#they are stuck in an endless loop where all that they accomplish is losing each other

[rosaacicularis]

i jsut think. .. that grian and scar deserve to be happy </3

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[possiblyelvenart]

As You Sow, So Shall You Reap

[link to Ao3 | part 4 in a series]

(Possible tw: Near death experience)

Sidon clung to the mast as the wind whipped water into his face, wondering if it would be ironic if he died in the same way as his sister or merely coincidental. He’d never been good with literature lessons, and to be fair, his mind was mostly consumed with other things at the moment. He could already feel his father’s rage, spurred by grief. After all, he had expressly told Sidon not to do as he was currently doing.

Before he left on his journey, a diplomatic mission to the Rito, Dorephan had held his son by the shoulders, grip firm despite his increasing age. Sidon was no small man, but Dorephan still towered over him, though the years had rounded his physique. “You will promise me that you will be careful, my son.”

“I will, Father.”

“If a storm comes upon you, you must get inside. Do not risk yourself - the sailors are more experienced than you, and can handle the ship. We cannot lose you.” Mipha’s missing presence loomed over them both, and Sidon had swallowed, nodding once.

“Yes, Father.”

But how could he abandon his crew? It wasn’t as if he was a novice to the ship’s rigging; all of his free time, prior to meeting his lovely merman, had been spent down at the docks, asking question after question while the sailors taught him how they ran a ship. He had gone out sailing, both in small dories that barely held him and a pair of sailors and on large caravels, allowed to steer them around the harbor. After all, a prince could pay handsomely for such jaunts, reimbursing the lost time for packing boxes aboard and then some. It was only right that now, when his crew needed him most, he should be above deck and doing his best to help keep the ship steady.

None of that seemed to matter as he felt his grip slackening, gritting his teeth against the cold and the rain. The squalls had been getting worse recently, and for a moment he regretted not taking the land route, though it would have taken almost three times as long to arrive. A large wave slammed into the ship, breaking the last of his strength. Unable to fight the raging waves and wind, he was swept overboard, plunging deep into the waters below.

Like his sister before him, Sidon had spent enough time in the water to be an accomplished swimmer. They’d spent many afternoons playing by the sea when he was young, and as he grew he pushed himself harder, swimming up and down the strand in deeper and deeper water, going longer distances, swimming rougher seas. But nothing compared to the fury of a maelstrom, and every time he tried to get to the surface, the waves pulled him under again.

Darkness started to surge at the edges of his vision, and he felt his arm strength going weak. Just as he let his eyes drift closed, just as he stopped fighting the current, he heard a loud, high pitched noise, seemingly echoing from all around him. Brilliant blue eyes appeared in front of him, and the world went dark.

-

So this is the Zora prince I’ve heard so much talk about.

“Mipha?” It felt like Sidon was still underwater. His arms and legs moved sluggishly, as though swimming, despite being in plain air as far as he could tell. There was red hair, just out of reach, with golden eyes like a mirror. His sister’s mouth moved slowly, the movements not quite matching her words.

He’s speaking to me. He wants Mipha.

“Yes, yes!” Sidon’s voice was ragged, a thousand shards of glass tearing at his throat. He tried to nod, but couldn’t move enough. “Mipha, I’ve missed you, you aren’t supposed to be here - ”

The image distorted. His golden eyes were now met with bright blue, the girl’s bow of a mouth turned down at the corners. I am not Mipha. I’m sorry. Her hair faded to gold, slowly washing out shade by shade as Sidon cried out in dismay. The image distorted again, overexposed, and a second figure layered over the first. I’m sorry. The words came from the girl, but the second figure made the sign for sorry, over and over in an endless loop.

Rest now, Zora prince. You’re scaring him.

Before Sidon could protest, ask for any sort of explanation, the world went completely black again.

-

Sidon coughed himself awake. Rolling onto his side, he retched, the taste of seawater heavy in his mouth. The movement dislodged a layer of palm leaves that had been placed on top of him, though by what, he couldn’t imagine. It took him a moment to take in his surroundings - a secluded beach he had never seen before, the sun shining and birds calling in the distance. He was barely out of the water, but it was clear that someone had placed him there, carefully moving him far enough that he wouldn’t be taken by the high tide.

“He’s awake!”

Sidon startled at the sudden voice, scrambling up and pushing himself backwards, as if that would do anything to protect himself. The stranger giggled, and he looked around, spotting a young child out in the surf. Before he could do more than open his mouth, the little girl was turning around and yelling out to the waves. “Link! Li-ink, he’s awake!” Dumbfounded, Sidon watched as the young merchild did a little half leap out of the water and dived beneath the waves, red tail slapping the water as she went.

Less than a minute later, Link was breaching the surface instead, eyes wild until he spotted Sidon in his new position. Link raced to the shore, throwing himself on the sand and using his arms to drag himself the rest of the way next to Sidon.

“Stop, Link, I beg you - I’m alright, don’t hurt yourself on my account!”

Three days, Link informed him, then reached up to take Sidon’s face in his hands. He’d never really noticed before, but Link’s fingers were slightly webbed and covered with light, translucent scales that he had never been able to see in the dark of the cove. Link carefully turned Sidon’s head from side to side, fingers feather light against his cheeks. Sidon was so entranced by the feeling that it took him a moment to register what Link was telling him.

“Three - Three days? I’ve been lying there for three days?”

Link frowned, biting the corner of his lip as he tried to explain. Sidon briefly mourned the loss of his touch when the merman pulled back to sign. Out three days. On the beach for two. One day of travel. You were very far out in the ocean, even for here.

Sidon had so many questions, it was hard to pick one. “Here. Where is here, Link?”

K-O-R-O-K Korok forest. Link looked at him expectantly, puffing his cheeks out when Sidon simply gave him a blank look. Forest spirits? Friends. He gestured behind Sidon, who looked to where he was pointing. There were several sets of eyes on him from beyond the tree line, all of which vanished with startled squeaks the moment he looked at them. He turned back to Link just in time to catch the merman’s eye roll. Shy friends.

“Right, okay. That’s… that’s the least of my worries right now.” Sidon nodded, crossing his legs. “What of my crew? Are they here as well?”

Link shifted back and forth, and Sidon wasn’t sure if he was squirming at the question or merely the hot sand. No. Zelda wouldn’t allow it. But they were safe, as many as I could find. Link refused to meet his eyes, instead looking back out towards the sea. Big pieces of wood. Lifeboats. Lost some. I’m sorry.

Sidon could feel his stomach drop, but forced himself to nod. “You did what you could, Link. For that, I am grateful.”

Could not let you drown. Could not let you be Mipha. Link flicked his tail, and suddenly began scooting back towards the water.

“Link - ”

Food, Link signed over his shoulder, before diving into the water.

“Link!” Sidon scrambled for the shore, only stopping as a wave of nausea overtook him. It was no use, anyway. Link was once again gone.

-

Sidon had tried to stay awake, he really had, but the exhaustion and warm sand beneath him dragged him back under. The next time he woke, Link was back, though he stayed in the water this time. He gestured to a pile of supplies near Sidon’s feet. There was a large, flat leaf, upon which rested two large fish. Next to that was a pile of sticks and dry grass, and in a pile, what appeared to be about fifty small rocks, each no larger than half his palm.

Koroks don’t know what flint is. All I could remember was black rock. I hope those are right. You don’t eat uncooked fish, and fire will keep you warm at night, right? Link fidgeted with his hands, and everything became clear to Sidon. The palm leaves he had woken up under were a clumsy attempt at a blanket, probably placed on him by the Korok as directed by Link. Even as he slept, Link had clearly been keeping watch over him, desperate to keep him alive. Sidon’s breath caught in his throat, and he nodded.

“Yes, and even if there’s no flint, there are other ways to start fire. Thank you, Link. And thank you to your friends, as well.”

Link smiled, relieved, and moved closer to where sand met waves. He watched in fascination as Sidon set up the campfire, nimble hands picking through the rocks and striking the flint with ease. As Sidon stuck the fish on sticks and placed them near the fire, Link gave him a smile back, seeming to finally be over his worry. Sorry, no spices.

Sidon had to laugh at that. “I believe I can survive a night without it, dearest Link.” Link laughed as well, the bright chime that would have brought Sidon to his knees, were he standing. Sidon’s smile quickly faded, however, as he became lost in thought.

“Link, I appreciate all that you have done for me. But please, is there any way that you can help me back to my home? My father will be worried for me, and I must get back as soon as possible.”

Link lowered his eyes for a moment, but nodded, well aware that he couldn’t keep Sidon secreted away here forever. After all, it wasn’t as if he would stop showing up in the cove. Wanted to make sure you were okay first. That you were strong enough to travel.

“Ah, I suppose it depends on the travel. As a passenger, I could leave today, but as a sailor…”

Link waved both hands to interrupt him. Passenger. Zelda insists.

“Zelda. That’s the princess you mentioned, is she not?” Link had been cagey about his family, about the life he led when not with Sidon, but he had talked about her a few times. The sole heir to the kingdom of the merfolk, she was like a sister to Link, and the merman was very fond of her. Sidon had the suspicion that if Link were not so close to her, Sidon wouldn’t be alive now. “May I thank her, as well?”

“You may.” A new voice came from further out from the shore. It commanded respect, the tone regal and soft. Sidon squinted to try to see better as the young merwoman swam closer. She truly looked like she could be Link’s sister, though her decorations were far more elaborate, and he caught a glimpse of pure white scales accented with blue when her tail flicked above the water.

“Your highness,” Sidon replied, bowing as best he could from his seat on the sand. The world may have gone mad around him, but never let it be said that Prince Sidon of the Zora lost his manners.

“Your highness,” Zelda echoed back, dipping her head briefly. “It’s good to finally meet you. So you’re the human that Link has been spending so much time with.” She seemed to be sizing him up, while Link sputtered beside her, waving his hands to try to stop her. She ignored him and his signing, which Sidon desperately wished he could turn to see what he was saying without looking rude. Sidon stayed quiet as she swam from one side of him to the other, thoroughly inspecting him. After what felt like an eternity of silent scrutiny, she moved away again, sighing. “Well, Link always did have odd tastes.” Link let out a sound like a strangled cat, and even from his angle, Sidon could tell he was turning bright red. He couldn’t help but laugh, even if it made something in his chest hurt.

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea, your highness. Link is my dearest friend, but he’s never indicated anything more than that.”

“Is that so?” Zelda looked unconvinced, looking between Link and Sidon. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Here.” She reached into a pouch tied around her waist, withdrawing a handful of seeds. “Eat these before you sleep. It will ensure you sleep through our travels, and when you wake, it will be in your homeland. I’m not having you remember the way here so you can bring your people to take our island.” Link moved forward, indignant, but Sidon stopped him with a hand.

“I understand your concern, your highness. I’ll do as you ask. Thank you once again for all your help.” He accepted the seeds, rolling them around in his palm. “May I ask something, though?” Zelda tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. “Why me? Is it simply because Link asked?”

Zelda considered his question for a long moment. “Your sister was a friend to us. She helped Link when he was injured, despite the fact that our people do not like each other. And besides that, you are a friend of the sea.”

“I’m - I’m sorry, I beg your pardon?”

“The fish, Prince Sidon. The ones you move every morning. Link isn’t the only one who noticed your kindness to them. There was nothing for you to gain, no honor, certainly no glory. You did it for them and for your sister. It seems a fair exchange, helping you after you helped so many of them.”

“Oh.” Sidon blinked. He hadn’t even thought about it, beyond it being a tradition and reminder of Mipha. Her voice echoed softly in his head. The sea takes care of us, Sidon. We must be sure to take care of it the same way. “Thank you, then. I assure you that I will continue to do so when I return.”

“See that you do.” Zelda began floating backward, a devilish grin suddenly appearing on her face. “And maybe think about what I said? Link’s always been, well. Bad with words, even when signed.” She laughed, heading back out into the open water. Link sped after her, expression somewhere between mortified and livid. Sidon, for his own part, felt very confused, but somehow… warm, as well.

-

True to her word, when Sidon awoke next, it was to the clamor of voices.

“The prince!” - “He’s returned!” - “Is he alive?” - “Look at him, not a scratch!” - “Even though the ship went to bits, did you hear?” - “Sh, lad, he’s waking up!”

Sidon slowly opened his eyes, blinking up at the crowd of villagers gathered around him. A gap appeared, and Muzu shoved his way forward. “Up, up, your highness! Your father wishes to see you immediately. Come, make haste.”

Sidon allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, waving dazedly to the villagers as he was led away. Well wishes were called after him, along with promises of gifts, and he was too discombobulated to argue at the moment. Muzu led him through the palace gates and into the throne room, one hand on Sidon’s back to keep him steady. Despite his crabby demeanor, Sidon smiled, knowing it was how Muzu showed he cared.

His father, on the other hand, was more traditional. He was already halfway across the throne room when they entered, and he grabbed Sidon in a strong hug, uncaring of the sea water and sand he was surely getting on his clothes.

“Sidon, my son, my precious son.” Dorephan rested his cheek atop Sidon’s head, and Sidon could feel himself tearing up at the emotion in his voice. He held onto his father tightly, burying his face against the older man’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t listen to you, and now I’ve made you worry.”

“Nonsense, my boy. The ship went down - nothing you could have done about that. I must thank the goddess that she returned you to me safe and sound.”

Sidon took a deep breath, working up his courage. “The goddess and the merfolk, Father.”

Dorephan pulled back, brow furrowing in his confusion. “The merfolk? What do they have to do with this miracle?”

“Everything!” Sidon coughed, calming himself. “I mean - they saved me, Father. I was losing to the waves, but one of their kind found me and carried me to safety, and then brought me home again. If it weren’t for the merfolk, I would be dead now, I’m certain.”

“Preposterous!” Muzu shook his head, scowling. “The sea water has given you delirium, your highness. No merfolk would aid a human like that.”

“Now, Muzu,” Dorephan warned him, keeping one arm around his son’s shoulders as he turned to look at his advisor. “Sidon has a good head on his shoulders. If he claims the merfolk helped him, then I believe the merfolk helped him.” Sidon felt relief flood his veins. “Perhaps we should rethink how we view the merfolk. But for now, you need rest, my boy.”

Sidon nodded, reluctantly pulling away from his father. “Thank you, Father.”

“No need to thank me, Sidon. I would give up my entire kingdom to see you home safe and sound.” Dorephan smiled at him, and Sidon could feel his throat getting choked up again. “Go now, rest. The healers will be at your rooms soon.”

Sidon nodded, turning to leave with a light heart. Before he knew it, the healers had come and gone, leaving behind tinctures to ease his throat and help him rest. As he drifted off to sleep, he remembered the merwoman’s teasing implications. Surely it was all a jest, wasn’t it? And yet… what if it wasn’t?

[nashvilletonihon]

To Stay Or Not To Stay...That Is The Million Dollar Question.

I’m currently sitting at my desk in the Kumihama teacher’s room. It’s Finals Week here so everyone is buzzing around and it sounds like a busy hive of bees. The students already look broken, defeated, tired. It’s been a long couple of weeks for me so I can only imagine what it’s been like for them.

I’m honestly not sure where October and November went. I remember being glad that September was over the minute it became October 1st and then suddenly I was celebrating Halloween with my ESS Club students and then it was November 1st. Now it’s 1 day away from my birthday (which I haven’t even thought about) and then it will be December 1st. 

What. Is. Happening??? 

When I first arrived here I thought time had literally stopped. I was stuck in an endless loop of being unhappy, lonely and sad I was drowning in my own misery. Fast forward to now. November 29th. In two short months I will have to give the JET Program and my contracting schools an answer to the question of whether or not I would like to re-contract. If I say yes, my schools will then have to decide whether or not they want to extend my contract for another year. If they do, I’d be working for them again during another trip around the sun. If they don’t...well, the decision to stay or go will have been made for me.

I’ve talked to my mom and a few close friends about my decision to potentially live in Japan for another year or to move back to the States. My mother encouraged me to make a Pros and Cons list. (Something I’ve always done when faced with major, life-changing decisions.) It’s currently taped to the back of my bedroom door and at the moment, both sides are neck and neck. Neither the Pros nor the Cons have advanced past the other. Hurray for me right? How does a list like that help when they’re dead even?! 

I think about what my life would be like in both scenarios. If I stay for another year I can continue to work toward my (absolutely insane) goal of eventually taking the JLPT N2. It’s an incredibly difficult test for non-native speakers that requires A LOT of work to pass. One of my friends and fellow JET’s is getting ready to take it this Sunday. She studied Japanese for four years in college AND studied abroad here and even she’s worried passing it. I wonder if I could accomplish my goal in another year and a half. If I worked my a** off, I bet I could. I at least want to take and pass the N3. (Which I’m pretty sure I can do.) That being said, if I pass the N2 I could get a job as a translator or interpreter which is something I would really enjoy doing. I could translate anime or manga or work for the government or tourism board in cities like Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Seattle, etc... Living in Japan for another year would allow me to continue to be exposed to native speakers and Japanese every single day. The minute I move back to America I no longer have that luxury. Even though I’ve only been here for 4 months my comprehension and understanding has grown exponentially. I would be jeopardizing all of the hard work I’ve put in up ‘til now. 

A major Con of continuing to live in Japan is being away from my family and friends for another year. I video chat with my momma every single day and it always pains me to have to talk to her through a phone screen. I miss being able to hop in my car and drive the 2 1/2 hours to Indiana to see her whenever I wanted. Now we constantly have to coordinate when we both have free time to talk. Being 15 hours ahead of her in the States (thaaaaanks Daylight Savings) makes things difficult, but we manage. I miss her hugs. I also struggle a lot with the fact that I am losing out on valuable time with my grandparents. I know they won’t be around forever and the guilt associated with being over here while they continue grow older is more than I can put into words. I know my family is proud of me for following my dreams but that doesn’t make being over here any easier.

Another Con (or Pro depending on how you look at it) is that I have ZERO job prospects moving back to America. Absolutely nothing. In theory I could pick up over hire work in theatre at TPAC, Nash Rep, Studio Tenn or advertise myself as a costume designer (a position I have long had a love/hate relationship with) but to be completely honest, none of that sounds very appealing right now. I’m tired of living paycheck to paycheck and constantly being worried about if I’ll be able to afford rent (we all know how ridiculous it is to live in Nashville now) or make my car payment. Yeah, yeah I know. ‘’That’s what being involved in the arts is all about! You have to suffer for it!’’ Whoever thought that was a good excuse for people to live a stressful, poor lifestyle just so they can follow their passion can shove it. It’s ridiculous we even have to do that in the first place. Yes, I want to act. Yes, it’s my everything. Yes, it’s what I am good at. But I don’t want to constantly have to struggle when I could work toward a job that I can make good money doing while ALSO acting. Is that me selling out to have a secure day job and moonlight as an actor? Maybe. I’ll be 29 on Friday. If I stay another year in Japan I’ll turn 30 here. It’s hard to believe I’m so close to being out of my twenties already. While I feel the proverbial clock ticking when it comes to the stereotypical “old actress” trope, I have to remind myself that most well-known actors didn’t even get started until their mid-30′s. I’ve got time. And being bilingual will look really cool on my resumé.

So what’s another Pro about continuing to live in Japan? Saving more money, yo. Being here for another year means more savings in the bank. It’s a pretty simple concept that would allow me to not freak out about finances when I finally move back to the States. As someone who had an incredible amount of financial stability when I lived in Los Angeles to being left with nothing after I moved to Nashville, financial stability is now incredibly important to me. (I can hear my father slow clapping from 11,000 miles away.) I’m not one for caring about money (never have been) but if I could keep adding to the savings account while also working toward a career that would help me in the long run, I’ll take that option time and time again.

Another Pro I often think about is how many more people can come to visit Japan while I’m here. My Mom, sister (Elizabeth) and friends Taylor and Erica are all coming out to visit me in the months of February and March. If I’m here for another year, even MORE people can come on out to see what this crazy magical country is all about. I think that’s pretty dang cool and am 100% encouraging everyone I know to start looking at flights now. I mean, you’ve got a personal tour guide AND a place to stay!!! What more could you need/want?! 

All in all I have quite a few Pros and Cons on the list. Some of the Cons are dependent on whether or not I can somehow change them into Pros. One example would be the immense distaste I have for my base school. I am there every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Out of those three days I might be fortunate enough to attend (not teach, mind you) 2 classes, possibly 3. Classes are 50 minutes each if we don’t have a special shortened schedule. So out of 3, 8 hour work days, I am maybe seeing the inside of a classroom for less than 3 hours each week. Compare that to my visit school where I am there on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have 3 or 4 and sometimes 5 classes a day. I am waaaaay happier at my visit school. I found out that I can talk to my scheduling supervisors to potentially get my schedule switched so that my visit school becomes my base school and my base school becomes my visit school. This would drastically improve my outlook on the situation as a whole. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the other teachers at my base school (even though I don’t really talk to many of them and vice versa) and they’re all incredibly nice people. I just seem to click better with the teachers at my visit school.

Throughout all of the anxiety, worrying, stressing out and continual ‘’Should I or shouldn’t I’s’’, I have to keep telling myself that ultimately, it’s my decision and mine alone. Will it affect the people close to me? Oh, without a doubt. I know my family will hate to have me away for another year. I run the risk of being forgotten in the Nashville theatre and losing another year of shows. I already feel like my career was just beginning to take off and the desire to follow through with that is one of the strongest pulls back home yet. And then again...I have this intense desire to learn Japanese. REALLY learn it. I want to communicate with my friends, co-workers and the people who have helped to make the adjustment to life in Japan a little bit easier. I want to help Americans visit Japan and not be scared to do so because of the language barrier. Trust me when I say that the the people here are more scared to use English than you are to use Japanese.

I have a lot to think about over the next 2 months, but if I’m being completely honest (and I try to be on here), I am about 90% sure I will stay for another year. I don’t think my work in Japan is done yet. I think I can help more students, engage more cultural exchanges, help the current JTE’s teach their classes more efficiently and help infuse fun ways of learning into the mundane textbook lessons. I want to start a pen-pal exchange with the girls in my English Speaking Society Club with students from my aunt’s high school in Indiana. There is so much I want to do...and 8 more months just isn’t enough time to do it all.

Before I end this, it’s important to me that I thank the countless people, both family members and friends, who have listened to my doubts, fears, concerns and indecision about all of this over the past month. Your unwavering support and constant encouragement mean so much to me. I honestly wouldn’t still be here without your love and kindness. I am truly, truly grateful to have each and every one of you in my life, both here and abroad. Y’all the real MVP’s. 

I’m sorry there aren’t any photos in this post. I’m heading to Kyoto City tomorrow for a Skills Conference and will be there all weekend. I’m going sightseeing and Christmas shopping and will be taking lots of photos so I will have plenty to write about come next week. On that note I will wrap this up and say goodbye for now. I keep telling myself I’ll be better at updating and posting and I swear I will start now. Thanks for always being patient with me!!

じゃあまた (See you!)

- レイチェル (Rachel)

[sufi-nouman-riaz]

70 signs of Mental and Emotional Abuse || How to Handle!!!

You likely know a significant number of the more evident indications of mental and psychological mistreatment. The abuser could be your life partner or other sentimental accomplices. They could be your colleague, parent, or guardian. Here, we are going to tell you different signs of mental and emotional abuse to be cognizant about this. Hope this will help you in making your life good.

adopted from https://www.thrivetalk.com/gaslighting/ Name-calling: They'll out-rightly call you "moronic," "an idiot," or words too horrendous to even think about repeating here.Character assassination:  This generally includes "dependable." You're in every case late, wrong, messing up, unpalatable, etc. Fundamentally, they state you're not a decent individual. Yelling: Shouting, shouting, and swearing are intended to threaten and make you feel little and unimportant. Patronizing: "Aw, sweetie, I realize you attempt, yet this is simply outside your ability to comprehend." Public embarrassment: They start ruckuses, uncover your privileged insights, or ridicule your weaknesses in broad daylight.Dismissiveness: You inform them concerning something that is imperative to you and they state it's nothing. Joking: The jokes may have a trace of validity to them or be a fabrication completely. In any case, they make you look stupid.Sarcasm. Often just a dig in disguise. When you object, they guarantee to have been prodding and guide you to quit paying attention to everything so.Insults of your appearance: They let you know, just before you go out, that your hair is terrible or your outfit is clownish. Belittling your accomplishments: Your abuser may reveal to you that your accomplishments amount to nothing, or they may even guarantee obligation regarding your prosperity.Put-downs of your interests. They may disclose to you that your pastime is an immature exercise in futility. Extremely, it's that they'd prefer you not take an interest in exercises without them.Pushing your buttons: When your abuser thinks about something that pesters you, they'll bring it up or do it each shot they get. Micro-Cheating: Smaller scale tricking is considered by some to be manners by which your accomplice interfaces with others and conceals it from you. Lack of Respect for Your Privacy: This is regularly an unpretentious indication of psychological mistreatment. Your accomplice may check your private messages or phone messages as he/she don’t trust you.Property Damage: An injurious accomplice may break or "lose" something they know is important to you as an approach to rebuff you.Magic Tricks: Numerous sincerely injurious practices are "enchantment traps", intended to occupy you from the truth of the manners by which you are being abused. Playing the Blame Game: Accomplices utilizing force and control in a relationship regularly. They like to accuse you, saying things like, "On the off chance that you simply hadn't done that, I wouldn't have needed to act that path accordingly."Alienation: Abusive accomplices frequently need to control your identity permitted to have significant associations with, and how profound those associations ought to be permitted to run. This implies, after some time, you may feel as if you have lost a portion of your most strong associations with loved ones in light of the fact that your accomplice didn't support.: Endeavoring to make you feel embarrassed about your deficiencies is simply one more way to control.Threats: Disclosing to you they'll take the children and vanish, or saying "There's no determining what I may do." Monitoring your whereabouts: They need to know where you are constantly and demand that you react to calls or messages right away. They may appear just to check whether you're the place you should be.Digital spying: They need to know where you are constantly and demand that you react to calls or messages right away. They may appear just to check whether you're the place you should be.Unilateral decision-making: They may close a joint ledger, drop your medical checkup, or talk with your supervisor without inquiring.Financial control: They may keep ledgers in their name just and profit. You may be relied upon to represent each penny you spend.Lecturing:  Belaboring your blunders with long monologs makes it obvious they believe you're underneath them.Direct orders:  From "Get my supper on the table now" to "Quit taking the pill," orders are required to be pursued notwithstanding your arrangements in actuality.Outbursts: The practice like this may irritate you if someone orders you again and again by out-bursting.Treating you like a child: They reveal to you what to wear, what and the amount to eat, or which companions you can see.Feigned helplessness: They may state they don't have the foggiest idea of how to accomplish something. Once in a while, it's simpler to do it without anyone else's help than to clarify it. They know this and exploit it.Make you feel unimportant.Make you be feared of unknown.Unpredictability: They'll detonate with wrath out of the blue, all of a sudden give you fondness, or become dull and grouchy without a moment's notice to keep you tread lightly.They walk out: In a social circumstance, stepping out of the room gives you the shaft. At home, it's a device to keep the issue uncertain.Using others:  Abusers may reveal to you that "everyone" supposes no doubt about it "they all state" you're off-base.: They blame you for being a tease or undermining them.Jealousy: They state you cause their wrath due to jealousy.Turning the tables: They blame you for their bad habits. Make you feel about your limitations.Denying something you know is true: An abuser will deny that contention or even an understanding occurred. This is called a gas-lighting. It's intended to make you question your very own memory and mental stability.Using guilt: They may state something like, "You owe me this. See everything I've accomplished for you," trying to get their direction.Makes you feel that you are nothing without him/her.Goading then blaming:  Abusers realize exactly how to irritate you. Be that as it may, when the inconvenience begins, it's your deficiency for making it.Denying their abuse: When you whine about their assaults, abusers will deny it, apparently dumbfounded at its very idea.Accusing you of abuse: They state you're the person who has outrage and control issues and they're the vulnerable unfortunate casualty.Trivializing: When you need to discuss your hurt emotions, they blame you for blowing up and making mountains out of molehills.Saying you have no sense of humor: They make your fun by saying you have cracked a lame joke and will not a part of any conversation that can show you as an important person.Blaming you for their problems: Whatever’s wrong in their life is all your fault. You’re not supportive enough, didn’t do enough, or stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.Make you feel about your deficiencies.They may crack your cell phone screen or "lose" your vehicle keys, at that point deny it. Abusers tend to place their own emotional needs ahead of yours. Many abusers will try to come between you and people who are supportive of you to make you more dependent on them. Demanding respect: No apparent slight will go unpunished, and you're required to concede to them. Yet, it's a single direction road.Make you look back to your painful memories.Shutting down communication: They'll overlook your endeavors at discussion face to face, by content, or by telephone.Dehumanizing you: They'll turn away when you're talking or gaze at something different when they address you.Keeping you from socializing: Whenever you have plans to go out, they think of a diversion or distract you not to go.Trying to come between you and your family: They'll tell relatives that you would prefer not to see them or rationalize why you can't go to family works.Withholding affection: They won't contact you, not even to hold your hand or praise you on the shoulder. They may avoid you to accomplish something.Tuning you out: They’ll wave you off, change the subject, or just plain ignore you when you want to talk about your relationship.Actively working to turn others against you: They’ll tell co-workers, friends, and even your family that you’re unstable and prone to hysterics.Calling you needy: When you’re really down and out and reach out for support, they’ll tell you-you're too needy or the world can’t stop turning for your little problems.Interrupting: You’re on the phone or texting and they get in your face to let you know your attention should be on them.Make you feel useless.Make you not to see your abilities.Indifference: They see you hurt or crying and do nothing.Whatever you feel, they'll state you're inappropriate to feel that way or that is not by any means what you feel by any stretch of the imagination.A mutually dependent relationship is while all that you do is in response to your abuser's conduct. What's more, they need you the same amount of to support their very own confidence. You've overlooked how to be some other way. It's an endless loop of unfortunate conduct.Make negative commenting on you.

What to do

(Follow us to know more) If you’re being mentally and emotionally abused, trust your instincts. Know that it isn’t right and you don’t have to live this way. If you fear immediate physical violence, call your local emergency services. Otherwise, your choices come down to the specifics of your situation. Here’s what you can do: Accept that the abuse isn’t your responsibility.Disengage and set personal boundaries. Exit the relationship or circumstance. Give yourself time to heal.  Stay Tuned For More Good Things! Thank You! (This article is written as an assigned project on Up work and published here with the permission of Client) Read the full article