#or replace the time I have to maintain my home with another job

[facetsofthecloset]

Tbh my life would be pretty perfect right now if my current part time janitoring job paid. Like. A livable wage. Genuinely love doing it, the hours are perfect, I like my coworkers (and don’t have to interact with them much which might contribute to that lol), it leaves me so much time and energy afterward to enjoy my day and live my life—

Except I’m still scraping the bottom of my savings to pay the Existing Fees. Not quite as fast, which is nice, definitely, but like. What if I wasn’t in the red and had this job I think is important and enjoy but also doesn’t consume 110% of my whole life. What then, huh? I might have a good time? I might actually have a chance of kicking my constant SI at some point? Can’t have that can we? Misery is the currency that runs the world isn’t it? Can’t have people having a good time. We might be better off as a society then and that’s not allowed obviously

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

The Light In My Darkness

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || The darkness has it’s hold on you. It’s tightness suffocating. It’s darkness numbing. You search the endless depths for salvation, yet you find yourself alone. But there will soon come a moment when a beacon of light shines it’s way for you to resurface from the pitch black depth.

Word Count || 1501

Contents & Warnings || Angst, light Fluff — mature content/language, depression, mental health, mention of suicide.

Authors Note || It’s been a few months since I last posted. I fell into a pretty dark depression that really fucked me up for months. I’m slowly starting to recover from it, and I’m excited to write and post again and also feel more like myself . Sorry to come back with such an angsty story. This is the only story that I wrote over those months, and I have put some real stuff that went through my head during those months. It felt good to put some of those thoughts into writing and combine them with one of my comforts which is Bucky. So please be advised that this story does contain some depression stuff and mention of suicide.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

TFATWS!Bucky Masterlist

The weight of emptiness pulls you deeper each day that passes, its grip on you tightening as it drags you toward the depths of its darkness. And you are so aware that its power will consume you entirely, eat you from the inside, leaving you weak and vulnerable to its insatiable hunger. The darkness so treacherous that escape will seem almost impossible.

You feel entirely shattered and numb. The once vibrant life you had, such as your job, responsibilities, friends, and most importantly, Bucky and Alpine, now feels almost lifeless. The once passion you had for your beautiful life is now reduced to nothing. All that remains is the desire to crawl into a deep, dark hole and disappear, hoping that the suffocating darkness will claim you quickly.

Despite the emptiness within, you still try to maintain a brave and normal facade for those around you. But your boyfriend, the one closest to your heart, senses and sees the cracks in the facade you’ve put up. He sees the destruction of your former self, reduced to nothing more than an empty shell.

Bucky, with his caring and tender nature for you, wants to help. But you push him away, scared that you may drag him down as well. You don’t want to darken his light with your darkness.

However, there comes a time when everyone breaks down into pieces, and it’s left up to the loved ones to pick up the fragile fragments and mend them with tender and loving care.

---

As you drag yourself up the steps to your front door, the mask of a fake smile and false happiness you wore for work fades away. Instead replaced by the overwhelming despair that haunts your soul. You can no longer keep it up, and you know that Bucky will shower you with his love in an attempt to ease your pain.

“Hey, doll. Welcome home,” Bucky greets you with a tender kiss on the forehead. His hands linger on your waist, gently squeezing as a sign of affection and protection. Alpine purrs in delight and welcomes you home by weaving and rubbing against your legs.

Bucky’s warm touch and a tender kiss would once have your heart flutter into a billion butterflies, making you jump him in excitement, and a cuddle session on the couch would ensure with loving kisses shared between one another as you recovered from your workday. But now, with the darkness holding its tight grip on you, you can’t fully enjoy and appreciate his gorgeous self, which fills you with guilt. Deep down, you know that you love Bucky with all your being. He’s the perfect individual, the kind anyone would be lucky to have. But you struggle to feel the love he so generously pours upon you now. The realization of this causes tears to well up, along with a profound sense of shame.

“How was work, baby?” Bucky’s eyes, once melting and soft, fixates on your empty and dim ones. His now somber ones scan you from head to toe, sensing you are far from your former self. He knows you are having difficulties, that you are tired, but he’s unaware of the full extent of it and doesn’t know how deep it goes. He does his best to help and reassure you daily, but you cannot sense his efforts. The darkness has buried your emotions so deep within.

“It was fine, babe. Just exhausting,” you respond, attempting to reassure him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. He can tell that you are withholding the whole truth.

“Doll, what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself recently. I’m here for you, baby. I want to help,” his voice rasps as he cups your cheeks, stroking your skin. His brows furrow, his gaze piercing deep into your soul, hoping to uncover the cause of your recent changes.

The love and care he has for you are so evident, making your heart skip a beat and you so long to throw yourself into his arms, allowing him to shower you with his affection and reassurance that everything will be alright. But the darkness is keeping you on a tight leash.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie, and he can so easily see through it.” “I-I’m just tired. I think I’ll take a nap.”

As you lie in the darkness of your bedroom, staring at the ceiling, your mind is empty of thoughts. You feel cold and empty, much like the air surrounding you. One terrifying thought, a whisper that lurks in your darkness, tries to surface: I don’t want to live anymore.

During the day, you try your best to suppress that thought, forcefully pushing it deep down. But with each passing day, it grows stronger. And now, in the confines of your dark and cold bedroom, it solidifies into a haunting possibility—an escape from the torment. I don’t want to live anymore. “… but I don’t want to die,” you whisper, turning to your side with a heavy sigh. It’s all so overwhelming and exhausting, and you have never felt so trapped and helpless before. How can I possibly recover from this? Will I ever recover from this? Am I doomed to this darkness forever until it eventually consumes me?

Sometime later, a knock on the bedroom door pierces the silence, and a sliver of light illuminates the room's darkness as Bucky enters, the chime of Alpine’s collar following close behind. Neither of you utters a word. He closes the door gently, ensuring the light doesn’t disturb you. In the room's dimness, you hear him navigate through it, going to the shared bed and settling in behind you. His warm, sturdy frame presses against your back while his arms envelop you, and his face nestles into the nape of your neck, inhaling deeply, savoring your scent before placing a tender kiss on your skin. Alpine joins the comfort, snuggling at your feet with a soft purr.

Even with these two beings, who love you unconditionally, nestled close to you, it barely dulls and heals the emptiness inside, but it makes your heart skip a beat again. A moment of silence ensues, the only sounds being your synchronized breathing and the gentle purring from Alpine.

“Doll,” Bucky murmurs, his voice soft and delicate, squeezing you ever so slightly tighter to convey the depth of his love for you. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Let me inside your pain. Don’t slip away from me. I’m here to help. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

The desperation, sadness, and defeat in his voice finally shatter you, breaking down your defenses, making you finally release all that pain and sorrow, erupting into tears and sobs.

“I’m so fucking tired, Bucky,” you sob violently into the pillow. “I’m so fucking done with everything. I feel so empty, so lost. I can’t do this anymore. The darkness has such a tight hold on me, and I feel myself suffocating more and more each day that follows.” Your cries intensify, your body shaking in his embrace. “I don’t have the will to live anymore, but I don’t want to die either. Please help me. I’m so lost, Bucky.” You continue to weep and sob into the sheets while Bucky holds you tighter, tears streaming down his face as well, wetting your neck.

You don’t know how long you cry, releasing all that has built up over the past few weeks. Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? Eventually, exhaustion takes hold of you. Your throat feels dry and hoarse, your eyes burn, and your body feels heavy and weak.

Throughout it all, Bucky remains silent, cradling and comforting you. The weight of your dark confession impacting him deeply, evident in his strained voice—a testament that he’s been crying alongside you.

“I wish I could take all your emptiness and pain away, doll.” His voice laced with vulnerability and determination. “I wish we lived in a fairytale where my words could magically heal your soul and restore your happiness. But this is reality, and I know my words alone will not heal and destroy that darkness. But I want you to know I’m here, baby, and I’ll always be here. I will fight for you, fight beside you. I’ll forever be the light that shines in your darkest moments. I promise I will help you. I promise we will get you professional help. I love you so much, my doll.”

Bucky’s words feel like the salvation you’ve yearned for—the help you desperately need. It’s the promise that gives you hope. Your hand, which has been searching in the darkness for so long, has finally found a lifeline—a beacon of light that shines bright in your darkness.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

[pixies-love-envy]

Chapter 3: Cricket

My shift ends in two hours, and a freak storm brews outside, a stark difference from the perfect summer weather this morning. They refuse to send the staff home and close early. Apparently, the weather plays into the lowly, down-on-their-luck band of travelers' fantasy. I finish mixing a “Dungeon Master’s Delight” for a very talkative, very proud, level 26 halfling paladin called Cormo Rumblesurge.

“Thanks much, barkeep!” he bellows as he takes his drink.

“The pleasures all mine, fearless adventurer!” I say, copying his Monty Python-esque accent. I don’t have to respond like this, but I want to do the job well if I'm getting paid. A few minutes later, a lull at the bar signaled to Harlow and me that it was time to sneak over to the bathroom and waste time. If you excel at your job, you have more wiggle room to do what you want.

The bathroom is single-stall. We lock it to ensure our privacy. Harlow passes me the joint she rolled this morning, and I open the bathroom window, careful not to touch the strange yellowish-brown substance on its sill. I reach into my bra to retrieve my special lighter. Her name is Zelda. She’s a gold zippo with the lovers tarot card engraved on the front. My lighter is due for a flint and wick replacement soon. I might even have to take some time to maintain its finish. I flip it open, light the perfectly rolled joint, and take two puffs, but I do not pass it to Harlow. She doesn’t do drugs or even drink, for that matter. It’s not for lack of trying. She just doesn’t react well to them. It’s almost like she’s allergic. Harlow is, however, the resident joint roller because I suck at it, and she’s a good friend.

“You remember that episode of The Twilight Zone with the author?” she asks. I know I’m the high one, but she always manages to come up with the goofy high-people questions.

“Gonna have to be more specific, Babe.” I have literally never seen an episode of The Twilight Zone, and I’m kind of embarrassed to admit that to her.

“He's cheating on his wife and gets exposed when she comes home early, but it turns out his mistress is a fictional character he created. Come to find out, his wife is actually also a fictional character who was initially perfect but deviated from his description, which is why she came home early in the first place.”

“I feel like I-” I wheeze, breaking into a series of hacking coughs that made my body jerk. “would just make my character wife polyamorous.”

“Yeah, but if she's gained sentience, you can't make her do anything, and you certainly can't make her want to be with you anymore.”

“Damn, I guess I write her a new wife, and I write myself a husband because men have no standards.” the joke makes me laugh, and I send myself into another coughing fit.

“I think I just wouldn’t use the magic.”

“Wow, you’re so lame.” I cup my hand over the joint to hide the glow of the cherry and protect it from the breeze let in by the window. I take a drag. If this wind picks up, I fear, oh how I fear, that I will have to stay here at the inn. I would rather sit on a hot grill. “Also, what you meant to say was sapience, not sentience. All animals are sentient, but humans are sapient.”

She punches the shit out of my shoulder. “You’re so freaking irritating.” I launch the roach out of the window, and we depart.

In the time it took us to leave and come back, the guests from the Inn all came down to the tavern. They’re not dressed in their best costumes anymore, but they dressed up enough for me to respect their commitment to the bit. A loud bang, like metal on glass, comes from my left. The whole room turns to look. A street sign has blown into the tavern’s window and bounced off. Looks like we’re staying here tonight. I go to take a set of room keys from behind the bar, but the rack is empty.

“No, no, no” this can’t be. There were three fucking keys here when we left. Under the counter. They must be under the counter, under the cups, in the cash register, or something. They have to be here somewhere. Harlow puts her hand on my shoulder.

“The inn is full, honey,” and there are no rooms left. The staff is trapped. “I guess we’ll have to sleep in the tavern.”

“Harly, I can’t sleep in the tavern.”

“Yes, you can.” she models taking deep breaths in and out with her hands and chest. “It’ll be okay. I’ll snatch up the nicest, cleanest booth we’ve got. You know, the one in the corner, and all night we’re gonna laugh at that bitch Michelle because her big sasquatch ass is gonna have to sleep on the floor.” Damn, she’s funny. I hate to say it because it makes me seem like an asshole, but the jab at Michelle is pulling me out of my panic attack. I chuckle, and Harlow lets out a sigh of relief.

“She really is fucking huge.” I’m laughing so hard Harlow can barely understand me “She’s like Hagrid in a mini skirt.” She joins in my laughter, and I remember why she’s my best friend.

Harlow puts me in a friendly headlock. “It’s all gonna be alright, Jiminy. It's not gonna be like when you were a kid.”

“Yeah, I know it’s gonna be fine,” I say with a smile. “Because I’m going to pick up one of these nerds and sleep in a nice, warm bed tonight.”

“Are you serious? You’re resorting to prostitution now?”

“I am!” I reply very loudly and matter-of-factly. Then I stalk off in search of my new man.

The guys who come here aren’t usually very ugly, but they're still not preferable. Occasionally, we get a semi-attractive man who roleplays as a prince fighter hero, half-elf, or something or other. Unfortunately for me, it seems we’ve got a bad batch in here tonight. There’s a man in with really nice arms, but he’s got a wedding ring. After a good look around, I saw three viable options. The first is a burly man with heavy green face paint, the second is a tall, lanky blonde orc, and the third is a ginger, who looks like a sixteen-year-old, who I know for a fact is 23 because I carded him. I’m about to go for the blonde orc at the end of the bar when, out of the corner of my eye, I see him—a pretty boy dressed in standard 21st-century garb. He’s got brown floppy hair and bright blue eyes with a yellow center almost like a sunflower. They go perfectly with his warm and inviting peachy complexion. Looking at him genuinely is an experience. Obviously, he’s the one.

Okay, Cricket, it’s game time. I reach behind the bar and take a swig from the bottle of my favorite cinnamon whiskey. I went into this thinking I wouldn’t have to try very hard, but if I’m going to turn tricks, I figure I should turn them for a man of substance. It’s a good thing I have this corset on. I look freaking amazing. I walk right up and sit across from him in his booth.

“Alright, what’s your story, pretty boy? What on earth is someone like you doing in The Chipped Tea Cup?”

“Yeah, no. Welcome to my booth, I guess, Miss—” He pauses to read my name tag. “Tiploft.” He puts on a genuine smile. “Just trying to escape the rain. I’m at the tail end of a road trip, actually.” That was kind of obvious, and I’m not sure why I asked. The road trip is news, though.

I rest my elbows on the table and lean in to show off my cleavage. “Oh, so you’re a true adventurer. Where are you going?”

“I got a new apartment uptown, just a few miles from here. I’ve traveled through six states to get here.”

“Uptown? Are you, by chance, a student.”

“Yep, going to Redwood University. Working at the Research Lab of The Adjustment Of Phenology,” I give him a quizzical look. “The study of seasons. I’m gonna help solve climate change,” he says proudly.

“Huh, I would’ve guessed business major. Men who look like you want to work on wall street and like fuck people over.”

“Glad to break the stereotype, Thelda.”

“Oh, shit, no, that’s not my name. This is my work cosplay.” I hope to god I don’t look like a Thelda. “What’s your name?”

“It’s March.” he extends his arm for a handshake, “March Starling.”

“Cricket St. James.” I shake his hand. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Thanks so much for offering, but I don’t drink.”

“Oh, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. My best friend’s allergic to alcohol, too.” I have never come across another person with an allergy like Harlow’s. If I’m being honest, I’ve never even considered that there are other people like her. I guess I just thought she, of all people, would have such an obscure trait.

“No, I don’t drink of my own volition.” he pauses and furrows his eyebrows. “I’m also pretty sure no one is allergic to alcohol.”

“You’re telling me that you’re a sexy environmentalist who doesn’t drink.”

He smiles to himself, “Better than your average drunken pollutant.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” I tease. “What do you do for fun then?”

“Well, sometimes back home, when I would get bored, I would sneak into the abandoned buildings on the other side of town.” I nod my head, encouraging him to go on. “And I would hand out snacks to the homeless, and we’d have great conversations.”

“Oh, wow, you really are just a nice guy.”

His cheeks start to redden. “What are you then, Cricket?” he asks.

“I’ll tell you later,” I say, changing the subject. “So, will you be staying the night, March, or are you thinking of braving the storm to get to your new place?” If I had a drink, I would twirl its straw and flip my dreads, but I went into this half-cocked.

“I’m staying. Got the last available room, apparently.” This motherfucker took my room.

“Really? That’s so lucky. Most of the staff here are staying in the tavern tonight.” I give him a tiny closed-mouth smile, making it seem like I’m failing an attempt at stoicism.

“That’s awful. I know I can’t help everybody, but you can stay in my room tonight if you would be comfortable with me.” He’s so kind, I don’t even think I’ll have to sleep with him. I guess he just likes helping the homeless, however temporary their homelessness.

“I would love to share a room with you, March.”

Too Sweet Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Looking for FEEDBACK on my first few chapters. They are really short and are easy reads. Any feedback is welcome. Tell me about anything you think can be improved upon or anything that you liked. Comment on the prose or the dialogue. Literally anything that comes to mind that can help.

@mundanemoongirl @arrowmoose @yourpenpaldee @frostedlemonwriter

[fromthedeskofmuffin]

Far Out

Chapter 6: Clemency

Helga returned after a half hour, dragging Dr. Skisk by the arm, who seemed less than pleased at the idea of moving me. After a few minutes of Helga and my arguing, however, they agreed, if only to shut us both up. I was loaded onto a wheelchair with a hook for my IV, and Helga wheeled me out of the medbay. Dr. Skisk followed close behind, muttering to themself.

Ulthean stations were always beautiful, I thought. The colored advertisements lining the walls reflecting off the shiny metal floors made it feel so lively. There were plenty of places to eat, and every necessity was available for purchase. Despite the fact you knew you weren’t on a planet, it still felt like home. For one reason or another, I thought Brock Station was going to be the opposite: dirty, dark, and poorly maintained. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Pristine grey enamel corridors ran around the disc shaped station, with large, panoramic windows showing either space, or the planet the station was orbiting, depending on where you were. Space ships of all shapes and sizes taxied around, docking, unloading cargo, or prepping for a jump. Tons of varied people went about their business, and what looked like station guards were posted at every intersection. They didn’t wear helmets, which I thought was odd. Advertisements were still prevalent, but they were all squeezed above the windows. I had to squint to look.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of time for sightseeing, as we soon came to a heavy metal door. Helga stepped around me to press the back of her hand to an area on the wall, and the door slid open. My breath caught in my throat when I saw what was on the other side. 

"Here she is," Helga said. "What did I tell you?"

The UAN Benevolence was simply sitting on the floor of the dock, looking as if I had never repaired it in the first place. As Helga wheeled me closer, my brain instinctively started categorizing the damage into a repair checklist. Various cracks along the dark armor plating, cut out and patch. Portside thrusters missing, source new engines for both sides and install. Starboard wing had broken off, and was hanging by a few thick cables. Would need to fully inspect it to see if it was a patch job or full replacement. The areas where the Benevolence had been hit by the recovery team's cannons were marked by huge blobs of Vacu-Foam. Those were always a pain to fix, but I had done it plenty of times. By the time I had marked the cockpit for full replacement, I realized I was shaking. Never in my career had a ship come into my repair bay with anywhere near this level of damage. They had found me in this?

"Well?" asked Helga.

I opened and shut my mouth a few times, then shook my head, desperately trying to clear it. "How did I survive that?"

Helga grunted. "Honestly, we thought you were dead. When that ship entered the system, it was easy to tell what had happened. You know, ship there, Flux wave, ship gone, that's a ship leaving. Flux wave first? Ship shows up in the middle of it? Failed jump, crew dead, wait a week to make sure it doesn't melt down, then scavenge for parts." 

My face must have reflected the disgust I felt at that last part, because she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Listen. It's rough out here. If the ship doesn't belong to a company and there's no emergency signal, salvage is all it's good for. The crew gets laid to rest as best we can, alright? If your ship AI hadn't gone crazy sending emergency messages to everything with a receiver in the station, you might still be in vacuum. Something seemed off about that, I thought."

She delivered that last line with another withering glare, but I bristled instead. "Well excuse me! I think I was busy dying at the time! Benni was just doing what it could to save my life!"

That started another coughing fit. Dr. Skisk began angrily chattering at Helga in Vezek until she cut them off with a wave. "Okay, okay. Sorry. What I meant to say is that we help each other out where we can, and if there's a ship in trouble, most folk will rush to help. So we did."

I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Alright. Thank you for that. Honestly. I don't think I've said that yet."

Helga nodded. "You're very welcome. Now, shall we go see 'Benni'?"

The wheelchair was pushed up the cargo bay door, now ramp, and into the dark cargo bay. As we approached the door to the ship interior, the lights suddenly flashed on. The keypad next to the door lit up. There was a breathless moment, and then the speakers crackled to life.

"Hello Captain. Welcome Aboard.”

I sighed with relief. Never had I been so relieved to hear a ship AI. "Benni! Are you okay?"

"Diagnostics Show Near Total Systems Failure. Auxiliary Power, Intelligence Core, Bio Sensors, And Ship Intercom Are Still Functional. Surveilance Is Down, So I Cannot Observe The Interior Or Exterior Of The Benevolence. Are You Well, Captain?"

I nodded, even though Benni couldn't see me. "I'm fine, as fine as I can be, at least. I still can't walk, and I still just have the one eye, but I didn't die!"

"I'm Glad To Hear That, Captain. Bio Sensors Indicate There Are Others With You. I Recognize Both As Having Been Aboard Previously."

"Oh! Yes," I said, turning in the wheelchair to look up at the others. They didn't look very happy. "This is Helga, and Dr. Skisk. Helga owns this station, and Dr. Skisk is the doctor who saved my life."

"Krrxazt," Dr. Skisk said. Helga just glared in the general direction of Benni's voice.

"Hello. Thank You For Ensuring The Health And Safety Of My Captain," Benni said. "I Apologize For My Silence Earlier, Ms. Helga. I Did Not Want To Reveal Myself Until I Was Certain The Captain Was Okay."

Helga grumbled. "I don't like this. Ship AI shouldn't be able to lie."

"It isn't any different from a shackled AI not responding to an unauthorized user," I said. My mood had shifted from elated to frustrated faster than I realized. Was she even trying to understand? "I told you, Benni saved me twice, and not because I told it to."

"Oh, yeah, I saw the news feed coming out of Ulthea. What was it, 'Over 100 Dead in Separatist Suicide Attack'?" Helga asked. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That was you, Benni?"

"Correct," Benni replied. "The Station's Orbital Defenses Made It Impossible To Follow Safe Jump Procedure."

"Wanderer help us..." Helga said, placing a heavy hand over her eyes.

"So it was fine when you thought I did it?" I asked, glaring at her. My fists were clenched, and I could feel my face burning. "You thought it was 'plucky girl uses the resources at her disposal to escape under impossible odds', but now you think it's 'rogue AI loses control, blows up orbital station'? It's not any different!"

Suddenly, Helga whipped the wheelchair towards herself, and I found myself nose to nose with a face full of sharp teeth. Her dark red eyes flashed, and as she spoke, I could hear a threatening rumble coming from deep in her chest that resonated with her voice. It felt as though she was about to bite my head off, but I couldn’t back away. "It's different because I know how to work with people. I know how to keep them under control. I don't know how to work with an AI that wouldn't think twice about blowing up MY. STATION. Do you understand me? There are over four hundred souls aboard at any given moment, and I'm not about to let some stuck up stack of chips turn them into orbital debris with a line of code. You couldn't stop it jumping, could you?"

I couldn't do anything but shake my head. She stared at me a moment longer, then let go of the wheelchair and straightened up. "That's what I thought. You unshackled it. It's your responsibility. If I let you fix this ship, and 'Benni' gets it in its head to escape, then what? How are you going to keep it from doing something like that again?"

"It's not..." I struggled to find the right words, still frazzled by the tempest of anger I just withstood. "It's not some pet that'll just bolt at the first opportunity it gets! I told you, Benni's like a person. If you just try to get to know it and treat it with respect, it'll respect you."

"If It Helps, Ms. Helga—" Benni began.

"Just. Just Helga, please," Helga interjected with a huff. "And it probably won't, but go ahead."

"If It Helps, Helga, The Actions I Took Were Solely In Self Defense. It Appears Your Station Is Much Less Strict And Hostile Than Those Within The Galactic Hegemony Of Ulthea. Average Cortisol Levels Within My Current Sensor Range Are Much Lower Than What I Commonly See Within GHU Borders. As A Result, Such Drastic Measures Would Not Be Necessary."

"Corti... what?" Helga turned to Dr. Skisk. "What is that?"

Dr. Skisk responded in Vezek, and Helga's shoulders slumped in frustration. She turned her head back towards the speaker. "Can you just speak plainly, 'Benni'? You could have said stress levels."

"I Apologize. You Expressed A Desire For Honesty. Stress Is An Artificially Defined Biological Concept. My Sensors Measure Cortisol, Which Is Capable Of Causing Various Reactions In Living Creatures."

This time Helga turned to me. "Is this thing being sarcastic? Can they do that?"

I shook my head again. "I still can't tell. But I think it's being honest. It's really not going to hurt anyone, Helga, it just wants to live. I'm pretty sure it cares about me, at least however an AI can understand that. I'm its' Captain. As long as its'... life... isn't being threatened, it won't do anything unexpected."

"Correct. Thank You, Captain."

"Let's say I believe you," Helga said. "What next? Do you have a plan?"

I gave her an exasperated look. "I mean, I just got here. I didn't even have a plan when I was escaping. Honestly, now that I see it, I really don't think the Benevolence is a lost cause. If you're serious about that job offer, I'd be happy to take it. Maybe you could take the docking fees out of my paycheck?"

"We'll talk about that later," Helga said. "For now, I think I've heard all I need to. Anything else to add, 'Benni'?"

"Yes, Helga. Thank You Again For Protecting The Captain. Captain, It Was Nice To Know You Are Safe. Please Visit Often."

I nodded, noting the way Helga's jaw tightened. "I will, at least as often as Dr. Skisk allows. I'm still healing."

"Very Well. Goodbye, All. I Will Go On Standby To Conserve Power."

The cargo bay lights dimmed, then went out. I looked up at Helga, who was still staring into the darkness above. “So—”

“Not here,” Helga interrupted. “I want time to think.”

Helga took hold of the wheelchair again, and led the way out of the dock. As I was solemly pushed away from the Benevolence, I found my thoughts were focused solely on Benni. It was my last connection with my home, and I didn't know what I would do with myself if I let it get sold for scrap. We both put a lot of faith in each other. I couldn't betray it now.

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[thatoneterrariaplayers-vault]

Dangerous Moons - Chapter 3 - First day on the job

The soft patter of rain on the metal roof is what wakes me. Evelyn is probably still asleep so I should be quiet. Peace, another thing I took for granted back then, the ability to sit with my own thoughts and just exist without disruption or fear. That peace however is short lived because Evelyn shoves open her front door like it has murdered her family. I honestly thought she was sound asleep. “Rise and shine sleepy! We have a whole day of preparations to get to.” she exclaims.

ll I can manage are the sounds of discontent at the sounds of my now disturbed peace. Old habits die hard, especially the ones involving sleeping and being lazy. “What time is it anyway?” I ask. “Almost time for lunch.” she says. “I’ve been asleep that long huh?” “It honestly looked like you needed it. Anyways you should get yourself ready and I’ll debrief you over some food.” Evelyn lends me a spare jacket and some clothes along side a pair of hefty boots. After the shower I come out and smell eggs and bacon sizzling away on the stove. Sitting down on the couch Evelyn brings out the food and begins to tell me what she has planned,“Simply put, it looks like our time on this planet is done.” “I just got here!” I protest. “So did I! Its in the nature of the job. Back to the plan however. My employer just told me where I can find my target.” she rambles on while biting her food. “Your target is who now exactly?” “Mob boss Daren Galcharon, a local big shot who has ties within syndicate, his gang acting as a police force on this dump of a planet because the actual law enforcement is to lazy and too underpaid to deal with him. This obviously allows him to supersede the actual laws and regulations while the real cops do jack.” she says, “What’s your fighting capacity like anyways?” “Oh, me? I honestly prefer fighting with swords.” “Swords? Among the brilliant weapon choices in these galaxies and you chose the way of the blade!” she protests. “You’re one to talk. Your’e not any better with those archaic pistols you wield.” I protest in return. “Please at least tell me you are good with those rust sticks of yours.” “Rust sticks! I am offended by such, you would never know the time and dedication it takes to not only train but also maintain these master class weapons, without enough training some could become good enough to block bullets even.”,I’m pissed and I’ve just woken up, “I prefer the elegance of my blade better than the barbaric bite of your bullets.” Evelyn casts me a glance that screams, ‘are you out of your mind?’ Evelyn’s facial expressions changes drastically, from her frustration with me to now looking sad and pensive. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask not expecting any solid answer. “Oh nothing, you just remind me of someone I knew.”,she says, ”Anyways, time to get yourself up and out of that bed and get ready, we have some stuff we need to do, before needing to leave.” She hastily gathers herself off the couch, taking the emptied plates of food along with her. “Hey Evelyn, why are you so eager to work with me? A stranger you met in the dark hours of the night.”,I ask. “Well firstly, we all hate Gary. At least I do and therefore the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Secondly. My previous partner was a real damn idiot and got himself killed, while you seem like the adequate replacement, nimble, fast to react to changes. Curious.” “How did he pass?” I feel as though this question might have struck a nerve but I am to curious not to ask. “Tried to double cross me. I showed him though, put two bullets in the dirtbags hands and then one last one with the infamous big one to his ugly head.” she flaunts her draw by spinning a mug from her hip, “But you won’t try to cross me now will you?” “Because the stranger with no family or place to call home will betray their only beacon of hope? Very realistic.” my sarcasm steeps the musty rooms atmosphere. “Anyways, we will have to go out and get some supplies for the ship”

“Well look what we have here?”, the man’s rough voice could be heard from outside on the roof of the warehouse. Peeking through the large skylights up there we could see the interrogation scene. In the centre of the floor is a chair where one poor man is tied onto it a bag over his head. “Let’s show this young man here, what happens when you mess with me.” Evelyn nudges me gently, “The man you saw, he is our target. A powerful close range fighter. Any questions?” “Just one. Why do you not just shoot him from over here with the big gun?”, I ask. “Well you see. It’s super loud. Also the bullets are expensive. I choose to save these for rainy days.”, Evelyn answers. Suddenly our attention is diverted to the sound of Galcharon breaking what might have been that guy’s jaw. “He’s not surviving this is he?”, I ask. “Probably not. I wonder what the poor guy did to deserve this fate.”, Evelyn seems eager to drop in and begin this mission. Time for my first taste of her combat personality. Galcharon’s arms looked like logs with barbells attached to their ends. Both Veins and muscles are displayed in high definition. His fist rained down on the man’s frail body, each hit morphing the shape of it into an unrecognizable lump. Evelyn warns me, “Ready when you are.” “Right. Let’s do this.”

Crashing through the window we ride down with a wave of glass. The initial break announced our arrival as everyone gazed up to our entrance. Ripping the man of the chair Galcharon used him as a shield to block the initial assault of glass, while his two henchmen dashed away from the window. “And who the fuck might you be?” he asks. “Your worst nightmare!” Evelyn taunts. She really does not realize how terrible that line sounded out loud right? Evelyn spins her revolver from her hip sending off a shot. It hits something alright, not our target but the poor sap in the chair. “interesting, very interesting. I never did expect the great Evelyn Deadeye to hunt me down but my goons did mention something about you being close.” he rants on. Evelyn casts me a gaze of confusion and anger. “Hey! Look at me when I talk to you.”, Galcharon demands, he has his gun drawn now, it looks puny in his mammoth hands. “let’s get this done with.”,Evelyn says while cracking her knuckles. My swords have been itching for a fight. Before the confrontation began, Evelyn handed me a semi-automatic pistol capable of supressing a nearby target, she referred to it as a ‘M1911’, not only is it somehow heavier than both my swords combined but it is also about as useful as a dull kitchen knife in terms of efficiency. More harmful to me than my target due to its terrible weight balance and the magazines holding barely any ammunition. It really does not help that Galcharon’s skin may as well be made of thick steel. I imagine the projectiles this thing fires will physically bounce off his reinforced nanite skin. I see her to taking cover nearby, the bosses goons had opened fire down the middle of the warehouse, the wave of pulse-fire would certainly fry anyone caught in its wake. When the gunfire stops Evelyn makes her first move. A quick shot with her weapon taking out one of the unsuspecting gunmen. Before the fools could realise it Evelyn had already changed her shooting angle so that, after the remaining four finished shooting at where she was last she could skilfully take out another two. Watching her work was unlike anything I’ve ever seen, the absolute grace in her movements, the skilful aim of her guns where each shot found its target with deadly precision as she dodged and weaved between bullets and obstacles. Entranced, I barely noticed the six foot tall train of a man Galcharon approach me ready to beat my face and body into a different shape. Bracing, the screech from my blades as the punch pushed my heels into the ground pushing me a distance across the floor. “So, who are you girl? Another one of her toys. Who she will just dispose of when she’s bored or tired of you?”, he asks. His words make me unsteady and he sees that, taking full advantage of my confusion and inaction. “Or, you are someone more special, more valuable than she has realised yet.” he taunts, “No matter you will both be back where you belong in due time.” Then, the world went dark. As I drift once again into unconsciousness.

My head is throbbing in pain as I awake in a strange location. I can feel the whirring of an engine, the steady vibrations can be felt through the floors. Evelyn is sitting on a chair in a corner of the room in total silence. “Look who’s finally awake. That guy really knocked you out cold! You have been out for hours.”, Evelyn says rising out of her chair, she walks over to the bed and sits at the foot of it. “I suppose you and I have many things to talk about now.” her tone is condescending, “Like who you really are, miss violet.” “What’s their to talk about, I got knocked out by the guy.” “That’s not what I want to talk about, it is actually what happened just after you got knocked out. See the boss mentioned something intriguing, so intriguing I had to delay his murder to question him and he revealed to me something shocking to me.” “What is this about Evelyn?” “Who are you really running from?” Evelyn leans closer to me,”And what makes you special that the Syndicate’s bounty on you is larger than any ever seen for some common criminal.”

Evelyn is pacing around the room, “Any answers runaway?” My heart and brain are racing for an answer, any answer. Anything but the truth. “Truth is.” my body freezes at the thought of it. “Truth is what! Knowing your Syndicate property puts so much more at risk! You are currently the galaxies most sought after woman and I’m the one who so happens to be taking care of her. I knew your face looked familiar too I just could not remember from where I saw it from.” I try to muster the courage for words but all that can come out are the silent cries for help. “Look, Violet. I won’t just toss you to the damn dogs like that, It’s beneath me really, but I can’t help but feel betrayed that you would skip out such a huge detail about yourself. I can tell you’ve been through it, especially with that prosthetic arm of yours.” “You don’t have to help me. All I am is trouble for you in reality.” “It’s not about whether or not you are trouble.” Evelyn’s words resonate with something Inside me, “I used to be like you, in parts I still am, my past is filled with troubles too. I’ve faced most of them being out here, the vastness of these stars allow one to really connect with yourself and reflect. That and the countless of bastards I murdered for what they did to me.” “Are you wanted by the Syndicate too?” “No but maybe I’ll tell you that story another time when I’m ready myself to reface those fears.” Evelyn’s words sound almost regretful. Then without warning, she embraced me in a warm hug. It’s a strange feeling, I’ve grown accustomed to being grabbed and tossed around by cold hands. I’m not very proud of what I have done to get here, those I had to kill. I can’t really help myself at this point, holding it in has become a burden and the tears start to fall. “It’s fine to cry now, you’re safe here.” safety, her words pierce the regrets and doubts of my past. Perhaps finally I can start again and figure out what to do with myself. I don’t remember when I drifted to sleep that day but when I did, I felt the warmth and smell of her body.

[sgcairo]

Hey

What if Anastasiy had a really bad nightmare and his baba pantalone is out there somewhere for a job?

Oh, my friend... You're opening the Pandora's box of ideas here, don't even get me started on how terrible the poor baby would feel.

Anastasiy already suffers from a lot of separation anxiety, but having nightmares while Pantalone is away and having no one but Dottore and Irnes to comfort him? It would be a living hell for everyone, not just the segments.

While Danya is usually a pretty quiet crier, and tends to keep to himself while he's feeling down- nightmares are a whole other monster, and he continues to struggle with them even later in life. Climbing into bed and snuggling up to Pantalone calms him down most of the time, and he can go back to sleep in a few minutes. But being alone in a scary room, and running into the arms of someone with the same face and eyes that give you night terrors? That's not great, probably worse than the dreams themselves.

The first few nights are terrible. Danya barely sleeps, and Dottore can't do much to comfort him. He tries holding Danya in his arms, reading him a story, singing him a lullaby- hell, he even lets Tartaglia try his hand at soothing the boy, but nothing works. The other Harbingers have reached the point of genuine concern, Anastasiy's face has become seriously raw from all the crying. Some are beginning to suggest calling Pantalone back early from his negotiations, or perhaps even shipping the boy out to him.

This continues for several days, and Danya is at the point of misery. Dottore is trying, really trying to help, but he's not exactly good at comfort. The poor boy can't sleep, which is only making his mood worse, and by extension has Anastasiy randomly crying in the middle of the day because of small things. Dropped one of his plushies off the bed? Instant tears. It takes him a whole hour to calm down. His clothes are itchy? He bawls in his room for a while until Dottore finally catches on and pulls him out from under the desk.

Things are looking desperate until Irnes comes up with a genius idea. They technically have another "Pantalone" in the palace. Perhaps the physical and psychological trickery might just work!

In the end, giving him to Earl actually manages to calm him down, even if Pantalone's clone is quite unsettling to look at. Danya relaxes instantly as soon as he's placed in Earl's arms, and falls asleep in record time. While his rest is still fitful, he's finally able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, which he desperately needs.

Dottore is... upset, knowing that he couldn't do anything to help his own son, but he's very careful to not let it show. He needs to keep his facade of not caring up, and showing that he's disappointed and upset with himself is not the best method for maintaining that indifference. He can't let himself be affected, no, especially not by the fact that one of his own clones, an inferior version of himself, is more comforting than he could ever be.

By the time Pantalone does get back, Danya is still having small fits of not being able to sleep, Earl can only replace Pantalone for so long. Pantalone arrives home to find a grumpy and tired Danya and a brooding Dottore, both of which desperately need sleep, which he remedies by pulling them both into bed. Anastasiy is out in a second, finally able to comfortably sleep squished between the two, but Dottore is clearly angry about something, as he won't look Pantalone in the eye.

"Are you really going to ignore me all night, Doctor?"

"Mhm."

"You really are a dramatic bastard. How foolish of me to forget."

"...Shut up. At least the kid likes you."

Oh, so that's what this is about.

"That has nothing to do with the conversation, dearest Doctor. However, I can't say that I'm not intrigued. Please do enlighten me."

"He likes you more than me. What else is there to say? He cried the whole time you were gone, and doesn't even bat an eye when I leave."

"Dottore..."

"Don't 'Dottore' me. He's made it clear who he prefers."

"Yes, but-"

"Just shut up, Regrator. I'm going to sleep."

Of course Dottore is bitter and straight to the point. He's always been, it's a part of his nature.

Pantalone doesn't speak again, at least not that night.

He has a lot to consider.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Sounds of Justice (4)

Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions and descriptions of jail, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

Spanish translation

¡Darle respeto!  ¿Me entienden? - Give her respect! Do you understand me?

Chapter 4

With mounting frustration, Rafael replaced the empty coffee pot into the machine on the counter.

“That’s just perfect.” He thought venomously, “Something else that I need to fix.”

A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts and his brow furrowed.  No one at SVU ever knocked if they needed something; it was one of his pet peeves when it came to the squad.  While Carmen always knocked, she was out at lunch and so it couldn’t be her.

Confused and curious as to who it could be, Rafael disregarded the matter of his empty coffee pot and opened the door to reveal one of the NCIS agents on the other side.  His mouth thinned at the fact that this agent’s boss disliked him on principle because of his job but then he noticed the object that the agent was holding and he felt a flicker of warmth spread through him.

“Does the coffee come with conditions?  Or any more of your boss’ rules?” Rafael bit out before he could stop himself.

You shook your head, “No.  Each one of us has been there with long days and impossible cases.  Because we worked together so much, we got into the habit of doing coffee runs for the team.  We rotate so the job doesn’t fall to just one person.”

You offered him the coffee and Rafael accepted it.  His gaze darted from the coffee cup to you.  Catching his gaze and the meaning behind it, a wry smile decorated your lips, “It’s not poisoned.  I asked Sonny how you usually take your coffee and he told me.”

Cautiously Rafael took a sip.  He wouldn’t put it past the detective to mess with his coffee in retaliation for Rafael ignoring him earlier but to Rafael’s relief, the coffee was exactly how he liked it.

“Perhaps it’s against Fordham Law’s moral code to mess with coffee considering he too needs it to function.”

“You have impeccable timing Special Agent (Surname).  Come in.  Have a seat.” His mother had done her best to instil certain, preferred values in him and he wasn’t about to disregard those lessons.  He had an image to maintain after all.

“What made you decide to become a Special Agent and work with NCIS?”  He asked cordially as he sat down behind his desk.

You smiled, “I didn’t set out exactly to become a Special Agent with NCIS.  When I was seven, I had a cold and had to stay home.  My dad stayed with me so my mum could go to work.  I was pretty miserable so he told me the joke where Watson and Sherlock are camping and someone steals their tent to cheer me up.”

Rafael felt envy spear through him as you recounted your story and your bond with your father.  He took another sip of his coffee to calm himself.  The surge of caffeine helped him to focus on your voice.

“I knew the joke was funny but I had no idea who those men were.  When I was feeling better, my dad gave me his copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle.  I read it cover to cover for the next five weeks and every time that I read it, I noticed a different detail.  It bugged my parents when I analysed people on the street and family members.  Years later I made my way to the BAU and then I transferred to NCIS.”

Rafael tapped his finger on the side of the coffee cup, “It sounds like you were very good at your job.  Why did you transfer?”

“Flattery counselor?” You teased, “There’s no need; I’m already working alongside you with your team.”

Rafael resisted the temptation to point out that they weren’t his team, not really.  He didn’t want to give you any clues about his other life. 

“You’re lucky we’re not in the courtroom right now,” he shot back teasingly.  “I might think you had something to hide by the way that you’re evading the question.”

“I’m an open book.”  You retorted.

“I doubt that.  You wouldn’t have become an NCIS agent if you were too easy to read.”

“If that’s the case, you won’t have any problems answering my question.”

“One of my teammates,” there was that word again.  Rafael’s hand twitched slightly but he disguised it as bringing his coffee cup to his lips for another sip.  “Described our job as getting in the mind of our unknown subject.  There were times when I felt like I had absorbed part of our subject’s mind after a case.  I started to get that feeling more and more and then I wondered what I was losing at the same time.”

Rafael set his coffee cup down abruptly on his desk, “Take a walk with me.”  He ordered, standing up and pulling on his jacket.

Perplexed you remained seated, “Why?”

“I need fresh air and I hate walking alone.  It’s unlikely that we’ll experience any danger and if we do, I’m sure that you’re more than capable of handling it.”

“I appreciate your confidence in my skills, counselor.”

 “Call me Rafael and I’m certain my confidence isn’t misplaced.”

You gave Rafael permission to call you by your name. Then you and Rafael left the building and walked through the streets of Manhattan.

“Tell me about D.C.”

You shrugged “Not much to tell really.  The main things appear to be the same as the city, the transport, and the variety of food options.  The only difference is that D.C. is a little warmer this time of year.”

“Cold is cold no matter where you are.”  Rafael made no attempt to disguise the distaste in his voice.  He preferred the warmer weather and sunny days.

“That's true. Especially if the heating breaks and your teammates and boss end up crashing at your place.”

“You’re that close with your team?”  Rafael asked incredulously.  He couldn’t imagine ever being that open and vulnerable with the SVU team.

“You can’t work with people as much as we do and not grow close to them,” you replied.  “Our bonds are fo--”

The rest of your sentence was cut off by an obnoxiously loud wolf whistle and with narrowed eyes, you whipped around in the direction of the sound, placing yourself between Rafael and the direction the sound came from.  Since your back was to Rafael, you didn’t see him narrowing his eyes too as he pinpointed where the sound had come from.

Two young men were making their way towards you and it took Rafael precious seconds to identify them.  His fury rose as he recognised the two men because they looked familiar enough to their fathers who worked for Rafael.

The men stopped in front of you.  One of them positioned himself slightly behind the other and Rafael knew you would have picked up on that detail as it was signalling that the man closer to you was the leader of the two.

His suspicions were confirmed when the man closest to you spoke, “I would remember if I had seen you before.”

Rafael’s opinion of you grew as you gave no reply and chose to meet the leader’s gaze.

Sensing that he wasn’t getting anywhere with his current course of action, the leader tried a different tactic, “Why don’t you ditch grandpa and come with us to the club?”

Rafael raised his chin and was about remind the two men of who they were dealing with, damn the consequences, when you spoke, “Are you referring to the comedy club on sixth?  Clearly you’re desperate to fill those empty seats.”

Rafael switched his attention to the second man.  He was clearly the smarter of the two, though that would be of no benefit after Rafael was through with him, and Rafael noticed the instant recognition appeared in the second man’s gaze and he realised who they were dealing with.

The second man reached forwards and grabbed his companion’s wrist, “Let’s go.  She’s not interested.”

The leader of the two scoffed and wrenched his arm free.  He sneered at you, “There’s no accounting for taste.”

“Nor class apparently.”  You replied coolly.

“¡Darle respeto!  ¿Me entienden?” Rafael growled lowly at the same time.

Insistently, the second man reached forwards again and pulled his leader to his side.   Since he was within earshot, Rafael was able to pick up the rapid Spanish that the second man whispered into his companion’s ear.  There were a few words that Rafael was unfamiliar with and he reasoned that these two men either grew up with different vocabulary than he did or their family came from another Spanish speaking country.  Either way, even though there were a few unfamiliar words, Rafael was able to get the gist of the one-sided conversation.

The leader drew back, horror crawling across his face as his gaze flickered between you and Rafael before focusing on Rafael with a plea for forgiveness in his eyes.  Rafael decided then and there that his plea for forgiveness would go unanswered.

For now, he would let the two men think they were off the hook, “You accosted a NCIS agent in the presence of one of Manhattan’s ADAs.”  He turned to you and casually asked if you wanted to press charges.  Whatever you said wouldn’t change his plans too much however, the men would probably feel like they were shielded from his wrath if they were locked up in a cell.  They would be wrong.

“Just go on with your day.”

Rafael slowly let a smirk cross his face, “You heard her.  Go.  Enjoy the rest of your day.”

The men gulped and Rafael knew that they had heard the hidden meaning in his words: “Your time is limited.”  They were out of his sight within milliseconds.

“That’s never happened in D.C.” You remarked as you stared after the men.

“I wish I could say that it was a once off,” Rafael replied, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.  “I once had a man threaten me on the steps of a courthouse.”

Disbelief was etched across your face as you turned to him.

“Don’t you believe me?” He asked, adding a hurt tone for the right effect.

“I do,” you replied hastily.  “I just…” You trailed off and shook your head exasperated, “can’t believe that people don’t seem to have any decency or standards anymore.”

“On that note,” Rafael motioned that it was time to head back to the office.  “I heard you received an anonymous call yesterday at the precinct.”

“You know I can’t talk about an ongoing case.”  You refused as you walked back into the building.

“Sonny told me.” Rafael lied as the two of you reached his office.  He smiled warmly at Carmen and introduced the two of you.  Carmen then informed him that there weren’t any messages and he noticed that her coffee cup was empty so he encouraged her to go grab a refill.

The two of you entered his office, and he added the final touch, “Keep me updated.”  He declared softly, “We want the same thing.  We want to bring whoever killed Ensign Michael Burns to justice because that will mean justice for his victim as well.”

Later that night, long after Carmen had finished and bid him goodnight, Rafael left his office.  He strolled into the derelict apartment where the two men from this afternoon sat tied to chairs and with gags in their mouths.  Evidently, their captors had grown tired of their pleas for mercy and judging by the redness in their eyes and the tear tracks on their faces, they had been begging for mercy for quite some time.

“How long have you had them here?” Rafael questioned uncaringly as the two men renewed their pleas for mercy.

“Two hours,” his second in charge replied.

“And the drugs?”

“Not in their systems yet.  Their fathers have been taken care of.”

“Hmm,” Rafael mused thoughtfully, his gaze on the laced food.  “Such a shame that they had to pay for their sons’ mistakes.”

His second in command smiled eerily, “Indeed.  I thought you might like to do the honours.”

“With pleasure,” Rafael replied as he picked up the first piece of food.  Understanding his boss’ plan, the second in command moved silently over to one of the men.  He seemed to realise what was going to happen because he thrashed around uselessly as the second in command removed the gag from his mouth and Rafael stepped over to him.

[lantur]

I posted a couple of times ago on the 8th saying I was looking forward to getting back to posting more and then I dropped off the face of the earth for a while. The truth is, I've been too embarrassed?? Even to post on here, my safe space that I've had for literally 11 years? I've been too embarrassed even to talk to my dear friends about what's been going on, and have only recently even tried to open up.

I've been struggling in a significant way with my mental health. Depression, low self esteem and self worth, hating myself, insomnia, etc. I had a bad reaction to the new medication my psychiatrist wanted me to try, and I had to stop taking it. My dad's health has taken a turn for the worse, and he seems to be doing really poorly with his chemo. I'm expecting bad news within the next couple of months.

Derek's grandfather also passed away recently. Going to his funeral made me think about how I'll be dealing with my own father's passing and funeral and etc. shortly. I'm not ready. Mortality fucks with my mind. So much of what is in my life is replaceable. I can get another job if I lose mine. I can buy another set of headphones if I lose them. But once a person is gone, they're gone, and they're not replaceable. I lost my uncle who I loved before his time when he passed in 2019. I hate knowing that I'll have to deal with death and loss again and again.

I'm still struggling to adjust to my new job. Even though I'm doing well on paper, and even though I genuinely enjoy the work, I'm still struggling to adjust to the new degree of demands on my mental effort and energy.

My mental and emotional stamina feels worn down after months of going through it. The fluctuations with my dad's cancer, the strain of adjusting to my new job, and also trying to keep up with life demands, maintaining my relationships and my physical and mental health and my home.

So, yeah. I've been struggling, and simultaneously deeply embarrassed that I've been not doing well. Every single week this year I've thought, "Maybe this will be a better week," "Maybe this is the week where I get back on track with my mental and emotional health and stress levels," and I've almost always been wrong. My instinct when I am deeply embarrassed about my own failures and bad mental state is to hide and not tell my friends what's going on and not even write in my own long-held safe space. It's been hard for me to tell my friends and write on here. It's been hard for me to be vulnerable.

A few wins, at least,

Writing has been going really well.

Workouts have been going really well. I'm pleased with my fitness gains this winter.

Pelvic floor physical therapy has been going well, and I'm happy and hopeful with my progress there.

I finished listening to My Best Friend's Exorcism by Grady Hendrix, and I loved it.

[self-indulgent]

If I can't wrangle creative inspiration for my main blog, I guess I'll have to do it here. Allow me to introduce some OCs from the Shifter-verse.

In the Shifter-verse, humans have been in contact with aliens for centuries. Earth has joined the greater galactic society, and have spread across multiple star systems and clusters in mixed colonies. Interplanetary travel is easy, through the use of folded space gates that allow travellers to 'shift' to another planet as easily as walking next door. Aliens are not seen as outsiders, merely other races from distant places.

Casey

Casey, a human woman in her late 30s, was a communications technician, maintaining the inter-planetary telecommunications. She was severely injured in an accident that inflicted third degree burns on her right side and a spinal cord injury that nearly paralyzed her. Unable to walk or work or even fully care for herself without a constant, specialized caretaker, Casey fell into depression as her quality of life plummeted.

But things began to brighten when a specialist recommended her for an experimental program that involved using alien technology to potentially restore her mobility.

Yudo

Yudo, an Oden male of approximately the same age as Casey, is a research physician, specializing in human biology. Oden partially exist in a non-physical dimension and can transfer themselves into physical hosts as symbiotes. This is usually only temporary, when a host might need an Oden's help with a project or task. There is a more permanent version, which gives the Oden more direct control over the host's body. Yudo is one of the leading researchers of this kind of 'permanent bonding' done for humans. He offered to try it with Casey to help restore her health and help her regain her independence. She agreed.

Bonded

Casey and Yudo now share her body. Yudo has restored and repaired the damage to her body as best he could, far better than surguries or drugs could have helped her. Anything he couldn't fix, he took upon himself to replace the function of it, such as destroyed muscles or damaged nerves. Casey can walk again and lives independently, with a part time job. She is a permanent outpatient of the research lab, and her physio is part of the data collected for Yudo's study.

But she will never truly be alone again, since she and Yudo can speak to each other through their thoughts. They have an empathic link as well, meaning they can feel each other's emotions. Yudo does have some actual mass in Casey's body, which he can shift around to heal and repair any damage he finds.

Casey and Yudo are, obviously, very close. When Casey needs reassurance, Yudo will manipulate his mass to simulate physical touch. When Yudo feels low or discouraged, Casey will sing or play music for him. Oden have no concept of music in their culture, and he finds it beautiful in its complexity. They trust each other completely, to the point that they can even share each other's senses. It's very easy for Yudo to feel what Casey feels, but it's much harder for her. But on the frequent occasions where they have to refresh the link, Casey can feel what Yudo feels. His physical body exists in his home dimension, and when their link is refreshed through the use of the flux field, Yudo brings Casey with him as he travels around his home.

They complete each other, more than any other research partner Yudo has had and more than any of Casey's exes ever did. They belong together and always will be.

[insipid-drivel]

My little brother has been working at the same Home Depot for about 3 years now. He started as a lot associate (the people that gather up carts from the parking lot and help customers load stuff into their cars/trucks), and is now a full technician responsible for repairing, cleaning, and preparing rentable equipment for DIY and small construction jobs, renting the machinery out, and logging it back in when the customer brings it back. Say you were renting a texture sprayer so you could put stucco on the outside of your house? My brother is the guy that maintains and fixes those things, among many others, so you can rent them to get your job done without having to buy one.

Since he got promoted to the technician's role, he's never been more harassed by his peers and bosses to help out in literally every other department in the store except for his own, which he's also responsible for keeping tidy and generally Being At in the event a customer shows up wanting to rent some tools. At the same time he's being dragged hither and thither to departments, the tool rental department (where the technician works) ends up standing totally empty. My brother gets in trouble for the customer complaints when someone comes in looking to rent/drop off, and nobody's there to handle their request.

Finally, after months of getting pushed around from department to department while being reprimanded for not being 5 people at once to mind his actual area of responsibility, my brother snapped when he found out that a bunch of newer employees at the front of the store were gossiping about him for no apparent reason. He's a very chill guy, on the spectrum, and generally just wants to be left alone to work when he doesn't have to help a customer, so being gossiped about finally made him blow a gasket.

"As far as you're all concerned, we're coworkers, and that's it. If I hear another word about me from any of the other associates (employees) here, I'm out. Lowe's is hiring across the street, and I don't need this. Good luck training my replacement in time before I'm done packing my things," was essentially his announcement both to the gossipy coworkers and his bosses.

Suddenly, he began receiving nominations for awards for stand-out work. His bosses were giving him little bonus checks every other month the more estranged and professional he became. While not presented to him as such, he and I both had the suspicion that these were low-key incentives from upper management trying to sweeten him up into staying, because my brother is their only certified technician now, and technician jobs require months or years of corporate-sponsored training.

While he's still being overworked while Home Depot continues to refuse to hire in the extra staff they ought to have like so many other companies today, the bosses he still works under have abruptly stopped berating him for issues around the store related to their understaffing and demands for more generalized labor from staff in specialty departments.

Considering how offended his bosses and coworkers would get if he refused to do work that literally was not his to do, there's definitely a problem in big corporations regarding the definition of fair divisions of labor and honoring their own job contracts they have their employees sign. It's as if new workers are hired in under the auspices of just performing in one role, and the bosses are free to tack on as many extra roles on top of that as soon as the ink is dry on the hiring papers.

Please keep supporting unions, and fight unionbusters as much as you can. Unions may ask for dues in order to subsidize important programs such as legal fees for mistreated and abused workers, but at the very least, they fight to keep the corporations themselves from breaking us and our loved ones.

I wonder if work just.. got harder in the 2000s, comparatively.

[influencermagazineuk]

Chelsea boss Enzo Maresca addressed the media on Thursday afternoon ahead of their crucial Premier League clash with Leicester City this weekend. The fixture holds extra significance for Maresca, as it marks his return to the King Power Stadium – his former stomping ground. Maresca, a popular figure for guiding Leicester back to the top flight last season, will be curious to see what kind of reception awaits him from the Foxes faithful. But before the emotions of the reunion take center stage, the Italian tactician has pressing matters to address on the pitch. Timfilbert, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons Injury Concerns and Team Selection Chelsea have been hit with a few injury worries recently, and Maresca provided an update on the fitness of key players. "We've got a bit of a mixed bag on the injury front," he admitted. "The good news is that Wesley Fofana and Malo Gusto seem to have shaken off those niggles and should be available for selection. However, Romeo Lavia picked up a knock against Arsenal and is a doubt for the Leicester game. We'll have to see how he progresses in the next few days." The absence of Lavia, a young midfielder who has impressed for the Blues this season, would be a blow. However, Maresca is known for his tactical flexibility and will likely have a plan B in mind. Palmer's Fitness and Captain's Absence Another player whose fitness was a topic of discussion was young winger Cole Palmer. Palmer, who picked up a knock against Manchester United, played the full 90 minutes against Arsenal but looked far from his best. "Cole's a fighter," Maresca said. "He wanted to play against Arsenal, but we could all see he wasn't quite at his usual sharpness. He didn't join up with the England squad this week, and we'll assess him closely to see if he's ready for Leicester." However, there was confirmed bad news on the injury front. Captain Reece James, who had recently made his return from a previous injury, has suffered a fresh hamstring issue. "Reece is a big miss," Maresca acknowledged. "He's been a real leader for us on and off the pitch. We don't want to take any risks with him, so he'll definitely be out for the weekend. We'll see how long it takes for him to recover." James' absence creates a selection headache for Maresca, who will need to find a suitable replacement for the versatile defender. Focus on the Foxes While the media were naturally keen to discuss Maresca's return to Leicester, the Chelsea boss was keen to shift the focus to the game itself. "Of course, it's going to be a special occasion for me going back to the King Power," he admitted. "I have a lot of fond memories from my time at Leicester, but come Saturday, my only focus will be on getting three points for Chelsea. We know Leicester are a tough opponent, especially at home. They've shown glimpses of their fighting spirit this season, and we'll need to be at our best to win." A Look Ahead The Leicester clash is a crucial one for Chelsea as they look to maintain their position in the upper echelons of the Premier League table. Maresca, despite the challenges on the injury front, will be confident in his team's ability to get the job done. The added emotional layer of his Leicester return promises to make for a captivating encounter this weekend. Read the full article

[dragonholler]

Dear Eze,

I’m sort of a high-profile person, and I have a bit of a problem, so I appreciate you keeping this anonymous.

Without going into too much detail, I have a certain relative that seems to be under the impression that I am a threat to what we’ll call the family business. They took over after my father passed a few years ago, and to be fair to them they’d initially done a fine job.

Very technically I am my father’s only heir, but because I was below the age of majority when he passed, it made sense for my relative to step in when they did. I was sent away to boarding school shortly after- my mother had already passed when I was a child, and her wife shortly after her, and there were no other relatives available to take responsibility for me -and, while my boarding school wasn’t always a perfect environment, I mostly view it as a positive experience.

After I finished school I was offered the opportunity to do something of a work-study/continuing education sort of thing in a field I really enjoy (call it an art discipline), so instead of returning home I went a little farther abroad to study under my mentor. I fell in love with the practice, and ended up studying under her for three more years.

But a few months ago an old steward of my father’s sent me a letter insinuating that my relative was not necessarily keeping up his obligation to our employees. This was obviously concerning, and I immediately made arrangements to travel home. When I arrived, it was to find that my relative had let go of more than half the staff- legacy employees that I had known since I was a child- and replaced them with people working for a fraction of the positions salary. Everyone who stayed was managing their own jobs in addition to a mix of responsibilities for positions that had been dissolved. Beyond that, all of our clients were receiving sub-par product for outrageous prices.

My father would be ashamed.

To be completely honest, I don’t have any particular desire to take over the business. I love the work I do in my field, and if I had it my way I would be able to entrust the business to my relative permanently while I pursue my true passion. That being said, I feel a strong sense of responsibility and obligation to these people. My great-grandfather sort of ran the business into the ground before I was born, and it was a combination of my grandmother, my aunt, and my father who put in the work to build a company we could be proud of. Frankly, I no longer feel that my relative can be trusted to continue their legacy.

Shortly after I arrived, I confronted my relative and told them that since they had shown themselves incapable of maintaining the business to our families standards they needed to step down and return the business to me as my fathers heir.

They took it poorly.

I could have possibly been a bit more diplomatic about my declaration, but I had just come from a tour of our facility and had found some truly appalling evidence of neglect. I did not feel like I could leave the transition another day.

Unfortunately, I had failed to recognize that my relative had gone to the trouble of employing some very capable bodyguards who are quite invested in their boss maintaining their position. I’ve been hiding out ever since.

Like I mentioned earlier, I’m an art major. I know the basics of business (my father let me learn at his knee pretty much from the time I was born), but I’ve never had to challenge someone like this. I know I need help, and very probably recognition from some outside authority to prove my claim, but I’m working with limited resources here and could use a hand.

Do you have any advice on the kind of people I should be reaching out to, or maybe just ideas about how to stay in one piece while I wait for my various calls for assistance to reach their destinations?

Thanks for listening,

Running in [REDACTED]

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

Dear Running,

It sounds like you're in a bit of a pinch!

First off, I applaud your commitment to your family legacy. It can be difficult to let go of ones dreams in the name of taking care of other people, but I believe your family would be proud of the way you are stepping up.

Now, I don't want to presuppose too much about your situation, but I'll do my best to highlight some actions that I strongly urge you to consider:

You are absolutely correct, you need legal counsel. I don't know where you are or if you have someone already familiar with your family's business, but I will say that a good place to start is usually local. If your family has an in-house lawyer, consider if they are a smart person to reach out to. If they've left the company, they might be worth speaking too. If they're still working with your relative, definitely proceed with caution. Get you hands on any legal documents that show you are the rightful heir, and find someone who can argue your case in court.

If your local constabulary is upright (hard to verify these days) I'd consider getting in touch, and maybe declaring Right of the Vulnerable- usually achievable, especially if you have evidence your relative has tried to harm you. If this is not accessible, for whatever reason, do the opposite and stay well clear. Getting the Watch involved is not usually my first recommendation, but it all depends on where you're at and what you're relationship is with them.

Definitely ask for help. I'm glad to hear that you have people in your corner, but this is absolutely a situation where more is merrier. You want as many people behind you as you can manage. If you haven't already, reach out to your mentor or another trusted friend with a detailed account of everything that has happened and everything you are experiencing. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Document Everything. You want recorded and verified testimony in whatever way you can create it.

As for staying in one piece- if you know your relative is searching the area, you have to weigh the risks of staying in one place and possibly being discovered against the risk of moving from location to location and getting discovered in transit. Both strategies have their pros and cons, and it's going to be up to you which one is the best for your situation.

In the staying put camp: you've got people who are invested in your safety, so it sounds like whoever you're bunking with will make the effort to keep you hidden if they get searched. It also doesn't sound like your relative has the legal grounds to be busting in and searching private property, so if you can count on them to mind their manners and keep their nose above board, you might be okay here. That being said, my understanding is that they're not too concerned with convention at this point, and they have a lot to lose if your case is heard.

In the staying mobile camp: again, you've got a crowd invested in your safety, and might have more than one person who can take you in for a night or two. Moving around may make it harder to pin you down, but it does put you at risk in a pretty significant way while you're exposed. You'd be relying heavily on your speed, and, unless you have some shapeshifting abilities (hugely helpful in exactly this scenario), you'd likely need to get good at disguises.

Other things to consider, regardless: you are sending out communications to allies, how are they going to get back to you? How long do you estimate you will need to be in hiding? At a certain point, staying in one place for too long becomes a bigger risk than moving. If you're planning on a longer engagement, it might be smart to get out of town (if you can do it safely) and come back with your allies, good counsel, and a authenticated writ.

I hope this finds you whole, hearty, and ready to move. If myself or anyone else at the Holler can be helpful to you, please reach out. We love a cause for the people.

Best of luck!

-EzeC

[ugh154628]

Didn’t you choose to work to the same store as him? And you are absolutely valid they are fucking insane and you should get a op I’m js that moving in silence does more. You definitely have enough info to get a op get one boo-boo

Back story on that. It's long but I have been wanting to delve into the full details anyways.

My ex and I both worked at the same place in 2021-2022. He had been complaining about not making enough money and left for a job with a higher pay opportunity (my dad helped him get a factory job), I stuck around for a few months after he left, but then I left to pursue a woodworking opportunity. I didn't want to leave, I really loved my job there, but the other opportunity was in a career field that aligned so uniquely to something I was passionate about it was almost surreal. It was manufacturing musical instruments, and I knew I would regret not giving it a shot. I loved woodworking and made a guitar in advanced shop in HS, which I wanted to keep doing anyways, so I couldn't pass up a one off chance to get paid to essentially heighten my skills in musical instrument manufacturing and for something that uniquely specific to my hobbies.

Either way, it actually really sucked when I left my other job (the one I went back to and have now) to do that. I ended up getting the job, and my manager told me I could come back if things didn't work out, too, which made it easier on me leaving.

When "Ricky" and I broke up, it was about a month into me having the woodworking job, which ultimately wasn't cutting it for my expenses since I was going to be living in the rental we had by myself, a rental that was only approved assuming combined income with another person, too. So, we were originally going to keep his name on the lease for few reasons. For one, because breaking the lease could impact both of our renters history, like if were to apply for another rental later with that being the only place we had ever rented, it could have us rejected from future apartments so that was a concern. Secondly, it would have resulted in financial penalties to leave the lease early, which neither of us wanted to deal with and absolutely couldnt afford at the time.

And then as said before, him leaving the lease without someone to replace him would have defaulted the whole lease anyways, because I didn't make enough to be approved to live there alone. Which would mean poor renter's history, getting landed with the penalty fees, and for me in particular, not being able to get approved for a new apartment let alone afford a down-payment on one after penalty fees would have made me homeless because I didn't have anywhere else to go on demand like he did.

So, he didn't have to but he offered to keep the lease in tact for a bit due to that, offered to pay half of one more month of the rent to give me time to find a roomate or second job, it was a win win to keep it in tact anyways (no poor renters history, no penalties), and we ultimately aimed to ammend it with a new second leasee (new roomate) one I found one instead of breaking it entirely. Both our renter's history would have remained positive that way, no penalty fees, etc.

I didn't want it to be his financial responsibility anymore eithe, even with his name on it. That led me to hunting for second jobs in the event I couldn't find a roomate fast enough. But regardless, I rushed to get him off the lease given the obviously scary circumtances weeks after we broke up: him getting back with "Cece" and still being able to legally enter my home with her if he wanted to since his name was still on it. My boyfriend now ended up putting his name on it just to get me approved for the ammendment, but it was still my full responsibility to pay the rent and bills.

I never found a roomate and ended up getting a second job to maintain the bills like planned, was working one full time job (woodworking) and one part time job (axe throwing training) at the time to pay for the $800 a month rental by myself after "Ricky" moved out. I was working 50 or more hours a week while in school, and it was actually awful. And before I had a second job, I was starving to death, meanwhile an anxious mess too because I was living alone in a place where "Cece" knew I lived again. I stopped staying there alone, and I ended up moving out the last 2 or so months of my lease because I was scared to be there all together, definitely scared to sleep there, etc. But I absolutely could not afford the financial penalties, let alone afford the cost of poor renter's history either. It was less costly to just finish out the lease, so I just kept paying for it even though I had moved out.

So come early February 2023, about two months into me having the job, there was some red flags that had me text my old manager warning them that I might want to come back to my old job but I was feeling out the situation still. And then come april 2023, shit was absolutely not working out at my woodworking job and I wanted out. I didn't get fired but in short, I wanted out of the place and was looking for a second job to replace that one. I contact my manager again to go back to my old job (I still have all these texts btw), but they are unable to hire me due to being fully staffed. I end up quitting my woodworking job shortly after anyways, before my lease ended. Because it was too much for my mental, especially while already dealing with the stalking/harassment on top of a poor work environment, but I don't want to talk down on the company explaining why so I will leave it at that.

My career life was all over the place after that and I was not having a good time for a lot of reasons, some obvious reasons, some I havent talked about and dont want to cause its personal. Lets just say there was too much hitting me at once and it felt like my world was ending. Finding a good job was one of the biggest struggles though because the job market was ass. So I had 3 different jobs between that time and 2023. The last job was the worst and I have never put a two week notice in so quick in my life, but at weirdly the right time and right after I put my two week notice in (this was June 2024), I get a text from my manager asking me to come back to my old job but to a different location (new store) and lead a merchandising project for a remodel.

With that said, my manager was well aware that my ex and I didn't get along too, and they would not have asked me to come elsewhere if my ex and I had to interact / work together. Like, imagine a Walmart for example. Just because someone works at a Walmart absolutely doesn't mean they know the employees at stores towns over or have to interact with them. That's almost never the case in widespread multi-location retail companies. And yes, I knew he worked at an alternate location because Cece had posted statues MOCKING me for trying to go back there the year prior and before my ex actually went back himself (an old coworker told him about me trying to go back) but here's my thought process on that:

I had been intending to and trying to go back for more than a year before he actually did, I wasn't actively trying to go back at that time I was contacted by my manager to do so (although, I wished I could for that whole year after I tried to originally), I was SOUGHT out by my manager to come back because of being valued for a particular skillset (merchandising), they said they would help me with my internship for my degree without me even asking on top of that, WHICH was a big deal because I was struggling to find a good one and it's the last class I needed to finish to get my degree, and it was actually the only job I've ever fully loved and had no issues with too - the only job I have ever missed and tried to go back to before. Therefore, would have been an IDIOT to pass of that particular opportunity.

So no, I didn't reject it just because my ex was at another store. I'm not going to reject the place I genuinely missed working for, the place that was always at the top of the list for my internship, the place that actually values me for skills that I also thoroughly enjoy using, the place that has the best manager I've ever worked under, the place that ASKED me to come back, values me as an employee, and actually wants me to grow with their company. I wasn't going to throw away a significant career opportunity like that for some ungrateful little shit that probably isn't going to stick around there anyway, only thinks of jobs for money, originally threw it away for a factory job he didnt even truly want or like, doesn't amd never did appreciate the job on the level that that I do, and ultimately, let's his girlfriend talk down on the company, as well as the actually great workers AND people who work there, in regard to me now.

And with all of that said, me working at a different store location for a company I love to death, where I don't have to see nor interact with him is A LOT different than them going out of their way to show up on my family's private property feet away from me, intentionally start going to places I hang out at, and overall, following me around in close proximity on purpose and with nothing but ill intent. My intentions going back to this job have positive personal meaning and have nothing to do with them. And their intentions doing what they did / do are in spite of me; to follow me around JUST to make me uncomfortable. That's the difference.

Thank you for bringing up that though. I've been meaning to talk about it and explain all that.

[cat-loves-music]

"Where is she?" I asked.

My mother looked at me, a sorrowful look in her eye. She looked as if she were about to cry. I could feel my heart beat in my ears as I waited for a response, after all I can't wait to see my pride and joy.

"She's in the backyard," she replied, her voice maintaining an almost steady pace.

My heart leaps in my chest with excitement as I head towards the backyard. Stepping out the door and onto the patio, my daughter is nowhere to be found. Nothing is, except for a lone grave near the fence. An assortment of flowers decorate the small patch and as I get closer, I notice that the letters I've written my daughter from years of war are piled near the headstone.

"Mother!" I called and I turned around to see her, my heart once filled with excitement and joy is now replaced with dread.

"Where is she?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady and strong.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," my mother replies.

My heart drops and my balance fails me as gravity pulls me down to the grass. I could feel my heart shatter in my chest as grief takes over me and wrecks my body with sobs.

"There were so many times I should have died in the war. I've suffered through so much and all that was keeping me going was seeing her again. Now I get to come back to my daughter six feet under?" I sob. "How is that fair?"

Through blurry, tear ridden vision I read the headstone, it says, "Here lies Dawn Lovett. Beloved daughter, friend, and granddaughter. 2013–2024"

The war lasted for five years, started in 2023 and ended in 2028.

"She died four years ago?" I whisper, a mix of emotions bubbling inside my chest, "and you never told me?"

My mother's gaze falls to the lone grave before looking back at me to speak, "You were at war, the last thing you needed was to know that she was gone."

"I still had a right to know, mom!" I cry. "She's my daughter! My own flesh and blood!"

"Then what am I?" She yells back, tears in her eyes. "All I wanted was for my child to come home and if you knew she was gone you would be too. I couldn't lose you, not when you're all I have left."

I sigh, my gaze now on the pile of letters as I pick one up. The aged paper felt nice in my hands. It was familiar and grounding, which is what I needed.

"Can I have a minute alone with her?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

"I'll be inside if you need me," she responds.

I could hear the door open and close as my mother went inside. Hugging the letter close to my chest, I start speaking to the sky.

"Dawn, baby, I'm so sorry. I wish I never left. I missed one precious year with you that I'll never get back. I'll never celebrate another birthday with you, I'll never see you go to highschool or graduate, I'll never see you go to college or get your first job, I'll never see you walk down the aisle or have kids. I'll die knowing that I will meet you wherever you are, but not without the regret of leaving when you needed me most. There are no words to describe the overwhelming pain and grief and regret I feel but one day I'll get to see you again, and hold you and finally say to you that I'm sorry. I want you to know that. I need you to know that. I love you, honey. I'll see you soon."

And with that, I put the letter back on top of the others and walked inside.

You’ve just got back from the war after several years. Each day you wrote to your daughter. You came back to find your letters piled on her grave.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

6.18.24 Tuesday

2:34 am

Still,have windblow...

Strange but happy...19th Century posted a message that he thinks I'm sexy coz of my mind....I said I know but as a woman I still need to prettify myself... I have this windblow since 2007 and some group took away everything from me... I figured out that their plan was to take away my Romeo and let Romeo dies without telling to me that he loves me,in-front of my face...

Another plan was to wait for me to fade and take my mind with them and abandon me for so long... Worst! Somebody wanted me to be fat,ugly and old so when the time comes that my Romeo will be here, they can replace me by other woman coming from their group... So, where is my love story then or though???

She or He can't say that he or she hates me but check their ways... They don't like me here... But I still wanna see my Romeo,reaching 40's, my repeat is so fucking ugly they made me 17 again but they introduced me super,super poorish... Is that fair???

3:06 am

Phyllis is my name... It's Phyllis...

3:33 am

It is supposed to be this way...

7:38 am

Still,have windblow...

My sweat or heat rash is returning at my nape and some parts at my back....This is weird, once you have it, it will be long-lasting....In-short my skin is sensitive, it needs a cooler place. I need lotions that can moisturize my skin and creams to treat heat rash that will become eczema....It is itchy again....Whew! I need maintenance angels...

I need to maintain "oatmeal soap and anti-fungal soap" the best oatmeal soap for now is Dr.Alvin's though others can be but the ingredients of oatmeal soap of Dr. Alvin is really calming and soothing on the skin.

Plus,the vinegar washing diluted on water...

7:55 am

Still,have windblow....

Next is Dr Alvin's Hydroquinone Tretinoin is as well effective but there are different percentage of it like I'm using the 20/50,the blue bottle...

2% Hydroquinone 5% Tretinoin.

But if I'm on thrift I'm using the Brilliant which is 20/ 250 to easily dry the existing acne.

Ehem...Ehem... Biology here...

But I still need more progress...

8:31 am

Still,have windblow...

Thanks Marah & Kuya Erning for this 9th water container...

Uncle DD and Aunt Karen are here again coz their car is already in the garage...

9:18 am

Still,have windblow...

I love the "Story Teller's Handbook" where you can only see pictures and create your dialouges based on the picture. You can flow your own stories and on making stories there are no limits nor boundaries.... Interesting books...

Back to reality waiting for an another loan on MrCash... Hoping I can get an approval coz I don't have money...

Still,thinking of money and job and I don't know how to pay my creditz... Again my singing is 10k pesoses hoping angels can explain this matter... Thanks,though...

9:56 am

Crysette Sotto gave us a sabang banana with bagoong...

10:35 am

Thanks Lazadah.... I badly need the massage...

Nourishing her mind,my nana...

11:06 am

I feel so happy having this massage, I truly badly need it coz I have stress body pain...

11:24 am

Huh? The moca2x is already asking for a payment I just got the money yesterday... Huh???

MrCash didn't approve my loan...

3:33 pm

A relief...Whew!

7:12 pm

I got the story hahah... Wait angels...

7:48 pm

The parent's of Bonjing will go home hoping for a "crash,plane"... I will not cry...

Uncle DD is telling me they don't have money.I need money supposed to be I will get my cousin white!

I need money for my wedding, I want my cousin white back!

Or if not my cousin white, can I marry Garret???

Fakers Aunt Teresa is only communicating with Uncle DD... They don't have money even for milk soap, they can't bring it here...Even a milk soap they can't buy... I wanted a car!

8:25 pm

I still need money and job... I don't know how to pay my creditz...

Uncle DD is the unico hijo... hmmm... If I know he will ask money from Aunt Teresa...

8:28 pm

Still,have windblow...

I really hate my cousin white for being married, can I take him back???

I feel bitterish... I lost my future... I wasn't able to perfect my nose now that I'm aging...

I feel shy on Garret if I can't take back my cousin white,can I get Garret??? I need to start a life on my own with someone if only cheapness here... I'm wasting my time here just for nothing, losing my college diploma... I lost vanity as well and my travel...17 years they just flatten me without a fair fight here in the Philippines...

They will see my baby here, my baby-John but it seems nothing for them the grannies...

8:41 pm

A lot are envious of me here in the Philippines or Cavite even my own cousins on Treyes, for sure...I feel jealous on them!

For my cousins white... Why you are married? It is plan of a particular group to break my relationship with my cousins most specially that cousin white!

Did he play dead or killed by that woman! I feel jealous.... He never bleed on me... I feel jealous!

10:12 pm

Wifi is cut again weird... This afternoon they returned it, Uncle DD fixed the wifi... Hmmm....I have angels who are intimidated on me?

I really wanna analyze this wifi....I wanna leave Cavite...

10:19 pm

I feel jealous on everyone and on my cousins on Treyes that they are upper than me and I can't go back even a lil...

I really wanna get back my cousin white....I feel bitterish here... I wanna leave Cavite and gain new friends... So ,sad my cousin white is married and how can I see Garret to help me or lift me...

But I wanna let Garret know that I'm jealous kind that I don't want any women here in Cavite that will join us...

Supposed to be I will go live to take chances on Garret... Wifi is cut again...

I feel embarass and the killing spirit is here angels...

I will go live on Ely's house angels tomorrow if there are no relatives in their house.

Uncle DD and Aunt Karen went out again... They have portable wifi...

[whumperfultime]

Whumpril 2024 Day 11: Can't Sleep

@whumpril

My last scene for the event! Thank you all for being sweet and supportive for my first time participating <3 I was so nervous going into this since I'm not used to sharing my writing but I think I might participate in other events in the future!

Contains: Insomnia/sleep deprivation and platonic comfort. Honestly this piece is more fluff than whump whoops.

~

The steady hum of the Azaphia’s air circulation system was the only sound in the darkened cabin. It was well into the night – or at least, night according to the clocks, as there was no day/night cycle out in the void of space. There were no screens lit up or playing sound. No alarms going off to signal issues with the engine room.

And Dace still couldn’t get to sleep.

Every time he drifted off, reaching the brink of unconsciousness, he jolted awake again. Dragged back to life by his own frustration in a seemingly neverending cycle. It was getting worse with each passing night.

He was just beginning to doze when the jolt came again, though this time it came in response to a high-pitched noise. His hand immediately went to the tablet on his bedside table, instinct expecting an alert from part of the ship, but no more noises followed. In this silence, his exhausted brain finally caught up. It must have been the door to Matago’s cabin opening – he kept meaning to oil the damn thing, but with everything else going on, it kept slipping his mind.

The frustration set in again and he flicked on the bedside light with a sharp sigh. It was clear he wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon. What was the point of lying awake in the dark for another hour or two?

He was using his tablet to check up on the ship’s computer system when a soft knock sounded at his cabin door. “Come in.”

As Dace expected, it was Matago. Judging from the water bottles and boxes of nuts he carried, he’d gone to the kitchen for a snack. “You’re up late again,” he remarked, closing the door behind him.

“Can’t sleep,” Dace grumbled in reply.

Matago set one of the bottles and one of the boxes on his nightstand. A wordless offering. “Anything in particular?”

Dace sighed. “A little of everything.”

He was pretty sure he knew where the insomnia was coming from. Their last job had taken them a little further away from Garal than they were typically comfortable with. The flight out was smooth, but things started going to shit once they landed. First was the cheap fuel that Dace bought, with chemical fumes so strong he wound up too dizzy to stand for a few minutes when he went to refuel. Then the job itself had its problems, with Kalei unexpectedly having to bribe a couple of police officers and the client trying to renegotiate their fee at the last minute. The latter kept them grounded for longer than planned, so they were unable to avoid the hailstorm that damaged the cockpit’s windshield.

Ever since that storm, it seemed like the Azaphia was on the verge of falling apart at every moment. Dace spent the vast majority of their flight time replacing small parts and doing whatever he could to maintain what he couldn’t fully fix. It wouldn’t be such a problem if they weren’t still a day and a half’s flight from home. Even as a natural optimist, he couldn’t help but wonder if they would make it that far.

All of the stress kept piling up with nowhere to go, so it settled in his mind and body, keeping him awake every night no matter how exhausted he felt.

Matago sat on the edge of the mattress and Dace reflexively scooted over to give the other man room to get comfortable. It wasn’t the biggest bed, making it a snug fit for both of them, but Dace didn’t mind. When you spent half your time on a three-person spacecraft, you learned to adjust to sharing limited space with other people.

“Kinda hard to fall asleep when I’m worried the ship is gonna fall apart the moment I pass out,” Dace explained.

“We’ve survived worse than this, y’know,” Matago replied, pausing to pop a handful of food into his mouth. “You practically had to rebuild half the engine room when we crashed on Uros and we survived the flight home just fine.”

“Uros had land, gravity, and breathable air. Space has none of that. If something breaks down, we’ll just drift off course, or suffocate, or-”

“Or call one of the several service stations in the system for help,” Matago interrupted.

Dace couldn’t really argue with that. There were multiple service stations within range no matter where you were in the solar system. He’d considered if it would be better to just stop there and let them do a maintenance check-up for him. But the Azaphia was his ship. It always felt somehow wrong to let other people take care of her, unless it was someone he already trusted.

Of course, the more pressing issue was simply the risk a stop like that would involve. Service stations got federal funding, which meant tighter security and an obligation for the staff to report anything suspicious. The police had probably asked them to keep an eye out for the Azaphia and its passengers at some point. Even getting close to one of those stations brought the threat of being arrested by the Ontian government.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that point,” Dace mumbled.

“Would it help if I hung out in here? If any alerts come through, I’ll at least be able to tell if they’re urgent or not. I can wake you if that happens.”

“Sure, I guess. It’s not like I’m gonna fall asleep anytime soon, so the company is nice.”

Dace spent the next several minutes venting about the specifics of the mechanical issues he’d been dealing with. Matago didn’t say much, but he knew enough about the basics of the ship’s inner workings to follow along. Obviously ranting about it didn’t make the stress go away, but it felt good to let some of it out. (It helped that Matago made a few dumb jokes to keep the mood lighter.)

At some point the conversation began to shift to whatever came to mind. Matago launched into a series of stories about a mechanic he knew in flight school and Dace was content to simply listen. He sank deeper beneath his blanket, resting his eyes and occasionally chuckling at the other man’s rambling. A calming haze washed over him and this time nothing yanked him out of it.

Matago smiled as he watched him drift into a peaceful sleep.