#I'm onto the next stage of grieving

[warpedpuppeteer]

eddie: hey buck how does my mustache look?

eddie: buck?? where are you??

chim: who do you think gave you the sideburns to make that mustache eddie 😔

[cece693]

It Should've Been Me (Peeta Mellark x Male! Reader)

I don't know why there isn't much male reader fanfics for the Hunger Games, but I aim to change that. Especially when there are interesting characters such as Finnick and Johanna, but I'm playing it safe and beginning with Peeta.

Summary: M/N Evergreen didn't feel like a victor, especially when it cost the life of his sister, Katniss. Forced to wear a smile and continue living life as 'normal', the only person who seems to recognize his brokeness is the boy with the bread, Peeta Mellark.

M/N Evergreen didn’t feel like a victor, not when winning cost the life of his sister, Katniss. It was supposed to be her. She was the one with the spark, the one who inspired others to believe in something more. But now she was gone, and all that was left was him—a hollow reminder of what should have been. He knew he should be grateful; the Capitol's train pulling into District 12 meant he got to come home. But what kind of home was it when the only person who ever made it feel that way was dead?

Effie Trinket’s voice was a distant hum, urging him to “put on a happy face, darling.” Smile for the cameras, for the sponsors, for the charade of a victory tour that awaited him. He didn’t smile. He didn’t move. Even if he forced the corners of his lips upward, the emptiness in his eyes would betray him. The train doors slid open, and all he could do was stare blankly as the frigid air of District 12 rushed in, filling his lungs with the sharp scent of coal dust. The lenses of dozens of cameras zoomed in, capturing the haunted look that had become a permanent fixture on his face.

He heard Effie clear her throat nervously as she stepped out ahead of him, trying to drum up some semblance of a greeting from the sullen crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, our victor, M/N Everdeen!” Her voice rang out with all the bubbly enthusiasm she could muster, but the words fell flat.

As the Capitol’s cameras continued to click and whir, M/N forced himself to walk through the motions of the victor’s return. He let Effie guide him onto the stage, his limbs moving mechanically, as though they belonged to someone else. He could hear the rehearsed speech forming on her lips, filled with empty praise and hollow encouragement. He heard his own voice, flat and monotone, echo her words when prompted, thanking the Capitol for its generosity and the people of District 12 for their support.

But the truth was, he didn’t feel like a victor, and he never would. He was just another casualty of the Hunger Games—only, he happened to still be breathing.

The days passed in a blur for M/N Everdeen, though he barely noticed the shift from one to the next. Returning to District 12 should have felt like a relief—home, where things were familiar. But the place seemed alien to him now, like he was wandering through a ghost town where all the buildings and people were merely pale shadows of what they once were. Even the Seam, which always bustled with life despite its poverty, felt quieter, as if the town itself was grieving. Maybe it was.

At home, his mother had returned to the land of the living, as much as she could. She moved around the house with a new purpose, cooking and cleaning with a mechanical precision that betrayed the emptiness in her eyes. M/N knew it wasn’t for him; it was for Prim. Their mother clung to her youngest, constantly checking on her and making sure she ate, slept, and stayed warm. M/N could see her fighting against the hollowness, desperately trying to appear whole for Prim’s sake. For him, too, though he wasn’t sure why she bothered.

M/N hadn’t eaten since he stepped off the train. Every meal placed in front of him felt like an insult to Katniss’s memory—he shouldn’t get to eat, shouldn’t get to live while she was gone. His mother and Prim had seemed to silently agree on a pact not to let him waste away, though. If he refused breakfast, his mother would leave it on the table for him to find later. If he tried to hide in his room during dinner, Prim would seek him out, dragging him to the kitchen. They were relentless in their quiet determination to keep him alive.

Today, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get out, to escape the house where Katniss’s absence hung like a shroud over everything. He slipped out the back door and walked toward the edge of the district, to the fence that separated District 12 from the woods. It was supposed to be electrified, but the power rarely ran this far out, and he easily found a gap to slip through. The forest beckoned to him, promising solitude and silence—two things he desperately craved. For a few moments, he felt the faintest hint of peace as he wandered deeper into the trees, letting the thick canopy above dim the harsh sunlight.

But he wasn’t alone for long.

“M/N.” a voice called softly from behind him.

He froze, recognizing the voice before he even turned around. Peeta Mellark was standing there, a few paces back, watching him with that same quiet intensity he’d had since the day M/N returned. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t wearing that charming expression he often showed in public. Instead, his face was open, unguarded, as though he’d stripped away all pretense.

“What are you doing here?” M/N asked, his voice raw from disuse.

Peeta stepped closer, careful not to startle him, as if M/N were a wounded animal. “I saw you come out here,” he replied. “I was worried.”

M/N let out a bitter laugh. “You shouldn’t be,” he muttered, turning his gaze back to the forest. “If I don’t come back, I’m sure everyone would understand.”

“Don’t say that,” Peeta said sharply, the sudden firmness in his voice cutting through the quiet. “You don’t get to give up. Not after everything…”

“Everything?” M/N scoffed, spinning to face him. “What did I survive for, Peeta? There’s no victory here. I’m alive, but she’s gone. And now I have to pretend like any of this is okay?”

“You survived because Katniss wanted you to,” Peeta said, stepping closer again. “She fought for you—”

“I don’t need a lecture about my own sister,” M/N interrupted, his voice rising. “You don’t know what it was like! You weren’t there! I should have protected her, but I couldn’t even do that. All I could do was… was watch as she—” His voice broke, the words dissolving into a choked sob.

He turned away from Peeta, trembling as his chest tightened painfully. He had spent every waking moment since returning home forcing himself not to break, swallowing back his grief until it clawed at his throat, but now it surged forward like a flood. He didn’t know how to stop it.

“It's not your fault,” Peeta’s voice was gentle, and when M/N felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched but didn’t pull away. “You did everything you could.”

M/N shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “It wasn’t enough,” he whispered. “It’ll never be enough. She’s gone because of me.”

Peeta’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him in close. M/N’s legs buckled, and he collapsed into Peeta’s embrace, his sobs breaking free in jagged gasps. Peeta held him tightly, steadying him as he sank to the forest floor. He murmured soothing words, though M/N couldn’t make out the exact phrases—only that there was a calm, reassuring rhythm in the sound of Peeta’s voice.

For a long while, M/N cried in Peeta’s arms, clutching at his shirt as if afraid to let go. It wasn’t fair, not to Peeta, not to anyone, to have to bear the weight of his grief like this. But Peeta stayed, anchoring him through the storm of emotion until, at last, M/N’s sobs quieted, leaving him drained and hollow.

When he finally pulled back, Peeta’s shirt was soaked with tears, but he didn’t seem to mind. He looked down at M/N with an expression so full of understanding it hurt. “You’re not alone, you know,” he said softly. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

M/N shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to keep going.”

Peeta’s hand found his, squeezing gently. “One step at a time. That’s all you need to do for now.” The words weren’t a solution, but they were something—a fragile thread of hope in a world that felt impossibly dark. And for the first time since returning to District 12, M/N didn’t feel completely lost. He still didn’t know how to live without Katniss, but with Peeta’s arm around his shoulders, guiding him back toward the fence, he thought maybe, just maybe, he could figure it out. One step at a time.

[http-finnick]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫

finnick odiar x fem!reader

summary: after the war, your whereabouts are a mystery left with missing next to it. finnicks days are gloomy without his love as jealous friends burden him.

request: hi I love your finnick stories so much!! i really like reading them ♥️ i saw requests are open an was wondering if you could do a finnick x reader where its after the war and he thinks shes dead but later finds out she’s alive and he’s just happy and excited to plan their life together? thank you ♥️

I dont..miss her. it's strange. I- I want her here it's just..I feel like I've lost something..like I'll find it soon. It'll be in arms reach soon, just...wait. that's all. wait.

"you're grieving. It's denial" his head pops up to see a red-headed woman cross her legs, he almost forgot he was saying that all out loud

"she isn't missing, Finnick, she isn't at arms reach. She's dead." Annie moves her hair behind her ear before resting her head on her hand, staring at his expression, for a reaction to her statement

"some shrink you are." he scoffs, he hates how she's talking. she isn't dead. she cant be.

"...finnick" pity. her tone is pitiful and there's nothing he despises more. he struggles to find logic to support his calm as he fumbles from rage

"no body."

"what?" "no body. no proof. she could be alive" now he stares straight at her. her wide brown eyes flashing a sign of annoyance before being coated with a wave of seriousness.

"we went over this. you need to look at the facts-" "I am. no body." now he's getting defense, how could she say that? wheres her hope? she never gives up on anyone why would she give up on you so quickly?

"you called me a shrink. I'm not. I'm a friend and you need to listen to me as that. mourn her. do it now before you hold onto her forever"

.

she's gone. I know that now. I don't talk about her anymore, annie doesn't like the noise. mostly to myself when I want to reminisce on good memories that just end up with me crying in the bathroom like a pathetic wimp. sometimes I think to talk about her to annie but she just tells me to let go of her. but I can't.

the 5 stages of grief. Annie told me about that. is confusion one? I feel confused.

I sit on the island counter as I hear fabric on fabric, it's the dress of annie swiping against itself as she walks in to check on me.

"hey, you okay?" she leans against the wall, fiery red hair longer than ever as she awaits my answer

"uhh, yeah, yeah." brushing it off as I sit up, she isn't satisfied. he knows but it isn't the time.

"wanna talk about it?" seriously? he can? and to think she hated the noise

"it'd be nice" he answered sniffing slightly as he was already getting emotional

"what's the matter?" she sits down and motions for him to do as well, he hesitates, feeling more in control of the situation by standing and looking away, but, he sits.

"uh, I'm really am missing her a lot more" he watched her chew her cheek and he starts to feel claustrophobic. is he a burden? an annoyance to bring up the past? to dwell so heavily?

"what are you hanging onto so much?" her tone is soft but he knows spitfire when he hears it, he smiles and bites his bottom lip, he knew it was too good to be true.

"what?" shes clueless. utterly clueless and he's about to snap

"no it's just, wow."

"..wow?"

"you tell me to mourn but I'm never allowed to!" he smiles while sitting up, completely done. over her bullshit and looking for a fight

"well, mourning isn't clinging onto things fin." she hits right back, ready to get this over with and go to bed.

"what the hell is wrong with you? I- I have no one to fucking talk to!"

"you aren't here when you talk! you are somewhere else living in the past and you can't hear anyone when they tell you the truth!"

"oh- oh so what this truth?" he pushes her, ready for her to say, daring her to.

"that she's dead and you need to get over that." she strikes for the kill and it fucking hurts. he bites his tongue as she scoffs and tries to form a semi-redeemable apology that he knows he just bullshit

"no. I need you to get the fuck out." he waves his hand mindlessly towards the door as he stares at the floor, feeling blood pool into his mouth from biting his tongue a little too hard

.

two of the most important women are gone from his life and he only has a chance with one of them.

he wears dress pants and a button-up with flowers he picked this morning. he needs at least for this to work out.

he slides the bouquet onto the counter and lets his fingers run through his fluffy locks as he opens the fridge, trying to find some drinks they can have together as he scans the empty cold box.

he throws his head back at the sound of the rippling scream of his phone, he can't deal with post-capitol shit right now.

he swings his feet and grabs the telephone off the wall, stating his name and 'hi' as he waits

a woman chimes in on the other line stating herself and her authority as she starts to say things he doesn't really understand, numbers of times and dates, he doesn't do appointments or capitol press anymore

"wait- wait. I'm sorry, what?"

"for ms.l/n, when will you arrive for her?" he drops the phone as his throat closes up. they found her. they found her. they found her.

her body.

pickup. they want me to come to get her. his knees became weak and he slid to the floor, only now hearing her voice asking for him as it dangled next to his shaking body

he grabs it and puts it up to his ear, his voice cracking as he asks what date, time, and location to...pick her up.

he couldn't help but notice the way she talked about 'ms.l/n' in a slight past tense. he wanted confirmation for the longest time but it was bittersweet knowing she was actually gone. no fuck that. it's bitter it hurts like hell. it feels like the day he found out she was gone and panicked looking for her, though this time actually finding a body. he isn't gonna let Annie's "coping 101" infect his brain now. he is in pain. he feels like he is dying.

his love is gone. It's been months of her gone but now she's gone.

the train ride was silent as he just sat there in shock the whole time. he was lucky enough to get one today. he hopes they are wrong, hoping when he walks in it'll be someone else.

he stumbles into the hospital, telling the nurses about the call and about the woman on the other line. they tell him a room number and he floats there without question.

he notices how the room isn't leading to a morgue but rather a patient room. maybe it's full. maybe they found her with other missing troops.

and turns the door and cracks it open, he can't stop himself to shut his eyes tightly as he hopes shes is in a zipped body bag at least

he opens his eyes right when he walks in.

there. it's you. no doubt.

it's you sitting up. you're alive.

"y-y/n?"

"holy shit finnick..you're all dressed up for me?" how, how could you joke at this time? how can you joke at all? you were dead. he thought you died he-

he sprints towards you and hugs you tightly, tears flowing from his eyes as he smells you, feels you, loves you again

"I- I thought you died.."

"me too" you mumble feeling your own tears slip out as he weeps against you. you're safe.

"I love you, I love you so much" he cries out, not daring to pull away from you but you manage to lift him up just enough to be face-to-face with him. you kissed him softly, his lips familiar and warm

"I love you too"

you're thin and bruised. utterly beaten down by nature as your busted lip smiles at him, and he knows no matter how long you were lost you were the same old you deep down.

"let's get married. let's get married and move anywhere you want." he smiles, thinking of living with you in the meadow, alone, just the two of you.

"woah, next you're gonna say let's make a million babies" you giggle, pretending like you weren't about to say the same thing.

"not quite a million my love but close to it" he laughs and you fall into it as well. wiping your tears with your free hand had only now noticed how hard your other hand was gripping his

"I missed your laugh so much" he sniffs, tears still spilling out as he smiles at you

"I missed everything about you so much" you dip back in to kiss him and he goes right to it, hugging you deeply as he thinks about how soon you'll be his wife. soon he'll be your husband and soon you two will have a life. a real one.

an: I hope this is okay! I added Annie drama on accidentally lmao. I hope I didn't pace it weirdly and I hope I was able to catch how Finnick was feeling at least a little well. like he knew deep down she was alive but he was just mourning her absent presence. I hope you guys enjoyed it! mwah, love you so much!

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

The reaction of Obanai , mitsuri , shinobu , rengoku and giyuu are fine! It's alright if you just two of them or one though.

I'm sorry for not being specific and thank you for responding ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙

[A/n:You're fine, don't worry, and I took Obanai out since i know nothing about him, sorry. Thank you for requesting]

Summary:You die to save them

Type:Short Scenarios: Mitsuri X GN!Reader: Shinobu X GN!Reader: Rengoku X M!Reader: Giyuu X GN!Reader

Giyuu

He was in denial until he killed the demon

He refused to believe you actually died

He would quite literally go through the four stages of grief right there

And wend i say he was pissed, I mean it

He would get super mad, like start shaking

Then he'd realize the demon is dead so his anger would turn into sadness and he'd collapse onto you

He would cry and scream until the sunrised

Giyuu, would he be more distant

Before the hashiras knew what happened Shinobu teased him about being more distant

And he went off on her, the same day they all learned what happened

For once, Shinobu apologized to Giyuu

Mitsuri

She realized as soon as you didn't respond

She was still fighting the demon, so she turned around for a second and saw you laying dead on the floor

She'd call your name, completely forgetting about the demon you'd become her main concern

She'd throw herself to you no matter how bad it hurts

She wouldn't let go, pulling you onto her lap she'd do everything to see if your awake or not

Mitsuri may be the love hashira, but she had no more love for anything else in that room

She killed that demon in the most brutal way possible. The only love was the love for you, the one who is currently dead

Once the demon was killed, she collapsed by you, and just layed down against you

She would cry into your hoari until the Kakushi arrived and took you away

It was actually a battle for Kakushi to take you, since she wasn't down with you

But once she got back, everyone had heard. She was almost as quiet as Giyuu those couple of weeks she was grieving

Rengoku

He and the demon would be quiet for a second

Since it was Akaza who killed him, you would have collapsed against Rengoku as the demon ran

Rengoku would drop his sword and knees just to hold you

That's the only reason Akaza didn't die right then and there

Rengoku would try everything in his power to save you, pressing against the wound, telling you to control your breathing, everything

But nothing worked. You died in his arms and left him broken and angry

He held you close and tried to keep his composer since Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu were around

But he couldn't. They all could see him shaking, and Zenitsu could hear his crys and the quiet words he's was whispering to you

As you died, he would whisper sweet nothingness into your ears to give you some peace

Once he felt you fully go limp, he'd break , he'd start crying heavily, holding onto you like his life depended on it

It broke him, and the other slayers around him, Rengoku couldn't go home that day, he wouldn't be able to take it....

Shinobu

For once, her calm and happy demeter broke

You could see the pissed look, but it was also mixed with sadness

She couldn't bare herself to look at you, but she also couldn't look away

She's stared at your body with so many different emotions

Her heart would break when she fully processed your death

That demon definitely didn't make it out, not for a long shot

That demon was killed particularly instantly

Once she saw its head turn to ash, she sat next to you

Holding your head in her lap, she'd gently brush your hair as tears fell from your eyes

Then she'd wonder, why do the people I love keep dying in my arms?

She'd try to keep her composer, and even try to tease Giyuu again, but she couldn't do either

[A/n:Sorry if this is bad, I'm bad with writing about the death if a loved one 😅. I hope you enjoyed]

[spookysweettooth]

Grief aspect combo analysis

This combo aspect idea belongs to @superxstarzz they were kind enough to allow me to do analysis of their combo concepts and to make things easier I'm going to start out with aspects! I do hope everyone enjoys!

Grief is the combo aspect of doom and rage, I'm still getting use to the aspect and classpect analysis so please bare with me

To break things down, here's how I view what doom and rage are to me as aspects

Rage: negative, positive and neutral emotions. Mental stability, emotions in general, emotional issues, pessimistic, tough love, hard outer shell and distance, hate for lies, values the truth more than anything.

Doom: the dead, zombies, voices of the dead, seeing the death of the future, puppets, stitches, self destruction, loyalty, hard outer shell and slight hard inner shell, the physical body, control of the dead.

These are some key things I see for these aspects, do I know there's more to them than that? Yes do I care? No, this is key words I use to remember what these aspects are about. Now onto what I think the grief aspect could be and what sort of powers it can grant as a aspect

Grief in general is heard when you are grieving someone or something, grief itself has multiple stages as a result, sadness, anger, resentment, acceptance and forgiveness. Grief can be represented by stone like grave stones or by the tears of the weeping, The yelling of the angered, the glare of the resentful, the blank stare of acceptance and the smile of forgiveness. It can also be represented by rebirth, the new form of a person after grieving.

Grief: the aspect of grief can be granted to a person whom has gone through many stages of life or has lost multiple people or sentimental things. Often seen as people who became hero's of grief have to fully become hero's of it by fully understanding what grief is to them, once at God tier they have fully understood what grief is not only to themselves but also to the people around them, once realizing and reaching god tier the people of greif can utilize their emotions or the emotions of others for their benefit for the sake of the session.

Powers for the hero's of grief:

Depending on what class you are combo or not depends all on your powers but here are some I like as ideas for powers.

The voices of the hurt and the dead: as a hero of grief and it being a mix of doom I like the idea that not only can you hear the voices of the dead but can also hear the voices of people's inner pain begging for help or guidance.

Control of the dead: again I can see the doom aspect of grief having the ability to. Utilize the people of the dead for grate benefits! Making a army of zombies as you try to take on enimes and a okay idea right?

Emotion control: the rage aspect taking over the negative emotions of your mind you can use them to make weapons as a last resort or use your anger to make sharp lightning bolts attack your enime. As a grief player time is a soul virtue and it's needed more than wasted on people.

Emotion manipulation: while controlling the negative emotions of your teammates you create a raging hell of a team while they are full of anger or resentment or any negative emotions. Good luck doing that my friend

Healing bodily parts and the mental stability: if you are a healer class you can use your tears to seal wounds and use the bones of the dead to make thread and a needle for stitches, also using emotional manipulation to keep mental breakdowns at bay or taking on the burden as well.

@superxstarzz I hope you like my analysis and I hope I did this aspect justice, I personally may be a sylph of grief now haha! Please do feel free to suggest what aspect to do next!

[wet-paws]

_______________Grief🕯_______________

We know it comes in stages. Waves. Levels of understood chaos and misunderstood order. The reason is that feelings aren't there to be rational. Least of all when we're feeling hurt or sad or scared. Rationality is a practice and rarely one that goes hand in hand with grief, where we can tell ourselves it's this and not that..that we're over it until that scent comes walking by on a stranger in passing and lights the walls up inside us again. Pets, people,. Ourselves. We can grieve all three, and in all three, we see the same familiar stages.

Denial, anger, depression, and acceptance. Some add the step of bargaining after anger before depression. I don't think we would bargain about our great woes if we weren't depressed, so I feel that's a bit redundant.

We don't want them to be gone, to have it as it is, to feel the day in the loss of what we grieve. We're mad they left us, that the situation is what it is no matter What we have to say about any of it now, mad it's not our choice to fix it. Mad some things can't be despite all we gave. It also made them fragile. Depression in helplessness. Hopelessness.. the feeling of being absolutely stuck in loss or such a change that grief has come with the changes weight, which too is common. After a while, "Acceptance" sets in. I don't believe it's really a true acceptance of the loss.. more finding a way to accept the reality after building the idea it could never have happened that way in our hearts. Some wounds never heal, no matter how we rationalize it.

The takeaway from these things is that it's hard to fully let go of something. Even grief when we didn't make the choice to hold it in the first place or for as long as we have. It grows familiar like moss growing on a log in a way and we come to realize letting go of the grief is often the last of what we had to hold of what inset the feelings to begin with, making it especially hard to pull ourselves from bed. To have the water. To do the self health. The effort to grow and develop. To get back into the active choices and routines of wellness for us. To peel away the negative and allow sunshine to hit our bare bark again.

As with so many posts before this, we come to the stages of this one to remind you it's worth it. To battle the grief and loss. To battle those heavy weights, keeping your soul down in bed, days on end. It's okay to take the time you need in loss, even of yourself. It's a scary place to be, relearning who you are. You don't realize when you let someone or something go, how much of you may be threadlocked onto that concept and unravel as it puts space between. It will take strength you have and don't believe anymore. It will take courage to believe tomorrow has a better and better chance of being a good day again eventually. It will take believing in you to find the fight, but as before, for what it's worth, I believe in you. Human to human and for no other reason than wanting to and believing it possible for you to win again in your life. For things to be good. For you to be okay. You deserve to have you. All of you, before and above all else, no matter what. That takes time and finding energy in willpower to eat and hydrate and find peace in fresh air again. To make the moves you need to for your soul survival. You will always have this space and me as long as I'm here cheering you on and making posts like these to remind you of these truths in your fight to heart you aren't afraid to hold again. A sense of self.

You matter. Today and tomorrow and yesterday and next week. You matter, and you are worth seeing the days you haven't yet and healing the ones that hurt to get where you are to have better. You are worth better inside yourself. Worth more than the tear stained stuffies and soggy hoodie sleeves. Worth more than the gray cloud constantly reminding you how empty and devoid of light it all is.. I assure it's only that way in a 3x3 foot space, pouring down while it's pouring down. The rest of the world is awaiting your ready in warmth, color, and abundant acceptance in so many avenues you've not yet even seen.

Grief can, in some measures, ache without defeat, but we are still the ones to carry it, however seemingly endless. We are the ones in control of what we hold. We need to have the cornerstones of wellness to maintain, hold, and carry on of it, but we can and we should! There is so much more to our world than the breakups, the loss of someone/s dear. The changes we have to face in our own lives. Fluids, Sustenance, Fresh Air, time, patience, and the consistent effort to do what we need for us, even on a Primal level of the basics. Especially water and air. The rest will follow if you feed yourself as a plant. As organic as you are. Water, air. Soil. Sun. Eventually a little nutrient in some foods,. Maybe snacks at first.

I know you're tired,. Tired of being hurt. Tired of being mad. Tired of being unsure or worried or even beyond all that, just depressed it's the way it is no matter why it is. Dont forget sleep. Ypur body wants to sleep, let it. You'll be amazed how little by little a nap can at least allow you the desire after enough to make you question the coldness of the floor. The brightness of outside. It'll take a bit for anyone to feel ready coming out into the world again after it all just came down around them for so long prior..

Remember to be soft with yourself. The toothpaste will piss you off. The labels in markets. The cars license frame in front of you.. it's not against you. It's grief. It's the reminders. The aches of remembering in a time you're plenty well remembering.. breathe. Take a few minutes., step aside of it all a bit, and just breathe. No action is worth a spontaneous emotionally charged reaction but love.

You will grow again. It's hard to believe above all else that feeling in you isn't dying. Just a very terrible ache of growth you didn't ask for. You didn't consent to, and you have to heal from. You will smile and laugh and play again. You will love again. You will feel like you as you should. You will be whole for you if you do the work on you and for you. I promise it's true. You are worth having as much of you as life allows you to maintain, and as much as you can discover to build on and help maintain it all.

The sun will rise and set and rise again.

You are making an active choice to be here and see that. To feel that. To be a part of that. Don't forget you're here for you too. That people love you. That I love you just for trying. Just for being human and wanting to be whole in that. Just for wanting you to be okay with you. That is a Huge undertaking. A life project for some. Many of us hold this and think little of the development, but the energy, time, and effort that goes into grief is large, as are the emotions felt within it. To overcome that time and time and time again is brave. It is courageous. We don't realize it in the time, but it's a battle to keep or get back to ourselves in that distress. That takes real work on ourselves to do that and with any level of success, but after enough time, it does begin to develop again. To feel tangible. Real. You begin to realize you're eating more. Talking more.. missing some of your favored activities enough to branch back out or even consider new activities you might like if you're under self rediscovery.

It's so hard to keep ourselves. Who we are as much as whst we are here. It can come and go and come back. It can hurt. It can heal. It can grow and decline. But it can also always hold possibility in what it Can do. Do the work to make it something good for you. To be here for you in a way you're happy again. Whole for you again in any sense you're able. For you. Not for anyone else. You matter in your life. To me if you need an example., but you should find matter for yourself more than others. You're the one living in you. Fighting in you. Surviving in you and you will again. I believe it. I believe you will again.

You need to start believing you will again, too, but don't force it. Just try to give it your best. No one, including you, can ask more of you than that.

___________________🌿__________________

[Friendly reminder that this tag 📖 in my tags list will ALWAYS lead you to Positivity. Self Health, Internal Growth And Development, Truthful Reassurance, Tools to learn HOW to Fish, and not just more fish in the now.. it is not monitored who shares or uses these posts. These ones I write myself just for all of you. It's for all of us. Share it. Use it. Recycle it. Chew it like ginger gum. For an intrinsic boost of wellness.]

[blackbackedjackal]

When talking to a client about a pet memorial, how do you usually go about it? Like sending/receiving the pet's body, figuring out payment, knowing what the client wants, etc.

I'm planning on getting my cat taxidermed when he dies, but I'm unsure how to go about it. What to ask, what to say, how to send him, all that stuff.

(If you still answer, ask. Please, and thank)

First, I send my condolences. Losing a pet is extremely difficult, and I want the owner to know that this is a service I provide for folks to help with their grieving process.

Second is to ask the owner what they would like done with the remains and provide a quote/estimate based on the work I would need to do. I currently charge $50/hr for active work (skinning, fleshing, tanning, breaking in hides, etc.) and can usually estimate that on the species and size of the animal. The only other fees added are for supplies used. Payment is not required until the pet is safe in my freezer. I ask for a 50% deposit up to get started, and the rest may be paid at the owner's convenience.

Third is shipping or scheduling a pickup/drop-off if the owner is local. I have a document I send to owners on how to handle shipping and will answer any additional questions if needed. Shipping can be very expensive, so I don't require any payments until after the pet has arrived and when the owner is ready.

Once the pet is safe with me, I try to update my clients on progress every 2-8 weeks. There's a lot of inactive time (soaking in degrease baths, pickles, etc.) so there's generally not much to update the owners on until a processing complete and onto the next stage. I try to get pets back home within 3-6 months assuming there are no delays, but the work can be very unpredictable, and it can take up to a year for processing to complete for more complicated projects. I've admittedly been behind on commissions due to the passing of my own dog and other life things, but owners are always welcome to message me for updates!

[a-better-hope]

The way forward from heartbreak

The way forward after romantic disappointment is hard to see in the immediate aftermath. After much prayer and seeking God, I compiled statements that helped me define the way forward. They were helpful for me; maybe they will be for someone else. If I can prevent even a little heartbreak, it will be worth it.

I forgive them. I forgive myself. Pray for them and ask God to bless them with healing or whatever they need the most.

I'm sad it ended, but I know I will be okay. Time and healing. You'll get there. It may be hard to see right now, but hang in there and you will look back in wonder at how far you've come.

What happened doesn't define me. I refuse to see myself as rejected. God loves and accepts me, and there is no higher love than His.

It wasn't all bad. There were good things, too. It's okay to remember the good things about the relationship. Recognize those were real moments and the feelings you had were real.

It's healthy to let go when things end. Hanging onto something that ended is painful, and what you're holding onto after it ends is not a person or an experience but rather the pain of loss. Letting go is freeing. Let go as many times as you need. Say it every day 100 times. Don't play the game of “what if I did this or that instead.” It won’t change the outcome.

I am grateful for what we had. That book closed, and it's time write a new adventure. It might be too early to think about the next chapter, so dwell on feelings of gratitude for the good that came of it and recognize something was lost, but feeling stuck is not permanent. You will move from this place to something better.

I'm allowed to grieve the loss, but I won't dwell on it forever. You will think about it from time to time (a lot at first) and then eventually you won't. It will become a scar, and scars are tougher than regular skin. You will be tougher, wiser, smarter.

I will give myself time to heal before moving on. Healing is your main job right now. Put effort into it. Live your life. Do what you need to do, but don't expect to feel like Superman. You're going to feel fragile for a while. God heals, so avail yourself to His healing touch. He wants to love you, especially now, so let Him.

I will take time for myself before attempting something new. Enjoy being in your own skin again before trying again. Let things settle. Right now, you may not feel like yourself with a new person, and that's a difficult way to start something new. When you feel like yourself again, you can explore a new adventure. If you're still looking for that person you lost in everyone you meet, you're not ready. Grieve and heal first.

I will learn from this and take it into a future relationship. Learn the lessons. Grow through the pain of loss. The bravest heart is the heart that's been hurt but decides to love again.

I will be fine on my own until then. Being with friends and family is important, too. You don't have to live life by yourself, but you shouldn't be in a relationship until you're ready. When you're ready, you'll know. The person God has for you isn't going anywhere.

I won't have to chase the right person. And I shouldn't feel pressured to move forward with someone. It's okay to take your time. It's a big decision. Make it prayerfully. Let God lead.

God makes it clear where I stand with someone, and whether they are the one. It's my job to listen. Stay close to Him, especially in the initial attachment stage of the relationship. You don't want your heart to get ahead of Him. A key aspect of the Christian walk is waiting, which is getting close to God (being knit together with Him). It’s a good time to listen. Try not to complain about your situation. Stay close to Him, and He will provide the way forward. Jesus said He is the way, so follow Him.

The right way forward will give you peace.

[yearningaces]

Semi addition but moreso written for me in just sharing it with yall

Reader is described as strong, aggressive, grieving

With everything going on rn I've been hitting stages of grief. And the thing is, I settle on anger for the longest darned time and I know it. But I have nowhere to healthily execute that aggression so...

I do heavy labor. I roll roundbales of hay bigger than me through the field by shoving my entire body weight against it, I drag tree limbs larger than me into a giant pile, I push the fourwheeler while it's turned off, and if I'm lucky I'll have a buddy around to wrestle with and we get downright mean about it I have lifted the guy up into the air to throw him down onto his back

Humans need to get out energy and aggression

And while folks who enjoy sexual activity use that as stress relief I'm asexual, and hate the thought so I just toss my weight around until I can't anymore and it helps.

So how would that translate over?

Because Nyx loves his human so so much but his human is still... Terrifying.

Let's just word this out real quick for my own peace of mind

~

You're angry. You're pissed off and it comes from grief over so many things but you are so angry. And so you're stomping around the house, trying to find an outlet for that aggression.

It starts with meat. If you tear into it enough you might feel like you're tearing certain people apart. It helped until you ran out of food and got full.

Next you're outside, tossing whatever heavy limbs and rocks you can find that you have to exert energy to throw, enough to leave your lungs heaving but you're still raging inside to the point you want to just find someone to fight-

"Honey?" Nyx's soft voice rings out with a slight shake as he takes in your heaving form, eyes ablaze with hatred. His ears are dropping backwards, his form trembling but he's trying so so hard to be here for you because his sweet human isn't acting normal so something must be wrong so he wants to help... You're terrifying right now though, especially when you whip around with a deep growl and a snarl.

Nyx steps back. His heart is racing and his mind is running miles a minute trying to remember anything and everything he's learned about humans, about you.

Humans don't usually make those sounds but it's not unheard of if they're worn down but still emotional. Or too emotional to talk. It's not a social thing that's planned or really discussed but it certainly is something.

He can feel every nerve alight in him, millennia of instincts kicking in to brace him, to keep him alive, to flee. Especially when you take a step towards him, still huffing and heaving with labored breaths and harsh sounds rising from your throat.

You're his sweet gentle and beloved human partner but you are the most horrifying creature because this is nature for you. And his nature is to escape from creatures like you.

Nyx almost falls to his instincts, even though he knows in his heart it would break you down, he wants to flee. His hind paws tense as if he's about to spring like a wound coil-

And you're on your knees in front of him. The fire slowly draining and replaced with such heavy sorrow. It leaves Nyx reeling because he doesn't know what to do now. But you're silent, tears gathering in your eyes as you look down at him, and Nyx understands why humans are so ferocious. They're so heartbreakingly emotional. They love so viciously with clamped fangs biting into what they love to keep it with them, that when something leaves regardless of everything they do to prevent it- it breaks them from the inside.

"Oh... oh honey, c'mere." Nyx's voice is soft, soothing as he watches his human collapse forward into the bunny-boy's far more frail form. His arms wrap as best the can around you, trying to soothe, feeling your own grip around him at first like a vice, desperate, trembling... But it softens, a limp grip as if you've given up. You desperately need the comfort but you no longer have the energy to keep him close.

It's alright though. He'll just have to hold you tighter for now. You've lost too much already and he would never dream of leaving his partner. His dearest, open-hearted and wounded-hearted, love.

Ok ok enough of humans being scared

I want a monster that's scared, that's the prey in the relationship, that's instincts are so different it makes you realize just how scary you can accidentally be

Reader is described as strong/heavier/ carnivorous/a predator (keep in mind though, this is a human being compared to small rabbit-like creatures so regardless of your stature it applies)

Reader is referred to as 'he' once in passing, beyond that everything is up to interpretation

I want a monster that's intimidated and horrified by humans because humans are a predatorial species, specifically pursuit predators. We just keep going- humans do insane shit for fun or adrenaline, or because it's a dire situation and their brains have hit fight/flight and at that point has dropped any barrier of "can't do that, too much effort would hurt the body" and will lead to humans doing insane feats in crisis mode, even if it damages their body. Once the adrenaline wears off they're gonna feel it but essentially at least for a short time a human is capable of hulking out.

And I want you to imagine with me, say a rabbit monster, small, quick, agile. No excessive strength because they're made to evade which means being light and being fast.

A bunny-boy if you will. Triangled nose that twitches when he smells things, upright ears that when relaxed lean back against his head. Fur patches on random body parts like arms or legs or along the spine from his hair to his hips where the humanoid body morphs into a pair of anthropomorphic rabbit legs. Springy lad.

I'm calling him Nyx

And Nyx adores his human partner so much. You.

He just adores you, you know that post about the rabbit with his gf that's 3x his size? Similar case but this rabbits got a human for a partner.

And whenever he brings you home to his families burrow, you note there are many burrows of different families around here. Almost only burrows. As if it's intentional.

Now, in your eyes you're an average human. Maybe a bit strong when you need to be, but your not the strongest or fastest or smartest. Even if you're very capable you're not the best of the best, and You've told Nyx this whenever he goes on his tangents about being the lucky guy to score such a capable partner.

But you realize just how different you are once he brings you inside and you have to duck down to get into the burrow. When you see the children and the adults alike freeze as if something truly terrifying has entered their home.

You have to soften yourself right now, overly deferring to Nyx in a way you never thought you'd need to just so this family of prey monsters will feel safer. Strange isn't it?

And Nyx -happy as can be- drags you along, not ducking, not concerned, not out of place, brings you to the kitchen to meet his Da and his Ma. His Da is at the stove cooking something a bit clumsily as if there's something he's unfamiliar with as his Ma is setting the table with one spot given the most room. And they both freeze for a moment, noses twitching, taking you in before it's Nyx's Ma that finally takes the plunge and greets you with what you can clearly define as nerves.

No one else seems to notice though, or remark on it.

You'd followed your little Nyx here wondering how his family would threaten you about 'if you ever hurt him' the way human families would, but these creatures seem overly appeasing. Nonconfrontational.

Eventually you ask Nyx's Ma -as she seems to be the one in charge- if she has any questions for you. She takes a breath, looking back to her own partner and mentally decides to ask something. "What sort of human are you?"

It takes you some time to understand her words, but Nyx chimes in before you can. "A loyal one." And the way his gaze flutters up to you, so enamored and adoring, his form leaning into your side where your arm automatically wraps around him. It must be comforting with how he sinks into your hold with a content little sigh. You never did notice how fragile he is until right now when it's so obvious around his families home how out of place you are.

With a tilt of your head, you feel the need to experiment a little. With one hand you grip onto his shoulder, supporting the weight easily and with the other hand you grab onto his hip. And lift up.

He's light- so, so light. Weighing nothing to your heavier body that's built for heavier task than the rabbits swiftness and agility.

Nyx is having the time of his life, delighted at the curious display you've demonstrated, his family has their own shock to get over- as do you. With such care, you set him back down again with the absent minded remark of- "You weigh nothing, hun... I gotta feed you more." Because to you that's what it means, he's not eating enough.

To the families confusion, Nyx clarifies for you. "It's a human thing. They feed others they care about, really big ordeal food is. Share it with loved ones, make it to express care or appreciation, even old phrases like "the way to a humans heart is through their stomach", it's a big deal!" And he's so delighted to explain something you never really thought about too much yourself because it's instinct. Natural. But there's something so sweet about how he describes it and he is right, so you nod your head, holding him close once more as he turns to you. "And I promise I'm eating enough, I'm just made to be a lot lighter than predators like you." His tone is soft and comforting as if intentionally trying to appease your own instincts you've never given much thought of.

With a tilt of your head, you shrug and agree but mentally swear to give him bigger portions in the future regardless.

He leaves to help his Pa in the kitchen, and you're left to entertain a family of rabbit-like monsters. It's surprisingly easy when the youngest are released and immediately ask you to lift them up like how you did Nyx. So you do, one after the other, occasionally giving a little toss where they're caught immediately once more.

They're so weightless and tiny, almost like your stuffed animals when you were little. But they squeal and giggle like they've never been lifted so easily before. As if it's impressive.

You chatter aimlessly with the older rabbitesk creatures, speaking of how you and Nyx met, what sort of accommodations you've worked out to live in a place suited to both you and your much smaller companion, whatever topics come to mind. Though you seem to be the one unintentionally driving the conversations, no matter how socially adverse you feel, or how confident. The floor is yours, practically given to you without any trying to speak over you a single time.

When you sit for supper you note that you'd been given a different plate, the plate that Nyx and his Da had been working on. A clumsily cut, undercooked steak. Not wanting to be rude, and knowing red meat won't hurt if it's not entirely cooked through, you tear into it.

You don't quite notice any of the stares until you hear your little Nyx voice his thoughts.

"See? I told you, eats like a carnivore he does!" His voice beaming with pride. You glance over with a confused expression only to really notice how every other rabbit creature sitting at the table is staring at you with different expressions. That's when it really kicks into your head your plate is the only one with any meat.

You give a sheepish grin and instead eat one of the steamed slices of eggplant that's on your plate.

Strange isn't it? To be human and to be viewed as something dangerous... But I suppose you are, just not in ways you'd notice because it's so normal for you.

Not to them it isn't, not to those monsters that are more prey than predator.

Isn't it just so strange?

[daintymechas]

Update: It's taken me a few days to work through the grieving process in order to write this properly. Unfortunately, Little Foot has passed away. On July 21st @ 0050. Just a day and a half after taking her to her last vet visit.

I already wrote a eulogy post dedicated to her on my FB for friends and family to be made aware. But I'm writing here to dump my more personal thoughts that I don't want to burden them with. It's just... very traumatic stuff. So, TW: death of a pet

Since the moment I noticed the signs that Little Foot was at end stage renal failure, I knew this was going to be difficult. But this hit me so goddamn hard.

Since my last post, her condition had gotten worse. I did manage to get her to eat a little bit. I had some leftover wet food in paste form and mixed it with water to help her eat more comfortably. The following day, I begrudgingly had to go to work. That was the longest 8 hours. Whenever there was a lull between tasks, all I could think about was getting back home. The idea of walking into my apartment and seeing that I was too late... that would devastate me. I wanted to at least be there with her in her final moments. It's the very least I could do for her.

When I finally got back home, I was relieved somewhat to see she was still breathing. I say somewhat because her health was still in rapid decline, though... At that point, she wasn't able to move from her torso down at all, as if she was paralyzed. Her body temperature was lower, too. Every now and then, she'd struggle to raise herself up on her front paws. At first, I thought that her doing that was just her fighting to pick herself up to eat/drink. So I braced her up, grabbed her water bowl, and brought it close to her face to help. And that's when I noticed her front paws were slightly twitching. She wasn't fighting to get up. She was actively having seizures. Fuck. I lost my shit at that point. I wish I had picked up on that sooner. This is really fuckin' bad. At this rate, I just knew she wasn't going to last much longer.

I decided at that point that I was going to lay by her side. I grabbed a pillow and large blanket, tucked both her and myself in, and just comforted her by talking to her and petting/kissing her. We laid like that on the floor for 4 hours. At some point, exhaustion finally got to me, and I dozed off. I don't remember how long. When I woke up, she was still breathing but didn't seem very responsive when I would pet her. I remember wondering if she could even hear or see me. It was so hard to tell. I stayed there for another 30 minutes, monitoring and comforting her. Finally, I sat up and told her, "I'll be right back, sweetie. I promise. Okay?" and kissed her forehead before leaving the room. I took that moment to go outside to smoke and decompress real quick, trying my best to calm down. After that, I came back inside, laid down next to her, and while grabbing onto her paw and stroking it, I vividly recalled saying, "I'm back, sweetheart. I'm right here. It's okay."

And that was the moment... right after I said that. What happened next is something I'll never forget. It's burned into my memory and still fuckin' haunts me... She tilted her head back slightly as if to stretch. Paused. Then she jerked back with an exhaled wheeze... and she was gone. I can't tell you how many times I've cried throughout this whole process. I've honestly lost count. However, this was the most intense bout of grief by far. I broke down in tears. Went into shock. Deep down, I rationally knew she had just passed away, but my mind was still functioning in full denial mode. All that could escape my lips with was "No no no no" and crying out her name over and over. There were moments... where she exhaled afterward in spurts. 6-8 times total. Each time, it terrified me. But I thought she was still there... I couldn't see her chest move through my tears. I couldn't feel it with my hand on her... maybe because I'm shaking? But maybe she's still alive? I pressed my ear to her side to try and hear a heartbeat. She exhaled again, scared the shit out of me, and I flew back and cried harder. I knew what that was... that she was already gone... but my mind just couldn't accept it. The realization didn't hit until I had to move her in order to properly wrap her up. And even then... I found myself hesitating when I had to put the blanket over her face. I didn't want to. I thought, 'But what if she can't breathe like that? She'll suffocate.' It took a long time, but I had finally managed to gently wrap her and move her to the front door.

That night felt like it dragged on forever. I couldn't just bury her. Even if that was legal in Japan, I don't like the idea of one day having to leave her there when it's time to come back home. I won't abandon Little Foot like that. So I had to wait 8 hours until the pet funeral home opened so I could cremate her. It was hard, having to pass by her like that in the apartment while I waited. I was lucky enough that the funeral home was able to take her in that morning. But fuck, having to pick her up to get her there was heartbreaking. She was stiff... I will never get used to that feeling. It freaks me out so much. And it only served as a reminder that my sweet bean is gone.

I am grateful that the staff at this funeral home were very nice and accommodating. I didn't catch his name, but this guy saw I was in distress when I had to pick her up out of the passenger seat of my car. He rushed over and carefully took her out of my arms to carry back inside. We went into some kind of prayer room where I got to say my final goodbye. When I came back later to pick up her remains, she was given a very traditional yet beautiful white box to place her urn in. While it felt final, seeing her in that way now, I strangely felt at ease. The hardest part for both of us is over. Little Foot can finally be at peace.

When I took her home, I made it a point to clear off an entire shelf just for her. I still need to get a few decorations, mementos and a picture frame for her little shrine space. But in the meantime, I figured "when in Rome" and laid out some offerings of food/water and a bag of kitty treats for her. I'm starting to warm up to the idea of doing that often. And Obon is coming up soon. So I'll celebrate that in her memory too.

It's been 4 days now since Little Foot has passed on. The grief still hits me every now and then. But it's slowly starting to get easier. And even though it was the most saddening and, frankly, traumatizing thing to witness her in her final moment. I'm so glad I was able to keep my promise and be there for her. Knowing that she wasn't alone. I know it might be silly for me to say this... but while part of me tries to rationize that coming back in when I did was merely coincidental timing, I would rather give into the hope that Little Foot could hear and understand me. That she held on long enough for me to come back, and my words assured her that it was okay now to move on. I sincerely hope that being there was able to help her in any way. I love and miss her. So, so much.

[femcel-interruped]

Why I'm starting this blog about being alone

I have been a serial monogamist since I turned 13 and met my very first boyfriend. Once I felt that kind of connection with someone, it seemed impossible to live without it after the fact. I briefly explored this with my therapist because through the years she has watched me clutch onto this addition to affection and intense human connection. She said something along the lines of,

"I've had many clients go through the same thing. Once you start, it's hard to imagine a life without it. A life without infatuation becomes dull, you wont feel vibrant again until you find the next person. It's an endless cycle of chasing a high."

That is me paraphrasing, but nonetheless, she's right. Dating becomes an addiction for many. It's easy to find someone when your main goal is to have feelings, not to find a truly compatible partner. Along the way, I learned different qualities that young men had defined as a "dream girl" and I acquired those qualities. My ambition was to become THE girl in all ways, but mainly for men. It became my main source of validation. Not even through sex, but through the proof that I am lovable as a person.

The cycle ended after my last real relationship came to a dramatic close in December 2023. This was a person I wanted to make it work with so desperately. We had a life planned, we had a lease and two cats. We became family. But as all things do eventually, it met its fate. I moved out and went back home to my parents house over 800 miles away. It is now the end of April 2024, and I am still grieving and processing. This is the first time that I have been hit so hard by a relationship that I simply could not go on finding another. Believe me, I've tried. I've gone on dates, I've had a situationship or two, but nothing could cover my grief for this man and the life we were "supposed to" have.

I have successfully gone through the stages of grief, during which I became an insufferable femcel for a few months. I even started a meme page that centered around that idea. I was bitter. Extremely lost and lonely and bitter. No amount of flirtatious conversations on hinge could save me. I have made peace since then and I have done a lot of reflecting during the past few months of what it means to be alone vs lonely. Is it okay to feel lonely? Does it mean something else? I have many questions, all to be answered on here eventually.

The point of this blog is for me to explore the many questions I face everyday as a woman choosing to be alone, and having a hard time with it.

I am very young and learning how to live.

[strawb3rrybumbl3b33]

Ripped Apart - Peeta Mellark

Warnings: badly described panic attacks, grieving/depression, possible swearing I don't remember. Not proofread.

Desc; When Peeta gets put into the games, Aurora is thrown through a loop

Authors note; be kind please, I haven't written anything in like nearly a year. Feedback is appreciated but please don't be a dick

Aurora wasn’t sure which idea was worse; her name being called to go to the Hunger Games or Peeta’s name being called. She kept anxiously glancing around the square, looking for Peeta. But she was too short to see over the other girls. She fidgeted with her hands, picking at her skin. Effie Trinket moved across the stage, and every girls breath seemed to stop in unison.

She walked back across the stage to the microphone. “Primrose Everdeen.”

Aurora, and all the other girls around her visibly relaxed. All the girls except one. Primrose’s sister - Katniss, if Aurora recalled correctly - dashed through the other girls, shouting. With the commotion, Aurora stepped out of the line a little to get a look at Peeta. He met her eyes and gave her a semi-reassuring smile. She could tell he was scared though, she knew him better than he knew himself, afterall. 

Katniss finally got to make her way on stage and Effie moved across the stage on the other side. Loud tap tap taps as she moved center stage again. She paused, cleared her throat and announced, “Peeta Mellark.”

Aurora felt like her whole world just collapsed. She could barely breathe, her anxiety going into overgear as Peeta walked up to the stage and stood next to Effie. She was smiling. How could the woman possibly be smiling while Aurora’s whole world was falling apart. She felt like she was going to pass out. She started a breathing exercise Peeta always did with her when she got this bad. It helped a little but watching Peeta disappear into the building it got worse again. Today could’ve been the last day she sees him alive.

She and his family were able to go in and see him. After his family, she rushed in. Upon seeing him, she collapsed into his arms. Literally, falling to the ground and hyperventilating. Peeta sunk to the ground with her. 

“Hey.. Hey, it’s okay. Breathe with me, alright?” He said sweetly, starting to take slow breaths.

Through sobs, she followed his example. Slowly calming down to just cries. He just held her tightly, knowing this could be the last time he ever got to hold her. 

Time passed in a blur to Aurora as Peeta departed and got onto the train. She swore her heart broke even more at the sight. Peeta looked so excited. But Aurora knew him. He was always good at lying. She guessed it came with the territory of having a bad home life. 

She felt like she'd be physically ill. She ran home and to her room. her parents didn't even bother to check on her.

A few days later, the tributes had their grand reveal but she didn't watch. Even if she wanted to, she physically couldn't convince herself to get out of bed. Her heart was out in the capital being paraded around like a prize pig before its slaughter. Doing anything made her feel ill, even just laying there. But it was much better than sitting or standing. Occasionally her mom would make her get up and eat and bathe. But Aurora would just immediately go back to rotting in bed. A little while in, her mom got sick and it left her to take care of the house. 

While out to scrounge up what she could for tonight's supper, she heard gossiping.

“Have you seen Peeta and Katniss?”

“I'm so obsessed with them! Did you see his confession? He's so sweet. I hope they kiss!”

Aurora felt her heart squeeze. She slipped into an alley to calm her breathing, tears starting to fall. It was stupid, really it was. But hearing her crush of twelve years liked someone else? That hurt. 

She gathered what she could find for soup and ran the rest of the way home sobbing. Dinner was late that night, but not forgotten.

It didn't get much easier, as much as Aurora tried to fake it. All her days started to blend together into a disassociated blur.

That is until there was a knock on her door. She opened the door, expecting one of her moms friends or something. Her eyes widened in surprise at the familiar cropped blonde hair of her best friend. 

“Peeta?” She said in disbelief, tears immediately blurring her vision.

“Hey.” He said in a breath, a big smile on his face.

“You won?” She asked, still not convinced he was real. 

A nod, then he opened his mouth. Aurora didn't care to hear it. Much like before the games, she collapsed into his arms and sank to the floor. She sobbed and sobbed, soaking his shirt. But he just kept holding her as close as he could.

They sat there on her porch together in silence, drinking in each other's presence.

[lshark-cs]

Iron God Chapter 35 [Kolo]

 Kolo's eyes opened halfway. At first, she couldn't tell what had woken her. Then a cat's paw prodded her face. She grunted. Weeks of constant training had caught up to her now, and her limbs ached to the point they felt boneless. The last thing she wanted to do was get up before sunrise.

"Really?" she grumbled.

The cat jumped down and stood up on two legs, changing its shape into a familiar human. Channei flipped her blond hair back. "Sorry, Kolo. I know you're tired, but we all need to talk."

Kolo sat up, smoothed her white hair, then looked around the room. The red light from her eyes several others. Azvalath, Lalek, and Rizval sat on the floor in various spots around the room. Jai-Lag lay stretched out by the door, breathing in slow rumbling sighs. Kolo cocked her head. "What's this about?"

Azvalath cleared his throat. "Rizval, mind taking notes? We can share them with Yayaba later. She should know too." Then he looked at Kolo. "We all think there's something really wrong with Master Xigon."

"Yeah, me too." Kolo almost laughed. "What took you so long to figure it out?"

"You know, it would've made sense if he were just tired from...recent events." Lalek averted her gaze.

"No it wouldn't," Rizval corrected. "Do you really think a bit of back talk would do him in like that? He'd be history if that were true."

"Not that." The muscular woman scowled. "I was talking about –"

"See, but that doesn't make sense either," said Azvalath. "He kills people all the time."

"Maybe this time was different somehow," Kolo twisted her necklace around her fingers. "He never did tell us exactly what happened. Neither did Qila. She didn't tell me anything when I asked."

"Master Qila wasn't there. Of course she wouldn't know." Rizval stretched their arms and yawned. "Though I think you could be onto something. Question is, how could this incident be different from the others?"

"We should ask him, maybe," Kolo suggested.

"No way." Channei shook her head. "He and Master Qila shouldn't even know we're talking about this. Got it?"

Kolo swallowed hard and nodded.

"Not like we'd get an answer out of him anyhow." Azvalath looked down. "He's not one to divulge any kind of vulnerable information. But there is someone else we could ask."

Channei seemed to catch the implication at once. "It'd be cruel to pull Dakko and Ido into this. They're still grieving, and I can hardly blame them. No matter how much that monster hurt them, it can't have been easy to witness that."

"Hm." Kolo bit her lip. "Well, we have to know what might be wrong if we're going to stage any kind of intervention."

Lalek looked startled. "Who said we're staging an intervention?"

"What were you planning to do?" Kolo raised an eyebrow. "Just stand back and watch? No way. It's hard enough to watch."

"I agree," said Azvalath. "We should do something. Master Xigon has helped all of us at some point. Isn't it time we return the favor?"

Channei balled her hands into fists. "Yeah, but can't we help without torturing those boys?"

"It's probably worse to let them bottle it all up," Azvalath pointed out. "Let me go and get them."

The man stood up, stretched, then left the room, careful to step over the sabretooth cat's gently swishing tail. He left them in a lull of awkward silence. The only sound was the scratching of a quill on parchment as Rizval scribbled their notes down.

Then Rizval interrupted the stillness. "Also worth noting, I think, is that I've been told to make a hell of a lot more pain medicine vials lately." They scratched harder at the parchment as the ink dried. "Masters say it's for Dakko, but does he really need that much?"

Kolo shrugged. "Seems unlikely."

Several minutes passed before Azvalath returned with Dakko. He looked at Channei. "I asked them both. Ido said he'd shock me if I made him talk about it. Dakko agreed, though."

"Thanks, Dakko." Channei patted the floor next to her. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm cold." He said it immediately, without hesitation or lies.

"Here." Kolo got up and brought him her blanket. "How's this?"

Dakko extended a trembling hand to take the blanket. "Thanks." He sat down between Kolo and Channei, clutching tight to the wool. Even though he was still cold, Kolo couldn't help but note how much better Dakko looked after several weeks with them. He was less emaciated than before, and more mobile thanks to the joint braces Rizval had made him. Even his demeanor seemed to have healed somewhat. It wasn't nearly as easy to startle him or make him cry now.

"Hey kid," Rizval piped up. "How often do you take your pain medicine?"

"Half a vial in the morning and half in the evening," he said. "Why? Did someone else need some?"

"Nah." Rizval squinted at their notes. "Just doing some calculations."

Dakko gave a slow nod. "Hm. All right, then."

Kolo put one hand on the boy's still-quivering arm. "What can you tell us about what happened that night?"

The boy's fingers clenched up and crackled with ice. "I don't know what to say."

"Maybe start with what happened when you ran off from the ceremony," Azvalath pressed. "Why'd you do that?"

Dakko took a deep breath. He looked up and down, then spoke barely louder than a whisper. "I remembered my own second ascension and I couldn't watch anymore. It felt like Haode was attacking me all over again." He brushed cold fingers against his scarred neck. "I couldn't calm down. I figured I would leave so I didn't...bother anyone."

Kolo bit her lip. "I don't think you could've bothered anyone more than I did that night. But go on. What happened next?"

"Haode must have used his future sight to find me. He caught me. And...I was so glad to be caught." Dakko let out a miserable chuckle. "It's funny, really. I was just remembering how badly he hurt me, but when he held me again, I felt so warm. I wanted him to hold me forever." He scratched at his scar, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. "I would've done anything for him as long as he didn't let me go. It was pathetic."

"Hey kid, I know it's tough to swallow, but you weren't at fault there," Rizval interrupted. "Spiders tie little moths up tight, you know. The silk's sticky even when you can't see it."

Dakko squinted. "Yeah, I guess so."

"So we all saw you run off, then Ido followed you, and then Master Xigon left for seemingly no reason." Lalek twiddled her thumbs. "Whatever your commotion was, it must've alerted him."

"I don't even know how he found us." Dakko's eyes widened again. "It was like he showed up out of thin air. How the hell – ?"

"Were you in a potentially life-threatening situation?" Azvalath asked.

Dakko's head turned. "Huh?"

Kolo shrugged. "Hey Aza, Xigon gets drawn toward situations like that, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, you saw." Azvalath fussed with a loose thread on his shirt. "Back when Channei was injured, it was enough to pull him out of torpor. So if any of their lives were in peril, that's how he would have found them."

Channei groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Anyway." Dakko seemed frustrated with all the interruptions. "I suppose you could say we were in danger. Though I really don't want to think he'd kill either of us, no matter what we did." He looked down. "Maybe that's more stupid wishful thinking. I've always liked imagining good things."

Kolo's heart ached at that comment. "Did you notice anything odd? When Xigon put him down?"

"I...I don't know. I mean, I..." Dakko suddenly seemed unable to form words. He grabbed onto Kolo's sleeve. "I mean, his eyes turned purple, and he –"

"His eyes turned purple?" Azvalath's eyebrows rose.

"Yeah, like they did when he was healing me when I first came," said Dakko. "But I don't think he was healing Haode. That wouldn't make any sense."

Kolo shook her head. Wherever this was headed, it felt like a dead end. An intensely frustrating, depressing dead end. She wasn't entirely sure why she cared, but she found she did, and immensely so.

Before she could say anything else, the door swung open. It hit Jai-Lag, who flinched away with a shrill mew more befitting of a tiny kitten than a full-grown sabretooth cat.

Kolo gulped when she saw the old woman standing in the doorway.

Master Qila squinted. "What's got all of you up so early?"

"We were...um..." Kolo struggled to come up with an excuse.

"Just talking," said Azvalath.

"About what?" she asked, though Kolo suspected Qila already knew.

"Anatomy," Rizval blurted.

"Mm-hm." Qila hummed with the tone of a condescending mother. "Rizval, your nose always flares when you tell a lie." She came in and sat down on the floor with all of them. "What's really going on?"

Kolo scowled. "What's wrong with Master Xigon?"

The whole room went dead silent.

Qila shrugged. "I have no idea. But it's none of your business."

"It's entirely our business." Azvalath practically snarled. "What are you two keeping from us?"

"It shouldn't concern you." Qila leveled him a glare. "I'll have you know, I'm as much in the dark as you are. But I haven't come to scold you all for prying, even though you really should stop."

"What for, then?" Kolo asked. "Seems like that's all you're doing right now."

Qila pulled a folded sheet of parchment out of her pocket. "Your next assignments."

Azvalath rolled his eyes. "Brilliant timing."

She unfolded the parchment and read it out loud. "Lalek, Rizval, Dakko, Ido – where's Ido?" When she looked around the room and didn't see him, Qila sighed. "Someone let him know. You four will be assisting with construction and repairs in the town below. You're to meet the innkeeper of Naughty Nack's for more information."

Rizval cackled. "That oaf?"

Qila cleared her throat. "Channei, you're to monitor the unrest that's growing among the populace. Get a sense of who's saying what about us. Yayaba will relay your findings to us."

"I'll be in disguise, I assume?" Channei played with a lock of her blond hair. "Easy enough."

"Jai-Lag, Azvalath, and Kolo." She looked straight at Kolo. "Yayaba has observed...unusual happenings around the village of Morning. Xigon wants you three to investigate. You've been given clearance to carry weapons and to pursue any suspected descendants of the Iron God." She squinted back at the parchment. "Your contact's name is Talin. According to Master Xigon, he should be unmistakable."

Kolo wasn't sure if she'd heard any of that right. "Pursue any...what?"

Azvalath chuckled bitterly. "Isn't it a bit soon to put Kolo on the hunt, Master Qila?"

Then she understood. And she laughed.

She'd be hunting someone the same way Azvalath had hunted her.

What delightful irony.

"I understand this might be difficult for you, Kolo." Qila finger-combed her gray hair. "If you'd prefer it, I can override this order and put you on a different task."

Kolo looked up and down, then clenched her fingers. Her heart fluttered.

"Any questions?" Qila asked.

With a twisted smile, Kolo turned back toward Qila. "Only when we begin."

[kyinpeachichu]

Falling in love with fictional characters. I've been doing that for so long. So much so I dont know what the actual true feeling of falling in love is.

Constantly thinking of them, learning what you can about them, the desire to get close to them. Yep, I've suffered all of those symptoms before. But never have I been too attached. I just always forget about them and hop onto the next hot guy on a screen.

However, I do find myself falling for them all over again when I remember them.

But thats not the point I want to get across today.

Being emotionally invested in a written and designed character... is hard on me. (And yes that means that the creation of the character is impecable. To which I fully respect and bow down to)

I've just pretty much fallen in love with Aerith from Final fantasy 7 the remake. And ever since I learned that she dies, I get deeply saddened whenever I think about it.

Like, I could literally feel my heart slow down or beat harder while my eyes begin to hurt and I get emotional about the thought of it.

I love Aerith, she's my princess and the goddess over my current obsession with this fandom. I love her, way too goddamn much.

I'm hoping that they dont kill her off in the remake's next game. But with all signs and scenes in the current game, I dont think thats likely.

And yet here I am, sulking in bed at 2 in the morning over the death of someone, who never even lived.

Which is probably why Sephiroth is one of the few long haired guys with a gorgeous voice and abs of steel that I did not fall head over heels over for. Maybe even the first. Hell I've liked serial killers and anime versions of Hitler if they were pretty guys with long hair.

No that jerk needs to die in a hole. A HOLE IN THE PLANET THAT DOESN'T OVER FLOW WITH FUCKING LIFE STREAM!!!

Aerith's remake death is still a mystery and I'm at the first stage of grieving, denial. I'm making up every excuse and comming up with senseless theories and reasons as to why they shouldn't kill her off.

But all the signs are pointing there. Her resolution scene, her hints on her knowing everything and actually plans to die. The convenience for the creators since they dont have to rewrite the entire game's lore and face backlash from fans who'd think that her death was nescessary for the developments of the other characters.

So with Aerith's future in the remake, I am hoping, praying that they let her live.

[lythea-creation]

Broken Toys - Johanna Mason x fem reader (Chapter 9)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

word count: 2.233

----------

My house was completely empty, no one left but me.

It was already late at night as I had just returned from district 13.

I let myself fall onto my bed.

The familiar emptiness inside of me was overwhelming. Due to all the new insights I had been distracted from my sorrow, but now it was hitting me full force. There would be no one to comfort me this time.

I looked at the empty bed beside me.

Rue had barely used it. She had always been with me to hold me when I had had a nightmare.

If I got any sleep, the nightmares would definitely eat me up tonight.

Silent tears were flowing down my cheeks. I could be sure to have someone to return to after this war if I survived it. Like two years ago after my Games. But it would never be the same again and I could not bear it.

A ringing sound captured my ears.

After a few seconds I realized that it was the phone.

“You jerk didn't call back”, Johanna yelled at me.

She had waited the whole time?

“Sorry, I ...”

“Wait! Are you crying?”, she interrupted me.

“Doesn't matter”, I replied. “I will join the rebellion and fight together with my people. My family is safe.”

“Dammit! We can't talk freely on the phone and I can't visit you either. But if you die, I will kill you!”

“If Snow killed me now, it would just enrage my district even more. It wouldn't be a wise move and he isn't stupid.”

Suddenly the phone call was interrupted. I tried calling again, but it did not work, neither with Finnick and Annie, or any other victor.

I knocked onto Seeder's door.

“(f/n)? It's pretty late”, a sleepy Seeder greeted me.

Without asking I stepped into her house and went to her phone. It was not working either.

“What is it, (f/n)?”, Seeder worried.

“Snow cut us off. The phones aren't working anymore”, I realized. “He's afraid that we ally against him because of the riots. He's aware that many of us hold a grudge against him and that it will get harder to control us. So he uses a preventive strategy.”

“I saw your family leaving earlier. What is going on?”, Seeder asked.

“I had to make sure they're safe. Seeder, as a victor and Rue's sister I can't stand by.”

She nodded understandingly. “The riots began with Katniss' salute. I think she didn't even notice that she was opposing the Capitol or at least not to what extent. She sparked a small flame. You could easily turn it into a huge fire.”

I nodded and went back to my house.

To me, no peace would be worth Rue's death. But I had no time to grieve now.

My breathing quickened at the sight of the familiar rooms inside my house. Everything reminded me of what I had lost, of the fact that I was all alone right now.

Hence I climbed onto a tree outside. One that Rue had never climbed onto because she had not liked plums.

When I closed my eyes I felt like I was inside the arena again.

The feeling inside of me was too similar to the feeling I had had during my Games. Alone in a battle I most probably would not be able to survive. Where every action I chose could mean the death of a human, whether it was me or someone else. Without any control or knowledge about what the Capitol was going to throw at me next.

Nevertheless I had to make a choice between risking my life fighting or most likely dying without fighting.

Snow had taken the decision from me when he had killed Rue.

On the next day I went to the stage and talked to the peacekeepers: “President Snow asked me to talk to the rebels. Could you gather them for me, please?”

They complied. Snow must have told them about his request.

The crowd was uneasy.

“People of district 11! I think all of you know me, but still … I'm (f/n) (l/n)! The victor of the 72nd Hunger Games and Rue's older sister! That we never shared the same name or blood didn't matter to us! I loved her more than I thought was possible! Therefore her death was devastating for me! I've watched her through her whole Games, as her mentor and her sister! It was cruel! President Snow asked me to talk to you due to the uprisings you're causing! He wants me to stop you because many people are going to die if this goes on! He told me that Rue has died to maintain the peace as the Hunger Games had been developed for that exact purpose! But the Hunger Games never meant to keep us safe or to prevent casualties! They are meant to suppress us! Snow thinks that Katniss sparked a flame which could evolve into a giant fire eating up Panem! But you know what? It wasn't Rue's death causing the riots! It wasn't Katniss causing the riots! It was President Snow himself! We are fighting because something is wrong! Because we need to change the way Panem works! Snow! I'm sure you're seeing this right now or at least are going to see this! What do you think? What would you say if we crumbled the ground beneath you? What would you say if we left you the choice between freezing to death or running into a losing battle? What would you say if we sent tracker jackers after you or set your surroundings on fire? What would you say if we made your granddaughter suffer an agonizing death, right in front of your eyes? You take everything from us and expect us to stand still and watch! But we're not just some pawns in your sick games! You aren't the ruler of our lives! It's up to us to decide! We are the people of Panem! We are the ones ruling this country! Prepare yourself to get extinguished by your own fire! Let us melt the snow! For our freedom! For the people of Panem! For Rue!”

The crowd started screaming and fighting the peacekeepers.

I felt a bullet piercing my leg making me sink to the ground. But I had to be a role model now.

I stood up and smirked provocatively into the camera that was always hanging at the wall of the building.

They needed more to detain a victor. Snow himself had been the one making us so endurable with the endless suffering he had brought over us. Now he had to pay for it.

The fighting went on for a long time, but was stopped as more peacekeepers arrived.

The resisting got fiercer when the peacekeepers dragged me away.

They let me go inside the town hall, in front of a screen.

“Hello, (f/n). I got your message and see that you have chosen your side. You may be a victor, but don't forget that you can never truly win the Games.”

“Only if I play after your rules”, I interjected.

He simply smiled. “We will see if you're going to regret your choice.”

The screen turned black.

I finally collapsed due to the blood loss.

I used my jacket once again to bandage my wound up.

My life would consist of endless Hunger Games if I did not change anything.

Ignoring the pain, I left the building.

The sight in front of me was horrifying.

For now the riots had stopped.

Many people had already lost their lives, rebels as well as peacekeepers.

But now that Rue had died, it felt like nothing could break me anymore, like I could not be broken more than I already was.

Everyone was secretly staring at me when I passed the fields and orchards on the way back to my house.

I was walking as straight as I could to show them that I had not given up.

The next months were excruciating.

I made sure to eat properly, hoping that it would at least make up a bit for my lack of sleep.

The uprising after my speech had been the most crucial one until now, but there had been more.

The peacekeepers in district 11 had grown in numbers and brutality, though the citizens were struggling against the punishments now. We had started standing up for each other again, even if it meant an additional punishment. We were not some scared and suppressed individuals anymore, but one strong and brave united district.

Today was a special occasion.

Peeta and Katniss would arrive here. After all we were their first district of the victory tour.

The peacekeepers had found out long ago that my family was not living in the victor's village anymore. They had tried to get me to spill my knowledge, to no avail.

So I was the only one standing in front of Rue's giant picture, towering over the other members of my district.

My gaze was fixated on the stage I had stood on too many times for my own good. No positive emotions were connected to it.

My eyes wandered to Thresh's family. I had talked to them after my first great riot.

We had understood each other as grieving family members and I had talked with them about Thresh. His death pained me as well. It was just overshadowed by Rue's.

The voice of the mayor ripped me out of my thoughts: “The victors of the 74th Hunger Games! Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!”

The applause was almost non-existent.

The smile on the victor's faces upset me, but I knew perfectly well that they had to act.

I noticed Katniss' smile falter when she looked into my direction.

“Thank you”, Peeta began. “We are honored to be here with you today. And to be with the families of the fallen tributes.”

There was a long, painful silence hovering over us.

I noticed that Peeta put his cards away.

I had clung onto them during me victory tour, but Peeta had always been great with words.

“I know they fought and lived with honor and dignity until the end. Both Thresh … and Rue … were so young. But our lives aren't just measured in years. They are measured in the lives of the people we touch around us. For myself … for Katniss … we know that without Rue … and without Thresh, we wouldn't be standing here today. So in recognition of that, knowing that it in no way could make up for your loss, we would like to donate one month of our winnings to the families of the tributes every year for the rest of our lives.”

I had to admit that I was shocked at that. He probably just included me because it would have been degrading for Rue if he had not.

Now true applause resounded through the crowd.

“Thank you”, Peeta finished and looked at Katniss.

They were about to leave when Katniss stopped in her tracks and looked in my direction again, the huge picture of Rue behind me.

I had not dared to turn around and look at the picture myself, the whole time.

To my surprise Katniss did move to the microphone now. “I just wanted to say that I didn't know Thresh. I only spoke to him once. He could have killed me, but instead he showed me mercy. That's a debt I will never be able to repay.”

Her gaze wandered from Thresh's family to me. “I did know Rue. She wasn't just my ally. She was my friend.” Her voice broke slightly, showing that she was suppressing her tears. “Everything that's beautiful brings her to my mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the meadow by my house. I see her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees. I see her in my sister Prim. She was too young ... too gentle. And I couldn't save her. I'm sorry.”

My vision was blurry from the tears I tried to keep in. I had felt every word Katniss had said.

I wanted to approach her, to talk to her, but I was stuck on my pedestal once more. It was ironic how exactly this whole situation resembled my Games and the time after.

Suddenly I heard a whistle in the crowd. It was the melody Katniss' had made during the Games.

Then I saw the hand of the old man in the air, saluting. All of us followed his example.

Of course the peacekeepers immediately intervened. It had happened many times during the last months, but not to that extent.

Obviously Katniss had not known about the extreme situation our district was in. What was happening here while the rest of Panem did not have a clue because the Capitol kept it a secret.

Katniss stormed toward the crowd screaming: “No!”

But the peacekeepers dragged her away. They did not care that she resisted and kept on pleading to leave the old man alone. He was shot anyway.

I jumped down from my pedestal and joined the fight. I would not back down, no matter the cost.

I had promised myself … and Rue.

Next Chapter

[tiny-ts]

The Stages of Grief

Depending on where you need, listen or watch you could be told that there are 5 stages of grief or 7 but it all reads along the same lines more or less - give or take.

As I've found by researching the 'stages' of grief is that although this is a proposed theory on how people work through and experience grief it is not necessarily correct, yes people may experience these different stages but not exactly in a linear way and once they felt it once and moved onto another stage that's it move onto the next stage and experience this new part of the grieving process.

Despite the video I watched being from 2013, which is nearly a decade old now, the information and ideology of how grief is experienced is still there. There's a line at the start of the video I really like and would love to incorporate into a print because it simply rings so true to me and my understanding of grief, the line was "it's not just a matter of coping with loss, it's about coping with change". I don't think I would use it in such a wordy way but I want to use something of that same calibre with similar wording.

They talked about how the five stages of grief are talked about like a five step process that you go through, one by one and in actual fact, it's more like a rollercoaster. I agree with this because they also mention that some people might even go through any of the proposed stages at all because everyone grieves differntly.

Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle

whilst researching and looking for graphics to compliment this piece of research I came across a graph that linked directly to a website explaining the aforementioned 'Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle'. Or as it's more commonly known, the five stages of grief and this is a piece of theoretical psychology that comes from her book 'On Death and Dying', which is based around off her work with terminally ill patients. Her book and thereby also the model of the graph was published in 1969 and of course has since been criticised because grief is not only experienced in some many different ways but also the ways people experience that grief can have parts of the cycle not in order or not experience any of these from the cycle.

I do find it interesting that this model made in 1969 over 50 years ago now is a very common way that the grieving process is depicted despite being mostly wrong for a lot of people. It's just so strange to me how this becomes the way the process of grief is seen as the default and that is the only way I can explain that makes sense.

Although this does give an idea for a print using the model and having it underneath a bolder print about how the process of grief is different for everyone, probably using a simple graphic to the one I saw in the video I wanted, which decided grief as a rollercoaster. Going through the various stages not in order and sometimes more than once or not at all.

What I can say is that I'm 'walking' away from this research with new print ideas filled by this research but also how grief and the five stages of grief especially came to be depicted and where the idea originated from.