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cyeli-no · 1 year

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Idea: What Scares Cyno [Cyno & Kaveh]

Summary: Kaveh wants Cyno to openly be scared because that means he can finally rely on someone else and not over-exert himself. The first time Cyno shows his fear, it is with Kaveh and Kaveh is way out of his depth. He can't help Cyno as he watches his friend get dragged back to the Temple of Silence to be experimented on. It takes a month to find him, but he returns back a shell of his former self. He dissociates constantly, protecting himself from sudden noises or movement. He functions in fear, and Kaveh has to watch as his wish is granted in the worst possible way. As Cyno starts the path to healing (which is difficult and ugly and slow and it is incredibly frustrating and tiring), Kaveh struggles with his own guilt. His survivors guilt morphs to be an overwhelming feeling as if he is the cause for Cyno's suffering and he knows Cyno will never return to the person he was before.

The idea of Cyno getting captured for a friend is similar to my Cyno and Al-Haitham post, but their different reactions make me feel justified.

Relationships: Cyno & Kaveh (romantic/platonic), all Cyno friendships (background)

Trigger Warning: Human experimentation (non-explicit), drugging (non-explicit), torture (non-explicit)

─── ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Kaveh has never seen Cyno scared before, but he understands Cyno is not above feeling it at all. He knows Cyno's happiness and excitement more than he knows his anger and resentment. For all the rumors that curse the General Mahamatra as a monster, Kaveh found a friend who feels with his whole heart without expressing it.

He knows Cyno does not show his terror, is more used to be the cause of it, but he tries. He wishes that one day, he will feel safe enough amongst friends to tell them, "This scares me." It is a stupid thing to hope for, maybe even as cruel as Al-Haitham claims it to be, but Kaveh doesn't care.

Cyno is never afraid because being afraid is useless. He has a responsibility that he alone carries the weight of. If he afraid, no one will finish the job and he cannot afford that. Kaveh knows, so he prays for Cyno to have allies he call fall back on. Trustworthy people that he can turn to if he cannot finish a job. But, he understands thar Cyno would never turn his back on his duty that easily. He doesn't just pass his work to others, no matter what.

It was stupid, a drunken mistake. He lives with the displeased and annoyed judgement from Tighnari and knows he has no one to blame. It was always a passive thought, he never meant to tell Cyno about it. (He feels guilty enough without Al-Haitham reminding him, "You told our General that you were worried about his emotional stability." "I worded it badly!")

It isn't until a few weeks after apologizing and explaining what he actually meant (It was a long conversation and Cyno mostly sat and listened, like he always does. It makes his heart ache, how easily Cyno understood Kaveh's explanation. He was a mess and his sentences were barely coherent, and Cyno still accepted it without malice.) that Kaveh regrets ever hoping for Cyno's fear.

He hadn't realized how terrifying it would be to be with him as he stops fighting. They are both in a dangerous position, Cyno's blood already soaking into the sand and Kaveh entire body being flattened against the floor. The cloaked men speak in a language he doesn't understand, but Cyno clearly does. He reacts right away, body tensing at each word and face draining of color. He watches as Cyno faces him, uncertainty straining his expression for the first time, and his heart drops. He wanted to be Cyno's support, but is left helpless when he searches for it. His panic must've been clear on his face because Cyno's body steels itself again and he walks towards the source of his terror without hesitation.

A trade-off; Cyno returns to the source of his nightmares and a hell for childhood for Kaveh's freedom and life. No matter how much Kaveh screams, he can't stop it. He will never be able to forget the expression on his friend's face, will never shake the burden of guilt for being the reason another loved one will die, and will never forgive himself for being so weak that Cyno felt the need to comfort him moments before being dragged away. "I am stronger than I was before," he promised, "I will survive." (Words have always been important to Cyno, never the type to lie. So, it doesn't slip past Kaveh that Cyno will survive because he knows he will not be fine.)

When he is found, he has lost the tears and cries for a man lost in the desert. He is alive, but at what cost? He is brought back to be taken care of, but he demands they begin the search first. He is lightheaded, can barely walk, but he promises to answer every question as long as they find Cyno. Kaveh really can't be blamed for how he blabbers on their way back to the Akademiya, telling the disgruntled Al-Haitham about it all in vivid detail. He talks about Cyno's fear, the haunting memory of the General Mahamatra stumbling to stand and his eyes glossing over as the cloaked men drew closer. He whispers his own fears, fears that Cyno may be gone forever, and he pleads for Al-Haitham to go after him.

The issue is that they have no leads. Cyno's childhood is a mystery, even Cyrus does not know the full details despite raising him. Without information, all they have are allies.

From Kaveh's POV, he is just feeling overwhelming survivor's guilt and all of Cyno's friends trying their best and failing to find Cyno just makes it worse.

Dehya is the first to join the search. Her anger is relentless, sometimes casting Kaveh a furious look when she thinks he doesn't notice. He understands, he is not friends with her and the person who is remains trapped in a place they can't reach. Sometimes, it is at the General for being a fool who didn't bring anyone reliable with him into the desert. ("Someone who knows the desert, someone who would have his back!" Kaveh doesn't mean to hear that, but he does.) Candace offers as many supplies as she can to anyone who passed through her village in pursuit of Cyno. It is usually Dehya, sometimes it is Al-Haitham or Kaveh himself. She offers comfort, but it feels out of place when Kaveh can see her worry in the way her shoulders sag at news of failure. She doesn't blame Kaveh, even tried to talk him out of feeling it for himself, and he feels the familiar guilt building. She offers him comfort and he can't provide her any. ("All that matters is his safe return." She tells them during their first visit, the tired plea, "Al-Haitham, bring him back.") Tighnari can't traverse the desert well, but he will go whenever the weather permits. He would've aided in the search, but Al-Haitham denied him right away. "You have a child under your care, and we do not have time to waste to find you if you realize the sun is too bright." It is cruel and an argument does break because of it. Kaveh doesn't dare interject, just listening to the two snap back about the best course of action to save their mutual friend. Another fight breaks after a few weeks, Tighnari swearing he will go look for Cyno regardless of what he says. ("You've made no progress!" He doesn't mean for it to hurt, and maybe that's why it does even more, "Honestly, you wouldn't be able to catch me if you tried!") Collei is strictly not involved in the search. So, instead, she makes food for people who drop by to talk to Tighnari about Cyno. She sends them off with supplies and food, enough to last until Aaru Village and more rations in case. She sends letters to Candace for updates, but neither can afford to exchange too much information in case someone intercepts them. Still, it helps put her at ease to have someone she can always talk to while Tighnari is gone. (Sometimes, when everyone is busy in their hunt, she makes tahchin. She leaves it on the table and tells Kaveh, "If he comes home, he'll probably be very hungry.") It takes three weeks before finding the lead that will take them straight to Cyno. Nilou is out of her element the entire time because there is nothing she can do to help. That is until she hears some people at one of her dances. Some adventurers returned from the desert with whispers of a man who appears similar to the General. Apparently, he was seen walking into some temple ruins deep into the desert, somewhere Tighnari and Dehya searched a few weeks prior. She instantly sends word out to Nahida and Al-Haitham, which is how Kaveh finds out. (He is the first to see her, to talk to her, as she smiles, "At least, now, we have something.") Nahida is fast to demand action, to call Dehya back and to send her and Kaveh to the temple. Tighnari and Al-Haitham are to visit some of the nearby ruins to see if there is any lingering information there. Nilou insists on going with Dehya in case they miss anything. As Kaveh follows them into the temple, the feeling of uselessness drains his energy. The duo are already friends and have worked well together before. Him? He is barely on good terms with Nilou and Dehya seems to still have lingering tensions.

From Cyno's POV, he suffers the entire time. They are doing tests on him, trying to separate Hermanubis from his body and move it to a different vessel, one who did not turn their back on the desert and its pantheon. The people from the Temple of Silence realize that without his vision, he is much more compliant. Hermanubis wants to protect Cyno, but his body is too weak to properly house it. Not wanting to kill him, the priests do give him days of reprieve to heal. Around the third week, when Cyno's body has enough energy to be possessed, Hermanubis tries to escape. They manage to get out (which is when the adventurers saw him), but it overestimated its vessel. He is dragged back, trapped for four more days before he is rescued.

Al-Haitham manages to retrieve his vision easily and they all end up escorting Cyno back. It is supposed to be a happy ending, Kaveh believes. He thinks, the entire ride back, that at least Cyno is home. He is home and he is safe and everything will be better—

He watches Cyno fall apart. They try to connect him to an IV because he is severely malnourished and dehydrated, and Hermanubis instantly takes over. Nahida needs to drag him into a dream-filled slumber before they are able to start to take care of him.

Even when he wakes up, he seems to be in comatose. He doesn't respond to anyone, barely even looks up from where his arm is connected to machines. When Collei sees him, her entire body stiffens and she has to rush out of the room. The intense pain of being sealed away aches more. (Tighnari suspects it's because of something the Temple of Silence did, but Collei doesn't care. It feels as if all the progress she made was useless because some people could not afford to leave Cyno alone. She cries bitter and angry tears, ones that Dehya sits her through because no one else seems to understand them as much. Kaveh catches the sight on accident, but it won't leave his mind.) The worst part is how Cyno doesn't even react. He watches her run out as if it is a stranger.

Whenever the doctors try to work on him, it is as if his mind leaves his body completely. His eyes turn glassy, seeing something no one else does, and he remains stiff the entire time. He relaxes when told, stiffens when they draw closer, and it is a horrendous cycle of forcing his body to ease up in a way that clearly makes him uncomfortable. His friends try to offer support, but none of them are really able to get through to him. No one except for Kaveh.

The anesthesia is doing its job, pulling Cyno back into darkness, and the General can barely hold back a shudder. His eyes narrow, struggling to focus on the blonde. His voice is hoarse and his throat burns from disuse. It takes less than a second for the man to fly to his bedside.

He doesn't even need to ask before Cyno admits it all, loose lipped. There is shame that crawls up his veins as he trembles from something that is supposed to be bringing him comfort. It is cruel for them to ask when he is so vulnerable, when he is closer to asleep. ("It's necessary to ensure he is taken care of." Al-Haitham says, but Kaveh doesn't know how Cyno will react if he finds out they betrayed him in such a way. Would Cyno even consider it a betrayal?)

So they get some details about it all. Mostly, it comes in the form of how Cyno could not control his body at all. He was drugged to the point where he could see them cutting through him without feeling it. He watched them every movement and his body refused to obey his commands. ("I should've been able to escape." He goes silent after, insistent of that one fact.) And, the more he talks, the more Kaveh sees shadows of the fear-filled expression from all those weeks ago.

He can see it so clearly in the way Cyno bites his tongue now, how he instinctively moves further away from doctors and always inches towards the door. He sees how Cyno's body will freeze at anyone's touch and his mind and body shuts down quickly, always trying to protect itself from everyone. He watches his friend cower away and all he can remember is all those months ago, when he told Cyno he hoped for this.

(Not like this, he tries to convince himself, I didn't mean it like this. I wanted Cyno to feel safe enough with us to not force himself to be strong. I didn't want this—)

It's cruel how Celestia ended up granting his wish and how it won't answer Kaveh's new plea.

#cyno #cyno angst #kaveh #cyno and kaveh #kavehno #general maha-martyr #fic idea

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cryptidshadows · 1 year

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To the Weird Dysphoria Anon!

I got your message, and I understand your experience is kinda graphic, so I put my thoughts and your Q under the cut! (Body horror/dysphoria/uncomfortable experiences)

Anon's message was:

"Trans man with the weird experience of dysphoria again! I don’t mind if it gets published, I just don’t want to trigger anybody because the way I describe shit is kinda…idk, graphic? My experience is strange because I almost never feel that my body itself is wrong. I just don’t -fit- in it. It hit with puberty and believing that whatever used to live in this body had given it up and I’d taken over for them. It was always knowing that it didn’t move quite right, having to pay extra attention because my fingers and feet weren’t where they were supposed to be. It was wanting to be the Beast saving and saved by Belle, but also identifying with Ariel from The Little Mermaid. It was pretending to be an animal because it felt closer to the truth. As I got into high school, though, it got scarier for me. It was feeling too small, too tight, too soft, feeling the need to dig my claws into my flesh and tear off my skin like a monster in horror movies and go screaming into the woods. It was feeling my bones itch and my teeth aching, feeling static under my skin all the time. On the worst days, it was waking up not knowing who or what or where I was and just going into auto pilot, fighting wave after wave of anxiety as ‘They’ fed me bits and pieces of who this body really belonged to. It was nightmares of being trapped, of having to navigate an ever-changing maze and knowing I would die if I couldn’t. It was feeling that the world was wrong, that I was in the wrong place, that the people around me were talking to a person that I was just pretending to be. It was derealization and dissociation and being angry when a character I identified with was referred to as a girl. (As I said, I am not a smart man.) But I never felt like I was a man. I just knew I wasn’t this. I thought I was a monster in human skin. It’s only now that I’m really paying attention that the monster isn’t trying to eat me from the inside out."

Yeah, I did also very much get the deep need to tear off my skin and let my real self out of me, like it was a caged beast. And I still want to run into the woods and never look back lol. There was definitely a strong connection to monsters, dinosaurs, aliens, robots, anything inhuman throughout my life.

I know we're far from the only kids who pretended to be animals, but it was very real to me in a way that I think was distinct. The way I walked and moved and lived it was different, like most kids tucked it away once it was time to come back to class. I was constantly lost in that other world, the other me. It could be connected to neurodivergence too, and as you stated, some of the things you experience sound like they're tied to derealization and dissociation, common things to go through as a trans person and also common for people with trauma. I never experienced anything as severe as the dissociation you're describing but I definitely understand it. And the sense of everyone around me talking to a person I was pretending to be made me feel like I lacked real depth and connections with people.

I lived in a fictional world in my head 90% of the time, and in that fictional world, I was anything but human the majority of the time. And that kinship with monsters while being trans is what drew me to create my comic Wanderlust. The monsterlover/terato community is full of trans people, and it's much more than just a kink to most of us. You're definitely not alone.

#asks #ask me anything #gender dysphoria #body horror #shapeshifter #transformation #monsterlover #terato

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oathofpromises · 1 year

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Continued Thread from here with: @destallo

Jill knew it was a mistake to utter those words, the second they left her mouth. How could she think this would end any differently than Leon getting agitated at her. He was right, it was his choice and something she couldn’t convince him to change. Not that she would ever try to force him to alter any of his habits, but could anyone blame her for being worried. She had seen so many times what this path led to. It was the same one her own father had taken. Every single time, it always led to regrets and broken promises. An ache that never seemed to go away. The cycle that never ended. This was something she had accepted the moment the two of them got together. She understood that he would have struggles, and sometimes drift into his own thoughts. Dissociate from everyone, but could she say she didn’t do similar things to numb the pain? To find anything to make her feel anything but those emotions. It was how they deal with them, and for so long Jill had accepted that. She still understood that, but seeing how carelessly he was to toss his life away like this hurt more than any wound.

The harsh reality was the two had seen so much through their lives, been hurt and lost so much. Not a regular person could fully grasp the shit they had been force to see. The amount of times the two were constantly dragged back into the hell they wanted nothing more than to escape from, but life had other plans. Jill’s hand slowly clenched into a closed fist. It was hard to take in all the words he was tossing at her, but it was something she knew had to be done. This was her consequence for saying what she did. He was mad at her, and had every right to voice his feelings.

Jill winced slightly, as she heard Leon say her last name, which meant he was serious. Not that she didn’t think he was before. The woman was really conflicted because a part of her wanted to comfort him, but another was..angry. He thought his life meant nothing. Which she understood the reasons why he thought that way, but didn’t mean that he meant nothing to her. Leon was her world, as cheesy as that sounded. She could stand by and let him drink whenever he wanted. However, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t say anything if it felt like he was tossing his life away. Cerulean eyes looked at Leon, as she just stood there, letting all his words sink in. It was a lot, and most people probably would’ve left like he had asked. It was clear he didn’t want to talk further, but Jill was stubborn. Something she considered both a blessing and a curse. It did tend to lead her into trouble quite a lot, but this was Leon. She couldn’t just turn her back on him.

“Kennedy. You think I said that because I’m trying to get you to stop drinking. No. You can do what you want, but I care about you. As much of an inconvenience, you might think that is..I can’t just shut off my feelings and pretend that I don’t see that you’re hurting. I have hardly ever pushed you to talk about things, but lately I see you trying so hard to close off from me, too. Do you get how much that hurts?”

The woman’s face was red with anger, as her hands grabbed onto his jacket and forced Leon to look into her eyes. Tears were falling down them, as her body was shaking. This was the exact same thing he had done to everyone else around him. Push them away so hard because he was afraid to hurt someone. The words from his past echoing around his head on constant loop. They haunted him, but all Jill knew was she wanted to be with him. To stay close and the fear that her own stubbornness could cause Leon to fade from her life shattered the agent's entire soul.

She could feel him crumbling into that dark abyss, losing himself to ghosts from his distant past. While she wanted desperately to do anything for him. She knew that words could only do so much, and sometimes even those would only make matters worse but, here they were arguing. Their faces close, as Jill hands clenched into the fabric of his jacket. It was so hard sometimes, but she never complained. After all, she wasn’t easy to be with either. They both had scars, things from their pasts that stayed with them. It was an endless cycle, one that Jill was tired of, but she tried so hard to show him that someone cared. That no matter how hard things tried to push them, a part that she wasn’t going to budge. She did know the times to give him space, but right now it felt like the opposite. That if she left it would somehow break both of them, even if the two were naturals at hiding such things.

“I ALWAYS HAVE FUCKING LOVED YOU. HATE ME IF YOU WANT, BUT I CAN’T LOSE YOU TOO.” Her voice broke. Something that never happened to Jill, but it did, and just as quickly she felt all the air leave her lungs. Heart pounding rapidly against her chest. The woman was trying so hard to convey her deeper emotions to the other, even if it broke her. She didn’t mind getting dragged down, as long as they were together.

“YOU MAY NOT CARE, BUT I DO!!! I’ve seen what this has done to people like my father…it’s the thing that killed him. I can’t lose you to this too. I don’t care that you drink…I just don’t want to wake up one morning and see you no longer there. Leon..you entered my heart so quickly. I shut people, only focus on the mission, but you were different. Shit...do you know how often I thought about ending it? The amount of days I drank simply to drown out the screaming inside my heart. I don’t blame you..for getting mad..I know you’ve been hurt too..but please don’t push me away. You can yell at me all you want..but I’m begging you, don’t abandon me.”

Don’t push it…calm yourself Jill.

She could hear her heart begging for this all to stop, that giving him space now would be better. Normally she would, but Jill also knew too well that he would blame himself for this argument. When reality was, she pushed his buttons, went somewhere that he didn’t want to talk about. Typical Jill, though, she was worried and her words didn’t come out the best. Work had exhausted her badly, so it was hard to remain gentle. The main thing, though, was Leon tended to be quite reckless. Which was a huge factor in how much weight he had taken on his own shoulders at such a young age. They were older now, but that kind of thing still clung to a person.

Hands slowly let go of his jacket, as bangs covered Jill’s face. It was hard to even look at Leon right now. Not because she was angry at him. The fact was, she hated herself for saying such words that started this entire argument in the first place. She simply couldn’t leave things be without voicing her concern. That she loved him so much that sometimes her heart ached.

“I told you long ago, that I accept all sides to you, and I do. However, I am not going to turn and leave you.. No matter how much I annoy you..Call me a fool, tell me that I am making a big mistake by being around you. I don’t care because I know what my heart wants..and that is you. If you want space, fine. I will respect that, but don’t think that means I don’t love you..because I do, more than anything.”

#We will not bow down(Leon Kennedy/destallo)#Raccoon City's ashes will be Umbrella's(Main verse)#tw:Long post #ooc: Jill loves him so much;;#You are my light amidst the darkness(Jilleon/destallo)

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stormywitcher · 6 months

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okay hi hello. what is going on? good question.

i have read 9 books this month and i have decided that no, that is not healthy, that is not “good for mental health”. it is in fact bad, as i have basically dissociated for the last 26 days and now i have to face reality and cannot FUNCTION.

the chronic fatigue and pain is getting to be a lot now, i hate leaving the house, i hate seeing people, i hate getting dressed. every single task is monumental, eating is hard, showering is hard, the only thing I am good at is sleeping or chain smoking cigarettes while reading.

I have bailed on the last 5 social events I was invited to.

my body aches, constantly.

i am 22, not able to work, barely functioning, living on benefits and having to apply for more. My mum has had to get a job to support me AT 22 YEARS OLD WHEN I SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO THAT MYSELF.

and worst of all, I try to tell myself this isn’t my fault, that I’m doing my best, that I am not a complete and utter waste of an existence, but I don’t truly believe that. I cannot. Not when my self worth is so down the drain that I can’t stand to see myself in a mirror or go out and have anyone else look at me.

My job was literally performing/presenting and now I can’t even look at myself. I cannot cope with anyone looking at me.

I have given up thinking I can love someone, or can be loved. Sure my friends and family love me. But real love, it doesn’t fucjing exist, at least not me for. I cannot feel it, I want to so bad but I can’t. And I fucking know that no one will feel it for me, as I will never be able to return it. I am a cursed aromantic hopeless romantic and that’s just brilliant isn’t it?

I am worried. They’ve done tests and I am a lab rat for a bit. It looks like they found out what’s wrong with me too. The first test has come back saying I make 6 times the amount of cortisol (stress hormone) than I should be, which is FUCKED and no wonder I am feeling so horrendous. But now I’m stressed. What if all the other tests I now have to do come back fine and this was my fault for being lazy and just mentally ill?

There is literally nothing I can do until the doctors get more results. I have never been more hopeful to be diagnosed with a rare disease (Cushings) and a potential tumour lol. Because if it is, then it’s treatable. But if it’s not then it’s just back to square fucking one again.

I’m just fucking over it. I’m over this. I am not living. I am existing. And not even because I want to, but because I have to for everyone else. It’s not even something I get a choice about. I’m just fucking stuck here taking up air for no reason.

Mum booked me therapy for Tuesday lol. No fucking wonder.

sorry for the rant but I literally needed to just write down what is swirling in my hear every fucking day all the time that I can’t share because no one needs to fucking hear how shit I feel all the time.

#mossy thoughts #mossy rant #tw sui ideation #tw sui vent

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fatiguing-thoughts · 3 years

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“Possibility” - Embry Call x Reader

We made it to song no. 4! This one is gonna be on the angsty/whumpy side. I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading. I should be uploading another soon :)

also please if you ever feel this way, reach out to someone, me even, and seek help. this is NOT a healthy state of existence but it fits the song phenomenally. it’s a great depiction in the movie as well. I hope you enjoy :)

There's a possibility There's a possibility All that I had was all I'm gon' get

It was like someone had ripped a piece of me away.

It was like a hole was punched right through my chest, a hollow memory aching through my body.

The pain was dull, it rained over me constantly.

It felt as if there was a constant weight on my chest, holding me down from feeling anything other than this numbing sorrow.

I needed Embry.

There's a possibility There's a possibility All I gon' get is gon' be yours then All I gon' get is gon' be yours still

I still remembered the last day I saw him.

It was weird, he was so out of character the last few days. He wasn’t exactly like himself-- he was on edge. He was angry.

Embry wasn’t an angry guy, he was the sweetest guy I’d ever meet.

Always romantic, making sure I was okay.

But he was gone.

I couldn’t bear the thought that he was gone forever.

We were high school sweethearts. Childhood best friends who turned into lovers.

But where did he disappear to?

Even his mother couldn’t tell me anything.

The boy who was in constant contact with me on a daily basis went radio silent.

Disappeared into thin air like he never even existed.

This was an entirely new pain. It was achingly numb, as if I could no longer feel my sheets as I slowly dragged my fingers across the linen.

Embry was the only one I loved, the only one I was capable of loving.

Where could he have gone? Why did he up and leave?

I felt as if my heart stopped beating the last day I heard from him.

It’s been a week. None of my calls ever getting returned, showing up to his house to see nothing other than his equally distressed mother.

Life was bleak without Embry.

So tell me when you hear my heart stop You're the only one that knows Tell me when you hear my silence There's a possibility I wouldn't know

The only person who could calm me down was gone.

The only person who destroyed all bad thoughts with a mere brushing of fingers on my hand.

The only person who cradled me like they were holding the entire world in their hands.

The only person who professed their love to me on a daily basis.

But now, his face haunted my dreams. Close enough to see his face, but a barrier separated us. My pleading screams falling upon deaf ears.

I woke up in a sweat, silently crying as I looked around my room to see the absence of him.

And as the days moved on, things were only seemingly getting worse.

I could barely get myself to move, everything felt painstakingly numb.

I truly couldn’t tell if my heart was beating anymore; I stopped listening to the thumping at night when I laid my head against my pillow.

I lost touch with reality, nothing felt real anymore. I didn’t feel real anymore, he didn’t feel real anymore.

Know that when you leave Know that when you leave By blood and by me you walk like a thief By blood and by me, and I fall when you leave

I felt my world crumble when he up and left.

No warning, no sigh of imminent departure on his end.

Jake and Quil were sad, too. Though, they didn’t feel it as deep as I did.

No, I felt this pain to the very bone, I felt it physically throughout my entire body, my entire nervous system suffered.

It’s like Embry took a piece of him with me when he left; as if he took my entire heart with him.

So tell me when you hear my heart stop You're the only one that knows Tell me when you hear my silence There's a possibility I wouldn't know

The dissociation was very intense. Jake and Quil tried their best to get me out of my room.

They tried to tear me away from my bed as I stared at my ceiling. Or when I sat in front of my window, watching the trees sway in the wind.

I watched as the world changed around me.

I watched as time moved forward, but I stayed frozen.

I needed him to come back.

I needed him to return the piece of me that left my very soul.

This pain was unimaginable, the dull ache in my chest unwavering even after two weeks.

I needed to know he was real.

I needed to know that we were real.

So tell me when my sigh's over You're the reason why I'm closed Tell me when you hear me fallin' There's a possibility it wouldn't show

I couldn’t be consoled, nothing helped.

Everything led back to him.

Jake and Quil would show up at my house to just make sure I was even alive.

If I were to be honest, it didn’t really feel like it.

I got used to them joining me for a little bit in my room.

They brought water and snacks, trying to force feed me, seemingly begging for me to speak.

It had felt like forever since I had spoken a word to anyone.

“Thanks.” I would murmur, looking at them apologetically.

But when they had to leave, I laid in my bed at night, wishing he would return.

I wish he’d come back.

By blood and by me, and I'll fall when you leave By blood and by me, I follow your lead

Embry took a piece of me when he up and left.

It was like he took all my feelings when he left, leaving me here achingly numb.

It was like someone took my oxygen away.

It was as if there was a crushing weight on my chest at all times, pushing me down further.

I felt as if I was drowning.

I needed Embry.

Wondering if and when he would ever come back to me.

Wondering when I suddenly stopped existing.

#embry call #embry call x reader #embry call imagine #embry call fanfiction #jacob black #quil ateara #sam uley #jared cameron #paul lahote #leah clearwater #seth clearwater #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader

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creacherkeeper · 3 years

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lol hey fh pr au anon again, and like really thinking about the cases where one of the kids have to pilot the jaeger alone bc their co pilot is down for whatever reason. like the strain it must put on their mind. adaine doing it once in the final fight w aelwyn and getting grey hairs. riz doing it not once but TWICE (the wicklaw fight and the final fight) and having issues with controlling his nervous system. truly this au is sooo good ngl i kinda imagine it as 90% pacific rim and 10% eva just because of how these kaiju sound sooooo horrifying (in the best way)

i think in this au the people who've solo piloted are:

arthur aguefort

i think no one knows who aguefort's co-pilot was, except for ayda and the original pilots, but in my head it was his wife/partner. ayda's mom. i think that's why ayda doesn't talk about it, is because she's bitter that being a pilot took both her mother away from her at a young age, and the emotional and physical trauma of having his partner die while in the drift made her father a very absent man. i think the specific effect it had on him was that it mimicked/triggered early onset dementia. while he was still able to head the program, it was with the help of pok, for a while, then sandra lynn. he tended to not always stay grounded in what was happening and get "unstuck in time", mentally. the bad kids have never really seen him act different than the highly eccentric man they know, but i think sandra lynn and ayda have a really good talk about it after everything is over. he has a close relationship with kristen since she's the one that handles his care and meds and she never treats him with kid gloves

riz

riz solo pilots during the flayer fight. flayer rips straight through the cockpit, detaching fabian from his spinal clamp as well as incredibly damaging his eye. its enough to make him go into shock. riz not only finishes the fight, but has to crawl the jaeger back home, with half the cockpit torn out and fabian dangling out the side, tangled in the wiring. fabian was connected just enough that riz could see the ground swinging below him like an afterimage. afterwards, fabian doesn't really remember a lot of what happened, but riz does. he's the one that gets weird about heights after that. and by "weird" i mean that his body starts to feel shock-like symptoms whenever he looks out a tall window. like an afterimage. the only reason anyone lets them back in a jaeger is because the world might end if they dont

fabian

kalvaxus grabs the gilded spyglass and drops it from a mile up. the ground rushing towards them and the sheer force of wind through the cracked hull is enough to steal riz's breath straight from his lungs. he's not even conscious to put on the oxygen mask. within the span of two fights, fabian goes from seeing out of four eyes to just one. with a combination of burning all their thruster fuel and wedging their sword in the tower of a bridge, he manages to stop them from being completely destroyed when they hit the water. the whole time, in the back of his mind, he feels riz dreaming about pok. solo piloting, and piloting with one eye, completely fries fabian's proprioceptive sense. he does a lot of music therapy, after. dancing. that's how he relearns it. learns to keep his feet under him again, where all his limbs go, how close everything is. it never goes anywhere, no matter how hard they tease adaine about it, but aelwyn is his partner for a lot of these classes. it takes a very long time for fabian to feel just in his body again, and not constantly take into account both riz and their jaeger. in the drift, he sees in 3d. he has to get used to everything going flat

aelwyn

during the final fight, adaine chases the rabbit. their cockpit fills with water. she chokes. not literally, but that's what she was seeing. the thing about the drift is that whats in your head is just as real as anything else. so when kalvaxus takes a massive claw and holds them under the ocean, and the oxygen warning starts flashing, adaine just goes. aelwyn sees their fight with mother and father, can feel the storm oracle begin to flood in their shared neural link. she's angry. and she knows adaine can feel it. she knows it's only making things worse. when adaine starts to see mother and father - not the kaiju, but their real, human, somehow far more terrifying parents - aelwyn knows the tougher fight is not kalvaxus, not kalina or nightmare, but getting adaine back from this. the anger fades. something else takes its place. protection. just pure, unfiltered protective instinct. and she fights. she fights with one half of her mind in their childhood and one half at the end of the world. she calls the play with kalvaxus. she blasts nightmare with a jet of coolant. and the whole time, she talks. she talks to adaine. reminds her where they are, what they're doing, who they're with. she manages to get adaine back just in time for both of them to blast nightmare with a plasma cannon, right into moonlit werewolf's arms. afterwards, they sit on the demolished bridge, waiting for kristen to come back up. and she holds adaine. she holds on tight. the consequences come in aches and pains that never really go away. in weak muscles and shaky steps. nerve damage. some problem with her brain stem. she pours all her learning into prosthetics and tries not to think about it too much. its easier to be distracted

kristen

kristen doesn't really talk about what happened, after she ejected tracker from the moonlit werewolf and went through the breach by herself. she'll laugh about it. oh, it was crazy shit, man. you wouldn't even believe. but she never really explains. she was conscious for enough of it that she managed to blow the nuclear reactor and bring the whole breach down while her pod ejected and flew through back to their ocean. they don't know when the fragmented horn of nightmare pierced her chest. how long she stayed awake afterwards. they try to talk to her. crazy shit, she'll say, and that's all. only sometimes it's like she just disappears. goes glassy in the eyes and stares for a long time, like she's somewhere very far away. they don't know if the dissociation is physical or mental, because she won't get checked out. ptsd, jawbone says. seizures, says ayda. the ironic part is that kristen herself is usually the person they would go to to find out. crazy shit, man, she says. crazy shit

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #the bad kids #pacific rim au #LISTEN IF YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT SOLO PILOTING AND THE CONSEQUENCES YOURE GONNA GET SOME ANGST!!!!!#I WAS A FUCKING WHUMP WRITER IF YOU WANT THERE TO BE REPERCUSSIONS FOR THE MENTAL AND PHYSICAL DAMAGE OF BEING A PILOT #THEN THAT IS WHAT I SHALL GIVE YOU #one foot in real life one foot in pacific rim au #yall are too good to me

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coconut-cluster · 4 years

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so weird to me that mental health and illness looks different in a lot of people, but we usually only recognize the prototypes? like obviously they’re prototypes for a reason, like they best encapsulate the cognitive behavior yadda yadda, but for big things (common things like adhd, depression, anxiety, etc) i feel like at SOME point we should get into a little more detail about the broader range of symptoms and manifestations??? (especially with all those godforsaken health classes US kids have to take like. no mr zimmerman i don’t need to know the chemical makeup of ketamine but i would have loved to know that memory loss is a common symptom in a ton of common mental illnesses and learning disorders)

like i didn’t know i had adhd til sophomore year of high school because my inattentive symptoms were different than my sisters’ hyperactive symptoms - i did well in school where they struggled and fell behind, so no one bothered to check with me, despite the fact that i took way longer to understand instructions compared to the kids in my class, doodled all the time on any paper i was given, daydreamed constantly, always had to be moving my hands, i was “too sensitive” to criticism, etc. and what that ended up with was me feeling like i was just horrible at being a “smart kid” instead of just a kid with a different process.

i doubted having anxiety because my panic attacks looked different than my sisters’ and the ones i saw on tv - those were always characterized by hysterics or dizziness and loss of breath, but mine were usually muscle tremors and chills/hot flashes and nausea. (i didn’t know my panic attacks were panic attacks until march of this year. and i only found out then because i read an expanded list of symptoms in my abnormal psych textbook for a project.) my anxiety got to the point of nightly stomach aches for months on end, to the point of an ulcer in 8th grade, and i was like “but i’m not always worried like my little sister is :(((” because that was what i thought anxiety was.

i had NO idea that there was more to dissociation than feeling out-of-body. my older sister told me all the time about how her dissociation felt like she was watching herself from outside her body, like she was floating or like life wasn’t real, textbook depersonalization stuff, and i had always been taught in psych classes that that is dissociation, full stop. i found out literally three weeks ago that feeling numb, completely forgetting what you were saying moments before, feeling bad like you just flashed back to something but not being able to recall what it was, finding yourself rocking back and forth or side to side, those are all possible symptoms of dissociation?? like are you serious?? you know how much that explains and validates??? dude

my point in this is like. at least in America, where i had to take literally five semesters of health in my time in the public school system (all of which taught me about marijuana and alcoholism over and over), there should be a period in health classes where we talk more in depth about these things. mental illnesses and disorders have prototypes for good reason but it would be great if we more widely acknowledged that those rarely describe everyone’s experience.

#lexi talks #not sanders sides #mental health #tw alchohol mention #tw drugs mention #long post

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pastelchris · 3 years

Text

shotgun.

PAIRING: jeon jeongguk x kim taehyung

GENRE: heavy angst.

WARNINGS: major character death, mention of blood, mention of weapons, cursing, mention of wounds and heavy heavy angst.

author’s note: hi!! i’m back with something different this time! i’ll keep it short because it’s almost midnight and i have school tomorrow. i’ve had this story in my notes for years now, it’s one of the first i’ve ever written and today since i didn’t have the strength to write something new, i decided it was time for her to be translated! so here she his, just something i couldn’t stop thinking about after watching not today’s mv for the first time. the pure wave of panic in jeongguk’s eyes when he hears the shotguns and turns around has been in my mind since 2017. said that, i hope you’ll enjoy this as much as i did when i wrote it!

ashes and snow mixed with each other, becoming one, as they slowly fell back on the boy’s pitch black locks and sweat dripping face of jeongguk, hiding behind a car, the rifle well clasped in his hands, ready to be used.

that was going to be the final match,

they had sent him the live coordinates, and the team had immediately left to the suburbs, armed from head to toe, determined to capture once and for all the gang that had been haunting their city for months now.

click.

in the silence of the night, light up only by the moon and the streetlights, as well as the various led lights of the abandoned building, the sound of a weapon being loaded echoed.

jeongguk clawed his ears, indicating the others to follow him, flattening against the vehicle, he begun to walk to the source of noise, stepping out in the parking lot in front of the building, whom was completely empty If not for a single figure, quietly dangling in the middle of nowhere, a gun in his right hand and a red hair band between his ashy blonde hair, locks comfortably falling on his eyes and cheekbones, he looked like the most dangerous of angels.

he had always been like this, as far as jeongguk could recall, his aurea would make the most turn their gazes away, they feared him, and yet were so fascinated by the presence of that tall, beautiful creature, radiating such confidence and power, there were rumors going around the campus that a gaze of his would be enough to light you up and leave nothing but ashes behind his back once he was gone.

as their eyes met, jeongguk felt the ground under his feet almost disappearing;

that look of his had been the cause of his destruction, so deep and expressive, seemed to be constantly staring into his soul.

he saw him grin, perfectly conscious of the positions of his, and jeongguk’s allies.

the dark haired turned around, stumbling into a bundle of pink locks, none other than his first officer and best friend.

« jesus, jimin! » he hissed,

« Quick, go to the other side, we’ll take care of this mess, take seokjin with you, if the situation gets complicated here, come back, if not, stay there, got me? »

jimin nodded before slipping silently in the night, side to side with the oldest, who took a last glance at jeongguk before he disappeared into the darkness.

once he was sure that they had obeyed his order, the raven haired returned to pay attention to the figure, which in the meantime was looking at his nails, waiting for some sign of him, which didn't come, forcing him to speak.

« damn jeongguk, years of living together and you won't even say hello? »

he flicked the tongue on the roof of his mouth, disappointed, as he added:

« have they not taught you manners? or did a cat feast with your tongue? yet when we were together, you’d always have so many things to say....» he let out a short laugh, no hilarity, and then went back to looking at him, eyes lost into the darkness of the parking lot.

« well then I'll have to teach you everything again i guess. »

and from there it was complete chaos.

his comrades came out from the shadow, hair bands in head and guns in hands, they started shooting.

being repaid by the policemen, who jumped out of the cars, the black bullet vests dirty of snow and ashes and the guns ready tightly between the hands.

but taehyung wanted him,

and he wouldn't waste his bullets on anyone else.

there he was, standing there in the corner, leaning over a car, he waited for jeongguk to arrive, who didn't delay to please him, popping out of the car, his dark eyes on the oldest, who stared back with an excited, curious look in his ones, like a young sherlock holmes who was presented a stimulating case after months of withdrawal.

jeongguk armed the gun, ready to fire, sweat was dripping on his face, from the forehead where dark hair stick, to his chin, biting down his cold lips, he closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the situation, he dissociated by reality for a couple of minutes;

as he came back to his senses, he froze to the spot, taking in the sudden silence around him.

as he suddenly came back to reality, dropping his weapon, starting to turn around, he realized that he was alone, his mates, twenty, twenty-five brave men like him, were laying down in pools of blood that dyed with crimson red the pearly white snow.

at that moment, chest quickly rising and falling and head spinning around,

he thought that if the expression "the sky fell on him" really existed, then by then he would’ve already been dead under the weight of the dark deep sky.

he fell down on his knees, hot tears making their way from his burning eyes to his dirty cold cheeks, followed by sobs, which gradually turned into a rag, then into a scream.

he screamed until his throat started to ache, until he felt like he had no more voice to let out, tearing the nocturne silence apart.

once he recovered a little bit of lucidity, getting a hold of himself, he looked up, eyes full of hatred, towards the blonde boy, who was already looking at him, feeling almost sympathy for that child who had just lost his entire team.

he approached him, kindly laid the barrel of the gun under his chin, followed by one hand on his shoulder.

taehyung lifted his face with the weapon, causing their noses to touch, he gulped, conscious that what he was about to do would only complicate the situation, but unable to hold back.

he softly laid his lips on jeongguk’s, capturing them in a kiss that soon led to despair and anger, leaving the younger in a total state of confusion;

jeongguk felt ashamed, he felt absolutely an ass as he kissed the other back, choosing to forget for a second everything that was going on around them.

taehyung’s lips still tasted the same, they weren’t sweet, nothing of his was except for his face; it was more as if a lightning bolt just fell over him, it gave him goosebumps and made him feel free; taehyung had this power over him, of making jeongguk feel like the freest of people, it made everything seem possible, even the most far things.

jeongguk sighed into the other’s lips

returning to when they were two completely normal high school kids, to when they were on the same side and their biggest problem was what movie they were going to see at the cinema on the weekend.

he closed his eyes, letting the other swallow him into the kiss, feeling tears stain his cheeks with their transparent, warm liquid.

he thought that if that was his end, then it could have been way worse.

click.

the magical aura of that moment was abruptly ripped out by a hiss, followed by a whisper, then blood.

jungkook's arms trembled, stretching out with around the older, trying to hold him, face crossed by the panic of someone who had never faced that situation, not on his skin.

he started calling for help without realizing, embracing the blonde's body in his arms, who in the meantime was looking at him through his eyelashes, face contracted in pain.

he stretched his hand out over jeongguk’s cheek, wiping out a tear, then turned it down to his lips, releasing them from his teeth.

« j-jeez, how many times have I told you to not to bite your lips? you're just gonna ruin them. »

his voice put some lucidity back in jeongguk, who shifted his gaze back over him, grimace getting slowly replaced by a slight smile.

« good boy. »

the dark haired tried to speak, but not a sound came out, leaving him hanging on a painful sigh, while the sirens of the police could be heard in the distance, he was unable to think of anything else except the body that was growing colder and heavier in his arms, staining him with musky red blood.

« t-taehyung?» he said, voice high key shaking, receiving a positive sign from the other, who slightly nodded, struggling to let out any words over the growing pain.

« yeah gguk, im pretty sure that’s my name. can you /please/ smile for me? i deserve it, don't I? if I am to die, I want to take your beautiful smile to the afterlife.»

but jeongguk couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't smile, he chuckled off a sob as he felt him grab his hand and lay it on his chest.

he saw him look up on the night sky before speaking once more, his voice reduced to a flexible whisper.

« Isn't she beautiful?»

the younger looked up, meeting the presence of the moon, who looked at them quietly from the dark sky.

he nodded, charmed.

« yes... yes, it is, it is beautiful. »

he unconsciously put his head on the older’s chest - growing colder and colder by the seconds - he crouched by his side, grasping him as if his own life depended from it.

his chin started trembling and silent tears wet the fabric that was completely red on which his head was laying.

he felt the older’s heartbeat slowing down over and over and over, until it became almost an imperceptible sound.

then every noise stopped, the moment the blond parted his blueish lips, letting one last word out, which he had taught to him the full meaning years before, and that had been suspended between them for years.

« i love you. »

and he died.

quietly, while the battle was raging around them, and jeongguk cried silently, without knowing that in the distance there were other people doing the same thing, including namjoon, who had been for years like a father to taehyung, and couldn't stand to lose him like that, along with hoseok and yoongi, who, respectively, sobbed and watched the scene, cheeks wet and burning eyes.

and so, on that cold night of february, the moon became silent viewer of the massacre, whose worst loss was without doubt the love of two boys, the victim of fate, as unpredictable as cruel.

a week later.

he looked in the mirror, fixing his tuxedo and the last buttons of his shirt, sticking his jacket and fixing his tie.

jeongguk sighed, passing his long finger over his eye bags, a memory from the previous heavy and tiring week.

he sighed, repeating an encouraging mantra in his head, hoping it would work.

« come one jeongguk, you can do this, you have to do it.»

then he came out, finding, parked over the gate, seokjin’s black car and the latter, which slightly waved at him, followed by jimin’s wide encouraging smile, the pink hair combed with gel.

« come on, gguk, we'll be late!»

seokjin started the car, not even waiting for the other to fasten his belt, heading to the cemetery.

he had the smart idea of putting on some music, distracting the younger from all the thoughts that were nagging him, making that journey unfairly carefree.

he parked silently in front of the dark gate, removing the keys from the car and getting out, followed by the pink one and at last by jeongguk, who, a little reluctantly, abandoned the tepor of the car to dive into the cold air of March, slipping his hands into the pockets and locking the car, reaching with a few falcats the entrance of the cemetery, observing the two colleagues who, having preceded him, were already halfway across the street confabiling each other.

he got lost looking at all the plates covered by ivy, climbing to the trees, without realizing he'd reached his destination.

to wake him from his thoughts, it was the sudden appearance of three other figures, as elegant as them, who were approaching him, the bandana replaced by a fancy hairstyles held in place with gel.

« thank you for coming.»

the tallest of the three, what jeongguk remembered being namjoon, gave him a brief look, full of meaning, before he joined seokjin and jimin, followed by the guy with mint hair, yoongi, and the one with red fire-locks, hoseok.

they sat there in silence waiting for the seventh component to arrive, which jeongguk found himself carrying, head in the line, gulping heavily as he tried to hold himself together until they reached the freshly made hole, in which the mahogany coffin would’ve been buried in a matter of minutes.

at that point, tightened in their suits, the six boys, too young to go through all that, melted into sobbing and crying, leaving jeongguk alone with his thoughts.

251228

the snow was gently falling on the rooftops of the city, decorated by coloured lights and christmas carols, who accompanied jeongguk, held tight in his black coat, to the place which he visited every christmas.

he kneeled next to the marmorean plate, cleaning it out of snow and laying a deck of black roses, the rarest ones he could find, and their favorite from day one.

he gulped, squeezing in his jumper.

« hi.»

jeongguk breathed in. it was always as hard as the first time.

« long time no see? i guess. i actually see you everyday, everywhere, everytime i close my eyes you’re there, smiling at me, teasing me, and more than everything, gasping for air between my arms.

jeongguk spoke up, voice getting louder by the seconds.

« jesus christ i fucking miss you alright? yeah you’d say, of course i do! of course you already know right? as if i hadn’t been telling you the same thing for over than eight year...funny. it’s just that...jeez it’s not easy to stop missing someone, and i just...i just can stop missing you, it’s feel like a crime to wake up and not think about you first as i wait before opening my eyes... oh baby i’m a wreck without you, can’t you see? i need you here to stay, i need you here again, and it hurts so fucking much sometimes i’d rather not wake up, even if it meant dreaming of your pale skin and blueish eyes. darling when i’m fast asleep i see this person watching me...saying, is it worthy? well damn i don’t know anymore. there is something and there is nothing in between and in my eyes i only see you, and everytime i try to embrace you you disappear and it’s getting so hard to bear--» he gasped for air, breathing in and out slowly to try and calm himself down.

« are you you enjoying yourself there right now? do you have a family? did you find someone to share your destiny with? i hope so, because, you see, I tried, I have a family now, of course, it's not like having you, but you have to settle sometimes, right?» he sighed, feeling stupid. « jesus....remember that promise we made ourselves? that we would walk together to the end, well, here I am, even if you can't answer me, I am here walking next to you... Merry Christmas taehyung, i...i love you, i still fucking love you so much and it’s killing me day by day.»

gulping, he rose up, dusting the snow from his knees and walking to the gate, tears prickling in his eyes and chest painfully rising up with every breath he took.

he started sobbing, hiding his face behind the sleeves of his coat as he walked away, unaware of a figure who had watched him from behind a tree the whole time, his translucent lips bent over a blurry smile, eyes full of imaginary tears of those who had never stopped dreaming, of those who had never stopped loving.

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nonbinarycrow · 4 years

Text

okay but for real. not to get up on my damn soapbox, but not all trauma is created equal and internet discourse is fucking missing that.

like, I'm a conversion therapy survivor. I'm also coming to terms with the fact that I'm an emotional abuse survivor. I have c-PTSD, I was nearly hospitalized in February, my life is permanently changed by my trauma and it's not ever going to go away because it was years upon years of utter hopelessness and despair. I'm missing years of my life to a broken memory. there's a damn good chance that I'll become an alcoholic if I don't watch my every fucking move. I deal with debilitating guilt and intrusive thoughts. I am literally *constantly* dissociating so that I won't feel anything. I'm only 21 years old.

most of y'all's trauma is actually trauma, so don't misread what I'm about to say here, but just because you went through trauma doesn't mean you have PTSD. in fact, most people who go through traumatic experiences will not develop PTSD. a statistic I've seen is that 50% of adults in the US will go through some kind of trauma. only 6.8% of those adults develop PTSD. and so much of any discourse on the internet is weaponizing trauma and universalizing the language that people going through PTSD use. no, you're not triggered by an argument. you're not having flashbacks. your impulses (like that eating a leaf post) are not intrusive thoughts. gaslighting is highly specific, and people can't gaslight you if there's not a personal relationship there. people do just lie, you know! just because someone was mean to you doesn't make it abuse. and by the way, you're still responsible for your actions, even if you have gone through trauma.

look. I'm not trying to be that mean, angry bitch here, but it's frustrating because nobody takes my experiences seriously because y'all won't stop to think about the words that you are using. my PTSD isn't just that I'm having trouble working through my trauma. it's a disability. it has changed the way my brain works, permanently. I literally can't visualize my memories anymore, and I know I used to be able to, because I used to be able to draw from memory so well that teachers would remark on it. I can't call up what my mom's face looks like, or my girlfriend's. I shut down to the point of being unable to move. I get random aches and pains, stomach problems, and have difficulty regulating my body temperature (all things that might be related to PTSD). that's not even talking about the emotional fallout and the big symptoms.

just consider the language you're choosing. this isn't the trauma olympics, and what you suffered was valid and awful, but y'all should be fucking grateful to have gone through something horrible and escaped without this. not to mention that none of you seem to know what trauma responses look like or that it's not a fucking cakewalk, it's ugly. we are often cruel. our lives are messy. we're not going to be this perfect fawn all the time, and it's not helping when people who don't have PTSD use the language we need.

in conclusion please reblog this and think about how you speak

#seriously it's good if you reblog #esp if you don't have ptsd #ptsd #cptsd #disability #disabled #tw flashbacks #tw abuse #tw conversion therapy #tw ptsd symptoms #tw ptsd #lesbian #ableism #saneism #ableist #triggered

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pessimistcameleon · 3 years

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To all the people that I knew.

I don't know where to start exactly, so I'll write instead an image that I got in my head today: I am literally torn to shreds. My muscle tissues are shreddy, there are missing parts that are covered by confettis and coriandolis, and as I walk they fall to the ground, I lean closer I see them laying on the cobble stones, just like on Carnival in my childhood.

Maybe I am exaggerating, but even if I am a ghost now (maybe I was always that), I feel an extreme aching in my physical body. Recently I started to hug myself and I feel my ribcage under my fingers and I kind of love them, but I am terrified at the same time, is an unknown sensation to me. I don't trust my own touch, and human touch just feels alien, if someone touches me I am alarmed and helpless, I don't know how to vocalize my fear of being touched. I allow only the hot showers to hug me instead, even if afterwards my skin turns red and itchy, because my skin "is so delicate".

A few days ago I looked into the mirror and what I saw was a stranger, a young woman that was unrecognizable who claimed to be me. I hated her. She cried and was pathetic, just like me. I wasn't able to empathize with her, because she was hiding away with her body the features that I've always known, I wasn't able to see the child. I became alarmed about my own inner child, did it even exist? Did I imagined it?

Since a while as I wake up everyday the only thing that befriends me and decides to stick with me as the day goes is anxiety. If I am lucky sometimes it goes to sleep and I become numb to my surroundings. I can assure you that it's not only the increased coffee quantity that I am consuming because of being constantly exhausted both physically and mentally. Things like going back to the shelter where I live now or just activities that include social interaction (which are essential otherwise I wouldn't be able to go forward with my day aka my survival) just trigger me, I detach from reality and I go to swim into dreadness.

Speaking about dreadness, I searched after grounding techniques but when any intense emotion or any form of dissociation kicks in I remind myself about staying grounded, but instead I'd let myself float away, because I am a masochist after all.

To be honest I am in a loop. I find myself constantly thinking about the past, because I am reminded about it by my surroundings but also because the past feels more secure and tangingle than my hollow present and non-existent future. I acknowledge the fact that the past has also painful traces in it, I already struggled during those times with mental health issues (I was especially minimizing my own concerns, as a result of my emotional responses I was considered over-dramatic), but I still had a sense of purpose, I was interested in many things and I was very hopeful about the person that I want to become. But the memories and any element connected to each one of them act as a stabbing knife, as a result I grieve myself even more. The events of my life seem like they belong to another person and not me.

Nowadays I dissociated myself from the person I was: I have no dreams and aspirations anymore, I isolated myself from everyone because is too much for both of me and the other person, and the situation I am in alienates me from every individual who has a stable background, has goals and human connections. I am unable to define myself on an individual level, I've come to the conclusion that I always identified myself with my own emotions and based my own self-knowledge on external information claiming that I am highly self-aware, which considered from my present perspective is funny, because beside the things that I've mentioned above seems like I have 0 personality traits, like I am the embodiment of a fluid presence with no defined characteristics.

I faded into nothingness and I am still pretending, in the presence of those who help me, to have the will to achieve my future goals (which as I said, now they don't exist, they just disintegrated) since "I am young and I can't waste my potential".

If I achieve something that is relevant to my survival all I feel is emptiness and suspicion. Very often I feel threatened by every act of kindness resulting into a hidden and more complex form of sabotage.

Not to mention my random attachment that I develop towards certain individuals that feel like an anchor right at the moment, and ironically I still find myself searching for clues that they'll give up on me soon. My so said strategy is to avoid attachment and antagonizing them in my mind.

I know that the reaction after this reading must be: pls, go and seek a therapist. I asssure you, I am already doing that.

I guess I am alive, but I am not present. So take this as an explanation for my recent absence and behavior maybe.

I don't know what was my goal with this post, but to the people who will see this: a part of me still misses you, but I am afraid that is already late for me to be human again.

#mentalhealth #bdp #actuallybdp #dissociation #depersonalization #derealization #anxiety #paranoia #mentalhealthstruggles #bdpproblems

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sam-winchesters-lost-shoe · 4 years

Text

Day 10: Sam x Ruby

Ship: Sam x Human!Ruby

Trope: One of them becomes human

Mood: Hurt/Comfort

Words: 1.7K

Sam didn’t know that Dean and Bobby had managed to track down Ruby. He had no idea that they had found a way to turn her human with consecrated blood, either.

When they led him to the panic room beneath Bobby’s house where they had been keeping her, Sam refused to go until he got to talk to her. Dean and Bobby eventually agreed, letting him go inside and closing the door behind them so they could talk.

Ruby was sitting on the small cot when he walked in, getting to her feet the moment she saw him.

“Sam, I’m so sorry.”

“For what? You’re.....you’re human now.” Sam shook his head. Ruby held his hand and looked up at him with a shake of her head.

“Sam.....I used to be human. I can handle it, but.....I can’t give you blood anymore.”

“It’s fine, we’ll figure something else out.” He replied simply, but he could tell something was wrong by the look on her face. When he turned back around, Dean’s eyes met his through the small opening in the door.

“Sorry, Sam. She told us everything. We’re not letting you out of this room until you’re clean. No more demon blood, man. This is for your own good.”

“Dean, no.” Sam begged as realization set in. He ran over and pounded his fist on the metal door, but Dean only mumbled that he was sorry and turned to go with Bobby.

Sam turned to go sit with Ruby, shoulders slumped as both of them realized how miserable the next few days were going to be.

—————

About 24 hours later, Sam was pacing the room. He had started to go into serious withdrawal at this point, and the side effects were starting. He was shaking and his heart was racing, and all he wanted to do was punch the wall until he could get out and find another demon he could drain.

Ruby had tried to keep him calm, urging him to sit down and take a few breaths, but he couldn’t sit still. She tried once again to get him to sit down before he passed out, since he’d been freaking out and almost hyperventilating for hours.

She finally managed to force him to sit long enough to drink some water and eat a granola bar, but she refused to let him get back up. She managed to eventually convince him to lay down, threading her fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

Luckily, it worked, and it didn’t take long for his feverish body to fall asleep.

————

Sam had been hallucinating for hours now. Ruby had been trying to cool him down by wetting a washcloth that Dean had provided, but he continued to sweat profusely and writhe around on the cheap mattress that seemed far too small for his frame.

He was mumbling nonsense, his eyes darting around beneath his eyelids. Ruby wasn’t sure why she was so scared for Sam in all honestly. Maybe it was that she was feeling actual emotions for the first time in......well, a really long time. She couldn’t believe it, but....she was actually kind of scared for him.

That was when another hallucination seemed to hit and Sam shot up off the bed. His eyes were bloodshot and wide open as he shakily clambered up.

“Sam. Sam, it’s just me!” Ruby tried to calm him down and got to her feet with her palms up defensively. His chest heaved as he looked around the room frantically. It was like he didn’t know where he was.

“Sam. Look at me.” Ruby continued and gently put a hand on his arm. He jumped and looked down at her, his eyes not exactly seeming to register that it was her. He put a hand on his chest like he couldn’t breathe, panicked eyes finally locking onto Ruby’s.

“Breathe.” She instructed calmly. She took a few deep breaths as if she was teaching him how, and Sam tried to copy her. He took a few shaky inhales and let it out, but it didn’t seem to be helping at all as he continued to panic.

“Sam, you have to calm down.” Ruby instructed. Her voice grew a bit firmer this time, and Sam did his best to steady his breathing, but nothing seemed to be working. His eyes glossed over and he seemed to almost dissociate with reality.

“Sam?”

Ruby tried calling his name, but he didn’t even notice. Sam’s eyes rolled back and his legs gave out beneath him. He fell to the ground and landed on his side, already beginning to seize.

“DEAN!” Ruby screamed. She had no idea what to do with the man spasming on the floor in front of her. She sank to her knees next to him and tried to use her hand to stop his head from hitting the concrete floor. Sam continued to seize, only the whites of his eyes visible beneath his fluttering eyelids.

“DEAN!”

Two sets of footsteps thundered down the stairs and to the door. There was a mumbled “shit” and the metal door swung open quickly. Dean was beside them a moment later with Bobby at his shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” Dean demanded. As he forced Sam onto his back. The younger man’s legs continued to kick and twitch, his hair falling haphazardly onto his face with each spasm.

“I.....I don’t know....” Ruby shook her head. Dean undid his belt and looped it in his hands before fitting it in Sam’s mouth to keep him from biting his tongue.

Bobby mentioned something about tying him down, but both Ruby and Dean were too focused on Sam to really make out what he was saying. Seizures were terrifying enough when they happened normally, but one that was a side-effect of demon blood withdrawal was uncharted territory. There were a few moments where all three of them could hardly hold him down, and it only panicked them more.

Eventually Bobby got the two of them to snap out of the worries and help him get Sam onto the cot. They managed to do it, hauling him over carefully before strapping him down. His seizing had begun to calm down at this point, but Dean was still panicking inside. The only outlet he had for his emotions was Ruby, who was watching Sam just as intently as she was.

He turned and grabbed her by the front of the shirt, slamming her against the wall behind them. Her head snapped back and cracked against the metal, and she wasn’t expecting it to hurt that much. She wasn’t expecting it to hurt at all, actually, after being a demon for so long.

“This is all your fault!” Dean spat in her face. “I should kill you right here and now.”

He dug out a blade from his pocket before holding it against her throat menacingly.

“Dean, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would happen to him.” Ruby started, only to be cut off by Dean again.

“That’s bullshit! You’re the one that did this to him, now you tell us how to fix it!”

“There isn’t exactly a handbook on demon blood junkies, Dean! I don’t want this any more than you do!”

Ruby was sure that he was going to kill her then and there. He raised the knife as if he was going to drive it into her chest when there was a pained groan from behind them.

“Sam...” Ruby mumbled. Her heart ached as she watched him over Dean’s shoulder. The spams has finally stopped, but now it seemed like he was having another nightmare.

“Dean, let me help him...”

The older brother thought for a second before grunting and letting her go. He looked over at Sam on the mattress while Ruby went to wet another cloth and resume her pattern of attempting to cool his forehead. Dean and Bobby watched her work, seeing how Sam actually did seem to relax a bit under her touch. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and removed the leather belt from his mouth before handing it back to Dean. She then sat back down and resumed her work with the washcloth, completely ignoring the looks from the other two men in the room.

Dean took the belt back silently and took a step towards his brother. Sam was still feverish and sweaty, tending his fist inside the restraints every once in a while, but when he did Ruby would put a hand on his cheek and he would seem to calm down again. Dean kneeled on the opposite side of the cot that ruby was on, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder before addressing her.

“Listen, I just......i don’t understand. Why do you care? I mean......you were a fricking demon, Ruby. Why are you taking care of him?”

She frowned and paused, holding the washcloth above the bucket and avoiding eye contact as she thought about her answer.

“I.......I guess I feel guilty. I don’t know, I haven’t felt anything in a long time, but.....you’re right. This is my fault, and I feel bad about it.”

She resumed the action of dipping the cloth into the bucket and then wringing it out while Dean got to his feet. He didn’t say anything after that, just walked over to the door with Bobby with tired eyes. They slowly left when they were sure Sam was okay for now, closing the door behind them and trudging upstairs.

She would never tell both of them that part of the reason she cared so much was the warmth in her chest when she was around Sam. She might’ve been doing everything for her own personal gain, and to break the final seal, but now that she had actually gotten to know Sam she regretted it all.

She loved him.

She just hadn’t realized it until she became human. When she was actually able to have feelings, and that voice in the back of her head that was constantly telling her to hurt people had finally gone quiet.

She huffed a quiet sigh and continued wiping Sam down with the cool water, pausing every now and then to press a kiss against his forehead.

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roseamongroses · 4 years

Text

W.A.L: “It’s A Long Way Down To the Bottom of the River” (26)

s u m m a r y

Eden was the lowest of the low, a monster, hardly human, and was set to be executed. Roman was on trial, perpetually stuck in time until it was time to atone for his families sins.Neither cared much for staying trapped.So when a Stranger offered freedom, offered peace, offered power, it was hard to say no.Even if it put them on the wrong side of history.

v i b e s

time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods

w a r n i n g s

Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries, Mentions of past Death, repression, cursing, some dissociation

c h a r a c t e r s

Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani, Elliot, Kai, Lauren, Dot

Ship: Roceit

1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

(12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

---

Ms. Drak’on didn’t bother to look up once Logan had entered her office, her massive tail curled in her lap as she tapped away at her computer.

She was busy, always busy and today she was dealing with the mass freeing of the Sanders and all associated parties. For a curse that exhaustive it wasn’t just a matter of freeing them, but it was a matter of arranging new housing, placing younger children under adoptive care, and arranging for funeral services and preservation efforts for any humans or elders caught in the mix.

Overall the whole ordeal was incredibly profitable despite being horrendously irritating. And while being around so many humans was disturbing, it was ultimately for the best. The Council was this world's new future whether the magic-folk liked it or not and Annaliese would be damned if she let her folk be thrown to the wayside like so many others.

Her initial plan was to be a part of the Sanders, seeing as they were a powerhouse among the folk and everyone knew the Council had an eye on them. It took decades just for her to convince her family to arrange the marriage between her and the Sanders, and many years later for them to forgive her for that failure of an investment. Still, she found away, and when that way fell apart she’d find another and another.

Logan cleared his throat, once then twice, and Annaliese looked up, “Yes?” she said, her long claws tapping impatiently, “Is this related to your studies or the coronation?”

“Uh,” Logan frowned, “No ma’am.”

Annaliese scowled, “Then what is it?”

“I was talking with Patton and Virgil--” Annaliese made a face. She thought he would’ve gotten over them once they had left for the colonies. Logan continued, “And they mentioned that there was a series of break-ins at The Colonies.”

“And?”

“And… I thought it would a good idea for us to investigate,” He reasoned, “Large amounts of their discarded magical waste had been taken before it was properly deactivated and the only person known to experiment with that is The Stranger so I though-”

“Logan,” She cut him off with a sharp smile, “I admire your dedication,”

Logan blinked startled, “Uh, thank you ma’am,”

“You’re welcome,” Ms. Drak’on’s smile stayed unnervingly in place, “So when I say leave it alone, I’m not trying to discourage you--In fact, I say this as a way to encourage you to keep focus,”

“But nearly a thousand ounces of magical residue went missing that’s enough to--”

“Blow up a small nation, yes, yes I’m aware,” She finished, “Someone else will handle it. I’ll arrange for it personally in fact,” she promised, “But you are going to be the heir of the most powerful folk-family. You need to stop worrying about your friends, stop worrying about some no-name shifter and his joke of a mentor, and start thinking about your own future,” Logan still looked unpleased, “Do you really care about this magical residue or do you just want a rematch.”

“I…” Logan swallowed, “There’s going to be backlash…”

“And? They can have their opinions, it won’t change paperwork, ” Annaliese snapped, “You let them and their little prank under your skin once, but I won’t let it happen again,” she pointed at a singular talon at Logan, “You want to be heir, correct?”

Logan’s face hardened, “Yes.”

“In a couple of months you will be,” She said, “So leave it be, unless you’d rather me pick another heir? You have plenty of cousins who would gladly step up,” Logan flinched and at that, she hummed, “So you’ll leave it be?”

“I’ll…” Logan sighed, “I’ll leave it be,”

---

“It looks pretty, Sof,” Roman said, hands curling around the torn up leaves of the flowers she picked.

Sofia batted his hands away from her arrangement on the table, “No it isn’t, it’s ugly and stupid,” she huffed as she picked at the flowers, “Marisol would’ve made them pretty,”

“Marisol isn’t here,” Viviane said, readjusting her flower crown with a careless delight, “Momma said she’s still sleeping,”

“I know that,” Sofia grumbled, though she started messing with her flowers more .

“Sofia?”

Her face scrunched and she ignored Roman.

Roman sighed, knowing that at any second she’d get frustrated and either cry or scream. Probably both. He bit his lip, “Sofia, can you do me a big favor?”

At that she looked up, still scowling and eyes watery, “What?”

“Can you help Ma in the garden?” Roman suggested, pointing out the screen door, “Tami can’t be alone in the house, but Ma’s going to need a lot of help,”

Before Sofia could answer Viviane butted in, “Oh Sofia can’t help, she’d get dirty,”

Sofia’s eyes snapped up full of some equivalent to fury, “Yes I can!”

“No, you can’t!” Viviane stuck her nose up, pointing to herself, “But I can,”

It didn’t take long for that disaster of an argument to spill outside, startling Ma and a dozing Marie. Once they were out of sight, Roman took a cursory glance at the flowers on the table, before oh so innocently dragging a hand over the stems.

It was a bit harder since the flower's roots had long since been ripped off, but that just meant he had to give them a new root system. It didn’t take long after that for dingy petals to brighten into delicate pinks and yellows and for the torn, leaves to wilt and be replaced with stronger, healthier greens.

While he was finishing up, Lauren walked in, looking sweaty--hair tied in a high ponytail as she guzzled down water. She raised an eyebrow, “You’re spoiling them,” she accused.

“I can get you flowers too if you’re jealous,” Roman mocked.

Laruen’s eyes narrowed, “I can pick my own,” she scoffed, though her gaze still lingered on the petals, “Maybe you should take some out for your boy~friend, he’s been mean all day,”

“I mean…” Roman shrugged, “I’d be pissy too if I had to babysit y’all instead of, y’know, kissing me.”

Lauren sighed, turning on her heel, “Leaving now,”

“Love ya too,” Roman said dusting off his hands. He breezed through the living room passing the slumped, heaving forms of Kai and Elliot. He poked his head out of the front door, easily finding Janus in the midst of doing cool-down stretches.

Roman closed the door behind them, a smile creeping on his face, “Darling?” Janus paused mid-stretch but didn’t look up, even as Roman crouched behind them, hugging them from behind. Roman pursed his lips, resting his head on their shoulder, “Janus, you’re ignoring me,” he whined.

“Am I?”

“Yes, yes you are,” Roman said,” Any reason why?”

Janus stiffened, not immediately responding so Roman waited. After a while he finished his stretch, leaning into Roman, “I’m... tired. Just gotta get used to the new training regiment that’s all,”

Roman frowned at that, “Anything I can do?”

“I stink, so a bath would be nice,” Janus sighed.

Roman hummed in agreement, “Can I join?”

“Now,” Janus said, pushing Roman’s face away,

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Roman laughed, giving Janus a little squeeze before standing up, “I’ll run it in a few minutes, try not to stay out here for too long,” He squinted at the setting sun, “It's getting late,”

Janus sighed, “I won’t be long,”

—--

His eyes were burning long after The Stranger gave him another vial. It wasn’t warm, it wasn’t inviting, but it clawed into him deep, stoking an internal itch Deceit never knew he had. On one hand, he could feel himself getting stronger, on the other hand he knew that he had to stay vigilant, lest he lose control.

It wouldn’t be like the first time.

Eden and him had taken the vials at the same time, but it hit Eden much harder. He was human, after all. One moment they were laughing. The next moment, well… Janus couldn’t tell you for sure what happened. But he knew something changed when the light jabs became shoves, and the words spilling were no longer loving.

Janus had always admired Eden, so of course, it hurt, but if it had just been about Janus well… maybe they would’ve all went to church that day. But Virgil was Janus’s responsibility and Eden… was replaceable. Eden was loved, he was cherished by his family, but at the end of the day he was just as disposable as Janus.

The only difference was that they at least searched for Eden, even if they didn’t really find him. They mourned for Virgil, they were furious at Eden, but never said a word about Janus.

Janus, Eden, Deceit, Janus. It was a mantra he cycled through constantly, but it was especially dizzying when he was alone with himself. One face wasn’t his own, but it was better than nothing. One embraced his nothingness with an obnoxious flair. And one… was nothing, but Roman said it like it meant something. And the more they said it, the more Janus found himself unwilling to hate it completely.

Janus dunked his head in the bath, not rising again until the stink of memories were drowned by his desperate need for air. Then he scrubbed himself as raw as his lungs were, ignoring how his body ached and not lingering on his scales or the irritated and inflamed scars, but instead focussing on his need to be clean.

Once he was done with that, he untied his hair. It had grown back long, but since Deceit tended to just shift to fix his hair it had gotten tangled and matted. After the temptation to rip his hair out of his skull intensified, he dragged himself out of the tub. Throwing on pants, he trudged back into the room--immediately rummaging through the dresser drawers.

Roman, who was hanging off the bed upside down, sat up, “Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“Scissors,” Janus grumbled, “Or a knife, anything sharp--” He frowned, finding nothing but books and clothes.

“Why would you…” Roman trailed off, “Weren’t you going to try to actually take care of your hair?”

“I did try-- it was taking too long,” Janus said, looking up when Roman sighed, “What?”

“Come here, you big baby,” Roman said, leaving no room for complaint as he pulled out a wider-tooth comb from the side-drawer. Janus complied, flopping on his stomach and burying his head in Roman’s lap.

Roman hummed, fingers kneading their scalp gently, causing Janus to tense, before relaxing, “Long day?”

Janus groaned, voice muffled, “I hate everything,”

Roman had started sectioning Janus’s hair, “I don’t think you hate everything,”

“I hate most things,”

“Eh,”

“...I don’t hate you?”

Roman didn’t say anything to that, starting to pull the comb through Janus’s tangled ends and methodically working his way up. Janus lost himself in the sensation, not quite feeling the pit in his stomach go away, but instead feeling like he had more space to breathe.

At some point Janus had drifted off, only stirring when Roman stopped combing, slowly just rubbing circles in Janus’s scalp. Janus propped his head up on Roman’s lap, vaguely registering that Roman had stole another one of his shirts, “What time is it?”

“Ready to leave me so soon?”

“Mmm…” Janus wrapped an arm around their waist, playing with ends of the shirt, “Not quite,”

“Go--ood,” Roman stuttered, eyes closing as Janus pressed feather-light kisses along their thigh, hand drifting up their shirt, “Aren’t you still tired?”

“A little…” Janus mumbled with a frown, “But with this new schedule I won’t be able to see you as often,” Roman’s face fell, “But... I’m here now,”

“I guess you are…but--” Roman inhaled sharply as Janus’s fangs flashed, “Janus…” Roman squirmed as they sucked at the sensitive skin there.

“Huh, I thought you were fucking with me, but, “ Janus smiled, deliberately twirling a vine creeping over Roman’s hip, “You really do like them?”

“Shut up,” Roman whined into his hands, “Of course I like them,”

Janus paused at that, sitting up, “So if I grew a tail and started craving human flesh?”

Roman snorted, “Babe, I had a tail when I was younger,” Janus shot him a curious look, “It fell off--” he explain shortly, “But the point is I’m not even human, you don’t scare me,” he pushed aside his braids, leaning back against the headboard, “In fact, if you hadn’t noticed I find you very attractive,”

“You find Eden very attractive,”

“Yes, I am a fan,” Roman admitted rolling his eyes, “But I guarantee that you can pick any face you want- even your own, and I’d still be just as eager. And… you wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“We’re partners--” Roman squeaked, cupping Janus’s face, his sappy smile beaming into the kiss.

“Is it later yet?” Janus murmured, feeling how Roman’s skin was getting hotter and hotter, “Cause I really would like to have that talk now--”

There was a knock and they both froze.

Roman was the first to speak, “It's locked--they’ll go away soon,”

Janus frowned at that, “Are you sure it’s the triplets?”

Roman paused for entirely too long with a look entirely too pissy and Janus rolled off the bed despite their protests. Janus wasn’t surprised to see The Stranger when he opened the door, but The Stranger seemed pretty surprised.

The Stranger’s mouth opened, then closed, “Busy?”

Janus scowled, “I’ll be out in a minute,” and he shut the door promptly. He winced upon seeing just how pleased Roman was, “Sorry...”

“Don’t apologize… just,” Roman’s gaze flickered to the door, “Be safe.”

---

Deceit had the decency to feel somewhat guilty when The Stranger handed him another vial. It’s just that it was hard to pinpoint any feelings after they handed him another, and another, and another. It was hard to even remember his name and it wasn’t like The Stranger was inclined to remind him.

Blood soaked and vaguely human-shaped, Deceit stumbled up as the snake-like creature slithered towards him again, fangs bared.

He didn’t have to turn around to see The Stranger’s displeased expression. This what...the 45th? 67th? time that Deceit was attempting this shift, whilst trying to avoid the creature -- the pitch blackness of the sky had long since softened into mocking pinks and swirling purples.

The snake lunged and for a dizzying second, Deceit didn’t even feel as their fangs sank into his skin again, tearing at the flesh. He dropped to his knees, fruitlessly clawing at the beast, feeling his shift sharpen and humanity slick away piece by piece.

The Stranger tossed his drink, the cup disappearing, “Alright, enough,” and like that the creature was gone.

Deceit shuddered, hands still grasping as if he could still feel the creature’s grip around his throat, “Was it...was it good enough?”

The Stranger inclined his head, lowering his glasses to observe the glistening, gold scales dripping from Deceit’s lower half, still radiating the same manic energy the snake had, “No, but it's a start,” he said, pushing his glasses up, “You’re too attached,”

Deceit swallowed, “Attached? Attached to what?”

“To your identity,” The Stranger drawled, “Forget it. It's useless anyway,” his spiked boots kicked up the dirt.

“Identity?” Deceit’s laugh was a choked, guttural thing that caused the pain in his shoulder to flare up,” I don’t have an identity, I’m nothing, remember?”

The Stranger didn’t say anything, an uncomfortable silence stretching, “Same time tomorrow,” he finally said, turning on his heel, “Don’t be late this time,”

When Deceit returned to the house, Lauren took one good look at him before bullying him into getting cleaned up and getting stitches. Deceit let her babble about some T.V show wash over him before he dragged himself to bed.

The next night, it was some underground creature that only appeared when provoked and apparently when you provoked one, the entire nest appeared. It had taken so long to even get a glimpse of them and even longer to shake them all off so by the time he got back to the house it was already mid-day. After Kai stopped yelling at him for missing the sparring sessions they shoved a plate of food in his direction and chucked a water bottle at his head.

On the days that he was nonverbal, they switched to signing without further questioning after Elliot’s telepathy proved to be too overwhelming after a night trapped in a cave with a sound-based creature.

And every day, whenever he could--- he calmed down an upset Roman, letting them check over each new scar and relentlessly curse The Stranger’s name in a surprising amount of languages until they were content that he was in one piece.

Only then did he tell Janus about his day, telling him about the fort the triplets were building outside, about the new book he’s reading, or how he was going to start taking care of Tami and them more often since his mom had finally gotten the paperwork she needed to start working again.

It was odd floating between those moments of normalcy and chaos, but it was odder when they overlapped. Tonight it was less of a creature and more of a gelatin mass that seeped acid.

Deceit wasn’t allowed to attack it back, not unless he replicated it perfectly, but as he was letting that acid bastard swallow him all he could think about was yesterday night.

Roman had just finished Tami’s very specific bedtime routine when he had walked into the room doe eyed and really quiet. After a few attempts at prodding, they quietly admitted that they might want kids when he got older. Which wasn’t surprising, but what did throw Deceit off guard was the fact that they asked for his opinion on the matter. As if Deceit had a future beyond this--and if he did how much of it would be dedicated to being The Stranger’s experiment?

He hadn’t even noticed that the creature was gone until The Stranger snapped in front of his face, annoyed. Deceit staggered up, “Sorry--are we done?”

“Sure, this isn’t working anyway,” The Stranger said cooly and Deceit tensed, “You’re still distracted, you’re still attached,”

“I…” Deceit frowned, “I don’t understand,”

“Of course you don’t,” The Stranger scoffed, “You’re lucky you’re not a complete waste of time or I wouldn’t even bother trying at this point,” he the lollipop cracked in his mouth, “Don’t bother coming back tomorrow,”

Both relief and terror pooled into Deceit’s gut, “What?”

“Don’t get so worked up--” The Stranger scolded, “You get the next three days off and , after that we’re going on a little trip. If it goes as planned, we’ll have everything we ever wanted,”

“And...if it doesn’t go as planned?”

“Well, I'll take a break somewhere blisteringly hot and then try again in the next hundred years,” The Stranger shrugged.

Deceit didn’t have to ask to figure out what would happen to him.

#ts sides #roceit #ts roman #ts deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #Winners Among the Losing

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pom-seedss · 4 years

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Ah ha ha.

Last night was fun. I have been having pain in my hips and because I am always uncertain of my own experiences I decided that “well maybe doing a small bit of slow exercise will help, as I have been told by so many doctors and layfolk alike”. I decided I was not strong enough to use the eliptical runner because it has an automatic 10 degree incline and I just wasn’t up for that. So I thought, the rowing machine! It was easy on the legs, but also gets them moving and my arms could handle the work.

Literally as soon as I sat down either my leg subluxed its way out of my hip or my muscles just decided to seize up so completely that the only reason I didn’t scream in pain loud enough to wake the neighbours is my lifelong training of surpressing my reaction to pain and other bad stuff.

I couldn’t move to get up without another spike in the pain, I couldn’t even roll off of the rower without feeling like I was rending my leg right off, which of course traveled up my spine and into my guts. Oh it was painful just sitting there on the rower, but if I balanced right and I held my breath I could control my body enough to not have the shocking all encompassing pain.

So there I sat for I don’t know how long until I gained enough composure to tear myself out of the spot.

I grabbed on to my punching bag because my hip wouldn��t hold me, and I had to painfully roll my leg and hips until I could move them enough to walk.

It is a toxic combination having grown up with folks who taught me to suppress and hide my pain to the point where my pain tolerance is staggering... and having pain management doctors berate me for not moving when I am in pain. I even try to tell them “well not all pain” because the quality of the pain matters almost more than the intensity of the pain in terms of what you can/should push through.

But they only have one scale to rate it on. Does pain mean stop? Yes. No.

So I have been constantly told, by people who are supposed to help me manage my pain, that I am supposed to dissociate through it and do things anyway. That I shouldn’t listen to my body. That recovery hurts.

I try to tell them I know what good pain feels like. I have had the ache of healing, of growing stronger, that I have been doing sports my whole life and understand that workouts are hard but some pain doesn’t mean you stop immediately.

But electric pain means nerves, certain stabbing pains means the muscle is already taxed to its limit, nausea and wanting to throw up from the pain is the body forcing you to stop and lay still at least until the world stops spinning around you.

They never trust that I know what I am talking about, that I’ve lived in my body for thirty two years and know what signals it sends. They insist I push through the pain anyway.

So. I. Do.

Because they are the Doctors. They know best. And they don’t believe in anything but Advil, really, because most pain is just inflammation, don’t you know.

I can’t trust my own experiences, my own body.

And they wonder why my PTSD is acting up on top of everything else. Or they would if they hadn’t given up dealing with that side of things because it is too hard and probably the only source of my pain anyway.

So things like last night happen.

Because I have been taught that I can’t trust my own experiences. My own sensations. My own body.

Here is the biggest kicker. This *will* happen again.

Maybe not my hip, maybe my elbow, or my shoulder, or my ribs. But I will overexert myself despite my best efforts despite my better judgement because I have been conditioned not to trust my body.

I will resist it, but because of the continued pressure and lack of support I know that I will periodically relapse into these behaviours. And I just.... I am so scared of how badly I may damage myself this time, next time, time after that. There is only so much a body can take and I am just scared. Anxiety amplifies it, of course it does, but the core is just looking at the possibilities and knowing they exist. And that is scary my friends.

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