are, there is always room to grow!”

We trained for another hour, before Zianne called it a day.

“You don't belong here”, she talked to me privately.

“I know that my fighting skills suck. That's why I'm training”, I clarified.

“No, that's not what I meant. You're still injured and performed better than everyone else. You're too good for this group. You have experience and a strong will”, she complimented me.

“Thanks, but it's not enough.”

“What do you think about some private sessions? I could show you how to handle a gun. If you want to train it with the others, you will have to wait until next week”, she offered.

“You would do that? That'd be great!”

She gestured me to sit down on the ground with her. “First, tell me more about yourself. What are you good at?”

It reminded me of my first time in the train on the way to my first Hunger Games. Evaluating my strengths and weaknesses.

“I'm good at climbing, hiding and moving silently. Oh, and observing others. That's how I managed to land some hits on you. I analyzed your movements while dodging.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Impressive. I think I can work with that. Ever heard of snipers?”

“No”, I admitted.

“These people are hiding at a place a good distance away from the target. They watch their target and shoot in the right moment, giving no reaction time. When a good sniper wants to kill, they will kill. The target has no chance.”

“Sounds intimidating.”

“Yes. It's not easy to kill, especially for the first time. But you survived two Hunger Games. I guess you'll be fine.”

The description of a sniper actually fitted me. Hiding and watching, before ending it with one shot.

I agreed.

“Then, let's see what you've got!”, Zianne exclaimed excited.

---------------

Next Chapter

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

books i read in february!

Never Let Me Go - Kazuo Ishiguro

this was FANTASTIC!! really lived up to my expectations. i finished it on the bus and i had to chew the inside of my mouth to stop myself from crying. i'm definitely going to continue seeking out Ishiguro's books and i'm sure i'm going to enjoy them too!

Indelicacy - Amina Cain

didn't enjoy this much at all. it was just really... vague? i don't know how else to put it. i understand characters and plot points being vague at the start of a story, but with this book i made the mistake of thinking the characters would develop more depth/we would find out why they act the way they do/literally any aspect of the book would become more detailed as the book continued, but this just didn't happen. i found the protagonist not at all interesting or compelling - you really don't find out much more about her by the end of the book than you know from the first three pages (or even just from the blurb). a nothingburger, really. felt like a real waste of time.

The Premonition - Banana Yoshimoto

this was fantastic! really unexpectedly and quietly beautiful. i can't quite sum it up, it's kind of unlike anything i've ever read. really good tho ❤️

Lord Jim at Home - Dinah Brooke

this was good but for completely the opposite reasons as The Premonition. a visceral and disturbing dissection of privilege in post-war britain, darkly funny at times and horrific at others. the protagonist was incredibly complex, not so much an actor in his own life as a stick floating down a river, until the fatal moment when he does act almost without realising. that moment really creeps up on you, even though you know something is coming due to the masterful build-up of suspense and the creeping feeling of dread. feels incredibly modern, both in narrative style and content, even though it was first released in the 70s.

+

currently reading: at the start and now at the end of february i was and am still very caught up in the Terra Ignota series by Ada Palmer. i'm now about 150 pages from the end of the last book, Perhaps the Stars, and honestly i don't know what i'm going to use to fill the hole it will leave in my mind. i'm obsessed guys please read them and be obsessed with me 🥺

on my radar for march: i swear in front of all these witnesses - this will be the month i start Moby Dick. speaking it into existence. hold me to this promise guys please. i will probably also read something short in between these two really long ones - possibly The Wall by Marlen Haushofer or Our Lady of the Nile by Scholastique Mukasonga. i've been really craving a trashy detective novel but i don't have any of those so i'm feeding that craving by watching Midsomer Murders

[scopop08]

Started vault hunters, and I was inspired by @theminecraftbee to write out some vault logs to keep me playing! (Because I am so lost. I have no idea what to do in the slightest) (if you don't want to be tagged just let me know!)

Buckle in for the back half of completely unexplained oc/persona lore. I'm writing it as if it's an audio log so I'm going to try and style it like auto-generated captions!

The littlest bit of context: This Scopop (5C0) is a robot built to imitate the actual Scopop, who died a couple hundred years prior to this audio log. Due to an accident, 5C0 recently reactivated and found himself server hopping with increasingly large gaps in his memory and a sense of dread about his identity he can't seem to shake

SERVER LOG - ENTRY 0001

-

MODEL 5C0 - REBOOT INITIATED

MODEM CONNECTION SEARCH INITIATED:

| MODEM IS DISCONNECTED. PREPARING TO PROCESS MULTIPLE RESTART ATTEMPTS |

MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM CONNECTION FOUND. PREPARING TO CONNECT.

deBug.Log("Connection Found! Preparing To Enter Server!");

CONNECTED - PRIMARY MOBILITY=> BEGIN ACTIVATION - SECONDARY MOBILITY=> BEGIN ACTIVATION - OPTICAL UNITS => BEGIN ACTIVATION - INTERNAL TEMPERATURE SELF REGULATION=> BEGIN ACTIVATION - PROCESSING AND MEMORY STORAGE => BEGIN ACTIVATION

CODE REALIGNMENT COMPLETED, ALL ACTIVATION SEQUENCES PROCESSED

-

-

---

SERVER LOG - ENTRY 0002

0002

00:00 ●──────────────── 4:34

⇆ ◁ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ▷

( THE FOLLOWING IS TRANSCRIBED FROM AUDIO RECORDING "0002" WITHIN THE PLAYER-SERVER-LOG SYSTEM )

Okay... Uh, do I know how... Yeah... (Shuffling) And there we go! We are recording! Here I am, your wonderful host, and this... Is the server!

Oh.

We aren't recording video. Awesome. Okay. Uh. Remember to edit this part out later. Actually I'm just going to... Yeah I'm gonna stop it and try again. Give me a sec.

...

We're back up! Okay, log entry número uno. Okay. Uh... Sorry, I'm trying to think of what I want to, I don't know, log.

Oh! It seems like before I got access- well, technically- the server was just recording my activation sequences. That was actually número uno. I'll try and wipe it later since there's about a billion pages of shit. You know, new server, code realignment and all that. First time doing it as- first time in a while I've server hopped, but feelings still the same I think. Nothing like the warm welcome of passing out and falling flat on your face at spawn. And, uh, speaking of the server, I have approximately zero idea where I am! That's a good thing to note. Absolutely no clue. Nothing except the book at spawn tells me where I got dumped, and even that's just a server name. 'Vault Hunters'. Or a pack name? It doesn't seem like a server, really. I think I'm completely alone.

Lots of new stuff here. Biomes, animals... Ores mostly. Almost made me have another system shutdown because I couldn't turn it back to manual when it was freaking out. Got pockets full of it now, and a nice little house going. Nothing with the mods. I don't know if I could deal with any of that stuff. (laughter) ... (Sigh) The only thing I'm missing is a roof, because I can't find enough copper. Admin knows you need help when you're getting drenched and the thing you're desperately wishing for is copper.

...This, uh, server seems to have completely rewired- Changed my code from the last one, though, so I do have to find things to eat. Er- yeah. Not so bad, I've already started up a wheat farm, and there's tons of sheep around here. Something about that last bit feels weird, but everything feels weird and if I knew why I would've already fixed it. Not like I know much of anything at this point.

(Sharp exhale) Okay, uh, no more melodramatics. I'm already talking to myself in an empty house, let's not make it any worse. I'm... gonna start digging though my chests. Get a basic inventory of everything I've got, and type it under this if I think anything seems important. Also a goal- Try and download some info about this server so I'm not completely in the dark. Before that, though, I have to fix my interface from when that creeper blew right the fuck up in my face. Respawn didn't want to fix that one. I guess because it's more of a mechanical or aesthetic problem than a functional one. But it still sucks. I had to loot my own corpse, by the way. Which was awesome. Glad this server lets you see your own dead body on the ground and makes you pick up your stuff from it. Not existential crisis inducing at all. But yeah- back on track.

Here's my list of goals. Uno, sort my stuff, find what I think is important. Dos, read the book I got at spawn over a couple more times. Doesn't help because it's more like a glossary than anything but maybe it'll finally get through my thick skull. (Metallic clang) (sharp inhale). Right. Uh. Tres, fix my interface and download the crafting recipes at least. Give me some idea of what's happening here.

(Shuffling) (Chair briefly drawing across the floor)

Alright. Goodnight Chicago, thank you for tuning in to the podcast. I'll catch you next episode. And next episode is when anything important happens or I figure something out. And Chicago is me in the future listening to this. Hi me. Anyway. Ending it now. Goodb-

( END OF TRANSCRIPT )

USER INPUT:

List of important things: dimensional crystal (o smth close to that i forgot), 2 dias. Nothing else seems important. Check back later. i keep finding vases in the caves n they might have smth cool

( PLAYER-SERVER-LOG 0002 END )

I'll get into actual vault hunters stuff in the next one, I just wanted to have fun with this one, setting it up and seeing how I would want to write it!

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

How about Phileas, presumably by mistake, stopping briefly in Volterra and making a strange and spooky acquaintance who seems oddly friendly and like he wants... something from Phileas, but he can't work out exactly what it is. Aro, on the other hand, gets to learn more than he ever wanted about fuck what are they called. Uuuh. Flying ballons. A basket under a balloon. You know the thing. Flying basket vehicle. A blimp's child. The thing.

I'm trying to think if I've ever been asked to write something between these two before because I swear it sounds familiar, but I think I'm mistaking it for Phileas and Malcolm, haha.

Warning: blood drinking from a glass

On with the fic!

--

"Should we not wait for my friends?" Phileas asked to the oddly kind host of the villa he had found himself at.

The locals had been a bit reluctant to bring him here, and from what Passepartout translated for him, they said that the Volturi family were the richest of the area and might have accommodations more to Phileas' tastes. Even though they were also saying something among themselves about these three not making it through the night, whatever that meant.

Or had they meant it would be a long night? Passepartout hadn't quite heard what was said, so his translation might be off.

"Your young journalist friend is exploring our archives, she is quite fascinated with my family's collection. Is she an avid reader?" The host, a fellow named Aro who looked around Phileas' age, with strange eyes that he couldn't quite make out the color of, smiled.

"She is a bit of a researcher like myself and her father, I think she might like a little information of your beautiful city for her latest article and she'll want it to be accurate." Phileas smiled. "And Passepartout?"

"A nap, he had said. He is resting in his room for the night." Aro said, the smile still on his face as a servant appeared, carrying two, beautiful decanters that had to be pure crystal. One of them was placed before Phileas, filled with wine, the other before Aro. His was of a strange, rich red.

"It's a special blend." Aro commented as he pulled out the glass stopper and poured himself a glass. "It's... not one I recommend to guests, it's very potent, and a family drink. However, yours is quite a rich variant, a local specialty."

"Ah, yes, thank you." Phileas nodded, smiling just a little at his host. He didn't understand why the villagers had been so worried about Aro, he was so kind and very sweet, especially to Phileas. In fact, he seemed rather fascinated with Phileas' stories of world traveling.

"Tell me," Aro spoke as he poured a glass of wine for Phileas, "more about this flying device of yours. I do not believe I've ever heard of such a thing. At least, not since daVinci and his ridiculous flying nonsense."

It sounded rather like Aro was speaking of a conversation rather than a historical fact, but Phileas brushed off the mild confusion. "Well, it's not really my machine, it belonged to a Frenchman who was willing to allow myself and my friends to fly in it! We flew over the Alps to come here to Italy!"

"Ah? This is not your first time being here in Italy?"

"Oh, no, just my second. And it's beautiful, to actually be able to see more of it than just a bit from a train and from above before..." Phileas coughed, then took a drink. "Before the balloon crashed due to a miscalculation."

This seemed to amuse Aro greatly and it took Phileas a second to register that a sudden shock of cold against his skin was due to Aro gently touching his hand with his own. Phileas would have pulled away, but he was overcome with a feeling of dread and a little fear at the idea of upsetting his gracious host.

Aro smiled sweetly at him, his eyes bright with curiosity and something else. "Go on, tell me more of your flight above the Alps, such an impossible task for a mere human. And yet, here you are, having accomplished said task. You are... interesting, Phileas."

A shiver ran up Phileas' whole body, there was something hidden in that last sentence, but he couldn't figure it out. It was odd, it was like... Aro wanted something from him. He looked away, nodding, and tried to continue his story of his experience of flying a hot air balloon.

However, it was a bit distracting to have cold fingers gently rubbing circles on the back of his hand. He kept watching Aro sip from his glass, his lips painted a dark, shiny red, it reminded Phileas of b-

"Mr. Fogg!" Came a happy voice, distracting the two men seated at the dining table. Ms. Fix came in, her little notebook in hand. "You would not believe the collection they have here! I know a man like you would love to take a gander of the sights himself!"

Phileas blinked, feeling a strange sense of... disconnection when Aro pulled his hand away. There was an odd tingling sensation left where those fingers had been. "I am glad you enjoyed my extensive collection, dear Abigail." Aro said, his voice cheerful. "I am rather proud of my knowledge of history, is as if I've lived through quite a lot of it."

He laughed and Phileas felt like it was an inside joke, and a truth. Aro then turned to him, his smile a little different, and Phileas had to look away. "Perhaps, after dinner, I can take you on a tour of the library? You do seem to be a man who desires to learn of the world, I'm sure you'll... greatly enjoy what I have to offer."

Perhaps the villagers were right, there was a chance this could be a long night.

--

Don't worry, Abigail and Passepartout are fine, they were doing exactly as Aro had said.

Phileas, however, might not be as fine. Not when someone was looking into your memories while you talked about the wonders of air travel.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Griffin and Darcy headcanons?

I don't have many since most of their interactions take place off-screen both on the show and in my fics. Plus, Darcy doesn't know that Griffin is her mother and Griffin can't reveal the truth to her.

The planet that they come from - Erebhus - is where the golden eyes gene originated. Everyone who has Erebhusian genes has golden eyes, which means that Stella and Diaspro also have a small percentage Erebhusian genes in their DNA. However, Griffin and Darcy's half Erebhusian genetic makeup affects their hair color as well. Erebhus is a very sunny planet where even the nights are relatively bright. Due to the exposure to light most Erebhusians' hair tends to be in very light shades. However, as soon as they stop being exposed to so much sunlight, their hair color darkens. That's why Darcy and Griffin's hair colors can change drastically depending on where they're currently living and how much sunlight they're exposed to.

Griffin dreads the moment when other people will learn that she's Darcy's mother. Motherhood as a concept in society comes with a lot of baggage and she can already feel the judgment that will be hurled her way from people that have zero understanding of the situation that she was in. The thing that truly bothers her, however, is the fact that she herself hasn't really made her peace with what happened. Yes, she knew there was nothing else to do but she still holds resentment for herself for creating the situation in the first place. She doesn't really view herself as Darcy's mother since she didn't raise her. She just gave birth to her. And she's afraid of how Darcy will come to perceive the whole thing, especially if she hears other people's - uninformed - opinions. She doesn't want Darcy to suffer if she thinks that Griffin didn't want her.

Darcy is an extrovert to differ from Griffin, who is an introvert. It causes her to process her emotions in a different way, which in turn reflects on her magic and could sometimes make it hard for Griffin's teaching techniques to reach her. It shouldn't be a problem since many of Griffin's students are extroverts and she has had to develop different approaches of teaching to accommodate everyone. However, Darcy is very similar to her in other ways and, ironically, that makes the extrovert/introvert difference stick out way more and get in the way. Ediltrude and Zarathustra have a much easier time teaching Darcy than Griffin does sometimes.

That being said, Griffin's lessons were a life-saver for Darcy. (I have a feeling I'm repeating myself about this particular point so bear with me if that's the case.) Darcy finds it easier to push her magic out through her eyes at first but that quickly strains them and also gives her a headache. Griffin teaches her to minimize that effect by manipulating the tangibility of her own magic so that it has an easier time passing through the delicate tissues in her eyes and won't hurt her anymore. Plus, she helps her learn to channel her powers just as effectively through her hands.

Darcy prefers to be around living things even if those are animals. Her psychic magic only works on living organisms and she feels better when there are some animals or unsuspecting people around her that she could brainwash and weaponize in case she has to fight an enemy that is resistant to her psychic powers. Griffin's magic, on the other hand, works almost exclusively on non-living or dead things and she tries to develop Darcy's darkness powers more so that Darcy can rely on herself in battle. It has made Darcy feel like Griffin either dislikes her psychic powers because she thinks they're a weakness or that she's passing moral judgment for subjecting innocent organisms to mind control.

Darcy was thrilled when she came to study at CT because the castle was mostly wrapped in clouds and there was a lot of darkness even during the day. Growing up on Erebhus - one of the sunniest planets along with Solaria - with her powers was sometimes a challenge. There was way too much light and that made her powers weaker. CT's darkness not only boosts her magic, but also has a positive effect on her circadian rhythms. Griffin is glad that Darcy has finally found an environment where she could thrive but she thought it best when she had Darcy to leave her back on Erebhus because there her eye color wouldn't stick out. She was just another orphaned child and it was safest for her to be there since no one had a reason to believe that Griffin had had a baby. Plus, Griffin didn't know Darcy would develop powers of darkness back then.

[terrifictoonman]

[WP] "Ha, you stepped right into my trap!" the young witch cheered. "Now I'm going to ... to ... ... I actually have to clue what, you are my first ever human catch..." [Reddit - u/WernerderChamp] (12/12/23)

{Headache}

"Well, and I'm just spitballing here," says Ian, "you could just let me go?" The man hangs upside down over an open bonfire. A shadowy figure lurks just outside the fire's light, in the forest's dark, glaring at Ian with their bright green eyes.

"...No," says the witch.

"Heh, can't blame a guy for trying, right?" says Ian. The witch groans as a green rag flies out from the darkness, wrapping itself around Ian's mouth.

"You talk too much," says the witch. She paces around the edge of light, Ian catching the occasional glimpses of brown leather boots darting in and out of sight. "OK, what do humans do? They don't fly, no magical attunement one way or the other, they can't breathe underwater...for long at least." The witch's eyes look at Ian once again as an inhumanly long shadowy hand reaches out from the darkness, grabbing Ian and pulling him away from the fire. "You wouldn't happen to be hiding any horns or a second brain, perhaps?"

Ian spoke but remained incoherent due to the rag. With a quick flash from the witch's eyes, the rag suddenly turned to ash, causing Ian to cough.

"I mean," Ian chuckles, "depending on who you ask, my second brain's better than the one you're talking to." An animalistic growl hums from the forest. A pale human hand reaches out, its fingers stained in black, grabbing Ian by the mouth.

"Maybe I should take your tongue first," says the witch. "At the very least, it'll shut you up long enough for me to think!"

"Hey, you're the one who disintegrated the gag, not me," Ian mocked. "By the way, you have really soft hands." The shadow hand lets go of Ian, letting him swing over the roaring flame. "Oh, come on! You're about to kill me anyway. The least you can do is let me prattle on a bit until you figure out what to do with me."

"And why would I put myself through that?" the witch asks.

"Well, seeing as you live in the middle of nowhere," Ian says, "I'd probably make pretty entertaining company. Unless you're expecting someone else to stumble their way here?" The witch stares at Ian as a sudden gust of wind sends an intense shiver down the man's spine. The witch walks into the light, revealing herself as a short, lanky woman dressed in a stained brown hoodie over a torn purple dress. Her witch hat shielded her pale skin from the light, save for her long, crooked nose.

The witch traced a glowing ring into the air with her finger, flinging it at Ian. The ring went around Ian's neck before erupting in a blinding light. After regaining his senses, Ian quickly surveys his surroundings, finding himself under the witch's arm as the two move deeper into the forest. The witch notices Ian looking at her and holds his head up before her, putting the two at eye level.

Ian tries to free himself from the witch to no avail, unable to do little more than tilt his head slightly.

"Careful," the witch says, "you've been through a lot tonight. You might be feeling a little...lightheaded." The witch cackles maniacally into the air as Ian's face fills with dread, realizing what she has done to him. Ian's terrified screams pair with the witch's horrid laughter, the two echoing throughout the forest.

Before coming to a sudden stop as another gust of wind sends an intense chill through them both. The witch tucks Ian's head under her arm as she races through the forest back to her warm and cozy hut, Ian urging her to hurry every step of the way.

----------

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story!

If you have any comments, critiques, or corrections, please let me know down below (as long as they're constructive (or funny)).

Stay safe, keep warm, and be kind to yourself and others.

ToonMan, AWAY!

[lastheavens]

Home

Growing up the thought of leaving the home they grew up in is something that a lot of people look forward to, leaving means independence and the ability to forge your own path. Or it means getting away from the place that really isn't "home" to you. Sometimes you get so fixated on this idea of leaving that you really don't know how much you'll start to miss things. For me going far away for college was a fresh start, somewhere without my annoying little sister or nagging parents. I had the opportunities to try new things, make new friends. Now that I've been here for a few months though I'm so ready to go home. I wouldn't consider myself homesick but as my flight home rapidly approaches, I can't stop thinking about the little things back home. I miss the obvious things, my family, my pets, my nice big bed. Yet I also miss the simple things that most people would never think to miss.

First of all, I miss driving. God do I miss driving. I miss being able to just go wherever I want whenever I want. Sure I can do that at school but the furthest I can go is as far as the bus will take me or as far as I can walk. Back home I had places that I would go that I needed to drive to. Most of my places were malls. The mall by my sister's cheer gym that had absolutely nothing but it had an FYE which meant I could always find CDs for $5 if nothing else. The fancy mall with all the nice stores that you went to when you actually needed clothes. And finally the mall a few towns over from me that was pretty dead but had a newbury comics and a hot topic where everything was always on sale. I used to go to that hot topic so often I had memorized the line one cashier always said when ringing me up, "[deadname], like the American Girl Doll?" It made me cringe inside but it was an expectation every time I walked in those doors. In the same town as this mall was the target and the movie theater and my pediatricians office. The toy and hobby store my mom would take us to to see the giant model train track and buy brayer horses. In this town was my grandmother's house and towards the border of town was my brother's house and my favorite 50's style restaurant. It was my second hometown.

Second, I do miss my hometown. It's so cliche to say but I grew up in a small town where nearly everyone knew each other and it's so strange not to be there. I spent my whole life there. I watched that town grow and change, I hyperfixated on it's history when I was in the 4th grade. There was absolutely nothing in my hometown spare from a Big Y, a couple churches, and the library. I would go to Big Y so often during high school. They had the best paninis and sold delicious glass bottle soda. I made so much money returning bottles in the tiny little bottle room that you'd freeze to death in since the doors never closed. I am by no means religious despite my upbringing yet I miss my church. Maybe not how it is now since the priest I grew up knowing retired, but I miss how it was when I was growing up. Church picnics, volunteering, CCD and mass that I dreaded. Being so far away from home, I miss it. The former youth program director sends me cards at college and it makes me feel so appreciated that she's still reaching out to me halfway across the country. She's so incredibly sweet even if she did get on my nerves as a student of hers. I don't know if we'll go to Christmas mass due to the beef in our congregation but if we do I hope I get to see her. The last thing I miss back home is the library. It's small and cozy and it's where I grew up. I used to spend my summers reading and checking out movies. I was always one of the first people to complete their summer reading challenge. As I stopped having the time to read I stopped going and I miss it so much. I plan on going while I'm home for break and maybe picking up a few books to read during the week.

I just can't wait to go home. To go to all the places that I can't while I'm so far away, to see all the people who I haven't talked to in forever. I hate that in a technical sense, I'm not going home. I'm just visiting. It's just school break. I don't get to ever really go home again. At least not for the next several years. This year may be the last where I know for sure that I will be home for the summer. Growing up sucks but I know I need to. I just hope that I get to enjoy my time at home and learn to never take it for granted again.

Current song obsession:

[0thsense]

9/30/2023

When I'm feeling down, I am vigilant to find fault in others, because it makes me feel like I have something over them. A stupid act of desperation.

The time limit is approaching. I am not doing well. What does it mean to give up? I want to run myself to death.

Could I survive losing all of my family and friends? Should I prepare myself for it? It'll slowly happen at this pace. Was I wrong about things all those years ago? Maybe I should quicken the pace.

I can't open up to anyone. Noone will understand, and everyone will think they understand. Hell, some people probably think they understand already without me saying anything. Maybe the easiest way to be happy is to presume you understand about unhappiness you've never felt.

I wanted to understand my emotions. It might be too late, because now all I ever feel is anger and frustration. Base, useless, devastating emotions.

Some girl I used to know followed me on Strava the other day. Simply because she connected her account and auto followed all of her contacts. And I held onto that for the whole day. Pathetic.

Do I feel good when I beat myself up like this? Honestly it's a little cathartic but I'm not sure if it's healthy. I spend so much time thinking about the past, it fills every undistracted moment of my life. Will it ever stop?

So dramatic for someone who has lived such an objectively easy life. I don't really believe that, more just unsure. But everyone else would surely mock me for thinking I have such insane struggles in my circumstances. So I can't open up. They'll think I'm even more pathetic than they already do. A good way to get some one time pity and then having them slowly drift off. A bad way to quicken the pace.

Maybe I just need to get better at slapping on a smile and enthusiasm, so that it doesn't take so much effort every time. Just get good at it so it doesn't take all my energy, so I don't dread it every time. Just... become an automatic liar. Perfect.

I'm not looking forward to going to Japan soon. I'm worried my shell will break over those 2 weeks. Maybe I'm even more worried that it won't. Maybe I will just be boring because I'm getting tired having to put on enthusiasm all the time. Perfect.

My legs hurt from running today. Good. I wonder if how I feel right now is accurate. If I look back on this post it will probably read pretty terribly. Have I made no progress? Perfect timing to be depressed again for the holiday season. Last time I showed up one time and they thought I was fine. Because I guess I'm good at faking enthusiasm. Fuck you.

If I think rationally about it, it's my fault. It's hard to tell when someone's depressed, and it's even harder when I've been putting on masks for my whole life. But I can't tell them either. Probably the worst cases of depression are the ones where they have noone to tell. Because they can't trust anybody to care enough. I'm doing fine everyone.

God and I hate it even more because I become so self absorbed. Making me lose one of the few things I prided myself on: empathy and thinking of others. And I kept that pride even though it became unjustified. It hurts.

Maybe I can try to think of others in this post. Harley decided she wants to move back home, because of RTO. I wonder how she feels about that. I wonder if I chose that just because it's semi relevant to me. My dad might also be kinda depressed, I'm kinda worried. Probably partly due to me.

God, I can't think of much when I try to remember caring about others recently. You don't just feel worse, you become worse. Please let me care for others again. I am an asshole. I'm not willing to sacrifice myself to help others. I find something in them to condemn and justify this. Nobody helped Jerry, and everyone sure loves beating down on him.

Endroll was a nice game.

[attenaeus]

hi

i haven't been on here in a bit.

grief is an interesting experience, and not one i expected to have to go through recently. i guess that's pretty typical of grief, it often comes when you least expect it - but i can't help but feel jealous of people who could prepare to grieve. people who had the process of understanding they were going to go.

my childhood cat passed away nearly two months ago now. it was incredibly unexpected, and incredibly traumatic. i haven't been able to drive a car since it happened. this has been my first full month without my rock, without my best friend, without the one constant in my life that always left me feeling better.

in those first days, the world was moving so fast and mine had stopped. everything was spinning and i was dizzy, waiting to catch up to the movement but it kept getting faster and faster and faster as the grief hit. it came in waves, but the waves weren't as far apart as i maybe expected. they were lots of little waves, never really properly receding. leaving a mark where they were, new ones coming to move the mark further up the shore within hours; sometimes minutes.

the first week was hard. the second week somehow hit the hardest. i was still busy. i had university, i had rehearsals for plays, i had assignments and things to do. but i didn't have him to do it with. i didn't have him to come home to. and it felt like i was betraying him to come home feeling okay, to spend my days without noticing the gaping hole in my chest. like i was leaving him behind, when all i wanted to do was wrap him in my arms and protect him from any harm. to carry him with me like a little security blanket made of yowls and pissed off glares. my little angry man, with me forever.

but he was gone. and i was still here. and it felt wrong.

my brain had turned to a fuzzy cloud of yarn and pain and tears, and of a hard center that i couldn't access no matter how much i tried. i couldn't remember things i normally would be able to. learning lines from my plays felt like an insurmountable feat, one that would normally come to me with relative ease. everything would hit the fuzz and slide off of it, leaving a small remnant but mostly just disturbing the blur.

i woke up this morning convinced that i hadn't handed in an assignment due a month ago. it was coming up to the one month anniversary when it was due, and i barely remember any of that week. i can't remember actually submitting the assignment, i just know i did.

it's been nearly two months now. i still can't believe it's been that long.

somehow, life feels worth living again.

it doesn't feel easy. it doesn't feel any less lonely without him. but it doesn't feel hopeless.

one of my plays came together incredibly well. last week my life became that show, and the people involved. my life became showing up to the theatre, having my dinner and complaining about how tired i was, doing my makeup and dancing to whatever song we chose for warm up that day, and then going on stage and watching a friend make out with a skeleton on stage.

then we'd go to maccas until midnight, and i'd get a lift home with a different friend and we'd make each other laugh until we cried over a playlist of shitty songs to have sex to, and suddenly life felt worth living again. i found myself wanting to show up to the play instead of dreading interacting with people because life was so much, i found myself volunteering to get involved in more and more. now i'm working front of house for a different show at a different company, i'm preparing to put on a play night, and i'm not thinking about how much i wish he was here to do it with me.

i still do, of course. i watched good omens recently (i am suitably Not Ok over it), and every single time something happened i would turn to find him, and be hit with the loss. i'd just recently gotten into the habit of talking at him like he understood me when i just needed to lose my mind over something. it felt like that had been ripped from me right as i got used to it. that and doctor who are the first shows i've watched and gotten invested in without him by my side, and somehow that feels lonely.

it helps that i have friends who are invested. friends that i can talk to about things. but that's where the hole feels the biggest right now. that, and when i'm having a mental health episode and he's not there to ground me. two instances, both wildly different but both feeling so important to me.

i may have figured out that the meaning of life is to do stupid shit with your friends at midnight, and to lose all sense of shame when you strip backstage because you've got to go on for the next scene and fuck it i gotta get this costume on, and to spam people with keyboard smashes when you're watching two lovesick idiots fuck everything up on tv, but for the longest time my meaning of life was him.

learning to live without him didn't feel like something i could do. and i'm almost grieving that i've been able to do it.

[gnattyplayssims]

1943 Pt2 - Finding Sofia

The day every military wife dreads came one day in late summer. "Lucian what a lovely surprise. Can I get you some tea"

"No thank you, I'm not here long. I'm on my way back to Henford but I wanted to be the one to tell you."

He hesitated and Kailee's heart sank.

Kailee steeled herself and reached out a hand to encourage him. "I can handle it."

"I'm sure you know that Knox, William and Kye were all in the same squad. Well the squads MIA. Best case scenerio they're prisoner's of war. Worst case..."

"I understand. Thank you Lucian."

A shroud fell over Pigulock Manor after the news came. Each of the women coped in their own ways. Kailee threw herself harder into the community space, Lizbeth barely came out of her room and Anabelle threw herself into caring for the kids and drank herself to sleep every night.

Kailee found Anabelle in a drunken state one night, crying over a letter from Kye. "He asked me to marry him you know."

"What?"

"Yeah, in that letter you're holding. He said when he came home he wanted to make an honest woman out of me. I never gave him an answer."

"Why not?"

"It just never seemed like an option for us. I can't say yes when I can barely look at myself in the mirror."

"I think you need to find her. You need to stop thinking about how Kye would react and do this for yourself. I think I know someone who can help."

After a few weeks of Kailee exchanging letters with a contact in Henford, she and Anabelle set up a meeting at the remodeled community center. They even managed to drag Lizbeth out of her room for the afternoon though they both quickly regretted it as she was hardly good company.

"Okay kids, you know the rules. Stay within the fenced area, no running, indoor voices and be respectful of those around you."

Once in Kailee's apartment Lizzie let out a long sigh, "I still can't believe you kept this fridge."

"It's functional and we had to make due."

Once the ladies had freshened up Kailee brought them down to the Green Room which she had reserved to meet her contact.

"You've really transformed this place Kailee. I barely even recognize it."

There was a sad hopeful note to her voice "Knox will love it...when he comes home."

Soon Jonathan Noble arrived and Anabelle was left to their dealings. "So you're Anabelle. Pardon my saying so, you are much prettier than my mother-in-law made you sound."

"Ha, well Esther is the jealous type from what I hear."

"Mm yes, Gilbert's perfect match."

Jonathan chuckled and leaned forward "But enough of the family small talk. I hear you're looking for someone"

"Yes. My daughter"

"Kailee tells me the orphanage closed a few months ago"

Anabelle shifted nervously. "Yes"

"Hmm that makes things more difficult but not impossible"

Anabelle took a nervous drink of nectar. "I don't know what help I can give."

"Oh don't worry. I already have everything I need. But I do have an important question."

"What's that?"

"What do you wish me to do when I find her."

Anabelle let out a breath "Bring her home."

"Well?"

"He says he'll find her."

"Then he will. Jonathan married into the Hough Family. They're bad blood. That woman is Rowan Holliday, the lover of Kinley's brother Gabriel whose in jail now for assult. They'll find her and it's best not to question how they plan to do it"

"Did the family give you any trouble?"

"Are you kidding me? They practically begged me to take her off their hands and that was before they saw the bag of 'gems'."

"Ah I wish I could see their faces when they realize they're useless. And the girl?"

"Didn't even shed a tear."

Sofia looked up at the pretty woman standing before her. The woman dropped to her knees in front of her taking her hand. "You're all grown up now." Anabelle's voice shook as she looked into her daughters green eyes. "I'm so sorry I missed it."

Sofia didn't say anything.

Sofia remained quiet throughout the entire ferry ride. She finally spoke when they arrived at Pigulock Manor.

"You live here?" Her voice was barely a squeek as she realized how close she had been to coming with Nikolas so many times.

"Yes, Sofia. This is your new home."

David had come a few months before to assist with the children and be by Lizbeth's side. Stefan hid nervously behind him as Anabelle and Sofia entered. "It's okay son, remember what I said, just give her a chance."

Sofia looked up at Anabelle nerviously, "Is that...my brother?"

David gave Stefan a small nudge. Anger filled him as he looked at Sofia. "NO! I hate this! You can't be my sister, I don't have a twin!"

"Stefan wait!"

"Let him go, Anabelle. He has every right to be angry. You'll only make it worse if you try to take that from him."

David smiled at Sofia. "Now, I for one would like to meet my granddaughter."

Sofia let him hug her and for the first time she smiled.

Stefan balled his hands into fists. Mother had betrayed him. Lied to him. Hidden a part of him. Chose favorites. He hated her for it.

Later that evening, David was helping Anabelle clean up dinner. "William really did well for himself keeping this place. I'm sure you'll be able to get the Mizrahi Estate looking as nice."

"We won't be moving to Henford."

"Oh?"

"My home is here and Kye would agree."

David sat at the island with a chuckle. "Elena predicted as much. She said you'd left something here"

"She knew?"

"I don't think she knew exactly but she was the one who told me to send you away to find closure. Now it's time you decide what you truly want. With or without Kye"

1944 Pt1 - The First Keepsake

[myaquariusheart]

17/4

So, I was late to Uni today, missing the Inclusion presentations, and who didn't see that one coming. Honestly, I have no excuse, even though I had an eye-opening realization yesterday this just proves to me it's going to take a long time and some real drive and determination in order for me to be able to wake up on time, stop oversleeping and actually be on time for once. It was the first day of Uni today and it was somewhat interesting and the start of new beginnings and the end of some things too. I saw old friends, and I saw J and T. I thought J was being a bit cold to me but I still haven't figured out if that's just how she is. T was super friendly and kind to me which kinda put me in a better mood. I also had a meeting about my dissertation today. It was really long overdue and also stressful. I've been waffling too much in my work and not being clear about my aims and objectives, so that means I'm going to have to carefully read over my work again and create a new question. ALL THIS and the 9th of May is getting closer and closer and I'm honestly having an internal panic attack. I need to just focus and think about what's really important here but also not overwork myself or the work is not going to be good, just rushed and not thought about properly. Next week is the presentation and Philosophy is also due. They're both complete but just need some improvements and a read-through. I need to include references on both which is going to be challenging because I have no idea where to get them from. I've brushed and got ready for bed but I also feel like I didn't do all that I could have today, I still need to read, watch some JoJo and also think about what I even want to do tomorrow. I need to wake up early and take Alv to school, then come home, have a shower, and get to Uni on time. I had iftar plans but I think I'm going to cancel them and just come home, I do have work on Wednesday which is such an early start and I am dreading it. I also saw S today which was probably the highlight, only because I didn't think I was going to see them. I was definitely speaking that interaction into existence because there was literally no chance of me seeing them, I haven't seen them since OCTOBER 2022. It's been almost 6 months now, and wow time has really flown by. I'm going to graduate and get out of that place and say goodbye to all my Uni memories. I'll defo be bored and miss everyone in that place but can't wait to say bye to the drama. I'm feeling a little excited now and hopeful, like Tiffany Ray said, 'Rome wasn't built in a day' and there's always room for improvement and change. Tomorrow could be that day who knows? Mum is also having a meeting with Z's school and I just hope it goes well, usually, I'm the one going to these things but I think it's best now that Mum goes because it seems like I'm not as effective when I go to these things. I think at the parent's meeting we literally met one teacher and we called it a day, but it does make me feel excited for when I go to my own children's parent meetings. Anyway a bit off-topic here I watched the Love Is Blind reunion and everyone online was saying that it was underwhelming and a bit shit. Ngl I actually enjoyed it and thought it could be as juicy as it could be. I'm glad Irina got thrown under the bus, not to hate on her but she was a bit horrible and I'm glad everyone watched it unfold. I also felt sorry for Marshall, and Zak. Zak's singing was sweet but it was hard to hear but honestly, Bliss is one lucky girl, no man has ever sung for me and at this point, I'm dying for someone to write a rap about me. That would be a dream come true. I think that's when a man is truly in love because what kind of man does that?! Someone who is so in their feelings and is sensitive and not afraid to share how they feel. So you go Bliss and Zak. With Love Island and Love is Blind all finished I don't know what love show I'm going to watch and keep me occupied. With my love life going down the drain I just want to watch other people be in love and happy.