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#I am just constantly mourning everyone in my life and I don’t know how to stop it

gay-dorito-dust · 14 days

Note

can you make HSR male character with a dead reader (I LOVE ANGST, I LIVE FOR ANGST).

for the characters, it's up to you, but if possible, please include Blade and Jing Yuan (if this topic makes you uncomfortable, don't do it)

Sorry for getting to this after so long and if it was shit.

Jing yuan:

It had been a while since your passing and everyone had seemingly forgotten your name and the fact that you had once lived amongst them.

However Jing Yuan didn’t, he refused to let himself forget the hold you once had over on his heart, mind and soul, or how your actions touching him in ways that he didn’t think were possible.

Life had lost its colour and appeal the moment you died and Jing Yuan had no need to feel excitement for things that he did before with you by his side.

The stars looked dull as though they were mourning you alongside him, the flowers you once given him didn’t smell as fragrant nor looked as healthy as they should’ve. Even the street food stalls didn’t seem at all appetising when you weren’t here to practically salivate over, and or give him the biggest pair of pleading puppy eyes over that never failed to elicit a chuckle out of him.

He stayed inside more often than not as everything outside might as well have been casted in black and white to Jing Yuan, with the only remnants being at your grave of which he often found himself sat in front of.

‘You once asks me what my biggest regret would be and I told you that I don’t live life with regrets, which was a lie and you knew it but didn’t speak up about it, whether it was out of respect or otherwise I’ll never know…not now at least.’ He says with a forced smile, the pain within his chest growing ever greater the more he relived your loss. ‘I am burdened with many regrets. Many of which that have threatened to squash with their weight, but loosing you will be my ultimate regret as with you I was starting to believe in forever in this life once more…only for forever to die with you.’ He concludes as he presses his forehead to your headstone and closed his eyes in hopes of feeling your warmth once more.

But all he felt was the cold, unforgiving and hard surface of your headstone as a tear fell from his eye at the reality that all aspects of you were truly gone forever…

Blade:

Your death was a tragedy Blade couldn’t forget.

It was engraved into every corner of his mind where it was made impossible for him to forget.

Even in his torturous dreams he was forced to watch you die in front of his eyes constantly and in the most horrific ways possible, all the while he remained helpless to stop any of it from happening.

Any remnant of you was clutched tightly in his hand under it bled from his nails digging into his skin, but he couldn’t feel it for he had grown numb. He’d even tie a piece of cloth from your clothes to the hilt of his sword or his finger in order to feel you with him wherever he went.

Just like you always wanted.

Blade couldn’t fully dedicate himself to being your partner but he was more than selfish with your attention and affection. He wanted it all. No, he needed it all for himself and gave you nothing much in exchange other than letting you hold onto him and kiss his scars.

He did love you in his own way and was building himself up to actually be your partner properly, only for you to die selflessly in his arms, whispering that’d you loved him before passing on from your wounds.

Blade thought he should’ve been use to death by now but your death hit him in a way that left him desiring death more than normal, in hopes that he could reunite with you and correct his wrong doings when you were alive.

Now and then in moments where Blade was faced with death, he could feel a presence next to him that felt soft, warm and felt very much like the you he was forced to remember…

240 notes · View notes

cryptictongues · 3 months

Text

184 Days

pairing: Clive Rosfield x Flower!Reader Series rating: Mature (angst; tw listed below) word count: 13.6K summary: You have a hard time grieving after Clive's passing, even when you didn't need to grieve at all.

warnings: reader-insert (sorry lol), angst, hurt/comfort, reunions, grief/mourning, slight suicidal ideation, slight self-harm, depression, panic attacks, happy ending (yay!) - this is part of the Flower!Reader series! You don't need to have read the other two but there are references to them if that interests you.

Spoilers: This is post-game stuff. If you haven't played the game, beware.

TW's: This fic contains major themes of grief, so it is heavy. There is minor suicidal ideation and self-harm, not graphic in nature, but it is there. Depression and panic attacks are more common in this fic. If these topics don't sit right with you, please be cautious when reading. You may also reach out if you want to know specifics if you are worried!

Songs: I just want to share that I was constantly listening to When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, Thick Skull by Paramore, and Wicked Games by Chris Isaak.

LASTLY, I am sharing this on my birthday! My birthday gift to you all <3

[AO3 link]

Day 1

The Hideaway is full of people. People from all over Valisthea arrive in droves, coming to grant supplies, donate gil, and help around the Hideaway because today is the day; the day everyone here sends off Dion, Joshua, and Clive for their leave to Origin.

You are working overtime, helping with the final preparations before they take off. The biggest reason, however, for the hard work is the ever creeping anxiety filling your body as the time ticks closer to Clive’s departure; from his friends and family, and from you. This day has been a long time coming, yet now that it’s here you can barely stomach the thought of him leaving. With that thought lingering, every moment together has been even more precious than the next.

Every moment of free time has been spent together. With today being the day of departure, your last moments together were last night. You both made love all night, and in between sessions would talk about what you two will do once he comes back; creating the life of your dreams together. Yet, in the back of your mind, all you could think was those thoughts were just that: dreams. You don’t know what will happen during Clive’s mission. But it’s fun to play pretend, and to envision what life could have in store for the two of you.

The sun was in its golden state before its colors showed, telling you it’s almost time. You see everyone gathering on the main deck, Clive and co included, talking with one another as they say their farewells and safe travels. You start your way there, walking slowly as if it would prevent the inevitable. You know the moment you reach Clive, it would only be a matter of minutes before he is no longer within your grasp.

You see Clive talking to Jill, bringing her in for a tight hug as he continues. You see a shake in her shoulders, telling you she feels the same way you do. Just as hard as it is to wish your lover away, it must be just as hard to watch the man who has become a brother figure leave. They grew up together, after all.

You give a farewell to Prince Dion and Joshua once on the deck, giving Dion a firm handshake and a bow, while Joshua brings you in for a hug. You didn’t know Dion for long, but Joshua is a different story. Getting to know your lover’s brother has brought you closer to the both of them. Seeing how happy Clive was with Joshua around made your heart swell. You wonder if Joshua ever felt the same about you two.

Joshua let’s go of you, a melancholy smile drawn on his face. “Thank you, _____. Thank you for taking care of my brother.”

You shake your head. “No, thank you for finding each other again. I will be praying for the three of you to safely return to us.”

“I appreciate that, my lady.” Joshua thanks, yet his eyes shift, and he nods. “Here he comes.”

You turn to see Clive approaching you, and you already feel your chest growing tight and eyes water. He is standing before you, looking as beautiful as he always has, but with a sorrowful look that says everything you feel. It’s unfair, really. It devastates you that he is the one to stop all the madness, when in a perfect world he would stay. You keep telling yourself this isn’t the end, yet your gut keeps telling you otherwise.

“____.”

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay? To ask to let the world go to hell?”

Clive smiles, solemnly chuckling at your suggestions. “Never.”

You reach for his left hand with both hands, holding it as you rub your thumbs into his palm. “I know it would be futile, all the same.” You utter. “There would be no life worth living for anyone. I just wish things could be different.”

“I am doing this for a better future for everyone. It is what the world deserves.” Clive’s other hand covers your hands in full. “I must do this, so you and I can live the future we’ve always talked about.”

“I wish I could take your place, so I could guarantee your safety.” You choke out, the waterworks starting.

Clive is quick to react, pulling you into him as you sob softly into his chest. “Knowing you will be safe here will be reason enough for me to make it back to you.” Your hands squeeze his sides, his statement making you want to sob harder. Clive pulls back, taking one hand to lift your head to get a good look at you. “I promise I will be back. Wait for me.”

You nod frantically, sniffling as you take deep breaths to calm down. Clive’s forehead leans against yours, his thumb brushing continuous strokes on your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You accept his kiss, giving it your all knowing the outcome is unknown. Both of your lips linger, not wanting to pull away because once one of you does, he will be on his way.

Clive pulls away slightly, his lips still lingering near your own. “I love you, ____.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, placing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I have something for you.”

You reach into the pouch you keep attached to your corset belt and pull out a lily. You thread the stem in between the crease of his corset and tunic, the tightness of his uniform keeping the flower in place. You brush his chest, stalling him a little longer before you accept it is time. “Lily represents reunion. With this flower, you shall come back to me.”

Clive sucks in a breath, releasing with a shutter as if he was on the verge of tears. “I will, no matter what.”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Jill still sniffling with watery eyes. She smiles at you before looking at Clive. “We will take care of each other.”

You feel something rub against your thigh and look to see Torgal rubbing his head on you. You smile, rubbing behind his ears. “Torgal will look out for us too.”

Clive hums, appreciating the sight before him. “This is farewell for now. Till then, we have a god to kill.”

Everyone has now formed a semi-circle around the three dominants about to depart, watching as they walk towards the end of the deck. They pick up their pace, all of them running until they are no longer in sight. A bright light goes off and the next thing everyone sees is Bahamut carrying Clive and Joshua towards an event that will shape the world.

You are sitting on the main deck, legs dangling off the side as you continue to stare off into the horizon. You haven’t left since Clive left, the golden hour long gone and twilight having come and gone, dusk now settling in the sky. It feels like it has been hours since his departure, when in reality it has only been a few. You wonder if they have made it to Origin yet, if the battle has started, if Ultima has been defeated… if they have met their maker for good. That thought makes you shiver.

You hear footsteps coming from behind you before a presence sits right beside you. You don’t look, but the aura alone tells you it’s Jill and you smile slightly. She puts an arm around you, pulling you into her as you both continue to look into the distance, like they would be back any second. She twists your hair, which comforts you in a way, and you hum. It is silent for a while, watching the sky continue to grow darker and darker until the sky is black with its pearls.

“Have you prayed to Metia today?” You break the silence with a question. Jill’s fixation that Metia answers prayers is comforting in these moments, especially when every prayer she has spoken through her heart has come true.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but only because I wanted you to join me. Our hearts combined will help, no doubt.”

You nod your head, and you both move into a position that faces Metia herself, kneeling before her with hands clasped together. You bow your head, and say your prayer in your head, letting your heart translate it in a way that only Metia understands. You pray for everyone’s safe return with little to no injury. You pray they come back healthy and happy. You pray for the dawn of a new age where you and Clive help build a world you two can grow old in. You pray for everything to be okay. You raise your head as you finish, and you admit that some weight has been lifted off your chest, but an uneasiness still sticks. You turn your head to see Jill finishing her own prayer, and she looks towards you with her hand reaching for yours. You give her your right hand and she grips it with a smile. “Metia has listened to our prayers. Now, we wait.”

“Jill, your faith that everything will be okay is admirable. I wish I had your confidence.” You confess, the sour feeling remaining deep in your body.

“For the longest time, I thought Clive was long dead. I believed that Metia hadn’t listened. And next thing I know, there he is. Granted, it was years later.” She squeezes your hand, and turns so your knees are touching hers. “That’s why I have faith that they will return to us.”

“Maybe your faith will rub off on me, and not the other way around with my worries.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the night.

“No matter what happens,” Jill reassures, “I will be here for you. We will be here for each other.”

You nod, and bring her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly which she returns. “Thank you, Jill. For everything.”

You both stay there for a minute, until next thing you know you hear running on the deck. You pull away to see Gav running towards you two, panic clear on his face. “Ah fuck,” he breathes in and out as he approaches. “Edda is in labor. All hands on deck.”

You and Jill gasp in unison, both jumping up to run to the infirmary to help bring new life into this world. And hopefully, a new one.

Day 2

“Alright, one more push, Edda.”

You are sitting behind Edda, letting her use your hands for her death grip as she continuously pushes and wails out in pain. You, Jill, and Mid are giving her words of encouragement as she continues her labor, and after one final push Tarja fully delivers the baby. A cry echoes throughout the room and the atmosphere is full of happiness and relief.

“Can I come in yet?” You hear Gav yell from the other side of the door.

“She just gave birth, Gav. Give us a minute.” Tarja yells, eyes rolling hard at Gav’s common sense.

“He’s just excited,” Jill chimes in. “As we all are.”

“Congratulations, Edda! It’s a boy!” Tarja finishes cleaning off the baby, kneeling beside Edda as she passes him off to her. You watch Edda admire her baby boy for the first time, her smile brightening up the room as she talks to him.

Seeing them interact stirs you with an emotion you wish to experience directly. You and Clive have talked about having children, making it clear you two wouldn’t have any until the world has been set straight. But you two would talk about what it would be like to have a little you or a little him running around or both. You imagine cradling a little boy in your arms, giggling as you shower him with kisses. You imagine Clive holding a little girl, swaying her around while singing a melody. Two giggly children to call your own with the man you have fallen madly in love with. You feel as if your heart could burst from the thought.

“_____, can you go up to the rear stacks to grab more towels off the lines?” Mid asks, taking you out of your sappy daydreams. You snap out of it, humming in the affirmative before moving away from Edda and heading to the door. You could barely get out the door before almost being trampled by Gav, running in like a mad man. “Let me see! Let me see!”

You chuckle to yourself, exiting the room and heading to the linen lines. Even when things seem dark, you can’t help but keep smiling at everyone’s high spirits tonight. You suppose new life being brought into the world will do that to people because it sure as hell is doing that for you. It’s a good distraction, and you accept it with open arms.

You grab some towels from the line, cradling them in your arms securely as you make your descent to the main deck and up the stairs to the infirmary. You reach the infirmary doors when you are once again almost hit by a body, except this time it was Jill. One quick look at her made it apparent she was crying. She doesn’t spare you a glance as she runs down the stairs, sobs fading as she goes further down. You turn to the open door, shock clear on your face. “What happened?”

Gav and Mid look at you like they don’t know what to say. You look at Gav, tears streaming down his face, and it’s like everything hits you all at once. Towels drop from your arms, your arms no longer working as your body starts to erupt. “No,” you shudder. “No.” You kept repeating yourself, not quite believing what’s happening. No words spoken, and yet everyone is saying your worst nightmare out loud.

You could see Gav wanted to say something, but before a word could break the glass box you were building around yourself, you ran. You ran right out the door, and ran as fast as you could to Clive’s chambers. You slam the door shut, starting to pace back and forth with your fists yanking your hair. You turn to the balcony doors, and run to them, slamming them wide open before looking out into the distance. You see the moon, as bright and big as ever, yet Metia no longer shines in its vibrancy. You hear a howl and see Torgal and Jill, Jill’s head tilted down as her body continues to shake. Jill’s connection with Metia was enough to tell you that something terrible has happened: Clive is dead.

You back away from the door, utter disbelief and pain seeping into your lungs. He promised. He promised he would return to me. Your mind keeps reeling, and next thing you know you find yourself in Clive’s bed, wrapping yourself in his covers tightly to encapsulate his lingering scent. Sobs devastate your body, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. But you embraced it, for you wish you could stop breathing all together in this moment.

You fall asleep with choked up airways and puffy eyes, dreams full of a future that’s no longer possible. You dream of him and him alone. You fall asleep in the dead of night, missing the sun greet Valisthea into a new era.

Day 5

Clive would’ve thought he was dead if it weren’t for the loud thumping in his head. He slowly comes to, the first thing he sees being light. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, his eyes working overtime against the strain. He feels sand, and hears the sound of waves. He goes to move his fingers when he notices he can’t move the ones on his left hand. He brings his left arm to his view and sees his hand is completely petrified. He couldn’t see the rest of his arm, but could feel the lack of blood and flesh ending right above his elbow. He pushes himself up with his good arm, hunching over in his spot as he breathes the salty air deeply.

Origin. He had defeated Ultima. The crystal in the sky was destroyed and now he finds himself here on this beach. Based on his surroundings, he concludes he is on the coast of Storm, even though the dark coast was no longer dark, but bright. It could have easily been mistaken for a coastline off of Valisthea, but behind him were still the dead brush of the continent.

He wonders how long he’s been out for. He vaguely remembers waking up, but not long enough to recollect anything. He reaches up to his face to touch his facial hair, feeling the scruff that has grown out slightly. A few days, he thinks. It was a mere few days ago when he left the Hideaway with Dion and his brother, and now he is the only one left. It burns him up inside knowing he couldn’t save them, and the fact he watched his brother die not once, but twice weighs heavy on his heart. Especially because if Ultima hadn’t chosen him as his vessel, he most likely would have become the Phoenix and Joshua would be alive and safe. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but alas.

Clive knows it does no good to think this way. Just like he would have done anything to save Joshua, he knows just as well Joshua would’ve done everything to save him. He knew Joshua would want him to help bring Valisthea and Storm into a new age. And most importantly, he knew Joshua wanted him to be happy, and deserved as much. I cannot delve into what was, but what can. And what he can focus on is the future, especially one with you.

Clive suddenly remembers the lily you had given him, and scrambles to retrieve it from his pant pouch with some difficulty due to one available hand. He felt its petals, still smooth and soft, and pulled it out to see it still looked brand new. He lets out a stuttered breath, eyes watering slightly. He almost couldn’t believe that after everything it had managed to stay in one piece, but he knew it was because you had blessed him with it. You had grown it, cared for it, and plucked it for him, and it was his turn to care for it. Just as well, it was time to keep his promise: to come back to you. He has been away for too long, and he must make haste now.

Clive sighs and slowly starts to stand up, gathering his bearings so as to not get too dizzy. He stands still for a moment, breathing in deeply once more to ensure he won’t collapse before assessing his situation. He will need a boat. He thinks he could find a port somewhere, and worse comes to worse he travels to Waloed to get one there. He will need to eat something to gain some semblance of energy to do said travel. The biggest obstacle for him will be his arm, a heavy weight on his body that doesn’t help his fatigue. He will have to find something to make it more manageable until he can get back to the Hideaway.

He starts to walk up the beach towards the woods; body heavy from his wet clothes, stone arm, and tired eyes. But he will move forward, for you are waiting back home for him and his safe return. No matter the cost, he will make it home to you.

“Darling, wait for me. I’m coming home.”

Day 14

It has been two weeks since the end of Origin, and to say you haven’t been grieving well is an understatement. You have a hard time getting out of bed these days, and your motivation to do anything is abysmal. You know your numbness is unsettling to other Hideaway members, many not knowing what to say when they see you. It’s like they saw you change overnight; your happy, go lucky self now tainted with expressionless reactions.

Gav has officially transitioned as the new Cid, but has yet to move into what will be his new room. He only comes in to do some paperwork, and read his latest messages. Oftentimes he will come to you, asking if he can get you anything, and he gets the same response from you every time: a subtle shake of your head. You are grateful that he lets you stay here as the smell of Clive’s sheets is the only thing keeping you from breaking all together.

You had forced yourself out of bed today to go to the Backyard. You sat beside the flower bed, staring at the flowers hoping for something to happen. Flowers were your comfort for a long time, and now it is like they have no effect at all. You look at the lilies that are off to the side, and all you can do is scoff. Reunion my foot.

You hear footsteps and paws coming down the stairs. You know it is Torgal and Jill, especially when Torgal has been stuck to Jill’s side for the last two weeks. You can’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be around you either.

“You came to pay the flowers a visit. They’ve missed you.”

“They aren’t very good at showing it.” You shrug. You have been here for a few hours, and your mood hasn’t changed. You feel empty.

“Hortense is holding a sewing class for some new arrivals. You should come and say hi.” Jill says gently, not wanting to make your mood shift further south.

Deep down, you know you’ve let Jill down. You had promised to be there for her like she had with you, yet your own self pity refuses to acknowledge your lack of empathy. The demon residing in your brain just tells you that no one understands. It doesn’t matter if everyone is grieving about the three’s passing; your happy ending relied on your lover coming back to you. Everyone else can move on, keeping him in their memory. You can’t because a part of you is now dead with him.

You move to stand up, not wanting to bring her down with you. “They won’t want to see me. I’ll just make a fool out of myself.”

You move to head upstairs when Torgal blocks your walking route, and Jill gets in front of you. She grabs your shoulders, looking at you intently. You can see she is trying hard not to break in front of you, making that deep part of you scream to get over yourself. “Please, _____. You are an important asset to the Hideaway; the Jack of all Trades. I know they would love to meet you. The more kind people like you they meet, the more comfortable they will be here.”

Even since the end of Origin, new arrivals have continued to come in, many wanting to help with the cause. Even though bearers no longer have the power of magicks, it has led to more violence against those with the mark. This has led to everyone working more tirelessly to make strides for a future with new hope reinstated. You have yet to meet many of them, the motivation to do so never in your favor.

“Clive would want you to continue his legacy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how his legacy has taken him away from you. You know your way of thinking is irrational, but the rational part of you is a mountain ready to avalanche. With the last bit you have, you take a deep breath, knowing she is right. He would want you to continue living, even without him.

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll meet them. I can’t promise I’ll come off as kind. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength.”

Jill smiles, brushing hair from your face. “All I ask is that you try. We miss you.”

You three ascend the stairs, Jill locking arms with you as if you’d run away. You make it to the main deck, seeing Hortense and a few new faces sitting in a circle. Hortense waves, signaling you three to join in. “_____, it is so good for you to join us!”

“It’s, um, great to be here.” You say, trying to come off as happy.

You, Jill, and Torgal join the circle, quick introductions being passed around before Hortense starts her lesson. She is doing a lesson on basic sewing techniques using cross-stitching circles, showing everyone different patterns, styles, and methods for different types of fabrics. One of the new arrivals, Greta you remember her name being, was looking at your stitching constantly. You turn to look at her, and she quickly turns away. You look at her work, and you can tell she is struggling a little bit.

“Hey,” you say slightly above a whisper. “Try this.”

You show her a trick when it comes to tightening the thread, making it so it won’t want to fall apart. “Okay, now you try.”

Greta follows your method to a T, going slowly as she does it from memory. She smiles, seeing how well it worked. “That’s genius! Thank you so much!”

You nod, going back to your own work with a subtle smile on your face. You remember when you first learned how to sew, and how difficult it was for you. You remember when you had to learn on your own, Hortense having too much on her plate. You forgot how good it was to help others, and even if this feeling is for a moment, you feel lighter. You face Jill to see her glancing at you, a grin on her face as she continues messing with her circle of fabric. You know she is punching the air in success in her mind right now.

The session lasts for roughly an hour, and Hortense puts it to a close. “I’ll hold another class next week. Feel free to practice in the meantime.”

‘Yes ma'am’ is said in unison, and everyone departs to get ready for supper. You and Jill stay behind, helping Hortense put stuff away and create small chatter. As you all finish up, you pull Jill aside, feeling the need to say something. “Jill, I want to thank you. But most importantly, I want to apologize for not being there for you as well. I promise to do better by you.”

“Oh, _____,” Jill coos, bringing you in for a hug. “It’s okay. I understand your pain. We will get through this.”

You two continue like this, and all you can think is maybe this is a new start. Maybe you can start grieving in a better way than you have been. You know it won’t happen overnight, but after days of feeling like you’ve been dragged into a hole, you sense you can see the light.

Someone is yelling from afar, and you pull back to see a woman walking quickly to Hortense, a basket of what looks to be freshly clean linens in her hands. You and Jill walk over to see the commotion, only to see another new face. Hortense motions you two over, grinning from ear to ear with the woman beside her. “Ah, _____! I don’t think the two of you have met. This is Willow. She’s been helping me a lot with many of the laundry duties.”

“Oh Lady _____, it is so lovely to meet you.” Willow says, bowing her head slightly. “Also, lovely to see you again Lady Jill.”

You bow slightly, not used to such formalities towards yourself. Jill chimes in, glee in her tone. “You as well. Thank you for helping Hortense during this time. I know she surely appreciates it.”

“Of course!” Willow chirps. “I was coming over here to tell her the linens for the beds are done. Lady ____, I was able to clean your sheets as well so you will have a freshly made bed for tonight.”

You stop breathing, your ears deceiving you. “W-what?”

Willow was still smiling, not catching on to the atmospheric shift. “Your sheets! Hortense got me to get all the bed linens for a wash, but I went ahead and had your bed made as a good gesture.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your vision is starting to blur. She cleaned the sheets. She cleaned Clives sheets. Not yours, but Clives. The one thing you had left of him, the one thing that still smelled like him, the one thing that made it feel like he wasn’t completely gone from the world, vanishing right before your eyes. You are starting to breathe hard, everything around you is no longer real. It is just you being thrown back into your suffocating glass box, and being thrown back into that dreaded hole. You can hear voices, but can’t distinguish what is being said. It’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder that the glass shatters, leaving you bloody in the dark, dank hole.

You collapse, the flood gates opening with shrieks and agonizing sobs. You are hitting the wood, small splinters digging into your fist as you continue. You didn’t care because no pain was more painful than what you are feeling right now. You hear running, and more commotion in the background.

“There is nothing to see here, take your leave.” It’s Gav. It fucking Gav.

“_____, please get up. What happened?”

“This is my fault.” Hortense says mortified. “I didn’t tell Willow that room was off limits.”

Your breathing is now rapid, sucking air and pushing it out because it isn’t enough. Arms wrap around you and you thrash around, yelling and screaming to let you go. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Gav has you upright and the rage you are now feeling bubbles out, turning into hitting his chest. “You are the only other person that goes in there, and you didn’t notice the fucking sheets were gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

“Please, _____. I just got back from Lostwing. I haven’t been there since early this morning.” Gav reasons, getting a grip on you with your arms secure so you wouldn’t do something you regret.

“That was all I had left of him.” You wail. “All I had was his scent and now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone! He’s gone!”

“I got her from here. You three go have dinner.” Gav picks you up bridal style, walking up the main deck stairs. You are still crying, and your vision is blurry but you can still make out what is behind you. Willow is hugging Hortense, both visibly upset. But then you see Jill, who is standing there looking at the ground, none moving. Torgal is nudging her, but she won’t budge.

I’m sorry, Jill. I broke my promise.

Day 31

One month. It has been one month since Clive’s death, and you are no longer alive; a living corpse that lays in bed for days and days on end. You only get up to use the privy chambers, but other than that you lay there. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. The idea of going to the Backyard, to the Shelves, or even the Ale House is unappealing. Gav usually brings you food, sometimes Jill, but you barely touch it. You eat a little, but your appetite is non-existent; you eat only when your stomach tells you to.

People don’t visit you like they did. Sometimes Jill, Tarja, and even Jote would come in for a short time. They would try talking to you, they would rub your side to bring comfort, they would brush your hair, yet you wouldn’t react. Those visits have slowly dissipated, and you can’t blame them.

You hate what Clive’s passing has turned you into. You never thought grief would transform you so poorly. Grief isn’t new to you, just as it isn’t new for most people in the realm. You grieved when your parents passed, you grieved when Hideaway members didn’t return from missions, you grieved when Titan and his Dhalmekian goons killed so many innocent people in the Old Hideaway. But Clive is your one true love; the one man that was able to intertwine his soul with yours. They say once the soul has been torn into two, it never fully recovers.

You get up from the bed with all the strength you can muster. As you stand, you face the mirror from across the room, and what you see makes you shutter. You walk over slowly, not quite believing that it is you in the reflection. Your fingertips drag along the cool surface, slightly dissociating in the process. What was once full and bright features were now hollowed from lack of sleep, crying, lack of appetite, and the grief that’s swallowing you.

“By the Founder, I look dreadful.”

You want to heal. You want to get better. Your soul is waiting for your shell of a body to hatch, so it may continue to live. But how can you do that in a place where everywhere you look, you see him? Every corner of the Hideaway is covered with Clive’s aspirations, dreams, and ideas. If you want to move on, to grieve healthily, you can’t stay here. You need to be somewhere that takes you back to a time before Clive.

The moon shines brightly in the room, giving you enough light to maneuver around. You pack a small bag of your belongings, only with things that would benefit your travels, and dress yourself in clothes to protect you from the elements. Once situated, you walk over to what was once Clive’s desk and sit down. You grab the quill and a scroll, and look at the blank paper. Your eyes start to water, knowing this decision will ruffle some feathers, and will create a form of worry you won’t be here to satiate. You think about getting back into bed and forgetting about what you are about to do, but you know this is a must. You are holding everyone in the Hideaway back, and you can’t support the cause if you aren’t getting better.

You must do this, so therefore you write.

“What do you mean she left?” Jill raises her voice, the shock clear in her tone.

Gav had come into Clive’s old chambers to send some letters out to town leaders when he saw the bed was empty and made, with a scroll lying on top of the pillow. When Gav opened it, and read the words on the page, he immediately called for an urgent meeting with the main Hideaway members.

“She left this on the bed.” Gav states solemnly, passing it to Otto who is on his right. “Long story short, she doesn’t want to be found. She didn’t give a direct location to where she was heading. All she said is she will send word when she is ready to communicate.”

“She isn’t in the right state of mind to go out by herself!” Tarja says with irritation. “What is she thinking?!”

“How would she have even left? We only have one boat, no?” Tomes questions.

“We have a second boat in case the one Obolus uses is in need of repair.” Otto mutters, looking at the scroll a tad longer before passing it off to the next person.

Jill stands up from her seat, huffing as she turns to take her leave. Gav stands with her, already reading her mind. “Where the bloody fuck you think you’re going?!

“Rather than us wasting our breath, I’m going to go find her!” Jill shouts, frustration built into her face.

Tarja stands up quickly to grab Jill’s arm. “Now wait a damn second. We need a plan before we start going out willy nilly.”

“As you said, she isn’t in the right mindset to be out by herself. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know.” Jill seethes, pissed that nobody seems to be as fearful for her friend as she is.

“She is strong, Jill.”

Everyone turns to Jote, who is never one to chime in unless need be. She is holding the scroll, looking at it as she speaks. “I don’t know her as well as you all may, but from what I do know she is very resilient. She wouldn’t leave unless necessary, and this letter proves as much.”

Everyone is quiet, thinking caps on as they process Jote’s words. The first words spoken after the pregnant silence is Otto, turning to Gav seriously. “Gav, you are the leader of the Hideaway now. It is your call.”

Gav ponders for a moment, a bit torn of what action is best to take. You are family and he wants to know you are safe. He also doesn’t want to get in the way of what you need to do to get better. He fears sending Hideaway members out to find you will make things worse.

“I think,” Gav pauses, sighing in the process. “I will alert town leaders around Valisthea to keep their eyes peeled for her. If she doesn’t want to be bothered, we shouldn’t intrude. Getting a location on her though would be beneficial for us to ensure she is at least safe.”

“Gav is right,” Otto agrees. “She will need to go into towns for essentials and will probably pass through a few.”

“If we don’t hear anything within a month's time, we will start sending out some search parties, but as I said we cannot bother her if we find her. We have to hope she will reach out to us when she is ready.” Gav continues, giving everyone a once over to see if his words are reciprocated.

Agreements are shared, some more hesitant than others, before Gav dismisses everyone to their daily duties. When the last person leaves, Gav collapses into his seat, taking deep breaths as he runs his hands over his face.

“May Greagor be with you, _____.” Gav whispers to himself.

Day 40

You can’t sleep, constantly shifting under the covers with no sense of relief. You feel hot, which is abnormal for this cool night. You start to burn up, skin flaring until it starts to burn. You sit up, panicking as you throw the covers off of you before you freeze, breath caught in your throat. In the moonlight, there is a figure sitting across the room from you, head bowed down with arms in their lap. You panic in silence, not knowing whether to fight or flight.

“You’re awake.” That voice. You know that voice all too well.

“C-Clive?” You stutter, not trusting your voice to break the quiet.

Silence suffocates the room. You wait for a response, but he just sits there. You move off the bed and walk towards him slowly, feeling off about what you are experiencing. He’s dead. Metia’s star went out. This can’t be real.

You are standing in front of him now, your bare toes touching his boots. He still doesn’t move, so you move your hands to his head, messing with the strands of hair from his head. “Clive, is it really you?”

“You left.” You pause, his tone off. Is he not happy to see me?

“Clive, I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“And yet, you still left.” He growls, finally moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, on the verge of pain. “You promised to wait for me. You broke that promise.”

“Clive,” you choke. “I’m sorry I-”

“You broke your promise to Jill.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“You abandoned the Hideaway, my legacy, like it was nothing!”

“Clive, you’re hurting me.” You are crying now. His fingers are digging into your side hard, and you look to see he is shaking with anger.

“This is nothing in comparison to how you have hurt me!” He yells, and he lifts his head, causing you to gasp. His eyes are orange, glowing bolder and bolder the more worked up he got. You try to pry his grip off of you, but to no avail.

“Please, Clive!” You cry harder. “I love you, I'm sorry for leaving! I should have stayed!”

“You are too late, _____.” He seethes.

“Because I don’t love you anymore.”

You shoot up from your bed, screaming in a cold sweat. You look around the room like a mad woman, trying to gauge your surroundings. A wave of nausea overcomes you and you fall to the floor, vomiting from the absolute madness that occurred in your head. You dry heave on the floor, waiting for the next course of nausea to arrive but it never came. You sat up so your back was against the bed, relieved you weren’t going to be sick again, yet frustrated all the same.

You arrived in Dhalmekia four days ago. Originally, you set out to find your childhood home where you grew up with your parents, but when you arrived at the village off to the left of the Northern Velkroy, it had all but been abandoned. Your home, that was left with memories of your old life, ravaged from what you could assume to be bandits. So you kept going, hitchhiking a few rides before traveling on foot. That is when you found a small, two room cottage down in the Fields of Corava, a place you weren’t aware of, having never been south of Dalimil. There was minimal damage; a broken window and some chipped flooring. It was a better place to stay for the time being.

Ever since arriving, however, your mind has conjured terrible dreams with it being the same every time. It was always you and Clive in this room with him degrading your worth. The first night didn’t feel real, knowing that Clive would never act as such with you. But tonight, after having it for the fourth time in a row, your heart is waning.

You stare at the chair you saw Clive in, an increasing amount of anguish washing over you as you look. He’s gone. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to ground yourself. He’s gone. You start to choke on air, not wanting the cries of grief released from your lungs. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s fucking gone!

The shell cracks, the quiet night becomes piercing as you scream. You shoot up to the chair, taking it and bashing it into the floor. You keep screaming, the splinters from the chair and the floor growing with each smack. No matter the ache your body is having, the adrenaline rushing through your it has given your grief new purpose; a cathartic event that is shaping your mentality.

The chair is nothing but wood; the bare bones of it. You get up to open the door, chucking the wood outside the door with rage. The splintered wood digs into your hands, your emotional distress covering any semblance of physical pain. Your screams have turned into wails, angry tears dripping from your face to the floor.

This rage inside of you stirred by grief makes you feel like you're dying. If anyone told you that Clive’s death would make you transform into the living dead, you’d laugh. How could anyone make you feel dead when you were the cheerful jack of the Hideaway?

The wood is now dispersed all across the field before you, bathing in the pure light of the moon. You sink into the cottage where the dark swallows you, slamming the door shut and sliding down it as your body continues its assault. Your bloody hands grip at your hair as you rock back and forth, chanting the same two words over and over.

He’s gone.

Day 70

The atmosphere at the Hideaway was the same like any other day. People were up doing their tasks or simply enjoying the day; it has been the same old, same old.

That is, until the bell on the pier sounded off.

“What is going on?!” Jill yells, everyone looking over the main deck to see the commotion. The bell is only used for emergencies, like if an enemy were to approach the Hideaway. However, Jill sees that people weren’t panicking, but rejoicing.

Gav runs up to Jill alarmed, trying to get a sense of what’s happening. “Oh fuck me! What’s going on?!”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jill says, her and Gav picking up the pace as they walk to see the situation at hand; both ready to take action. The two of them push through the crowd, finally reaching the railing that sees over the pier. The first instant Jill looks down, a gasp is let out with her hand covering her mouth and eyes bulging.

“No fucking way,” Gav whispers, not quite believing what he is seeing.

But their eyes do not betray them, for the bell has rang not for an emergency situation, but a message that he is alive. Clive is alive.

“He made it… Great Greagor he fucking made it!” Gav cheers.

“Clive!” Jill yells.

Clive looks up to the main deck to see two of his cherished friends, and right as he makes eye contact with them, he makes a run for the lift. Gav and Jill follow his lead, running in the direction he is to come to officially greet him. The minute Clive steps out from the lift, Gav and Jill are on him, hugging him tightly to make sure he isn’t here to haunt the place.

“You’re alive!” Jill elates.

“I apologize for my late return. I didn’t realize I’d be sorely missed.” Clive jokes, watching as more people gather around them.

“Are you kidding? This place has been falling apart without you!” Gav exaggerates.

It makes Clive chuckle, placing his hand on Gav’s shoulder as he pulls back. “Seeing all the new faces, I doubt that. And that is thanks to you. Thank you for keeping the Hideaway safe.”

Clive feels something rub his leg, and looks to see Torgal rubbing his head against him. He bends down, using his good arm to rub behind Torgal’s ears. “Torgal, have you been a good boy since I’ve been away?”

“Clive,” Jill gasps. “You’re arm.”

During Clive’s travels back home, his arm had become more of a nuisance if anything. He is a strong man; he can wield swords made of the heaviest metals, no problem. But to have an appendage weigh more than the other, well, that is a whole different situation. He had ripped part of his cape and created a sling to keep his arm in place, making travel more bearable.

Clive stands up straight, rubbing his stoned arm. “Yeah… I didn’t get away completely unscathed.” Clive draws out. “But nevertheless, we won.”

“What of Joshua and Dion?” Jill asks, even though the look in her eyes tells him she already knows. All he could do was shake his head.

“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.” Clive says, having much to tell.

“You will, but not before we get your arm sorted out.”

“Of course,” Clive chuckles, and turns to see Tarja with her arms crossed and hip out. He is so happy to be back amongst friends and family, ready to truly cherish his time after a battle where he could have easily perished. But most importantly, he is ready to see you.

Truth be told, Clive’s travels back to Valisthea were consumed mostly by you. All he could think about was how he craves for you to be in his warm embrace, giving him kisses and caresses that would heal him for a lifetime. To be away from you for so long is agony, and what has kept him going was knowing the future is now his and yours; one where you both can live lives worth living.

He looks around and sees a bunch of familiar faces approach, his original crew gathering around him as they welcome his return. He scans the crowd, nodding to everyone and granting a smile. However, he doesn’t see you within the sets of familiar faces.

“Where’s _____?” Clive asks, scanning the crowd once more for your face.

Everyone goes silent, glancing at one another trying to communicate. An uneasy feeling settles in Clive’s pit, not liking the reaction he got with his simple question.

Tarja is the first to speak up, diverting the question quickly with urgency. “We can talk about her later, but first we need to do something about your arm straight away. Jill. Gav. Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be up there shortly.” There was a look in Tarja’s eyes that told Clive she wouldn’t be there for a while, which made that uneasy feeling grow bolder.

Gav and Jill suddenly hook arms with Clive on either side, walking fast so he had no choice but to follow. Clive could feel himself getting frustrated, having wanted to see you for days upon days and not being granted that wish immediately upon his return.

He leans down to Jill’s ear, needing an explanation immediately. “Where is she?”

“It is better we explain once we are upstairs.” Jill reasons, although there is a shake in her voice.

The four of them get into the infirmary, Jill and Gav situating Clive on a cot. Gav whispers to Jill, her nodding in response as he jogs out of the room. Clive looks at her, a million thoughts running through his head at their peculiarness.

“Jill, what is happening?”

Jill twiddles her thumbs, taking deep breaths as she prepares herself. She looks down at the floorboards, and Clive can feel the tension in the room. “Some things happened while you were away, Clive.” Her breath trembles. “You aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say.”

“You are worrying me, Jill.” Clive says, trying to stay calm. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

Jill looks up, eyes starting to gloss over. She places her hands over Clive’s right hand, squeezing it gently. “The night of Origin. Metia’s star went out, and I couldn’t feel you anymore after that. I thought you were dead.

“Jill,” Clive says in a low tone. “I apologize for causing so much grief.”

“We all thought you died.” Jill laughs solemnly. “Seeing you right now doesn’t feel real.”

Clive squeezes Jill’s hands as a means to comfort her, as well as to urge her to continue. She shakes her head, tears as icy Shiva’s magick slipping down her face. “We all took it very hard. Some held hope, but after weeks of no signs of your return, everyone had accepted it.”

Jill’s breath stutters. “But Greagor, Clive. _____ took it so hard.” The tears started to fall, Jill shaking as she continued. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat… oh Greagor she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She would just lay there no matter what we tried to do.”

Clive thinks his heart just tore. The thought of you like that made him ill. And the past tense of Jill’s words make the air all the more suffocating.

“Where is she, Jill? Let me see her, please.” He pleads, needing to show you that he lives and has come back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jill cries, her head bowing onto their intertwined hands. “I’m so sorry, Clive.”

“Jill talk to me, please!” He begs before hearing the door to the infirmary open, only to see Gav with a small scroll in his hand.

“Gav, you need to tell me what has happened.” Clive says sternly, knowing another second longer with no answer will send him into a frenzy.

Gav shows him the scroll, making Clive gently let go of Jill’s hands to reach for it but before he could grab it Gav backed away. “When you read this, know that we have plans enacted.”

Gav hands it to him, taking another step back to give Clive more space. Clive unravels the scroll quickly, the need for answers strong. And he gets his answer, but that answer makes his skin run cold and go hot at the same time.

Gav,

I apologize for putting this on you. I know your transition as the new Cid has been a lot, and I am sorry for making it much harder for you. This space is yours now. Not Clive’s, nor mine.

You know as well as the others I am not well. A part of me died the day Clive passed, and being here has made any progress of healing not happen. Truth is, I see him everywhere. Everything here reminds me of him, and it’s killing me because one moment I see him and the next I don’t. The grief that has consumed me has become everlasting.

By the time you read this, I will be far gone. Please, I beg of you, do not come find me. Do not send anyone to come find me. I will not come back, at least for now. Any chance of me getting better is for me to go out there, not stay here. I know this will cause worry, and I apologize for being a nuisance, but I have no choice. It’s either I die out there trying or I stay here rotting.

Tell the others I’m sorry, especially Jill, and take care of her. Once I’m ready, I’ll send word of my whereabouts. Until then, please let me grieve in peace.

Much obliged,

_____

Clive is seeing red. His fist starts to squeeze the paper, crackles and the sound of a tear coming from it. “When did she leave?”

“It’s been about a month.” Gav mutters, and everything that happens next is a blur. Clive shoots up from the bed, charging towards Gav before slamming him into the door.

“Clive, please don’t!” Jill cries.

“She’s been gone for a month?! And you have yet to find her?!” Clive yells, his fist gripping tightly onto Gav’s leathers.

“We have notified people on the outside to keep us posted.” Gav tries to reassure. “That is what the Hideaway members have agreed on.” His words do nothing to soothe him. If he still had his magick, he is sure hellfire would rain on the Hideaway.

“She needed time, Clive.” Jill rests her hand on his shoulder. “We chose to respect her wishes.”

He scoffs, backing away from the both of them, disbelief clear on his features. “You agreed to this too?”

“You were not here to witness what we did!” Jill yells agitated. “Clive, I understand your frustration, but if you saw how she was you wouldn’t think twice.”

He wants to stay angry, put the blame on someone selfishly. You’ve done so much for the Hideaway, the cause, everyone involved. How could they let you leave? But all he feels is defeat. He came too late, and now he needs to make up for lost time.

“Excuse me,” Clive mutters, walking towards the door Gav is still leaning against.

Jill shoots herself to grab the upper half of his petrified arm, a grunt forced out at the pulling tension. “Clive, you need to stay right here so Tarja can do something about your arm.”

“No, I am going to go out and look for her! She needs to know I’m alive!” He tries shaking her grip off his arm, but to no avail as she holds on tighter. Panic is starting to set in, not knowing where you are and if you are safe freaking him out. It is almost as if he is experiencing firsthand what you went through.

Gav steps forward, putting his hands on Clive’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “We have cursebreakers looking for her daily now that the month of her leave has passed. We will find her. And now that you are back, we will bring her home.”

“Once you are better, we will go with you to search for her. But for right now, you need to rest. Let the cursebreakers do what they’ve been assigned to do.” Jill reassures. “Let’s get you ready for Tarja. The sooner she can fix you up, the faster you can go out.”

Clive takes a deep breath before nodding, and lets Jill and Gav guide him back to the cot. He sits back down, and all he can do is look down at the floorboards. Anger and defeat have turned into a sadness he cannot fully comprehend; a feeling he hasn’t quite felt before. “Do you two mind giving me some time alone? Please.”

“Of course, Clive. We will be outside if you need anything.” Jill says, before the sound of four feet patter across the floor and the creak of the door opens and closes, leaving Clive completely alone.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that; unmoving, eyes glued to the floor. All he thinks is he should have found a way to send a message to you so you knew he had survived. Deep down, he knows there was nothing he could have done given his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop the blame game he is putting upon himself. So he sits there, wallowing in his heartache as his shoulders shake and throat lets out faint sobs.

The letter is still held tightly in his grasp.

Day 71

Waking up early in the morning before the sun makes its greeting isn’t abnormal for you, not when you dream constantly. Sometimes your dreams would startle you. Sometimes they would make you wake up crying. Sometimes they would wake you up with a smile on your face. But the time is always the same; the moon is always there to tell you the time of the morning and you fall back into a deep sleep before the sun shows itself. However, this time is different.

In recent days, you’ve had nothing but wonderful dreams. Not ones like when you first came here, or ones about a future no longer possible. They were dreams of the past, deja vu in nature. Fond memories of you and Clive ranging from the first time you laid eyes on him to the last. What’s different about your calling back to the real world is your eyes open to hues of yellow and orange shining through the window. It is not the moon’s beams that greet you, but the sun’s rays.

You get out of bed and go to the door, opening it to step out onto the field. The early morning air hits your skin, the grass licking at your feet as you continue forward. You trek to the spot between the elevated land, a v-shape displaying the rising sun as it continues its ascent. Your hand goes out in front of you, watching your skin transform as the sun’s colors grow brighter. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you because all you feel is peace. For once since Valisthea changed forever, you felt like everything will be okay.

You think about the first time you and Clive watched the sunrise together, holding each other tightly as you both talk about how it is a new day full of hopes and dreams. You remember him telling you how he has never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and you can understand why; you understand because you feel the same.

You know Clive would want you to live to the fullest, for that was what he wanted all along. Even if things didn’t turn out the way they should have, he would have wanted you to live for him, but most importantly for yourself. He would want you to remember your time together fondly, and that it wasn’t for nothing. It was everything.

You inhale deeply, the scents of the morning filling your airways before you exhale. You continue to look out on the horizon, mesmerized by the beauty of a new day; a new start .

“I deserve to be happy, right Clive?” You whisper to yourself. “I will continue to live for you and for me. Starting now.”

This is the start of your new life.

Day 172

“These are absolutely beautiful, my lady. These are so hard to find in Dhalmekia.”

You smile brightly, watching the woman before you admire your handy work. “I’m pleased that you love them. Morgenbeards are native to the swampy waters in Rosaria, but I was able to get my hands on some seeds.”

“You must know your stuff to get them to grow here.” The lady continues.

You shake your head, grinning at her. “I have my ways.”

To say things have gotten better would be the greatest understatement in history because you are thriving. It is as if everything has fallen into place. You fixed up the small cottage you are residing in so it felt more like a home rather than a temporary visit. You did a lot of prep work to ensure you’d live comfortably. The greatest thing, however, is you found a way to make a living for yourself, the one thing you do best: grow flowers.

You noticed how flowers grew in the fields, yet you could tell they needed help; the Dhalmeky dirt too dry to keep them alive for long. You were able to get some books on flower gardening, along with different kinds of seeds, all imported from merchants who graciously accepted the little gil you had. It took some time, but those things helped you open a flower shop out of your home. And thus far, it has been a wonderful success.

You had taken a flower cart to Dalimil to get your name out there, and to let people know where to find your business. You eventually want to move your business within the inn’s market, but when you had come to propose the idea, you found out Lubor had been gone on an expedition. The cart will have to do, you recalled thinking. The people there have been nothing but supportive, offering their business in exchange for theirs: vases, business signs, gardening supplies, etcetera. It was a good system that benefitted you and them. You were grateful.

You are sitting at the kitchen table, having closed shop for the day, sipping on some hot tea as you write down your daily earnings. A hard day’s work is rewarding, and knowing your flowers have made your customers happy makes you happy. To be doing things that feel worthwhile feels good, and the last time you felt this way was when you lived at the Hideaway.

The Hideaway. You stop writing as you reminisce about those times. It really wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. Have I changed that much?

You miss everyone dearly. You miss Tarja’s tough love. You miss Mid’s inventiveness. You miss Otto’s gruffness. You miss Tome’s stories of his travels. You miss Jote’s coolness. You miss Gav’s banter. You miss Torgal’s way of comforting you. You miss Jill’s faith. You miss everyone. You often wonder if they miss you too.

You are surprised no one has come looking for you, or have found you if they were. You think about what they must have thought when you left that letter. Were they angry? Sad? Worried? All three? Did they listen to you when you said you didn’t want to be found or did they nonstop look day and night for you? You couldn’t tell. Not unless you find out for yourself.

You set the daily earnings paper aside, and lay out a fresh one, your quill hovering over the paper as you think of what to say. There are so many words to say, yet you don’t know where to start. Do you share everything? Do you just tell them you are okay? Do you tell them where you are? So many questions to answer with little paper to write it all out. So you write something simple, hoping it gets the message across.

I hope this finds you well. Come see me if you wish. You all know where to find me.

Day 179

Clive’s search for you has been non-stop, days and nights spent looking for trails only to find dead ends. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how you could have disappeared without a trace. But that will not deter him. He will not stop looking until he finds you.

Every place that Clive could think of they checked. Areas in Dhalmekia were the first places they looked, knowing you knew the area better than others. The very first place they checked was your childhood home near the Northern Velkroy, but it didn’t look like there were any signs of life there. Different towns within the area were checked but no one had heard or seen you. Hell, they were more surprised to see him alive and well to focus on the whereabouts of a lost woman. He understood, but it grated his nerves.

Every other place in Valisthea had been scouted and marked as they went, but every location and mark was the same. So here he was, writing letters to town leaders of the cause again to be his eyes. You have to show up somewhere eventually, if you haven’t already.

As every day passes, his heart wanes further. It yearns for you, calling out its other half to be complete again. When he does rest, granted not for long periods of time, he imagines you are lying with him. He holds a pillow close in his arms, picturing it to be you to subdue his crazed heart and mind. It was nice to pretend, but then he wakes up and is sorely disappointed to see what lies in his arms is just that: a pillow. It’s a cycle because the same thought crosses his mind each and every time: the day you are back in his arms will be a momentous day. That day has yet to come.

He keeps writing the same words over and over on different sheets of paper when he hears commotion from beyond his doors. The fighting instinct in him shoots up, running to the door to see what was happening when he sees Otto, Jill, and Gav running towards him.

“Has something happened?” Clive asks, alarmed.

Otto reaches Clive first, shoving a piece of paper into his hand. “She has communicated with us.”

Clive couldn’t read the paper fast enough, not quite believing this day had come. He rings out the paper to straighten it before reading her handwriting. “She is staying in a cottage in the Fields of Corava.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the lass back!” Gav expresses with full excitement, springs basically on the bottom of his feet with how bouncy he is.

Jill pats Gav on the back. “Gav, let’s let Clive go alone.” She then turns to face Clive, an understanding smile greeting him. “They will need some time together.”

“Thank you, Jill.” Clive says softly. “I thank all of you.”

“Well, if that’s the case…” Gav draws out, approaching Clive before slamming his hand on his shoulder, “you better get cleaned up! You have a lady to see.”

Clive laughs at Gav’s antics, and turns to ready himself; ready himself to return to you once and for all.

Day 184

It’s late in the morning as you gather flowers into your basket, trimming and cutting the ones that have bloomed beautifully. The flower gardens in the field were flourishing more and more every day. The more you work in the gardens, the more fulfillment you feel. You felt this when you helped out in the Backyard, but what you built here is from your own doing. You believe it to be a testament to your growth, showing that you made the right decision all those months ago. You’ve created your own little utopia, and to share it with others is a beautiful thing.

As you cut fresh flowers, you start to wonder if people at the Hideaway got your letter. You would love for them to come visit, and see what you have done with the place. You wonder if they will ever come to see you or if they will send a letter back. It could be any day now, and you will be ready.

You have a full basket of flowers ready to be put in vases, and before you can get up to head inside you see a shadow lingering above your form. “I’m sorry, but I won't be open for another couple of hours.”

There is no reply, and the shadow remains as still as a statue. You sigh, standing up to turn and be more clear with your words. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I still need to se-”

The flower basket falls from your grasp, tumbling out and falling into a heap by your feet. Time has frozen, not feeling real as you look at the person you have longed to see for months. You question if you are hallucinating, having had moments where you would see Clive one second and the next he was gone. This, however, was different.

The man before you was not in uniform; just a simple white tunic that displayed a few of his chest curls at the v-cut and regular black trousers with his leather boots. His face was clean-shaven, the facial hair he had kept for so long absent from his face making him look younger. The biggest difference, however, was his left arm; from his elbow down was gone. How could this be hallucination?

“Am I dreaming or is this real?” You breathe, blinking a few times to see if he’d disappear. He didn’t.

He takes a step forward, grabbing one of your hands to place it over his heart. He is warm, his heart fluttering quickly. He is looking down into your eyes, where you see his baby blues grow glossy. “This is real.” He murmurs. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

Something about his words break you, your hands latching onto his shirt to hold yourself to reality. He’s home. My Clive is home.

You can’t help the sobs that leave your mouth as you bury your face into his chest, making him wrap his arm around you as you both collapse down into the flower beds. You are feeling every emotion under the sun, and you can tell Clive does too as he holds you in his lap. He cries with you, sharing a reunion so pure that it is overwhelming. You lift your head and bring his face to yours, kissing him so deeply that your lungs shake. Exchanges of small words come out between the two of you as you give each other kisses that have been longed for.

“I never thought I’d see this day.” You say with a wobble in your tone, kissing him again and again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Clive croaks, and goes back in for your lips.

There you both make up for lost time; holding onto each other in a field of flowers where kisses and touches are continuously exchanged.

You and Clive eventually went inside. You turn the sign on your door to ‘close’, so no one can bother you two. You watch Clive look around the place, taking in your little set up of flowers on the kitchen table.

“I apologize for the mess. I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few days believe it or not.”

Clive looks at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’ve always had a way with flowers. Speaking of which…”

He reaches into his pocket, only to pull out the lily you had given him all that time ago. You gasp, surprised he has kept hold of it. “You still have it? But how?”

“I protected it with my life.” Clive sets it onto the table. “You gave it to me with the wish that I’d return to you. I wasn’t going to lose it easily.”

“You are so endearing.” You say, but you have so many things you want to know and that alone puts a small frown on your face.

Clives sees the shift immediately, grabbing your hand to console you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“What happened at Origin, Clive?” You ask, needing to know what he went through for the time he was gone.

Clive exhales, seemingly knowing that question was coming. He pulls your hand towards him as he walks to your bed. “We should sit down. It is a long story.”

The two of you sit down and Clive still has a tight hold on one of your hands. “Forgive me, for this may take me a second. Thinking about certain events there still hurts.”

You bring your free hand to his face, which feels smooth under your touch. His head leans into your palm, turning slightly to kiss the delicate skin. “Take all the time you need. I am here.” You murmur.

And so, he tells the tale of Origin. He tells you about Dion’s sacrifice. He tells you about what he found out about Ultima’s plans. He tells you about Joshua’s passing, something he had a hard time conveying without his voice breaking, but he pushed on. He tells you about Ultima’s demise. He tells you about how he woke up somewhere off the Shadow Coast of Storm. And he tells you how throughout his journey back to Valisthea, all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait to come home to you. All of it was hard to listen to, hearing what he went through from Origin till now.

“So, Metia going out was a sign that magick has been lost…”

“Mmm,” he hums, the both of you lying down now.

“So that’s why you didn’t become wholly petrified? You stopped it in time.”

“Tarja did a great job removing it and ensuring my stub was healed properly, despite my stubbornness.” He jokes, but you don’t laugh. All you can think about is the past.

“If only I waited a little longer,” you start. “I would have saved us so much grief.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Clive shushes, kissing the top of your head and pulling you closer into his body. “Jill told me you had a very hard time grieving. I will not shame you for doing something you felt was right.

You bury your head into Clive’s neck, breathing in something that is so undeniably him. “You know, when I first got here, I would have these dreams. Nightmares really.”

Clive stays silent, letting you continue. “It would always start and end the same. I would wake up with you in the room, and the next thing I knew you were telling me I had betrayed you… and that you no longer loved me.” You start to sniff, not liking to recall those dreams. “For such a long time, I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy because I had left part of your legacy behind. It felt like your ghost was haunting me day and night.”

“Oh, darling,” Clive pulls you into him so you are on top of him with legs on either side of him. Clive brings your forehead to his, his thumb coming up to swipe the tears building up in your eyes. “I could never not love you.” He looks deeply into you, burning the truth of his heart into you. “I am yours even beyond death.”

His words overwhelm you, and you lean down to kiss him with every passionate fiber in your being. Your hands go to his torso, running your fingers up and down the sides as you continue to show him how much you love him. He grunts into your lips, his arm holding you down to him. Your hands start to slide slowly under his tunic, your fingers slowly ascending until they reach his chest only to go down again. The delicate touch of your fingers makes his hips buck right against your heat, a grunt and a moan echoing together simultaneously. Your hands go back up again, only this time you bring the tunic with you.

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” You say against his lips.

Clive smirks at your boldness, only to flip you over on your back so he is hovering over you. “That we do, darling. Forgive me, though. Having one arm gives me less leverage.”

You hum, bringing him back down to you by his hair. “I’m sure we can manage.”

You two make love into the night and into the morning, not getting enough of one another; making up for lost time.

Day 200

Since you and Clive’s reunion, he had decided to stay for a while. He had sent a letter to the Hideaway to let them know you were well and that he would be staying for the time being, making Gav in charge.

“He’ll love that.” You had joked.

“He’s his own man. I have all the faith in him.”

These last few weeks have been sublime. When you wake up, you see Clive snoozing away beside you on your right; always the right so he can wrap his arm around you in his sleep. He has also helped you with the flower shop. You two would go out in the morning before the heat set in to work the ground and water the flowers. You don’t know if the yearning in your body has yet to be satiated, but there have been times when you would come outside to gather more flowers to see Clive with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his burly chest as he works. It takes every bone in your body not to jump his own. Most times, you are unsuccessful.

You also found out Clive is quite the salesman. When you two would go out to Dalimil to sell from your cart, the way he is able to convince people to make a purchase is astounding. Is it the charm? The looks? A combination of both? You could guess, but it didn’t matter. Every time you made a sale, he would turn to give you a quick peck.

“I would kiss you for every individual flower we sell, but we don’t want to scare them away now, do we?”

After a long day out in Dalimil, you two are now inside the cottage finishing up dinner. You are cleaning the dishes when you feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around you pulling your hips to his. You hum in a laughing manner, his friskiness showing as he places kisses on the side of your face. “Clive, let me finish these.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.” He hums, his kisses lingering below your ear.

You sigh but continue cleaning. Clive, on the other hand, was not having it. He pulls you away, soap and water sloshing from your hands as he pulls you to him. He plops down onto the kitchen chair, bringing you into his lap. “Hmmm, I got you.”

“You are such a horn dog. Are you sure Ifrit still doesn’t linger within you?” You laugh, then squeak when he pinches your side.

“In all seriousness,” he murmurs in your ear. “I want to talk about something.”

“About?” You hum.

“About our future.”

“Go on,” you urge. “What about our future?”

“Well,” Clive starts, “living the way we have the last couple weeks, my mind can’t stop wandering to what I want for us.”

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, only for him to nip at the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle. “Such as?”

“To start the life we’ve always talked about.” He places more kisses on your neck. “One where our lives are strictly ours. One where I come home to my beautiful wife.”

“I like the sound of that.” You mewl, his kisses making you squirm in his lap.

“One where I get to see you bearing our child.” His hand goes down to your tummy, rubbing just above your uterus.

“I’ll be surprised if I’m not already with all the love making we have done.” You giggle.

He chuckles along with you, his hand squeezing your flesh. “You’d look beautiful. You always do.” He continues, “one where I get to raise a little me, a little you, or both.”

“It all sounds so wonderful.” You purr, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his remarks.

“Then let’s go ahead with step one.” Clive says, lifting you off of him only to sit you back down. He kneels before you, both of your hands in his one. “I don’t have a ring, but I can’t wait a moment longer. _____, will you do me the utmost honor of marrying me?”

You hum, smiling brightly at his question. “Would you have me in a wedding dress? A big ceremony?”

“Anything your heart desires.”

You shake your head, laughing at his insistence. You look at him, letting yourself get swallowed by his eyes. “I’d marry you with just the clothes on my back.”

Clive grins, bringing your left hand to his lips as he kisses your ring finger. “I cannot wait to marry you, future Lady Rosfield.”

Lady Rosfield. It has a nice ring to it.

#clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi #clive rosfield angst #clive x reader #final fantasy xvi #my fics

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floralifetime · 1 year

Text

Toruk Makto’s Sister

Warning: very bad writing, maybe some gramatical error (English is not my first language, so please be gentle), angst, death of a major charapter, grief, bad words.

Next Chapter

⚠️⚠️The sentence is not mine, credits go to the author⚠️⚠️

Chapter n.1 Goodbye Tommy, I love you.

"The pain suffered at your death is the price for having loved you so much in life"

I still can't believe it happened, Tommy my beloved older brother, is dead. He was treacherously killed by a thief who tried to steal his wallet, given my career in the military I shouldn't be so hurt by someone leaving, I mean, death happens every day from various causes, not all natural, but it's also true that you never really worry about something like this until it affects your loved ones. We were three, now we are only two. Too bad Jakey is on Earth, while I'm on Pandora, not exactly around the corner and so I find myself alone. "Y/N are you here? Can we come in?"

No, not really alone, there's my best friend Trudy and my pseudo-mentor, Grace. Yet since Tommy was killed I find it hard to even think about them, I love them both very much but I feel alienated, as if I see everything and everyone as a mere spectator, as if I don't really live. I hear the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching my bunk, probably knowing me they didn't wait for permission. "Aww Y/N, it's terrible to lose a brother like this. I know." Trudy's voice acts as a switch and in an instant the blockage of my throat melts allowing me to cry all the tears I was trying to hold back to show myself strong in front of the others, to avoid their looks of compassion, their pity. I don't like to be pitied, both here in Pandora base and on Earth, it's just not for me, I've always wanted to be like my two brothers, my role models, my heroes, I think almost all younger sisters have this idea of their brothers, and I had mine. Tommy and Jake are my life and so are Trudy and Grace, I would give my life for them and here I am, mourning the death of someone I love so much and couldn't save. I who have always taken care of their wounds, be they physical or emotional, who have kept their confidences, who have brightened their days and lightened the weights on their shoulders, if they had any. I did everything I could to protect my brother after his injury and I only came here when I was sure Jakey would be okay, because that's how I've always wanted to do, who I've always wanted to be, who cares about those who love and who sacrifice themselves for them, desiring their happiness. And now what do I have left? Tommy's gone, treacherously killed by a bastard that if I ever find him, his life will be over. I should have helped him, I should have been there with him because I could defend myself with a respectable military career behind me. I should have been there, he died alone and even if I couldn't save him, at least I would have comforted him in his last moments and I didn't do that either. My screams, screams and moans fill the room and I only realize it when I notice Grace has buried her head between her shoulders, trying not to hear my cries of pain, I wish I could help but it's so much difficult. "I know it's not easy Y/N, and you're sick, I understand, but we need you." Grace's voice is calm and bordering on insensitive, the opposite of the storm of anger and pain that surges through me when I usually appreciate Grace's calmness, this time it drives me into a rage. This scares me, it's not like me to think so badly of Grace, this isn't me… Pain transforms you when it overwhelms you I suppose. I frown and start to argue, but Trudy is faster than me. "Don't you think losing a brother like this is hard enough in itself, without constantly reminding her of what is expected of her!?" Trudy is annoyed by Grace's rush to resume her studies and research, I know deep down that Grace doesn't want to be mean, but now is not the time. I need some time to process the pain, the mourning, but unfortunately I don't have this advantage, I don't have this time. "I'm sorry Grace, I don't think I'm in a position to resume my studies, my research or whatever you have in mind, I'm sorry." Trudy nods, running a hand down my back, while Grace just looks at me. "I didn't think someone with your career could have such a meltdown" Trudy hits the scientist, I don't even have the strength to do it anymore, I'm usually stronger than that, yet Tom's death drained me. "This was bad Grace you know Y/N is proud of her career and for good reason." I served in the military with Jakey as a sniper, then he was recognized as a perfect fit for the Avatar program due to my adaptable nature and my abilities outside strictly the sniper field due to my endless curiosity about everything, I love to read and inform me . I'm in Pandora training because, as a "prize of honor" during a particularly dangerous operation, I was given the opportunity to conduct training directly at Pandora's base. At first I was reluctant, I didn't want to separate from my brothers, I accepted only because Tommy threatened me that if I didn't do it he would be ashamed of me for the rest of his life. Ironic, huh? He didn't have long to live, apparently. I've been here ever since and only had a break when I learned of Jakey's injury, then I returned to Earth and then returned to the Avatar program when I had confirmation that my brother was handling himself, not a second ago. I ignored the health problems I might experience during these various planet-to-planet journeys, I didn't care what might happen to me, as long as Jakey knew he was loved and had someone by his side to help him, I would pay any price to help my brother and I would do it again, I have not regretted it and I never will. Only Grace and Trudy know that I have actually had various health problems that could have slowed my training were it not for my intelligence and willpower, Grace's words. "I know, and I also know you're right to be proud of yourself, I mean I didn't expect subjects accustomed to death to feel its effects so violently." I sighed, not looking into her eyes "What you're saying doesn't make sense, Grace. This is different and you know it too!" I answer. "What would be different, Y/N?" she replies her. "That he was and is my brother, maybe? It doesn't matter that I'm in the military, it doesn't mean a thing, when you lose someone dear, it really affects you despite the career you've decided to pursue. And you also know the reasons that prompted me towards a military career." Initially my career was to focus on the medical side of the military, which leaned more towards my personality, then after an attack that killed everyone but me, miraculously saved by the beams that protected me as the building I was in collapsed, I decided to totally change course and engage in combat, in some form. Grace raises an eyebrow and nods. "I guess what you're saying makes sense, Y/N. I'm sorry, maybe I should have paid more attention." "I definitely agree with you, Grace!" Trudy throws daggers at her with a look, even though I love them, I can't stand their fights right now. "Girls, I'm sorry but if you have to fight, please get out, I... I really don't have the strength, forgive me." Trudy and Grace look at me, my favorite thing about them is that they don't show pity, no compassion, they certainly feel it because they don't have stones for hearts, but they are discreet enough not to throw it in my face, which calms me down. They both just nod, while Trudy smiles sweetly, saying, "We're here for you, no matter what we say to each other, we're always here for you." Grace continues to nod at her words. "What did I do wrong? Why did Tommy die?! What did I do wrong, what did he do wrong to deserve this!? He wasn't a bad person, why kill him!?" I cry out of control, I feel like I will soon lose the calm in my voice. "He IS a bloody poor man, that's why he took him away from you." Trudy runs her hands down my back, trying to comfort me, to coax me into a calm that I don't have. "F-For what? For scraps of paper in the wallet?! Is it possible that printed paper is worth more than one life?!" I answer in kind, despite the choked voice that I find myself, the dry throat that itches as if I had swallowed a cactus whole. "Those pieces of paper have been making the world go round since they were invented Y/N, I know you're smarter than that, it's just the pain that speaks for you." Trudy rolls her eyes at Grace's apparent insensitivity, but she's like that, she's a scientist, she's normal to be skeptical and rational in every situation, "I don't think she would want to see you suffer so much, you know your brother loved your smile." Trudy speaks again as she takes my face and wipes my tears, delicate for her. "Trudy… Why did he die? I should have been there, what did I do wrong?" the doubt of having done something wrong, of being absent when I should have been present eats me up. "You didn't do anything wrong, you couldn't know it, he died because some motherfucker thought the card was worth more than your brother's life, but he never really quit T/N, he'll always stay." My favorite driver has been trying to sound reassuring, but he doesn't seem to be reassuring enough to calm me down. The strangled, moaning sound I make is unsettling, I don't even recognize it as my own voice, but that's the least of my problems as I finally wrap my arms around Trudy's neck, continuing to cry into her arms until I fall over I didn't even realize I was completely unconscious.

Tommy was cremated but I didn't even get to see him, just as I can't see Jakey until he comes here because another trip would compromise my health too much, already affected by the various trips previously made both by the fact that you have to be totally fit to deal with shifts like that, and I'm not. Adding insult to injury, I'm sure it will take longer to heal from the pain for this, if I could have seen him one last time I'm sure I could have healed sooner. I think it's cruel of life not to be able to see my brother one last time before he is finally cremated, Tommy has been destroyed and here I am, helpless, watching and not being able to do anything for him or for Jakey, it's like pour salt on an open wound.

It's torture and every time I think about it, I burst into uncontrolled crying and I have to stop whatever I'm doing, because the tears come down so copious that I'm blind, I cry so much that it seems impossible to stop, I only succeed when I have no more tears . It's suffocating, during the night I dream of our memories, during the day everything I do reminds me of him, everything I see in photos or read in books to complete my training makes me think of him and how much he loved to read and study with me, that intelligent glint in his eye every time he told me something he had read and learned, he had this amazing ability to draw you in and make you love whatever topic he was on, no matter what. I envied him for that, and I can't help but smile when I think back to our lessons together, when he corrected me with a demanding but gentle tone and a tug of hair. In everything I do I see him again and now more than ever I realize I look so much like him, I've never paid much attention to this aspect, I mean, I always had him in front of me I didn't need to think about these similarities, but now that I don't there is more these similarities haunt me as if they were ghosts. It's suffocating but the pain must be experienced completely and deeply to be truly overcome.

Despite everything I've resumed working next to Grace and spending a lot of my free time next to Trudy and her flying jewels, they distract me and help me, I thank them for their more or less visible but always present support. The pain of Tommy's disappearance is still there but I live with it, I have to live with it. Tommy won't come back, a thief took him away from me but he won't be able to steal my photos and memories, I keep them stored in a special casket, my heart, where they will remain as long as I live, safe.

Someone mentioned my brother Jakey coming here to Pandora to replace Tommy, I already knew about it and can't wait to see him, I miss him dearly, but I also wish I could see him again in better circumstances than these, Tommy's death is not the happiest reason to see Jakey again but maybe it's better than nothing because the letters we managed to exchange, with so much effort considering where we both are, weren't enough and still aren't enough.

So this was the first chapter, this is my first time writing to publish something, so please be kind.

@avatarbyamara I promised you, sorry if it's a bit slow but otherwise the first chapter would have been TOO long.

#tsu'tey x reader #Tsu'tey #Avatar #jake sully x sister reader

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stuckinapril · 1 year

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within the context of your post from november about people leaving and loyalty, how were you managing your anxious attachment since then for it to get easier? ive been struggling a lot with that and would like to get some advice 💗

A big part of it for me was switching from a scarcity mindset to an abundance mindset. Whenever someone was on the cusp of leaving my life, I really would mourn how cool they are as a person & how I might never find someone like them again. Which is technically true, bc everyone is unique, but it’s also just as true that they’re losing me. You have to constantly remind yourself that this is a two-way street. The moment they walk out of your life, they’re losing access to you too. And that just frees up space for other, more appreciative people to enter your life.

I’ve also gotten a lot better at differentiating a gut response from anxiety messing w my head. Whenever I’d get in my head about somebody’s actions, I ask myself “am I being reasonable to assume this? Is this coming from a trustworthy place, or is it just fear of abandonment wanting me to cling to this person right now?” A lot of the time it was the latter. So I’d just remind myself that I didn’t wrong anyone, and that if they spontaneously decide to leave, they’re not really someone I want in my life to begin with. I don’t villify them—I’m just at a point in my life where I’m far more interested in securely attached people than I am in ambivalent ones, and that’s something anyone deserves.

Another big thing is being okay with discomfort. I don’t think anyone can ever reach a level where they never feel strongly about what someone else does, especially if they’re attached to them. You just kind of have to tell yourself “this is uncomfortable right now, but it will pass” and just trust that it will. Literally just be okay w it. The moment I realized all feelings are ephemeral, negative emotion got so much easier to digest.

Start perceiving the other person’s position just as much as you perceive yours. Instead of only asking yourself “What does this say about me?” also ask “What does this say about them?” There were instances where I was so self-flagellating about someone being ambivalently available, I didn’t even realize what their actions were telling me about their character. Most of the time, it wasn’t anything good, and sticking around that person would’ve done nothing but harm me.

Lastly (and I know this is cliche, but it’s true) you really do need to like yourself to be okay with people falling out of your life just as quickly as they’ve fallen in. Every time you attach too strongly to someone else, you’re literally abandoning yourself. You’re making the decision to ditch the one constant in your life (you) for the most volatile thing out there (another person). By doing this, you’re restricting other people from ebbing and flowing—something all of us do naturally. This isn’t just about our emotions; it’s about the other person’s too. We need to let people move the way they want to. Anxious attachment goes against that in a lot of ways, even if it’s just a byproduct of other issues. Unlearning your anxious attachment is a win-win for everyone involved truly

#another thing that really helped me is I just didn’t have the time or energy to give lol #it really expedites these anxious periods for me #last semester I was up to my ears in hard classes / tutoring / lab / friends etc #that I just was like. i don’t have the time to be obsessing over somebody else #so ask urself how vacant ur life is without the person ur hyperfixating on #ask

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rmtndew · 2 years

Text

The Beauty of Thorns

(A ‘Beauty and The Beast’ AU)

Part 2

Summary: Belle lives in a cursed village and those who live there are forbidden to leave. Every year a Drawing is held and a man is chosen to be a sacrifice for the Beast. It’s the only life Belle has ever known but as her friendship with August Walker begins to bloom, she realizes that the Beast can be cruel and that life is far from predictable.

Pairings: August Walker X Belle

Warnings: Mentions of blood, curses, sacrifices. It’s not gory but very in line with darker fairytales.

Word count: 3,400+

Part 1

A/N: This was inspired by a post @littlefreya shared several months back about the Beast and Gaston and a conversation ensuing from it. She encouraged me to try my hand at writing this AU, so thank you Freya!

A week before the Drawing, there was always a great feast. I could never understand the merriment knowing that it would be the last week for one of the men in our town, but I understood it even less the year after August gave his own life. The night of the feast, I could barely eat. Once it was over, the tables were cleared and the dancing began. I had never been one for dancing but August had been the only one to ever ask me to dance with him. Some great swell of pity he must have felt for me to allow me to stomp all over his feet with my two left ones but without him there, no one asked. I sat just outside of the tents on the stone steps that led to our town hall and watched everyone else as they danced and laughed. But I couldn’t swallow down the lump in my throat.

Marybeth was smiling and laughing as she ran over to me. “There you are, Belle!” She took my hand and tried to pull me up. “Why are you hiding? Come dance!”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Why? Do you fear you won’t have a partner?” she asked. “John Paul will dance with you.”

“I don’t want to dance with John Paul.”

She continued to pull on my hand. “Come on. He’s a fabulous dancer. And you should try to get to know him better. He’s your brother now.”

“I’ve never understood how that worked,” I said. “How is he my brother if he’s married to you? Siblings don’t wed. It doesn’t make sense.”

She sighed and released my hand. “I don’t know. I don’t spend much time thinking about it. I just know that I am gloriously happy,” she said. “Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“I am happy for you, Marybeth. Truly. But…I cannot go a single day without thinking of August Walker and his sacrifice and yet you, who claimed to be in love with him, moved on so easily. You mourned for less than a month before you agreed to court John Paul and now you’re married.”

“Would you rather I have spent my time crying over a man who’s dead?”

“I don’t know!” I snapped. “All I know is that I’m angry. I’m angry at those stupid boys who caused this. I’m angry at that horrible beast who controls our whole lives. I’m angry that there is nothing I can do simply because I’m a woman. I’m unfit for the Drawing but I am also unfit for marriage because there is not a man alive that would stoop so low as to marry someone like me. I am constantly filled with so much rage I fear a single spark is all it would take to ignite me and I can’t even fathom the amount of damage I might do because of it.”

She sat on the step next to me. “Do you think I don’t get angry?” she asked. “Because I do. I’m just as angry at those stupid boys and that horrid beast as you are. I’m angry that I’m married to a wonderful, loving man that I very well may lose in three years' time when he must enter the Drawing again.” She shook her head. “You are not the only one who is weary and resentful but you must understand that we’re all doing what we can to claim what freedoms we do have in this town. For your own sanity, you need to find something that is yours, Belle.”

“I’m trying. It’s far more complicated than I would like to admit.”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “You will find it one day,” she said. “I truly believe that.”

“And for that, you have more faith than I ever have.”

She smiled. “I do have faith in you. You are destined for wonderful things.”

The following week, I prepared for the Drawing with a heavy feeling in my gut. I hated attending them but knew it was my duty. Not just to support Father as a town elder but to show respect for whoever was chosen. However, since losing August to the Beast the year before, the Drawing felt more real than it ever had. In a town where a dwindling number of people could leave, those of us who were cursed to remain there knew everyone else. We grew up together, went to school together, played with one another. There wasn’t a stranger among us. So I had known every single man that had been chosen in the Drawing since I could remember attending as a child. But August was the one that struck my heart the most and I wasn’t sure why.

Once we arrived at the hall, we took our seats and waited for the rest of the town to join us. But I watched as Elder Green locked the door, barring any more of the town from entering aside from Mother, Marybeth, John Paul and me. That heavy feeling in my gut from earlier returned as the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Something wasn’t right.

“Harold, what are you doing?” Elder Abbot asked. “The townspeople will be arriving soon.”

Elder Green rattled the doors, making sure they were locked, then began walking back towards the other men. “We will not be having a Drawing this evening,” he said. “There’s been a change of plans.”

“How so?” Elder Abbot asked.

“The Beast has made a demand. Not for a chosen sacrifice but for someone…specific,” Elder Green said.

I turned to Mother. “Can the Beast do that?” I whispered to her.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He never has before.”

“Who did he demand?” Elder Monroe asked.

All eyes turned to Elder Green but when he looked at Father, ice ran through my veins. “He has demanded…Marybeth.”

“What?” Father shook his head. “No. The deal is that we offer up one of our men. Women have never been part of the treaty. He cannot break that and demand my daughter!”

“And yet he has,” Elder Green said.

“There must be some mistake!” Mother spoke out.

“There is no mistake. the Beast demanded Marybeth by name.”

I looked at Marybeth and saw the terror in her eyes as they pooled with tears. She shook her head but didn’t speak. I felt like a hand reached into my chest and started choking my heart as Elder Green’s words began to sink in. I couldn’t envision my life without her. I had never known a day where she hadn’t been there and I couldn’t imagine living in a world where she was gone.

John Paul wrapped his arm around her protectively. “I don’t care. He can’t have her!” he said.

“We do not get to decide that,” Elder Green said firmly.

“Appeal to him. Ask him for a pardon!” John Paul insisted.

“It’s out of my hands -”

“Please! I can’t go!” Marybeth’s voice shook as she sobbed. “I don’t want to die. Please!”

I stood and faced Elder Green. My throat tightened as I fought back tears. “She’s not going. You can’t have her,” I said.

“I understand that this is difficult for you, Belle. I myself lost a sibling in the Drawing when I was around your age. But I also know that denying a request will not be met kindly. It will undoubtedly be met with further bloodshed. Bloodshed of innocent people.”

“She is innocent!” I shouted. “My sister has never harmed anyone. She’s kind and smart and caring. You cannot stand there as an elder of this town and behave as if your hands are tied behind your back and send my sister off to the Beast!”

“Lower your voice,” Elder Green said. “I know that you’re angry but you will still show respect.”

“You will not speak to my daughter in such a manner. She is allowed to raise her voice as loudly as she wants,” Father said. “And how dare you speak of respect when you, as the town leader, kept hidden a demand from the Beast? You lied to and misled myself and the other elders and I will not stand idly by and allow you to belittle one of my children and sacrifice the other.”

“Your feelings very well may be hurt, Norman, but I did not do any of this from a place of malice. If I had informed you earlier, you would have attempted to hide Marybeth. the Beast would have been denied and would come tonight to take as many as he pleases. Just because he took five men the last time he came into our town does not mean that that is all he would take again,” Elder Green said. “He could very well take half the town. He could slaughter us all in our houses. We simply have no way of knowing what the Beast will choose. All we do know is that somehow he knows Marybeth’s name and if you do not give her up, you very well may lose her this night anyway along with Belle and your wife.”

He was right. Not sending a sacrifice would put the whole town in danger, particularly my family. The fear that inspired in me was like none I’d ever felt before. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I glanced at Father’s hand and saw that he was still holding the white cloth that contained the rose for the Drawing ceremony. Slowly I slipped out into the aisle and moved towards him while he and the other elders were speaking. I was able to stand at his side without drawing any attention. My hand dropped next to his. And when he turned his head to listen to Elder Birch speak, I was able to reach out and take the cloth. Once I grabbed it, I moved quickly, putting distance between Father and me.

He turned and looked at me with wide eyes. “Belle, what are you doing?”

“I’m taking Marybeth’s place.”

“Stop it! Neither of you are going anywhere,” Mother said.

“the Beast will come for all of us if one of us doesn’t go. If I take her place, then this can be put to rest.”

“Put to rest? I will lose my daughter!” Father said. “There will be no rest if that happens.”

“Then what do you propose? What can be done?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll figure something out. Do not make this decision now.”

“If I don’t make it now, then I never will. I know the moment this rose leaves my hand, that either our town will be put in danger or the elders will take Marybeth without consent to protect us,” I said. “And if that were to happen…I couldn’t bear it. I have such anger in me already, if they were to take one of the few sources of love I have and cast it to the Beast then I will lose all humanity I have left.”

“Your bravery is not taken lightly Belle but the Beast requires your sister,” Elder Green said to me.

“How will he know the difference? She’s never gone into the forest, he’s never seen her,” I argued.

“I don’t know but we will not tempt him or make it seem as if we’re mocking him by sending the wrong person.”

I looked at Elder Green. “I already told you; you can’t have my sister.”

“You do not have a say in the matter,” he said, taking a step towards me. “Now give me the rose.”

I looked him in the eye as I opened the cloth instead. There was panic in his face as he took another step but before he could reach me, I grabbed the rose by the stem and squeezed it tight. I felt the thorns pierce my skin, cutting into my flesh with an itching sting. I didn’t dare release it until blood began dripping from my tight fist. Then I let go and held up my hand. Blood covered the palm and dripped down my wrist. Marybeth and Mother sobbed loudly.

“Oh, Belle, what have you done?” Father asked, distraught.

“I’ve taken Marybeth’s place,” I said. “Blood has been spilt. I’m the sacrifice.”

“You foolish girl,” Elder Green said. “You may very well have damned us all.”

“You already did that with your inaction,” I said. “And should the Beast allow me any words before he kills me, I will make sure that my final ones are of exposing you.”

Love makes people brave. Those were the last words August ever said to me. At the time, I thought he was foolish. But as I stood at the edge of the woods with the elders surrounding me, I understood. I wouldn’t have volunteered to be in that position had Elder Green not given in to the Beast’s request for Marybeth. But I stood there terrified and trembling and without a single regret.

Normally each sacrifice chosen in the Drawing would have four chains around their waist, each held by an elder as Elder Green led them into the forest. Because I was much smaller and had no intentions of running, there was only one chain and Father held it as he walked beside me.

“Do not let Marybeth feel responsible for this,” I said to Father as he led me into the woods for the first time in my life. “Make sure she knows that she did nothing to bring this upon herself. She didn’t do anything to tempt the Beast.”

“I will try my best,” he said, his voice shaking.

I kept my eyes trained on the path in the forest floor that was lit only by the torches the other men carried. “Let her know that I loved her deeply and that I know she feels the same.” My throat tightened with emotion. “I couldn’t have wished for a better sister than her. Please tell her that.”

“I will.”

“And Mother…don’t let her grieve herself to death. Let her know that she taught her daughters to be strong and to stand up for what was right and to love each other. That’s why I’m here,” I said. “Please let her know that. I’m doing this because of the love she instilled in us.”

“I…I will try,” he said, crying.

“And Father…let your grief first be anger and aim it towards the one who has caused this,” I said quietly so that Elder Green couldn’t hear me. “Make sure that he is held responsible. Had I a softer heart, I might ask you to forgive him, but he tried to put Marybeth in my position and for that, I want him to pay dearly.” I ventured a glance at him. His face was wet but the look in his eye was determined. “I do not believe he did all that he could to save her.”

“I don’t believe so, either,” he said. “But rest assured; I will hold him accountable.”

It wasn’t a far walk to the clearing where the sacrifices were presented and when I saw it, I knew what it was. There was a rock that served as a platform and around it hooks where the chains would be latched. My knees grew weak and nearly gave way as reality began to sink in:

I was going to die.

I tried to put on a brave face so that Father wouldn’t see my fear but I couldn’t hide it. I shook as I was led up onto the stone. Father relinquished the chain to another elder so that they could secure me while he gave me a hug. I clung to him tightly.

“I love you. I love you so much,” I said to him through my sobs.

“I love you, too, Belle.” His crying was as violent as mine, if not more so as he held me.

“It’s time,” Elder Abbott said.

Father released me reluctantly and took my face in his hands. I tried to smile at him. “I always dreamed of someday having an adventure,” I said, my bottom lip quivering. “Perhaps death will bring me one.”

“I hope so, my darling girl,” he said, then kissed my forehead.

He stepped down from the rock but made sure that he stood in front of me so that I could see him as the other elders used their torches to set the pyre before me ablaze. The fire grew quickly, lighting up the forest.

Elder Green stepped towards the fire. “Belle, you stand here not because you were chosen in the Drawing, nor because you were demanded of by the Beast, but because you refused to let your sister be a sacrifice. I hope that the Beast sees your intentions and will accept you in Marybeth’s stead. But if not, may he have mercy on us all for your decision.”

“No. May he not have mercy on you all, Elder Green,” I said. “Just those that were innocent in this.”

He didn’t speak to me again. He simply looked me in the eye as he took the rose that was covered in my blood and tossed it into the fire in front of him. The flames shot up around it, swallowing the flower in orange and yellow light.

“It’s done,” he said to the other elders. “We must go.”

I looked at Father. It was the last time we’d ever see one another. I kept my eyes on him for as long as I could before at last he walked away. Then I listened to their footsteps as they retreated back down the path from which we’d come until there was no humanly sound left except my own crying.

My hands and knees shook and my head snapped round every time I heard an animal moving about in the woods. I wasn’t used to the sounds they made. I’d never been close enough to truly hear them. But when I heard a branch snap behind me I looked straight ahead and screwed my eyes shut tight. Nothing so loud could have been caused by a deer. My teeth clattered together as I listened to the heavy footsteps of something much bigger than me approaching the back of the rock altar.

The Beast had found me.

I could feel his presence and the heat from his body against my back. Tears streamed from my closed eyes and I bit my lip, trying not to make a sound. But my body trembled, rattling the chain that secured me in place. I had wanted so much to be brave in that moment but I wasn’t. I was terrified.

The Beast stopped. He leaned closer. I felt his breath on my neck and then heard him inhale. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I-I’m your sacrifice,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

“No. You are not my sacrifice. You are not meant to be here.” His voice was a deep rumble that sent shivers down my spine. He circled around me, his fur brushing against my arm as he moved to look at my face. “I ask once again: What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

“I know that I’m not Marybeth, but - but I beg of you…please accept me instead.”

“Do the elders think I’m foolish? Do they think that they can deceive me?” He growled and I began trembling once more. “No,” he said. “Your father wouldn’t go along with that, would he, Belle?”

At the sound of my name, my eyes snapped open. They were still cast downward and I saw the feet of the Beast before me. I had expected four paws but instead found two. Two massive paws. My whole life I thought the Beast was more of an animal but he stood before me like a man.

“How…how do you know my name?” I asked.

“Because I know you.”

There was movement and then a hand came to my face, each finger with a claw. He put it under my chin and forced me to look up at him. I trembled as I took in his massive bearlike frame before finally raising my eyes to his face. Tusks jutted from his mouth and horns grew forward from the top of his head. And every inch of him was covered in dark brown fur.

“Belle. Youngest daughter of Elder Haywood. Sister to Marybeth.” I recoiled as he bent his face closer to me, but he held me still. “But not the sacrifice I demanded.”

“I’m here. My blood was spilled,” I said, holding up my hand for him to see the marks. “So you must accept me.”

He grasped my hand with his and examined the marks. “So be it,” he said. “We will have two sacrifices tonight.”

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #August Walker #August Walker fan fiction #Beauty and The Beast AU #Beauty and The Beast AU fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fic #The Beauty of Thorns

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saltedsnails · 1 year

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This is a personal piece which has not been done here before. I’d like to highlight that this deals with the recent S9V8 episode of RWBY. Themes that include suicide, imposter syndrome, savior/hero complex, and depression are present.

I’m just gonna say, at this point in my life, Ruby’s choice is relatable to me. No, I am not happy or ecstatic that this is happening in any regard whatsoever. However, it is relatable to me at this moment in time.

I’m in my 20s compared to her, what, 17 or 18 self? I’ve been spiraling these past few months with a lot of different things. My career, my sense of self and worth, my need to make sure everything is okay ‘because if I don’t nobody else will’. Frankly, these past few days I’ve wanted to be someone, something else just like Ruby has had dangling in front of her. It’s fucking lonely, especially as an over thinker who always has their mistakes and cringe-worthy moments in the back of their head. In fact, talking to someone on my healthcare team this week, I said “I wish anyone other than me could take my place. They’d be able to handle being here. I wish I wasn’t me.”

It hurts because Ruby, when I was 13 when this started, was my little light. My family unit was fractured, in a new place after moving from a place I considered my safe haven, with no friends. She was hopeful and bright, maybe a little airheaded and dumb and optimism shining out of her ass, but I needed that. I took on a lot of emotional legwork that I thought I needed to do because people relied on me during that time, mostly in regards to my parents and their happiness. It was a choice, yes, but a choice for my own survival because my survival depended on pleasing them. I don’t tend to get emotional over RWBY anymore because of well, a list of things too long to mention, but seeing Ruby like this did something to my 13-year-old self. It did something to my 20-something self too. The imposter syndrome, hero/savior complex, the inadvertent shouldering because over time everyone expected you to be the one that fixes everything because you’re “gifted and talented”.

And for me, I’m sick of it. Every day I have to deal with this ball of iron in my stomach and a scream so full of curses that you might as well call me Pandora’s Box. Seeing Ruby there, with no light in her eyes, kind of broke me. Because she’s what my little self needed. And Ruby is broken and full of pain, just like what little me needed Ruby to not be. It’s like a reflection and yes. I know that Ruby has been selfish and puts herself in the middle of things. I know. I know she’s brash and arrogant and things are oh so constantly about her, but you know what, right now I can’t seem to care. She’s 13-year-old-me staring right back at me, and wondering how the fuck we got here. All my hopes and dreams and wanting better for the future smashed to bits and pieces and willingly wanting out. I want to curl her up in my arms and simply let her exist. Is the writing execution of the scene “perfect”? It’s debatable to many. But to me, I’m taking this to mourn that even my hero and inspiration for the future can be weak, too. She’s not the young, naïve heroine that my teenage self needed. She’s like me, shouldering a lot that I put myself into in the hopes for a better future. I hope that Ruby’s story in this instance is treated with consideration going forward, but I am apprehensive. Both of “us” (13 and 20-something me) will be on the sidelines to see it. We can only hope that this, moving forward, will be treated with respect and dignity.

I don’t know if I can write any more of this. I’ll leave this here. If I get back to it, I’ll add another part.

Please take care of each other.

- 🐌

#snail speaks #rwby #rwde #**listen; I have not been alright in a few months. more so than usual.#**seeing Ruby’s eyes just… dead. that was me like 3 days ago.#**and no I’m not joking about that either.#**getting in touch with your inner child and teen is a BITCH.#**am I holding my breath about what will happen to her being in good faith? no.#**if it isn’t I’ll be writing a post more than likely

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oinkawater · 2 years

Note

So, your oikawa fics are honestly amazing! I was hoping I could request one based on the song heartbreak hotel by Abigail Barlow where oikawa is trying to woo the reader but she rejects him constantly. Thank you!

oh no it’s been so long since i’ve posted

i stopped watching haikyuu for a while and i kind of fell out of writing! but here i am, and i am back with big plans!

i’d just gotten over a breakup earlier this year so this piece is actually pretty relatable for me haha...

keep the requests coming!!

You stare wide-eyed at the bouquet of flowers that were held to your face. Your attention slowly focuses on the man holding them. It had just dawned upon you, after two long weeks.

Oikawa Tooru had been flirting with you. How could you have been so oblivious?

"Oikawa-kun," you trailed off.

Almost immediately, the hand falls to his side. His fist clenches over the stem of the flowers. “Have I misread the signs? Did I misinterpret the vibes between us?”

In all honesty, you had just gotten broken up with nearly three weeks ago. Oikawa came prancing into your life over a common interest when you bumped into each other in the gym. You enjoyed the company, if you were going to be honest.

The one thing you hadn’t intended on doing was leading the poor guy on. It hadn’t occurred to you that you might have while you were busy keeping your mind off of your ex.

“No, it’s not like that at all!” You quickly came to your own defence. You threw your hands up to shake them to dismiss his doubt. “It’s just that...”

As far as everyone knew, you had just woken up one day and shut yourself out from everybody else. You’d come into the gym and ignore everyone. You would go to class, do your allocated work and go straight home - the entire day without talking to anybody at all.

You just started coming out of your shell after you’d bumped into Oikawa. You’re even getting proper sleep again, and you’re eating as much as a normal college student should be.

He tilts his head in confusion. “What is it?”

You sigh, “I’m getting over a breakup right now. It’s only going to be a month.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Do you want to get back together with him?”

Just three days ago, you were still lying in bed crying over the loss you’ve been mourning over for weeks. But today was different. You’d woken up feeling better than the other days that followed getting dumped. Things just seemed to be a lot brighter than before.

“Of course, I don’t.”

He folds his arms over his chest and rubs his chin. He pouts his lip out as he goes into a deep thought.

Now you start to feel like you should defend yourself. “It’s not that you’re not a great guy, Oikawa-kun! It’s just that I’m not fully over my ex yet and I simply don’t think that you deserve someone who is unsure of their feelings right now.”

You angle your head in a way to catch his gaze. To your surprise, he only continue to look further down to the ground where it would be impossible for you to make eye contact. “I just don’t know exactly what I feel for you right now. I like being with you and spending time with you is always the highlight of my week. I just don’t think you deserve someone who is not sure.”

He hums and nods, seeming to understand what you’d just said. “Do you want me to take a step back?”

You like the attention, if you had to admit. You love the warmth he gave to you every time he was there to keep you company. It’s just that you are not sure of anything right now.

It’s only just starting to come back together for you.

How were you so sure that this wouldn’t end up with you in a fit of rage and a puddle of tears in a few months?

“I really enjoy being with you. I just don’t want to be the one that keeps you waiting when there are other opportunities out there. People who are ready for you.”

He shakes his head. “If you can’t say to my face confidently that you do not want me, then I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He grins, takes a step forward and then held up the flowers to your face again. “You’re too fucking good for me to let go of.”

You snatch the flowers from his hands and grumble under your breath. “Okay, fine. But we go at my pace, got it?” You raise an eyebrow fiercely. “I have too much going on and having a boyfriend is a lot of commitment that I’m just not all for right now.”

His lips stretch into a wide smile. “Anything is worth it for you.”

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the-trans-dragon · 1 year

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“People wouldn’t work if they didn’t need the money to live” is absolutely false for me (and many other people), I literally have to look at the floor when I’m walking around on my breaks at work because if I look up I will see something that needs to be done and I will do it, I love organizing things and managing things, but I will be scolded for doing work outside of my specific job description.

Stocking shelves with shiny things is absolutely delightful, it is so fun to focus on Placing Things Neatly and Stashing Extra Things Nearby Neatly—and perfecting the fastest way to do that so I don’t waste a second of time—and my autism just fucking loves stocking shelves. I want to work so bad, I just want to have an iota of control over what meaningless tasks I spent all day doing.

Some personal venting:

They won’t let me though, they scold me whenever I do anything besides cashier work. I went to the occupational injury doctor and management responded by never letting me work my old job duties ever again (I had a shoulder injury because we are chronically understaffed and I was working shifts alone that should have had 5+ people, so of course my body got worn down).

Capitalism isn’t there to help anyone besides a handful of oligarchs. They make cookie-cutter jobs and hire people to fill them because it’s easiest on management, who either is too lazy to try to design jobs around the employee’s personal skill set, or because they’re also trying to do the jobs of 5 people at once and don’t have the time or energy to prioritize their employees over profits.

I don’t like my job. I perform my duties as best as I can because I care about that sort of thing despite my best efforts to stop caring, but I do want to care less. I want to slack off, I want to take slightly longer breaks to steal a few minutes of my life back, I wish I could lower my efforts and spend more time resting or doing non-work stuff.

I’d literally work 16 hour shifts happily if they’d just let me loose to do what I am best at. I’d seek out criticism at every turn, happy to hone a skill set, regardless of how it is mundane, of how it’s a useless and meaningless job. I’d be happy to toil away all day, organizing, cleaning, breaking down cardboard for recycling, moving things around, stocking shelves, doing little routine maintenance tasks on broken doors or clogged machines.

“We’re understaffed because everyone is living off their Covid checks and they’re too lazy to get a job” first of all most people used their insultingly small check to pay bills and immediately used it all; secondly I am literally mourning that I am not allowed to do my previous job duties because I want to work so badly, and you refuse to let me be anything more than a sentient Self-Checkout (which I am bad at! My autism hates it! I’m not good with small talk, or being in close proximity to strangers, or using a computer screen all day when I’m not allowed to turn down the blue light) because I got hurt when you refused to analyze why all the new hires quit within two weeks (many of the new hires were very vocal about why they quit, such as “there isn’t adequate training” and “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing”).

I spent so many lunch breaks thinking about my job. I would study the merchandise to sell it better. I would take my lunches in the warehouse to stay up-to-date on where everything was.

I spent so much time designing a specific training schedule for new hires, constantly modifying it based on what new hires were complaining about (“I don’t have to clock out for my 10 minute breaks? No one told me that. This specific machine part needs to be cleaned daily? I think someone told me that on my first day but I’m not sure… This computer has a program that can tell me if we have something in stock, so I don’t have to go wander the warehouse for 10 minutes???? Seriously?”),

I had a whole system, starting with easiest and most helpful training for the first couple of days (how to clock in/out, where to park, who to ask if you have questions, where the bathrooms are, listening for pages over the intercom so you can hear if someone is paging for you) leading to more specialized skills over the first two weeks (noting the general content of each isle on the floor and in the warehouse, where to look on the floor for understock/backstock before going to the warehouse for more product, basic introductions to the chores everyone rotates).

Now I’m not allowed to show a customer where they can find a product, because “you’re a cashier now, let the floor associates do their job.” Despite us having so few floor associates that they’ve been pulling other cashiers from their register to help, and despite the fact that those cashiers are new hires who haven’t been trained to check the computers or find things in the warehouse.

Aldjksfsk I’m just tired lol.

#sorenhoots

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fablecore · 2 years

Note

I hope this isn’t overstepping but I was hoping for some advice since you’re one of the loveliest people on here with such kind and thoughtful words to everyone that passes by your corner but feel free not to answer if it is. In less than two months, I will be leaving for university and go abroad for four years, and only that time left with my dog. He’s been by my side since I was so young and is turning sixteen this year, so it’s almost certain I’ll never get to see him again.

Just the thought of it has me crying everyday since I won’t be able to come back until I finish my program because of expenses and so forth and what worries me even more is everyone else is too busy to really care for him because of their own work and school and even though I try to cherish the time we have left, in my mind, matter how hard I try to control it, I am already grieving him and it makes it so that I can’t even sit still without bursting into tears. More than that, it’s knowing that he will never understand that I’m leaving, why I am gone and if I will return, that he might wait but also that he will never see me again and the thought of him dying alone has me in tears because he has health issues that acts up and he has had fits when no one is home and it was pitiful even when we were there since there’s nothing we can do for him but wait it out while he’s crying. His health issues have gotten worse this past year and so it had already been a constant cycle of worrying about his death but it’s worse now because now I won’t even be able to sit by his side and comfort him when he needs it or take care of him, nor can I mourn him and he won’t know that I do love him and don’t have a choice, and he might keep wondering where I am. With so little time left, it’s gotten to the point I can’t go out to the bank or even to buy food because I’m worried even leaving him alone for a few hours. I had a trip recently and spent everyday worrying about him alone with no one else doing anything except feeding him and leaving him alone all day since they had work and didn’t come in until night and we can’t even leave toys for him to play with since he’s never been the type. What’s worse is he can’t walk now and it’s pitiful because all he can do is lie there all day.

All this just makes me feel even sadder for leaving him and the fact he won’t understand and won’t get it and thinks I’ve abandoned him the way I did before when I went to school a few years back and had to be gone for a year or two and when I did get back, he wouldn’t trust me. It’s so hard constantly imagining the pain he’ll he in when I’m gone because I know I’m the only fixture in his life right now that’s really fully there for him since no one else can be, and I can’t even enjoy this time left being conscious of our deadline together and watching him get sick makes me more than aware that this will be his reality soon and I just find everything so hard right now. I know I don’t have a choice and it’s not really my fault, but it doesn’t mean I can’t stop feeling guilty and being sad all the time

hi there, let me first wish you luck for uni. it seems to me a tremendous and scary endeavor to study abroad for four years without the option of coming back home. i think during these sort of turbulent, anxiety-inducing times in our lives, we often become blinded to ourselves, as in we see only our failures and shortcomings. you're a very brave person with an enormous heart, which is good because that's where we carry our loved ones for the rest of our lives. what ought you do now? i'm sorry, but... i don't know. it's the nature of the living to struggle with death, but i think it is far more painful to resist the inevitable than it is to embrace it. yes he'll be gone one day but today he's still here, and so are you, and there's joy in the simple act of just breathing together. love him as best you can. that's all you can do. when you leave for uni, cry as hard as you can. that is also all you can do. the years you had together still exists and will always exist, nothing can erase that. time will pass. you'll grow older. when you visit home again in four years, your heart will be so full carrying all the ones you love. if there is any advice i can offer you, it's this: let your love grow and grow, spreading outward, until it touches everything around you, and radiates with light.

#letters

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seaweedcycle · 24 days

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Eggs in one basket by Tele Novella is on repeat until i can feel myself again.

Can i find a connection outside of the physical?

I’m not clementine.

I don’t fuck people to get them to like me.

I love loving people, showing them they can love themselves. I give and give because i wish someone could give that way to me, be that patient with me. When i got that i felt unworthy because i was trapped in the past.

I’m not clementine.

I’m not anyone else but me.

And yet i think of myself like azula in a new home

Begging to be pet but hissing when done too fast.

To be loved is not the same as loving someone equally. Do i just love being craved ?

When the crave is gone do i just associate it with the feelings disappearing ?

I’m no better than a man.

I go through waves of mourning the idea of what could have been and being fearful of what is.

I see myself stuffing my mind with all the little things that were wrong

So the idea of losing something that COULD have been right

Doesn’t sting as much.

The truth is

I refuse.

I can’t live another decade wishing i could have approached things differently.

I said what i said

Should i have waited for a response ?

Not for as long as i did.

I can relate to Katie now, i used to be shocked as to why she couldn’t understand that you were overwhelmed by xyz but, she didn’t know, you didn’t say anything, then it’s bc you couldn’t, this time you chose not to. You wanted to see, if i was patient enough to wait. But, i feel her now, constantly sitting in a state of anxiety, waiting, for you to find your words.

Cannot.

Not i,

Maybe there is someone out there who is willing to wait, for a response, someone who is willing to brush it under the rug to move forward, someone who doesn’t give you the feeling of constant baggage and constant healing from triggers you tried so hard to forget.

Not i,

How sad,

And now, what?

Will i prove you right and give the one who wants to pour his soul into me another chance ?

Does that make me what?

Whoever i say i am.

The right thing would be to stay alone

But why?

Why deprive myself of an experience to prove what?

I live each day thinking it’ll be my last

How terrifying

Why would i want to be by myself just to say hey look

Independence

Solitude

I will experience anyone and everyone

Let them pour their souls into me.

I’ll collect each bit in jars and marvel at how beautiful they are shining bright and true to try and get me to see

See the truth

That i should pour myself into the jar too

So we can swirl and be at peace just

The two of us

Trapped yet happy bc at least

We have each other

Is it codependency ?

Devotion?

It’s you and me right, until death do us part

Even beyond that.

In this life and the next,

Loyalty.

Devotion.

Love.

Delusion.

The past.

#me #8:08am #thoughts #4/4/24

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moonlovesskunks · 8 months

Text

This is a poem I wrote. Warning for suicide.

It’s funny how it all turned out. There was nothing sad about it. I’m laughing, I’m laughing, I’m laughing so hard, because every tear has faded since then. You know what, I don’t have to mourn. Because nothing changed since you left! I can still remember you. I can envision you so perfectly. You haven’t left my brain. You inhabit it and torture me. It’s laughable how I live life. I was rejecting change just to keep you there. But somehow, in the end… It was all for none, wasn’t it? It’s laughable how you lived life. You were joyful and full of indescribable charm. But somehow, in the end… It was all a mask, wasn’t it? Hey, you know too well, humans can be terrible. We constantly hinder people from following their own dreams. That kind of thing is inescapable. I’m sick of living in a ghostly life, haunted by illusions, delusions, made from hopelessness. I don’t want to be in my goddamn life, made fool by simulations, creations, I don’t know why they exist. Will you, for once and for all, let me go, leave me alone, if I let go of you? My desperation is getting to my head, because I feel betrayed. You. You said we’d be there every step of the way, even if I was a little behind, you’d let me catch up. It was all a lie, wasn’t it? If that’s the case, well, “I’m happy” was a lie you muttered quite often. Congratulations, you backstabbed me worse than you did to yourself. I remember your voice, that now curses the world and everything. Do you remember what we did together? The life we led together? It’s so funny, how you listened to me when I felt pain. It’s so funny, how you were the only one keeping me sane. This is so sucky! Everyone is so happy! They’re spreading praise and joy, but I am here. I am estranged. This is your fault. I feel lied to, abandoned, like my body is being suppressed. It’s so selfish of you, to lie and betray me. I never could do anything. What is wrong with… You… your eyes… your smile… It was so obviously fake!I can see it! In every picture I have of you, you’re gritting your teeth. You’re going through so much pain that you kept underneath.

What is wrong with me? Was it friendship if you could never tell me what you went through? Was it friendship if I was oblivious and never dared to help you? This is my fault! If I said one damned thing, we wouldn’t be here. It’s too late. I should forget it all. You’re not in my life anymore. You never will be and I lost my one chance. Unless... I see! I see what I need to do. To unleash all my pain inside, and make up for what I did to you! This is my only opportunity.

You didn’t leave me behind, you kept walking, and now I simply need to catch up! We’ll be on the same path, and we can keep going down our track.

Hey, we know too well, humans can be terrible. But, at some point, each one of them is gonna accept their end. And I’ll do it early. So, with a swift unleashment, stemming from a great idea, I’m going to finally fly, like a bird in the sky!

#poem #poetry #poems #original poem #poems on tumblr #short poem #writing #write #writer

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pinkkvoid · 9 months

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There is a part of me that’s fueled by rage, by anger and it holds onto every wrong thats been done to me. But my heart can’t take it anymore, i look over everything feeling guilty, feeling shameful for holding onto so much resentment. Because truthfully, i know deep down this isn’t who i am, i hate that part of myself so much. “We’re all human, you can learn to forgive them and let it go” my heart whispers softly into my ear as my rage seems to simmer down. The words dance in my mind as i realize that it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Crying my eyes out for years, as i sat in my old room asking myself “ what did i do to deserve this?”i was rightfully sad, but accepting my pain and walking away from it was something foreign to me. Forgiveness was the key that i had lost when i was 13. I was around grudges, resentment and fighting for so long it’s become a part of me. Learning at a young age that being hateful was ok, that being mean was good. I was taught that no matter what, you had to be wary of everyone, no one cares, they all don’t care about you. For a long time, all i wanted was nothing but revenge, to hold onto the anger, when in reality that was something that hurt me so badly growing up. The feeling was so harrowing, it always left me feeling empty at the end of the day, but i ignored it. It’s something I’m trying to unlearn, this unhealthy habit that would constantly drag me down. Thoughts that kept me up at night when everyone else had already forgotten what they had done. I’ve sorted through all the hurt thats molded my heart, soul and brain and i just need understand that it’s done. I can feel the anger, release it all, but never come back to that, i should always walk away. Be at peace, sometimes things happen, pain is inevitable, but i can always walk away without a heavy heart. I seem to forget that my time on this planet is very short, living a life full of hate and holding onto this toxic habit is only going to make me miserable. I don’t want to be miserable, i don’t want to be living a sad and angry life. I want to be soft, kind and also strong, but let me be the version of myself that could’ve been sweeter in this life. The version of myself that i mourn every now and then. As i learn how to forgive and how to heal every wound that’s still raw after all these years. Let me enjoy my life, let me love every moment even if i cry, even when I get mad, i just want to remember that I’m human. That i can still move past every bad thing that happens, that even then at the end of the day I’ll fall asleep with a smile. I want to love my life, let me romanticize every aspect of it. Thats all i truly want, i want to be happy, it’ll take time as i slowly heal. But thats all i truly want, a beautiful happy life, please.

- i can’t live my life being so ruthless, i just want to be soft.

#poetry #pink void screams #poemsdaily #void poems #personal poetry #poems #personal

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automatismoateo · 1 year

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“Lost” my brother to born-again Christianity. via /r/atheism

“Lost” my brother to born-again Christianity.

I never thought I’d see the day, but here I am. My brother was the spunkiest, funniest, open-minded, and kind person in my life. He had gone through many phases in life, so when this one happened I thought it would pass, but boy was I wrong. Ever since he met his girlfriend (now wife), he’s turned into someone that I don’t even know. I feel like I am mourning someone who is still here. This may seem dramatic, but I swear I’ve never felt more disconnected from him. I tried for a while to get with the program, and would go to church and engage in Bible studies with him to try and understand him better. But sadly, this has taken a turn and I don’t think I’ll ever get the brother I used to know back. I think what makes me so angry is that the girlfriend hid her devout Christian beliefs for about 2 years before she got her claws in him. She was so fun for those two years, and now I also don’t feel like I know her anymore either. They constantly talk about how alcohol is a “soul-sucking” vice, how vaccinations are evil and used against us by the government (won’t even vax their baby), and how openly everyone around them sins and that it disgusts them. He recites scripture any chance he can get. Being around them has become really unpleasant, and I feel like they think I’m what they call “spiritually-dead”. I feel like I’m always holding my breath, afraid to say the wrong thing. Somehow the most non-judgmental person in my life, is the one judging everyone around us. I’m happy that he’s happy…. But this has caused such a divide in my family. His wife has completely isolated him from us and is honestly so obsessed with him that it makes me feel sick. Anyone who wants to get ahold of him just goes through her at this point. The holidays have also been harder ever since they jumped on their high horses. I miss my brother, I don’t know this person anymore. It almost feels like he’s going through a psychosis of some sort. Anyone else ever had something similar like this happen to them?

Submitted November 11, 2022 at 11:37PM by msbutterflyprincess (From Reddit https://ift.tt/uv8z9Ws)

#reddit

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multistoty · 2 years

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❝ Call me a fool, I don’t care. As sure as my heart beats in my chest, I will never lose hope. I would rather have you hate me forever than have you running around without a single feeling in your heart. ❞ [jessalyn @fireinyourblood to hope. to follow with our previous humanity off hope thread <3]

A slow clap had been the sound that cut through the air as unfeeling blue eyes took in the woman that she had once loved. Point one in the column of a true Mikealson were dramatics were concerned. Honestly, Jessalyn seemed more set on the fact that she would just turn back on the things that made her weak just as much as the others. Just as much as Klaus had before she had used her magic against him or Rebekah when Hope had woken up after the attempt at daggering her. Betrayed by family at every turn, it would seem. For once in her life since that fateful night, the slow drip of pain from all her losses dulled. There was no jealousy in her for kids like Nik who got to have both of their parents and be apart of this family Hope had had to savior enough to create. A job that constantly made her fail or made her feel that way. There was such freedom in embracing your monster side. Alaric wanted to be disappointed in her all the time even when she had broken her back to do everything to make him love her and it didn't hurt. He had every reason to now and that was a lot simpler too. Better to break everyone's heart before they expect you to give it a soft landing. This is what would always happen wouldn't it. She would have death stop it's dance in her shadow and watch those that she loved flit away as the years grew on. The other witches would keep aging as they were while she would shoot up no further. Keelin and Davina would grow far older and still look older than their fresh faced niece. Hope mourned the girl she had been no more. There was no whispers of murderer echoing in her mind after she had done what she had to her only other best friend, landon. The irony that she had not been able to save either of them and no fluently what their lips tasted like wasn't lost on her. Why did they want the sniveling little girl obsessed with saving the world? Hadn't they wanted her to have this confidence and be so strong? The one red oak tree had been burned down and with it the only thing that would endanger her life. There was no mistake or failure to worry over. "Wow, a pun. Nice touch. I told forgot that you were a poet with wild idealed eyes. Quite sad. I would really have enjoyed kissing you in this state. No awkward tremors or words. No world for us to sacrifice ourselves for. Because the world has shown no compassion to us. You have been hated with me since childhood. Why not prove those people right? It isn't often they are given such a thing. The woman that I was before wouldn't have put fear into a dog walking down the street. She was ruled by her emotions. And, now it's a beautiful numbness to finally not care. There's no points on what i did right or wrong. No embarrassment. Now, I just catch and release stupid mortals who don't understand what stalks around them. If you were anyone else, I would have had my fangs in your skin already for a less desirable means. I mean you still look as good as usual and i found the fact that you had wit enough to use our bond and find me as super hot.Though I am smart enough to have brought a vial of my blood in case you will be needing it. I am not planning on hanging out in the french quarter long. I just need some artifacts and information. And maybe a few sweets. to compel declan or not, I wonder. I tried to send the message to our family to leave me alone.

Though I should have known you and I enjoy missions of passion and love. And you want to bring back the broken girl who is besotted with you. The girl who left you a painting before she killed herself to save a supernatural world that once again wants her dead. Wants us dead. Do you know how much better I am at being able to protect you? Losing hope is what we all are bound to do in this world. Finally, I can understand all the wrongs that have been dealt by powerful people. Haven't you learned from media that the big bad usually is the world's greatest of monsters? There is no monster like me. I mean I have the dramatic appeal of someone like vader without the annoying breathing. I should be sexier to you given the books and movies we enjoy. All black and I have still managed to keep blood off me. It's not as easy as you think. I should really thank Elijah or maybe get his dry cleaner. The world was warned of me from the womb. That I am a harbinger of death. Before I even breathed, I was the child that will kill us all. My own father didn't want me until he was forced to acknowledge my existence after once again I was almost murdered. Nothing and no one can stand in my way now and I am smart enough to not attract to much attention unless I want too. There are a lot of people involved in malivore and making me kill my ex boyfriend. You don't have to feel bad about that. I mean it's not like bird brain was ever your competition. I mean I killed a beast who is famous for his regneration powers that should mean something Don't you see that I kill everything with my love. Even you turning! Hope Andrea Mikealson is just another murder to add to my tab. Wow, dad would be proud for once. We were robbed by the world. Why is it wrong for me not to fight the world back? I now have the time to hunt down everyone that failed us. Maybe your social worker. though I don't really want you to hate me. That would ruin a lot of my fun and really suck should I fancy attempting to feel again. It kind of tickles now like pain. So, these are not the droids your looking for and all that. I don't know if angels can be compelled. And that seems to take away some of your hero agency. Wonderful representation to lovesick girls everywhere. Lovers to enemy lovers is wonderful representation for people like us. Hybrids of sorts who enjoy kissing all kinds of souls. I happen to remember one of the batman villains saying be gay and do crime. Sounds like a great plan even if I am only interested in you. You'll come around eventually and I'll show you the world were we only care about the fun of the moment and not some battle or another. Could you imagine? Mikealson's putting themselves first. Of course, i would be the one to break the family too. I mean always and forever doesn't feel like a very strong vow when a family member can stab you in the back and put you in a trunk. Really, Aunt Bekah needs a new rental place. Or dad's credit card."

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petite-piicasso · 2 years

Text

thursday night june 16, 2022 9:39pm

if theres anything that living alone for these past twelve days has taught me is that if i’m going to “grow”, going to change, going to become a better version of me...it’s all up to me.

living alone is about facing my demons head on. the ugly, uncomfortable things about myself that i want to hide are all there and they unravel themselves and hold a mirror up to my face because i know no one is watching. who am i when no one is watching when i find myself to be clear out of anyone’s view. am i still kind and just, am i still sweet and polite?

i face all of these ugly parts of myself each day...the parts of me that are hard to love, hard to look at, hard to watch. i’m messy and don’t care for myself properly...i’m angry and irrational, and terrified and sad. i’m hurt and wounded so so wounded and i carry the hurt with me around like luggage. all this time and i haven’t set it down, given myself a break. i say if i don’t carry it how will they know how badly it affected me?

i mourn myself, mourn the girl i was before the hurt....why didn’t i just leave well enough alone...now i’m here and i feel like no one sees me. i feel like i’m so unimportant to the people i care about. for fucks sake all i wanted was someone to understand me, really see me for me. i thought i had finally found my people. come to find out they don’t really care about me. people just use you to get what they want out of the situation and then they bounce. they believe they can do better and hell i don’t blame them.

what happened to me? what have i become? just this angry scared person? constantly afraid that everyone is out to get me? constantly replaying the wrongs people have committed against me? “i have to keep count” my brain says, otherwise i’ll let it happen again....

i hope to God almighty that this place this little 712sqt apartment is the birthplace of a new me, the parts of me that are beautiful, the parts of me that are soft. i want my softness back. i want my joy for life back. i want to be proud of myself again. in love with myself. i want real confidence. i want to be happy and truly be happy not fake happy, not fake confident.

i want myself back.

#personal

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