#but minus the horrible anxiety i had at the time

[lestantique]

[wolveria]

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 40

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

CHAPTER WARNINGS (Rated E): Explicit sexual content, monster fucking, nonhuman anatomy, non/dubcon (more on the side of dubcon), intense but brief anxiety, hurt/comfort

Chapter Summary: “Is there any other way?”

AO3

It felt like the last day of your life.

You didn’t move from the bed for some time. Waking up within the warm circle of 049’s arms, your cheek resting against his chest, was something you never thought you would have. It also came at great cost, and you would pay it soon.

But when? When would the deed need to be carried out? Were you supposed to start immediately? Wait for instruction? It was a horrible thought, but you wished Leahy had been clearer about what exactly he wanted. It was the gaps of knowledge, the unknown parts you were supposed to guess at, that left you frozen with indecision.

049 didn’t rouse you, though he must have known you were awake. He didn’t speak, and you didn’t either. There wasn’t much left to say, but it seemed there should be. You weren’t going anywhere, so why did it feel like you were supposed to say goodbye? Express regrets and wish for things you could have done differently. It felt closer to mourning than it did waiting for an execution.

049 only stirred when the food slot opened, delivering breakfast. He carefully ran his gloved fingers along the back of your hair, his breath tickling the crown of your head.

“You should eat,” he said softly.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I assumed as much.”

You curled closer, seeking out his comfort, and then you stiffened. You sat up quickly, letting his arm fall away from your shoulders. You didn’t want him to think—you just wanted closeness, not…

With a bitter glance at the camera, you moved down to the foot of the bed and got out. The bed itself had one side pushed against the wall about midway up the room. The bookshelf was at its head, and beyond that, the desk and bathroom area. But towards the foot of the bed, in the back corner, sat the camera. It would give a perfect view of… of…

You retrieved the food tray and laid it out on the counter, leaving plenty for 049 to partake, though most days he didn’t. You forced yourself to nibble as much as you could, your stomach too much a knot to allow more than a few pieces of fruit and half a bagel. It was an unfortunate side effect of your anxiety. When you needed energy the most, that’s when your body refused to have an appetite.

049 didn’t comment on your sudden departure, and the air in the chamber was somber. That’s what it felt like, the both of you preparing for a funeral. It almost made you break the silence just to say something, even if it was mundane small talk. You wanted to ask about the medical files, or his journal, or anything at all. Something to fill the space with more than just heavy waiting.

The silence stretched on, though really it was more accurate to call it white noise. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights, the dull rumble of the air conditioner. It was the ordinary ambience of an office space minus the water cooler chatter. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine you were back at your old office, ignorant to a world that made little sense and held even less compassion.

Your period of waiting was interrupted by a click of the intercom. You flinched upright on a lab stool, like a rabbit hearing a gunshot in the woods, ears perked and legs tensed to leap. You’d been staring vacantly at the medical files, not reading the words or seeing the faces, and now your full attention was on the speaker in the ceiling.

“Tonight.”

That’s all they said. You couldn’t tell who the voice belonged to—not the Site Director, but the order clearly came from him.

Tonight. It had to be done tonight.

“What time is it?”

049 had been at his desk in the inner chamber, but he stood at the threshold between the chambers now.

“Ten twenty-five, AM.”

You didn’t doubt his innate ability to sense time. He was never wrong. Your stomach roiled but you kept down your meager breakfast.

The day passed with a vicious graduality. You wished they had given a specific time. Or given no time at all. It was as if this whole project was designed to break your mind as well as shred what was left of your dignity.

At some point, you put your head down on the counter, hunched over on your stool, reports forgotten. The darkness under your crossed arms was a respite from the constant fluorescent lights, a shield from the observation window. Let them see you defeated. There was something freeing about having nothing left to hide.

Time passed in a restless haze between dozing and spacing out. Two meal deliveries signaled the passing of the day, and you ignored them. 049 didn’t attempt to speak to you, perhaps knowing this quiet deprivation was what you needed. He had always been perceptive that way.

You didn’t focus on anything at all until a gentle touch grazed your arm. You didn’t flinch. There was only one person who would touch you that way, and you wouldn’t retreat from him.

“Doctor?”

You raised your head, blinking at the bright lights and bending your back to sort out the kinks. You looked over your shoulder, but 049 didn’t speak immediately. He simply studied your face, his eyes soft with concern.

“What time is it?” you asked. What else was there to track but the time?

“Ten minutes after seven.”

“Mmm. When does the sun set?”

“Half past the hour.”

Punctual as ever, your masked physician. You gave a small smile, but it felt empty. It faded as you looked past him to the open door of the inner containment chamber where you spied the bed and its innocuous dressings.

You turned back to the counter and braced your hands against it to push yourself up. No point in delaying. Sunset was the best indicator of night, and it was better to get it done and over with.

Maybe… maybe it would be easier after the first time.

You didn’t know how you managed to make it into the inner room without stumbling. Your knees were shaking, your calves constructed of gelatin, and your lungs pulled for air.

You walked toward the bed, and then past it. You turned around and walked the other way. You paced, back and forth, your breathing becoming more erratic, spots dancing in your vision.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do thisyoucouldntdothisyoucou—

Something broad and dark blocked your way. Gentle hands held your shoulders in place, and 049 said, “Breathe.”

You tried to obey, but your lungs wouldn’t cooperate.

“Slowly. In… and out. As I’m doing.”

You copied his breaths, slow and steady. In for several seconds, hold, then slowly out. Repeat. Focus on his breathing and nothing else.

When your body wasn’t wound as tight as a coil, you swallowed compulsively and chanced a look. 049 met your gaze steadily. There was no fear or anger there, just the weight of his worry.

You pressed your lips together to keep them from trembling, and your voice came out a whisper.

“Is there any other way?”

It felt childish to seek comfort in this moment, but you were weak. Too weak to find a way out of this, too weak to prevent this from happening. Too weak to face this alone.

His hand cupped the side of your jaw.

“If there is, I do not see it.”

Your head dipped in agreement. This was it, then.

049 pulled you into his arms, and he held you carefully but warmly. Always so warmly.

“This isn’t the end,” he said low in your ear. “We do as they command, we survive another day on their terms, but it will not always be this way. And there are things not even they can take.”

When you pulled back there was certainty in his eyes, along with something else. An intensity buried within that stirred something inside you, and this time, you didn’t stifle it.

“Okay,” was all you said. You took his hand and led him to the bed.

You let go when you got under the covers and made room for him. You pulled off your leggings and underwear, keeping the white smock on. Fuck whoever was watching, you weren’t giving them more of a show than you had to.

049 joined you under the covers more slowly, his movements careful as he laid down. He didn’t touch you, and it took a moment to remember what he’d said before. In this area, you had more knowledge than he did, or at least more practical experience. You would have to lead.

“Do you need to get undressed?” you asked, not sure how this was supposed to work with his robes also acting as skin.

“No. This will be sufficient.”

He was on his side facing you, but he seemed indecisive. Out of his element.

You gave him a small smile only he could see and took his arm, gently tugging it toward you.

“Come here.”

He obeyed, but his movements were still cautious, testing the waters. You continued to pull, indicating you wanted him to lie on top of you, and his eyes focused on your face, uncertain.

That trepidation vanished as soon as his weight settled on you, his hips nestled between your legs. You moved them apart, making room for him. His gaze darkened and his hands curled into the sheets on either side of your shoulders.

Your smock was caught between your legs, putting a barrier between you, and you pulled it up to your stomach. 049 closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath as your bare skin pressed against his robes.

The intercom clicked on.

“No covers.”

049’s eyes flew open, a soft growl escaping as he reached behind him to throw off the blankets from the bed. He muttered a heated, “Va te faire enculer,” in the direction of the camera.

You had no idea what he said, but you certainly liked the way the crude French rolled off his tongue.

“My… apologies,” he said, turning back to you. “I should not have lost my composure.”

You bit your tongue to keep from telling him losing his composure was necessary for what you were about to do. He would learn that soon enough.

“It’s fine.” Your voice was gravel. You cleared it. “Are you ready?”

His gaze softened, and oh, it had a dangerous affect at close distance.

“I am. Are you?”

You nodded and winced at the clinical nature of it, but that was probably the best approach. Have sex only long enough for 049 to orgasm, and then it could be done with.

Except you couldn’t stop trembling. It was equal parts anticipation and nerves. If you’d had sex semi-recently (how long had it been?), perhaps this would have been much easier. You could treat it as a chore, an item to check off your duties for the day. Or more accurately, something you had to do under threat of further torture and humiliation.

Except your body wasn’t responding as if it was under duress. The tension that had been growing each day you spent with 049 was building to a point of unbearable pressure. Your cheeks were hot, skin tingling in all the places you touched, and you could only guess what your expression looked like. With the way 049’s gaze roamed your face, taking in every detail, you were more exposed than your half-nakedness.

What did it matter how clinical you were? You ached to touch him, to be touched, and you refused to allow 049’s first moments of intimacy be cold and distant.

You hooked your arms under his shoulders, splaying your hands across his back and gently pulled him down until his chest was against yours. 049 gave a shudder when more of his weight rested on you, his breathing slightly off-rhythm.

That’s it, you thought, rubbing your hands across the back of his shoulders. Just relax.

His face pressed against the side of your cheek, the curve of his beak against your jaw, and you automatically opened your legs wider. Your heart was hammering, and the trembling was there but not as harsh. Your own body relaxed under his weight, yearning for his hands on you, but he kept them dutifully gripped into the bed sheet.

Something warm and heavy pressed against your hip. You frowned, confused as to what it was, and then understanding hit you when you shifted against it and 049 released another halting breath.

You tilted your hips up in silent permission, keeping your lips firmly closed, not knowing what sounds you would make if you opened your mouth. You wanted to take him into your hands, discover the shape of him, get him to make more of those noises that he was keeping trapped in his throat.

But you kept your hands on his back, and 049 adjusted himself, moving one arm between you. He grabbed himself to line up with your entrance, but he hesitated, even now with his eyes dark and his voice a rasp.

“Are you sure?”

You made a kind of strangled noise and nodded.

His eyes grew darker, a new hunger in their depths, and he lined up with you, the head of his cock pushing against your folds. You drew in a sharp breath. The shape was different, the head tapered, and it pressed against your entrance.

The head slipped inside with some resistance, and that’s where he couldn’t go any further. He was wider past the head, larger than a human, and you weren’t nearly wet enough yet.

“Keep going,” you grit out. You kept your face as blank as possible, but something of your pain must have shown through.

“I have- in my satchel, there are bottles. Lubricants I can retrieve—”

“No.” You gripped his arm. “No, don’t leave.”

If he left now, you’d lose your nerve. You couldn’t start this over again. You couldn’t.

“Stay,” you repeated, your voice shaking as if you were on the verge of crying. Because you were. “Please.”

He released himself, settling his weigh again as he cupped his other hand against your hair.

“I will not hurt you.”

You wanted to say he wouldn’t, or if he did, you could take it—you’d endured far worse. But you remained quiet, distracted by his thumb stroking your hair. His gaze was thoughtful, slightly off focus.

“There are… other methods I can employ to make the process smoother.”

“Okay.” You would agree to nearly anything at this point, just as long as he didn’t leave. “Whatever you want.”

Your nerves were frayed, the trembling was getting noticeable again, and you regretted not eating anything all day. You waited, not sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t for 049 to bring his hand towards your face. He hesitated, his thumb tracing the outline of your jaw. You searched his face questioningly, and he took a breath.

“Since I cannot do it myself, I will need you to coat my fingers with your saliva.”

Oh. Oh.

You swallowed and nodded. For having all the experience, you were the one slow to catch up, but your apprehension melted when his fingers touched your lips. The tip of your tongue tasted him without thinking.

His eyes grew sharp as he pressed his fingers past your lips into your mouth. You welcomed the intrusion, sucking the digits automatically, tasting the strange, living leather.

The pads of his fingers pressed down on your tongue. He probably wouldn’t need to do anything more than that to get you ready, but you weren’t going to stop him. Heat pooled low in your gut, fueled by his single-minded focus on your mouth.

There was no true reason for you to swirl your tongue around his fingers or to suck them down nearly to the last knuckle. No rationale behind it, yet you did it, imagining another part of him heavy and full in your mouth. 049 sucked in a breath and shifted his weight. The warmth of his cock against your leg along with the pressure in your mouth had you salivating. By the time he removed his fingers with a wet pop, they were slick with your spit.

049’s hand slipped between you again, touching your inner thigh. His fingers trailed upwards, dipping between your folds, and his fingers pressed against your clit.

Unlike when he joined you in bed, filled with uncertainty and doubt, his fingers moved with precision. Surgeon’s fingers. They pulled you apart with gentle eagerness, coaxed with deft certainty. First one finger than two circled around the sensitive nub, stimulating it into hardness with startling ease.

A surprise moan punched out of you, and you tilted your head back, fighting to control your breathing.

049 dipped his fingers down your slick folds to your entrance, prodding inside without much resistance before dragging his fingers back up, drenching your nub with your own arousal.

“What—” you choked out. “Where… did you learn to…”

He spoke into your ear, a hint of smugness to his words.

“The human body is familiar territory I have traversed countless times. It has its secrets, but I know them all.”

You nearly choked on your own breath, your chest rising and falling too fast as you tried to remain somewhat in control. His fingers slipped back inside your entrance, rubbing against the spongy material on the inside wall as his thumb rubbed circles against your clit.

You weren’t going to last long like this. He’d already made you wet enough so penetration would no longer run the risk of injury, but he didn’t stop. You didn’t want him to stop, you wanted to come on his fingers just as you’d wanted to when he’d given you that first examination, unfairly making your body respond like a well-tuned instrument to his ministrations.

Your peak was rapidly approaching, and it was not one you would be able to bear in silence. It was going to hit you hard, for everyone to witness for their dissection and cataloguing.

You couldn’t—you didn’t want them to—

“Stop.”

It was a testament to his self-control that 049 stilled his movements. You were breathing hard, sweat damp on your skin, a ruined mess with just a few strokes of his hand.

049’s focus was sharp, devouring in the way a predator would savor over their prey whimpering between their claws. But he didn’t move, and concern crept into his eyes as he searched yours.

“I don’t… want them to see.”

Your eyes burned with humiliation, with the force of your need and the shame of it.

“Turn me over.”

His gaze flickered with understanding, but there was concern there too, and he seemed as if he was going to speak. But then he removed his fingers from inside you and lifted up, a hand on your hip turning you onto your stomach.

When his weight settled along your back, his cock pressed against your thigh, you bit into the pillow to muffle the moan. It felt different in this position, your hips automatically lifting from the bed, desperate to rub against him. There was no hesitancy this time, your need far greater than your fear. You didn’t care what the cameras saw now, what little they could see. He was once again shielding you from your watchers, his broad form keeping their prying eyes from your skin.

Your smock had ridden over your breasts, and your pert nipples rubbed against the sheets, drawing out another low moan. 049 adjusted himself so his cock hung just behind you, heavy and hot against your folds.

“Please,” you begged, your knees braced against the bed, lifting your hips as much as you could with him weighing you down. “Please.”

He growled low, his face pressed into your hair just behind your ear, and he lined himself up. He pushed, the head of his cock breaching your entrance easier this time, followed by the wider length of his girth.

You whined between your teeth, the stretch almost too much even with your arousal making a mess down your thighs. He held your hip with one hand, biting out something in French.

Insatiable, you tried to meet him, pushing back, and forcing another inch or two inside. He gave a gutted noise, as if the pleasure was almost too much. It was a beautiful sound; you wanted to hear it again. You tried to wiggle further backwards, take more of him, but he grabbed your hip firmly with his other hand, making you still.

“Wait,” he spoke in that same breathless shudder. “One moment.”

You didn’t have a choice with his vice-like grip on your body. He breathed heavily, a shiver rippling through him, and God, you wanted him fully inside you so much it hurt. The cameras, the observers, they didn’t matter in the face of the hunger that licked up your thighs and heated your core.

“Please,” you whispered, his face so close you didn’t need to speak louder. “I can do this.”

He let out a small breath that might have been a laugh.

“It is not a question… of your capability.” His words were taut as a wire. “It is a matter of strength, and how I must... restrain mine.”

You took his hand and placed it on the bed, slipping yours underneath. You twined your fingers with his, your knuckles braced against his palm. What should have been a lethal touch, but for you, never would be.

“I trust you.”

049 shivered, his forehead pressed against your hair, his body trembling in an effort to remain still.

“I need you.” You squeezed his fingers. “I want you.”

You sensed when he stopped fighting it. His posture relaxed, no longer rigid, and he pulled back a few inches. He pushed back in, the sudden intrusion hot and wet and sending sparks up your spine. You arched back against him, and the next thrust went deeper.

Unshed tears blurred your vision, the stretch and fullness almost too much and yet not enough. It was on the third thrust that his hips connected with yours, snug against you as his cock filled you past what any other human could.

You could barely think, barely breathe, your body a useless, lustful thing. A moan dragged out of you as you leaned back against him, and with his own answering growl he pushed you flat against the mattress.

The restraint he’d tried to maintain was gone, though his movements weren’t careless. Each thrust down into you, each roll of his hips was done with intention, a drive to ruin you for anyone else. You were completely full, your walls clinging to the strange textures of his skin, the curve of his cock striking a deep bundle of nerves you didn’t even know were there.

His skin was hot, almost burning every place he touched you, his cock sending jolts of heat down your gut. His breathing ran ragged, accentuated by the harsh metallic effect of this voice. Any moans that slipped out were quiet but choked with pleasure, driving him harder into you.

Your mind was a bubbling, staticky mess. 049 wasn’t just thick, there were ridges along his shaft, a pattern you couldn’t discern, not with your mind a jumbled haze. Every thrust rubbed against more than one sensitive spot, leaving you a drooling, panting mess as your walls slowly tightened around him. You were close to reaching your peak, and this time, you weren’t going to stop.

His hand hadn’t left yours, his fingers clawing the sheets underneath. But his other hand rounded your hip to press flat against your abdomen, right above your pelvis. Comforting. Protective.

Possessive.

White light burst behind your eyes. You were a vice around him, forcing him to slow as you throbbed and arched your spine. 049 growled, losing his rhythm. Something large pressed against your entrance at the base of his shaft. You didn’t know what it was, but you grinded against it with a single-minded need even though it was far too large for you to take.

More French expletives spilled from him as he forced you to remain in place, but the hot barrier pressed against your entrance as 049 shuddered with a low growl that was almost animalistic. He throbbed inside you as he gasped for air, each breath hot against your neck. He dipped his head against your shoulder, releasing your abdomen to slide upward, wrapping his arm around your waist.

You released a heavy breath and relaxed, bliss washing over you like a soothing wave, aided by his warm weight on your back. You still pulsed around him, but it was a dull, pleasant sensation. Closing your eyes, you let yourself stay in the moment. No thoughts or worries or fears.

Just him. Only him.

Next Chapter

[jess-the-reckless]

I didn't do much work this weekend, because I couldn't be arsed. Instead I wrote some fic, and continued to be amazed how well Crowley and Aziraphale adapt to the role of grumpy, middle-aged lesbians. In this bit they return to the suite at the Savoy where they had a dirty weekend in The Lady Gardener, except now they are hopelessly, aggressively married.

____________________________

Aziraphale went through to the living area in search of the room service menu. It was one of those hot summer days where the river itself seemed to be sweating, casting a fine mist through the heat shimmer bouncing off the Embankment. The last time she’d been here had been spring. The daffodils had been out in St. James’s Park, and she and Crowley had rolled around in the guise of illicit lovers like a pair of happy pigs in poo. Well, sort of happy. There were things she could do now that she couldn’t do then, like knitting Crowley rubbish socks, or saying ‘I love you’, or casually asking at reception if her wife had arrived at the hotel yet.

Crowley, now minus the sleep mask, followed her through the suite. She was still wearing the socks, despite the heat. Below the preciptiously high hem of her tiny nightie her legs were long and brown, tanned from hanging around gardens in very small shorts. “How was your gardening class?” Aziraphale asked.

“Maxless,” said Crowley, tossing herself onto the sofa. “Alison has pulled her out.”

“Oh no. Why?”

Crowley shrugged, pulling her hem up almost to crotch height. By some miracle she was actually wearing underpants, but then again she had only just got here. “Apparently I’m recruiting her to the transgender agenda,” she said.

“And how are you doing that?”

“Not sure. I was just trying to encourage her interest in entomology. Are insects transgender?”

“Oh, probably,” said Aziraphale, perching at the table next to the window, and kicking off her shoes. “I know there are fish that change sex. And reptiles, I think.”

“Snakes, definitely. We get up to all sorts. Do you know there are some snakes that can reproduce asexually?”

Aziraphale looked up from the wine list in alarm. “Crowley, if this is your way of telling me you’re pregnant I’m going to be very upset.” She’d mentally pencilled in a lot of drinking for this weekend, and it was going to be no fun at all if Crowley couldn’t partake.

“Pregnant? At my age? No. I was just saying. Lot of things change gender. Birds do it, bees do it…”

“…yes, even educated fleas, I daresay,” said Aziraphale, mentally meandering into Cole Porter. It seemed an endless source of horror to the Alisons of this world that their child should ever want to change sex at some point, as though that was somehow the worse thing a child could ever want to do with their life, a thing so horrible they had to be ‘brainwashed’ into it. Aziraphale was not clear about how this brainwashing was supposed to take place. According to Louise it could take root if they were exposed to too many rainbow flags, or the wrong kind of rainbow flags. The rainbows were only meant to have a certain number of stripes, apparently. If they had too many stripes then – boom – your child broke out in a violent case of transgenderism and became…something? Rabid, perhaps. Or they turned into one of those monsters who left only one sheet of toilet paper on the roll, strategically wrapped around the cardboard spindle to look like there was more.

The feared consequences were never entirely clear, but they never were with these types of moral panics. Aziraphale had seen it all before, too many times, and while she wasn’t that deep into the lore of this new derangement she thought she knew the root of the anxiety behind it: the children were not listening to their parents. It always happened, and it had to happen, because it was normal and natural for them to do so. But letting them go? Letting them go off and do their own thing and make their own mistakes? Yes, that was terrifying, and that’s where the Alisons came in useful to the Louises, who knew how to poke at those natural parental anxieties like a demon goading the damned. Alisons, in their own way, were as dangerous as the Louises. It took a wolf to frighten the sheep, yes, but a stampede of sheep could still make one hell of a mess.

That village needed a sheepdog.

“Hmm?” said Crowley, getting to her feet. Something rustled, as though she’d been sitting on a shopping bag, and Aziraphale glanced back at the sofa, half hoping that Crowley had popped into Coco de Mer for old times sake. But no. “What are you on about?” said Crowley, meandering to the window. “We’re not getting a dog.”

“Who said anything about getting a dog?”

“You did. Just now. You just said ‘that village needs a sheepdog’ while fiddling with the backs of your earrings, and staring out at the river.” Crowley’s arms slithered around her from behind. “Are you all right? You’re not going to start turning London landmarks into vaginas, are you?”

“I’m fine,” said Aziraphale. “Just thinking aloud. You know me. I’m very old, and my mental processes are opaque at the best of times.” There it was again. The rustle. Like the scrunch of a plastic bag, but wet somehow. “What’s that noise?”

“Traffic. You know – that thing they have in London?”

“I know what traffic sounds like, Crowley. And it doesn’t squelch. Is that you?”

“Oh. That. Yeah. I’ve got Vaseline socks on.”

Aziraphale leaned her head back into Crowley’s chest and looked up. “I’m sorry – what?”

“It’s a thing,” said Crowley, taking a seat at the table. “Like, yes, I know Louise is a creature from Hell, but Olga told me she has this hardcore method of moisturising feet, and you know me and feet. I’ll take any help I can get. You cover your feet with petroleum jelly, put a sock on over the top, then let it just…sit. Marinate.”

“I see. Won’t you get Vaseline all over your socks?”

“No. That’s the clever part, see. You put a plastic sandwich bag over the Vaseline, and then you put on the sock…”

“…and rustle and squelch strangely all over a nice suite at the Savoy?”

“Yes.”

“You’re entirely bizarre,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley wriggled in her chair. “You love me,” she said, running a socked and sandwich-bagged foot up the back of Aziraphale’s calf.

“I do, but please attend to the foot situation before we go any further. I’m sorry, but I can’t get amorous when you’re roaming around with your feet done up a la Louise. Just the mere thought of that woman is enough to render me parched to the knees and beyond.” Aziraphale reached for the wine list again. “Shall I order us some champagne?”

“Surprised it took you this long, actually. I was beginning to think you were ill.”

[junebugwriter]

Being trans is a nightmare funhouse rollercoaster of hindsight, regret, relief, joy, pain, fear, anxiety, and excitement.

I came out late in life. No, later. Not too late though. I lived 35 years on this earth before I figured out that I was trans. But I was trans those 35 years, too. 35 years of making myself less, trying to be a thing I wasn't. 35 years of not perceiving a crucial element to my existence, but knowing something about me was not quite as it should be. 35 years of living a life, failing in that life, finding a new life, and then smashing the new life to bits in order to truly live my authentic life.

I was not just another person. I was at least 3 different people before coming out. Possibly more. And even now, a couple of years into it, I'm still finding new things out about myself, uncovering the lost temple that is Me, hidden by time, neglect, and societal influence.

I'm finding that I love color. I always knew I did, but I truly, truly cannot get enough color in my life. I used to think, "Oh, to be a hot goth girl, that would be the dream," but the truth is that's not me! I'm just not.

I'm a soft, pleasant, rainbow-hipster chick throwback from the sixties, minus all the horrible gender politics of the time. I'm a librarian looking kaleidoscope of paisley and lace. And I love that. I love the glorious style I feel I was meant to have, that I truly enjoy, and that it is something that is my own. My wife even says I have more style than her!

I want to uncover more. I still feel like I'm waiting for life to begin, stuck at a dead-end job, not quite a career, but now I'm genuinely anxious to begin it. I can't wait to see what life has for me, whereas before was only dread and anxiety. The future is going to be amazing, and I get to be amazing in it.

I'm a year into HRT, come this Saturday. I already look like my mom, and I love that about me. My mom is rad, I wish I was half as cool as her. Sure, I embarrass my dad, but that's his problem, not mine. He's an old grump, but he'll get over it. He's just not used to people coloring outside the lines, and him finding out he has a trans daughter is further outside the lines than any of us has ever dared to tread. But he's getting there. He used my name the other day. It's getting better.

I wish I had known before. I wish I could have come out earlier in life. But I know I wasn't ready. I wasn't safe. And the person who would have come out would not be me. It would probably be with a different name, a different life, one not mine, a strange parallel, but not mine.

I am me. I am the me I was meant to be. And whatever happens, I will wrench every future day out of the claws of a darkness I thought all consuming. I am myself, and I'll be damned if I ever go back to how I was.

Happy pride month.

[i-am-beckyu]

Prompt 3 bc you said I'm in a chaos mood

You said you lost it, was this it?

Treat Spiders the way you want to be treated. Killed without hesitation.

3D my gorgeous child. When you first sent your prompts, I was hyper fixating on jornos. But at 11pm we had an idea and brain said: WRITE IT! and speed wrote it. So I hope you like this extremely angsty fic because it is just angst on angst on angst :D

cw: death mentions (there's a lot but no one other than a mention bugs actually dying), fear, panic, anxiety, spider hybrids (arachnophobes I gotchu) death, a bit graphic with descriptions. In other words: I went hard with angst lol promise it has happy ending one shot words: 1204

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

Shroud knew he wasn't going to make it. His own mother had made that clear to him the day he had hatched, but he had never thought he was going to meet his end this way. It was a cruel life to be born into, but he had managed and now he was fully grown to a good 2 inches tall. All his siblings had long since left the cocoon leaving him to fend for himself. In a world that was kill or be killed, he was lucky he had survived this long. Even if it was through hiding in the unreachable crevices of his old home to avoid being picked off. But without anyone or anything left in the cocoon to provide him nutrients with, he’d eventually been forced to leave and find somewhere that had more food available. 

He’d seen many things on his journey looking for a safe haven to call home. Many terrible and horrible things. He’d watched as helpless other spiders had been snatched up and devoured by birds. Watched as heavy rains drowned other insects and bugs. He’d witnessed how insects and bugs fought others of their own species and eaten the remains of their dead foes. He was lucky in the sense of being a spider hybrid, having the smarts of a person rather than just another mindless prey, but having witnessed such horrors the world could cause, made him ever restless in his search for safety. But even they were nothing in comparison to how he was to meet his end. 

He’d only heard of them in legend. One of the few stories his mother had told him when they went to sleep at night. Out of all the predators in this world, none are more ruthless and terrifying than humans. 100x a spider hybrids size with triple the smarts. While they seem just like them minus 4 arms and a few other features, never mistake: they will only ever bring about your doom. For every way you could possibly think of dying, they had 10 plus more unimaginable ways to bring about your death. They could squish you beneath their gigantic thumbs, use their despicable sprays to poison the air, suck you up and leave you to die in their monstrous machines, trap you in jars and use you for experimentation or perhaps even burn you alive! The humans were creatures that could and would only bring about your demise. And Shroud was trapped in one’s cabinet. 

He didn’t know it was a humans’ home he had stumbled upon. The space he’d been scouting had been clear of any living creature for several hours before he had even dared getting closer and climbing up with the help of his webs. But as he had made his way about looking for food, the loud voices of people approaching could be heard, along with the vibrations of their footsteps shaking the earth as they went. It wasn’t hard to guess what was coming. Shroud didn’t have time to think as the door to the cabinet was flung open. He tried to hide behind one of the boxes on the shelf in attempts of not being seen, but unfortunately for him, it was the very box he was hidden behind that the human grabbed.

 A loud scream filled the air, as did the sound of a box crashing harshly down and onto the floor. “THERE’S A SPIDER IN THE CABINET!!!” The human shrieked. Shroud threw his hands over his ears at the sheer volume the human spoke in. “TOMMY!!!! GET IN HERE AND KILL IT!!!” Shroud froze at the humans’ words. He tried to turn and run, but his legs felt like jelly and he barely stumbled a few steps before falling to the cabinets floor. “TUBBO?!? TUBBO WHAT’S WRONG??” A second humans’ voice appeared yelling in alarm. Shroud continued to try and get away, till he had scrambled into the corner of the cabinet. 

“It's in the Cabinet Tommy. Top shelf! Kill it!! Please kill it! Kill it! Kill it!!!” the first human shouted again. 

A shadow was suddenly cast over Shroud, blocking out the light. He scrunched his eyes tightly shut, as his entire body began to shake uncontrollably. His breathing became short and staggered as he waited for his impending doom. He didn’t want to see how he was going to die. He’d tried so hard to make it. He’d survived with so little for so long. He just wanted to find someplace safe! 

“A spider is not going to hurt you Tubbo so just- oh. Hello.” The human spoke above him, surprise laced in their voice. When nothing happened, Shroud peaked an eye open and was surprised to see not the human ready to kill him, but instead adorned with a soft gentle smile. “Just look at you.” They exclaimed, reaching their hand towards him, their pointer finger outstretched. Shroud shut his eyes once more and buried his face into his 6 arms tighter, willing himself to just disappear from existence.

“Tubbo you d*** head, this isn’t a spider. It’s a tiny spider-human-like hybrid.”

The human began to gently scratch the top of Shrouds head. He relaxed slightly at the contact. No one had ever touched him like this before. “Well just hurry up and kill it Tommy! It’s still a spider!” the other human screeched at its human friend. 

“Tubbo! You can’t say s*** like that!” The human replied as he stopped scratching Shrouds head. Shroud whined at the loss of contact lifting his head as if to follow after the giant appendage. He didn’t want them to stop. 

“Like that huh?” The human said, smirking a little at his display. 

Shroud looked the human over once more. They were like nothing he’d ever imagined. They had blond curly hair and bright blue eyes and were staring at him like he was the most precious thing in the entire world. But that didn’t make sense? Humans were supposed to be ruthless killing machines? Even their friend had seemed desperate for their companion to dispose of him! Why were they being so kind? 

Suddenly the human's hands reappeared and scooped him up off the shelf and into its grasp. He wanted to fight it and get away, but Shroud couldn’t help himself from melting into the warmth beneath him. It was so nice and it felt safe. “Oh you’re such a sweetie.” The human said, raising him up higher to his face to get a better look at him. “What’s your name?” they asked. Oh so quietly, he responded “Shroud.” he said semi trying to hide himself at being so close to the apex predator. 

“It’s nice to meet you Shroud. I’m Tommy.” The human- Tommy said with a smile. “Would you like to get something to eat?” He asked. Shroud gave a very hesitant nod, and Tommy began to walk out of wherever it was they were in and to somewhere new. Not even acknowledging the other freaked out human as they went. 

And it was after that day that two things happened to Shroud. He finally had found himself a safe place to call home, and somehow gained a loving protecting father.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

wow. just wow. I just chose angst writing this. like man. Just how many different ways can I cram in death in one fic? A lot it seems. If you read to the end, thanks for doing so and I hope you enjoyed the fic ❤️

[ahomeforheadmates]

This disorder fucking SUCKS sometimes

We just went through three weeks of prolonged trauma [hurricane, got the flu (FOR THE 7TH TIME IN THE SPAN OF ONE YEAR 💞💖) and then another hurricane which this time we had to take care of a rescued squirrel with no help by adults except to try and cuddle this injured wildlife as we desperately tried to find a rescue (we did Milton is safe and happy in professional care) and take care of said adults emotions and moods]

And everyone is fucking gone what the fuck

Geniunely every single alter (minus four- including me) is in hiding right now besides this poor person- someone I don’t know- who has NEVER FRONTED BEFORE has been handling body front for DAYS and they just formed and only met dazai before we all went in hiding involuntarily from the stress

I came back about ten minutes ago, I think because fig came back in this hour and started fronting and can’t handle the anxiety and the poor new person who got shoved into front didn’t even know what was going on and didn’t know anyone but knew something was horribly wrong and had to deal with the anxiety of knowing their not supposed to be alone and not fully knowing what a system was and how it works

Oh my god imagine forming and only getting to meet one alter for like two minutes just enough to learn their name and tell you to hang in there and reeling with the effects of three weeks exposed trauma alone for days WHILE dealing with one of our hardest to work with persecutors who the whole time was trying to get them to depression spiral who also looks btw like a back rooms monster so

I still don’t know who they are, they’re passed Tf out poor guy

I only hope I can stay in front and try to fix this shit I know I’m not the best candidate but

Sorry this is almost incompressible but oh god What happened

-Kerosene 🔥🛢️

@the-tired-meatbag

Atting you to hope to catch you up friend

[crowtrobotx]

your most recent fic destroyed me and now i HAVE to ask— how do you think the chrysalis story/maybe just lottie in general would turn out if she was raised by kris? if something happened to karl but maybe they’re still stuck in the village. obv don’t spoil anything you don’t want to but that little thought experiment killed me.

OHHHH MY GOD Jackal you really do ask the best questions. I had to think about this for a while! It’s funny bc Karl & Lottie are such a package deal in my head and I’m just like… Do Not separate them. Like so much of her personality is just wrapped up in being his horrible little clone and constant shadow that cutting her out of that picture seems almost impossible.

HOWEVER. I can think of several scenarios where they might end up apart (minus him straight up dying bc that isn't fun!!! I say as if what I'm about to talk about is any better lmao.) Like, minor spoiler but this won't happen (obviously) because Reasons - I imagine Karl would want to pay off the Duke to whisk Kris out of the Village before Lottie is born (whether it's because they realize their WHOOPSIE or it's coincidental.) And maybe it happens and Kris of course doesn't hear from him for ~7 years and she forgets a lot of the finer details of his face and his voice doesn't come so easily to mind anymore. And then he does escape and he does get his freedom ending and he finds her and whatever you do, do not think about Karl seeing Lottie for the first time after never knowing her especially in the scenario where he didn't realize she existed oh my god oh mY GOD--

Anyway. To your actual question: I would like to think most of Lottie's gremlin nature is just inherent. It's in the damn HeisenDNA. Like, no matter her circumstances she's always going to be a weird little girl who's a little too into the concept of cybernetic enhancements and bugs and rats. And Kris, being a former weird little girl herself, would definitely support her - but given that particularly the mechanics/engineering part are NOT in her area of expertise, I think she'd have to rely way more on teachers or outside sources to help that part of her blossom. She'd be the mom at the science fair nodding along enthusiastically like she knows what the hell anyone is saying while internally her brain is turning into soup. Would that effect Lottie negatively? I don't really think so, but it might make her less attached because she'd have to seek... enrichment further away from home lol. There’s also the issue of Lottie’s lil magnet powers. Kris would not know what to do with that/how to relate at all obviously. I think that’d cause a whole host of problems - not necessarily resentment on Lottie’s part bc she’d still think it was Neat but I also can’t help but think they’d be more chaotic or out of control after a point. I think it would fuck her up a little bit being the odd one out with no one to relate to and it might make her a bit mad at the world. :( I definitely am inclined to believe Kris would have a metric shitton of anxiety about keeping her away from folks who'd want to study her like a lab rat or worse use her for their goals, and as the child of an extremely obsessive compulsive parent I can tell you that it does rub off and can make you extremely paranoid. Like, Lottie's probably got her own little conspiracy board by age 5 in this scenario lol. Kris only knows protecc, attacc, and panic attacc.

Also, I’m truly trying to avoid saying “she’d be a bit kinder/more thoughtful” bc it feels like gender stereotyping but also Karl is Karl and the bar is on the floor lmao. Kris isn't nice but she does more or less recognize when people deserve kindness. I don't think she'd be better or worse off, overall. But she'd be different, as any of us would. I think what you'd end up with is a more subdued but still slightly feral little mischief maker who is more cognizant of other people's needs and wants but possibly less... funny and over the top in her pursuits as a result lol. I'll let you decide if that's a good or bad thing. Anyway. I'm now thinking too hard about that first scenario I described because you planted the seed lol. Hmmm.

[greatcheshire]

Rank your YT videos so far from favorite to least favorite to work on

Working on? Not ranked by my opinion of the finished product? Hmmm lol all of them are kinda hell to make but

Spider-Man: a basically painless process, minus the fact that it was a few days late because of weird life stuff

Kitchen Nightmares: kinda stressful since it was my first video after joining Nebula and I had to work on it during thanksgiving but I also don’t remember any of the process of writing or editing it, deserves second place for that alone

Dollar Store Game Show (Save to Win): Sort of stressful because I had to work on this while I had extended family in for a wedding and also found the conspiracy stuff at the last second. But overall not too bad

Lost Internet Meme Movie (Chronicles of Rick Roll): Minus the fact that the upload of it got delayed so much and the frustration I had getting the original thumbnail done, it was a pretty painless one to actually put together, at least while working on it.

Harley and Ivy: Ehhh could’ve been better lol. Had to try and get this one done by my birthday, birthday ended up horrible and that delayed the video. Wish I had done more in the production of this one but ah well

Demo Reel: This one came with the fun of learning to use Premiere, learning how to edit voiceover, having Premiere crash and lose half the footage, and having a snowstorm knock off power to the state for like a week. Fun times lol

Many Adaptations of Berserk: this one was a real bitch and a half. The writing and editing and research process took so long. It took a month just to edit the first seven minutes of the video. Once I got past that, it wasnt as bad. But geez lmao

The Return of Demo Reel: the actual process of putting this together wasn’t so bad once I started it but the months trying to finally make a new video haunt me. So much pressure to make something that would make up for the extended hiatus. Plus mad crunch to finish it at the end

The Cinemassacre Vid: This one was a fucking bitch. Taking six months of constant research and revising to do. Was so stressful I had to make a video about how stressful it was

Existential Horror of Making Content About Content: A video about how stressful making the AVGN video was. Wrote, recorded and edited in 24 hours during an anxiety attack. If I never watch it again it’ll be too soon

I hope this helps! My answers would probably be different if it was just me ranking how much I like the finished videos themselves, but I hope this gives a good idea of how I feel when it comes to making all of them

[annieradcliff]

Worry

@bullet-prooflove  @daniacat  @cosmic-psychickitty

“What were you doing out there? It’s minus 10 degrees!” Lanik snapped gruffly, placing his stethoscope over your heart and lungs, listening intently. Even though he wasn’t the doctor assigned to your case given his relationship with you, that didn’t stop him from checking you out himself to make sure you were all right.

Of course, he knew the reason you were outside on Med’s 10th floor balcony, especially after the horrible day you’ve had - the coldest day of a typical Chicago winter not much of a deterrent for you. The court decided against your petition in the case you had so carefully constructed over the past month and that decision had shattered you. It sent you reeling the way it always did in social services when your client was a child in need of your advocacy. Despite all your efforts and late nights working up a plan, the matter was concluded with the stroke of a pen and the strike of the gavel.

Now you found yourself in a hospital bed recovering from hypothermia. You looked up at Jimmy who was avoiding eye contact as he made adjustments to the multiple leads and tubes connected to you.

“Jimmy, after everything that happened today, I just … needed a moment alone. To contemplate.”

His gaze finally fell on you. The concern was definitely there, but so was a fair amount of anger.

“Contemplate what exactly?” he said a bit gruffly, as he busied himself with checking the output monitor dials. He knew he’d find everything in place and in perfect working order, but he was trying to suppress the crushing anxiety he felt by keeping himself occupied. He was on the verge of being overwhelmed at how close he came to losing you today. When you’d been brought inside and taken to the ED, you were in hypothermia and bradycardic. And he felt powerless in the face of it and he hated that. He had to watch helplessly from outside the trauma bay as the ED team worked hard to get your vitals and core temperature stabilized.

You could see the spiral of worry in him and decided it was time to snap him out of this before he went further down the rabbit hole of “what ifs”.

“Well, Jimmy – if you must know, I was contemplating the universe and my place in it.”

That response caught him off guard as you expected it would. He looked hard at you for moment and you couldn’t resist an impish glint when you locked eyes with him.  He knew what you were doing and it amazed him again how well you knew him.

“Well, did you find it – your place in the universe?” his tone softened and lost the harshness from earlier.

“Not out there on the balcony today – but I’m sure I’ll find it with you.”

He smiled, shaking his head slightly before reaching out and taking your hand. “You scared the hell out of me today, Y/N.” he said quietly.

You interlaced your fingers with his. “I know and I’m so sorry. After everything that happened at the courthouse, I wanted a moment alone. It didn’t feel that cold when I first went out there. Time got away from me ...”

He sighed deeply, the whole of the traumatic events finally pouring out of him. He looked down at you, his expressive eyes reflecting his love for you.

“Please come find me whenever it gets that bad, okay? Don’t carry that burden alone. I’m here. Always.”

[spikeinthepunch]

my healing from surgery is pretty good right now, im in hardly any pain and im generally doing normal stuff around the house (minus strenuous activity etc that i am ordered to not do). these past weeks have been so busy and have left me wanting to create or Something. and im not in a physical condition to draw right now, sadly (irritation from bending over is not good)

but i am sitting down to write, i havent written anything since late october. i keep thinking about What i have been writing these past months. i phased out of mcyt for a bit when i got into lisa, and wrote quite a number of things for lisa-- which i enjoyed because i was much weirder/experimental with those one shots. they were also done with the intent of writing dark and triggering subjects, because i just never let myself just... let go and do that.

i was throwing so much of it out there though that i hope no one actually thinks i was constantly in a horrible mental state that entire time lol. they were triggering, sure, but it was a major exploration in writing and dropping my own personal boundaries. my most recent fic lightly explored trauma recovery too, and im again writing something that is very sensitive.

it feels good in a different way bc like i said im not... in a bad mental place. if this was 15 year old me itd be a different story. but also, that different story would be 15 year old me being far too afraid to even write anything like this at all. which is fine for past me-- i am glad i didnt get into detail trauma dumping as a teen in this way lol. the fact of the matter is that i had scared myself forever into never writing anything like this in a way that wasn't surface level because of the anxiety i could be judged for 1) doing it 'wrong' 2) seen as 'bad' bc i explored something bad 3) being expected to defend myself in the form of disclosing trauma/mental illness/etc

i think i have broken through that barrier now in the last months and its simply cathartic to be able to dive into what i had previously held myself back on ever exploring.

[clouddynasty]

Been thinking- what if I made reader fanfic (idk if I want it to be a romantic one since it will be cool to have an awesome badass reader that rolls there eyes at the thought of it🧍🏾‍♀️)

I mostly wanna write stuff for Mk but if I find other hyperfications like avatar (the funny blue aliens) I will def write. Anyway here is a short story you can imagine ur character, oc or yourself as them if u want (u just wrote while being brain dead lmao)

If anyone ever gets ideas for stories please fill my brain

❄️——————story starts here——————❄️

clicking sounds of heels echoed on the cold pavement, as the lone person ran... Fled even, the deafening sounds of screaming and the crashing waves overwhelmed their senses. It almost felt as if the water had already swept them away drowning them in the cold depths and suffocating them in a bottomless pit full of cold bodies and ruins of where they once lived. But even with the speed that the adrenaline had created for them, the water was like a predator hunting prey. They speak a few words under their breath as their hands glow a (colour). A symbol glowed on the ground as the circular barrier whisped around them quickly as their fingers strained to keep it up. The cold depths smashed into the dome like a raging bull engulfing it and making the dome almost crack against the weight. Sweating bullets the person slowly laid down to their knees and closed their eyes trying to concentrate on keeping the barrier up, knowing that if they met eyes with the cold bodies that floated around them their composure would burst along with the barrier.

There was a chill. Water now lowered enough where it would not sweep you off your feet the lone survivor opened their eyes from their deep meditation, exhausted and ached they let the force field crack into non-existent particles. Standing up before the water took hold of anything above the waist they cracked their hands seeing that their veins were popping out horrendously due to the long periods of using a power they had not fully perfected. Looking around in shock and sadness the destruction that had happened out of nowhere had their heart crack as if it was glass. Seido looked like ancient underwater ruins minus the bodies of people they once knew, children… animals… adults' souls now in the clutches of the forest of souls. There was a heaviness to their thoughts as they looked at the damp rotting corpses of residents that used to be graced with life, it felt as if a shadow sat on their back and clutched their throat in a dark passion, sadistic… cold hearted it hovers over them like a sudden plague.

Finally snapping out the horrible images that lay before them they immediately searched for survivors… it was golden time… there was no time to cry and mourn… that was for later. Calling out to anyone hoping for a call back the barren wasteland was quiet… so quiet Fortunately adrenaline covered their anxieties in a blanket before exposing them to the chilling truth.

“I have to leave…” they whispered.

[an-sceal]

I got a haircut the other day, which was awesome. I've spent the past 48 hours looking at a stranger in the mirror when I pass one. I don't ever have a firm picture or solid understanding of "that is me in my body" when I look at myself anyway, just a vaguely recognized set of individual features (my ear with the elf point, my nose that is either too big or okay depending on the day, but is always the same shape, my eyebrows that are psychotic, my tattoo that is art.) Now my hair is short but still too long, which I will fix when I get home.

Before the haircut I was having a third or fourth day of feeling like nothing I was doing with or for my body was sitting correctly. Nausea from meds that are supposed to help my autoimmune disease, and bloating from meds that are supposed to help my stomach deal with the meds that help the arthritis, and fatigue from... everything? Anything? Breathing? (Possibly breathing, because allergens, and thus inflammation triggers, are high.) Clothes and hair and posture and voice were all clashing in this thing that contains me but doesn't fit. And I have had this body for many decades now, minus a part here or there, so I am very used to not feeling at home in it. Not feeling like my body is any sort of representation of who I am, or even a reliably identifiable placeholder for the spaces marked "ME".

It took me over 40 years to figure out that I wasn't a failure as a girl, as a woman, as a "female", even after I knew there were options well beyond the two I'd been given, or the notion of others thought I understood. Part of that was down to assuming I wasn't *____* enough to count. I didn't know what, but I knew I didn't hate my body, so I couldn't be trans, or even not-a-woman in some other way. Sometimes I clung to that as a defense, firm in reminding myself that I didn't, so I wasn't. Sometimes it just was, existing, a fact like my body, which is obvious to everyone else but a mystery to me at the best of times. In my mind, even though I've rarely felt at peace or in sync with "woman", I'd never had a moment where I explicitly felt that I wasn't a woman, much less one where I hated the idea. How would I have hated something that people told me I was, when I literally need to rely on the vague shape of myself and the labels people I trust have given me just to find myself in a mirror?

I was pretty clear for a long time on how I'd never felt any sort of gender dysphoria. Quite the opposite-- the things I held on to, got familiar with like the extra bump of my ear or the round tip of my nose, were all times I'd felt the MOST grounded and at home in this alien ecosystem I keep my consciousness in. Times I felt GOOD about how my hair fell or my clothes sat or my insides settled into my outsides. No dysphoria for me, no, no! Euphoria!

And that’s true! I have felt gender euphoria, lots of it, and bodily euphoria as I have moments where I'm seated and perfect inside my little squishy home. It never occurred to me that those opposite times, when I would have given ANYTHING to step outside my horrible hovel of a skin prison, might be... not how everyone feels. I'm not talking about self-harm or suicidal ideation-- the escape only counts if the me I know and am is intact when I emerge. I'm talking days where every part of me I recognized felt so disconnected and WRONG in relation to who I believed my body made me that I couldn't find any response but intense anxiety and eventual dissociation to cope with it.

I am not drift-compatible with my own body.

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 733

As a general rule of thumb, I don’t consider myself time blind. 

For those not familiar with the term, time blindness is when a person has difficulty with anything time related. This can include estimating how long a time will take, following a schedule or recognizing when it’s appropriate to start or finish a task. It’s also one of the symptoms those with ADHD can have.

It’s actually one of the reasons why I didn’t originally consider myself as having ADHD.

I follow a schedule all the time (it’s the only way I function at times) and minus the habit of starting something really late because I got horribly distracted by my brain matter, I generally know when I should start and stop a task. And since I’ve always been able to break up a larger task into smaller ones I assumed I knew how to estimate time as well.

Or at least I never had any anxiety over that, and I have seen people who had anxiety over how long a task actually would take.

And I had discovered since September that I might have a tiny bit of time blindness.

One of the routines I have been trying to maintain since September is to start making dinner at 7 p.m. Note I say, make dinner, NOT have dinner. Now I had always assumed my timeframe for making dinner was skewed because I used to get distracted easily while making dinner, but it turns out I have no fucking idea how long it makes me to make any dinner. Even easy ones.

Previously, the tracker was to have dinner at 7:30 p.m. (or something similar) and that never happened. I often had dinner at 8:00 p.m. or at worst 9:00 p.m. but considering how I used to be, that is a great improvement. It turns out I kept telling myself that it wouldn’t take long to make dinner giving myself maybe 15 minutes (don’t know why, I know fucking well how long it takes to cook chicken). As a result, the routine had to change to make dinner.

I still end up eating at 8 p.m. on most days but that is a vast improvement frankly.

And time blindness isn’t just severely underestimating or overestimating time taken. 

Sometimes it can also mean not knowing what you can do within a certain amount of time, and then just not doing anything so you don’t run late. This was something I was apparently doing at work and didn’t realize I was doing it. Of course I can’t make a call in 5 minutes (who knows what I’ll get), but I can certainly make database changes in 5 minutes. Several in fact, and it’s only because of my work journal that I know about this.

So yea… time blindness who knew?

[vampire-rodeo]

3, 6, 21, 37, 58 for the horrible asks >:) 💫

3) Do you regret anything?

I have an anxiety disorder so yeah 💀💀💀 but minus that still yes. When I was a young teen (11-13) i wasn’t a bad kid but I wasn’t as great as I thought I was. Generally I had a lot of internalized homophobia and was a bit of a pushover/naive and cared too much about online discourse. That’s a messy mix to be, and I pushed a few friends away that i really wish I hadn’t. That was a long time ago though and I’ve faced some tough realities and I feel like I’m a lot kinder then when I was as a kid 💪

6) How do you want to die?

Mortally wounded in a fight against Soran

Old, Happy, and Free.

21) What are your plans for this weekend?

I have to do a bit of work tmw morning, but other than that I mostly might chill out for a bit :) My parents want to go on a day trip with me and my brothers on Sunday, but I’m still tryna see if that can be scheduled.

37) Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Forget, probably. I don’t hold many grudges, but once I do dislike someone for something they did it’s hard to change my opinion of them unless they’ve 1000% changed their ways and apologized. But if it’s a petty issue, I tend to forget pretty easy and brush it off because it really doesn’t matter about small mistakes or slight offenses, especially if they didn’t mean it.

58) Favorite Weather?

Rainy but bright, slightly windy and around 70-80° :)

[deadpan-of-confusion]

i can't tell if I'm projecting my trauma on this guy or not, or if they're actually emotionally unavailable. three times now, I've had a horrible anxious reaction in the middle of having a normal conversation with them and all three times they were avoiding me for one reason or another. those reasons were somewhat justified. once i fucked up and didn't realize, and it took them a while to tell me. the second time they were frustrated with other things and didn't have energy to text me back. third time they were stressed over something i asked them to do for me and didn't want to talk to me bcs of the stress of completing the thing. each time i felt anxious and unsafe. i felt abandoned. growing up my parents were either not physically present or otherwise emotionally unavailable. i definitely have an insecure attachment style. though i thought I'd grown comfortable with this person. the time between us spending time together, even talking over text was at most months, on the regular it was weeks. then we'd spend a few days calling only each other for six hours straight. then it was a week of silence again. a week of me not feeling safe to text, then the anxiety was gone again when we talked. then I'd have to stop myself from always texting first for some time, bcs i was scared of being annoying. I'm hindsight this doesn't differ much from some other friendships i have. minus the anguish and anxiety, the feeling of being unsafe. for the most part anyway. that anxiety of mine seems to be always present. instead of texting them I'd just imagine spending time with them. in hindsight, that's not very healthy, i don't think at least. i don't know. I'm scared to let go. i know they have similar issues to me, so I want to cut them some slack, but the emotional investment feels so one sided a lot of the times it makes me want to cry. i don't sometimes even feel comfortable talking about the most mundane things, my hobbies, what mahwa I'm currently reading or which shows I'm enjoying. they have a lot on their plate and i feel selfish for taking time away from them because I'm insecure, because i can't quiet down my mind.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Hazbin Worlds Collide Ch6

(Maizy/Wild-Card/Angle-Cake/Dexter/Genstone/Beauty- me

Brinda/Tristan/Velvet/Aldo/Junior/Iridescence/Mako and part written by Palettepainter101)

What had followed after the slap, which had left a sourly red hand mark on Maizy's face, was distressingly traumatising for Brinda, and it could have been FAR worse if Brinda hadn't intervened and stopped Maizy before she could do any long term damage.

The worse she had done was break a few bones in his arms and had used her magic to inflict multiple gash wounds. As soon as he was realised from the deer's magical grasp he had hurriedly limped away, coward.

And then of course Brinda had to calm down Alastor who looked just about ready to murder everyone in the room after finding out that his sweet whittle angle had been slapped....Brinda very nearly had a heart attack he was looking so scary.

Currently, both girls sat on a table in the middle of the crowed room, piano music sounding in the background as a performer sang out her heart on the stage, people shaking in very appropriate ways that made Brinda feel highly uncomfortable. Unlike Maizy, who was calmly drinking at some beverage Brinda didn't know off.

She passed a worried and guilty glance at her red mark on her cheek, that still looked horribly sour from where the offending mans had had slapped her. Hard.

But that wasn't the only reason she was looking guilty, it was for another reason.

Brinda was never a violent person, she was a spoon when I came to fighting and was constantly referred to as a natural klutz by strangers who tripped her up on the pathway..they had no problem reminding her about it. Although she had come to accept long ago that she was a hopeless fighter, along with many other things:

Flying, magic, acting cool, looking cool and even trying to socialise like a normal person. She was terrible at all of these...unlike her friends who had a natural knack for the majority of these things (minus the flying for those who didn't have wings)

At first, when Brinda had met the other deer, she had been naturally weary. With her constant sharp toothed grin and how she would sit in a place for seemingly hours unblinking put Brinda in a skittish mood, more then her usual skittishness.

Brinda awkwardly tapped the ends of her claws together as she glanced round the room, it was full of guests at the hotel and she guessed that the majority of the crowds, that was also mostly filled with girls and boys no older looking then her, were probably just some people looking for a little 'entertainment' for there evenings.

But, all of that fear and anxiety that she held towards the female had been mostly relinquished when the smaller demon had stepped boldly in front of her when a man tried to slap her, after not getting what he wanted...

Brinda was so shocked that she was temporarily stunned while Maizy began to effortlessly bash the man from wall to wall with her staff, while also casually inspecting her nails, splintering the plaster of the walls in the process while the man grunted in pain.

She had just sat their, eyes wide and in a shocked state at what had just played out before her quite suddenly.

"Blondie." Brinda eep'd at her voice being called out above no more then then an appropriate volume, fur bristling like she had just had a static shock and wings raising slightly. Breathing a little unsteadily and lowering her paw from her chest Brinda turned shyly to look at the deer, her ear twitched.

"You're being awfully quite.." she gave Brinda a quick glance up and down, before looking back up at her "Somethin' on your mind??" Brinda was quite, looking at the deer with a slightly unsure look, clearly not knowing how to answer or knowing if she fully wanted to answer!!

For the whole time Brinda and the others had been here, the others had swiftly acquainted themselves with everyone and in short time everyone had found at least somebody they cooperated with, everyone, expect her.

Velvet got on with Maizy and Beauty Aldo and Tristan with Dexter and Wild-card Iridescence with Angel-Cake

Junior and Mako didn't seem to want to to get to know anyone, since they remained to be hostile towards anyone that attempted to befriend them, and then harshly turn them down.

Brinda didn't and couldn't find anyone that could relate to her, everyone here was either full of bottomless energy (like her aunt Nifty) or was too serious that they appeared too intimidating for Brinda to approach. Maizy more then anyone else.

She hadn't learned anything about her, she was too scared to try and approach her and for the whole of their surprise stay in an alternate universe she had stuck close to Tristan, and Velvet when she hadn't been talking to Maizy herself.

Brinda looked around, deliberately trying not to make eye contact with the deer but trying her best not to appear nervy "U-Uhm...fine, um, yeah." She knew she had badly covered up her nerves and she was pretty sure that Maizy was seeing through her act like it was a piece of glass.

Maizy rose a bold brow, placing her cup on the table and giving the cat before her a look that was piercing. Her eyes narrowed, like a predator studying it's feeble prey and Brinda was beginning to shuffle uncomfortably.

....Maizy inhaled, and then gave a small sigh through her nose "Why do you lie to me??"

Just as she feared would happened, Maizy saw through her act, the fact that she was also able to do it within just a few short seconds only confirmed to Brinda that she needed more practice.

The anxiety maximised on her gut, and the look the deer was giving her put her in such an uncomfortable mood that she was very tempted to bolt from the room and curl up under someone's bed.

But she kept a hold of it, she was going to give somebody the opportunity of making her look like a nincompoop.

"W-Well...I, um.." Maizy began to lightly tap a finger on the desk, showing she was getting impatient with the cats obvious stalling. A series of nervous noises followed from the cat in front of her and her ears flopped loosely to the sides of her head.

Maybe if she lied again she wouldn't see through it so quickly, everyone was better at something the second time around, or at least, that was the case for her. But..then again...

Brinda gave a silent sigh, hanging her head a fraction before looking back up to make eye contact with the deer, she was still tapping her finger. Brinda gulped down the lump in her throat that had been their for some time now, inhaling one last time to calm her nerves.

"..I'm, well...I just feel a little.." she numbly lifted a paw to gesture to her own cheek, Maizy got the message in no time and lifted a hand to rub her swollen red cheek. "The slap??" She sounded genuinely confused at her worry, why would she be worried?? It was only a slap, she had suffered worse then a slap.

For one, she nearly got shot when out hunting with her farther, she was just grateful that he grabbed her and ran before she could, or he could, be hurt.

"What about it??" Her hand lowered and rested on the table, turning a puzzled look towards her. The confusion shown clearly in her face only really made Brinda feel more uneasy with the situation, she could feel her tail coiling round the legs of the stool.

"I-I...um..."

Vivid replays of the incident made herself claw herself on the inside, the way she had stood up for her, not bothered by her anxious huddling behind her. How she blew a man against a wall like he was a beach ball!!

And then their was the dreadful sound of the slap that Brinda could only begin to imagine how much it must have stung.

...And the fact she had gotten in the way..Brinda didn't know why, she didn't ask her to ( not that she would have been able to talk with her petrified she was). She thought that Maizy hated her, or maybe that was just her imagination over reacting things, likely option.

"I-I just.." Her face dropped and she could feel her face growing a soft sad at the hand mark on her cheek, and how she could have been the one who bore that mark on her cheek. "Yes??" Maizy cocked her head to the left.

Brinda took another steadying breath, before plunging forward "I just..I feel a little guilty for the.." not finishing her sentence, Brinda allowed Maizy to pick up the pieces and put them together to figure out herself, Brinda didn't have the courage nor the words to finish her sentence.

A small silence hung between the two, the only noise being Maizy's mother singing like an angle on stage and the turning of cogs inside Maizy's head. After it had all clicked Maizy's eyes widened a fraction more in realisation.

More silence.

The silence was almost crushing and Brinda felt the anxiety clawing at her gut, again. She distracted herself by glancing round the room at the patrons dancing around the room, and turning away red when she saw a couple making out not so discreetly in the corners or on the tables.

"Dont be." Maizy lifted up her cup and held it with an elegant hand, blowing on it too cool it down as Brinda turned to look at her with a hum and slowly arching brow. Maixy lifted her cup to her lips and took a small drink.

"D-Don't be??" Brinda repeated, clearly confused "Don't be what??" Maizy paused, holding her cup briefly half outstretched to her mouth before placing it back down on the table. She turned back over towards Brinda "Don't feel guilty." She said simply.

That...wasn't the response Brinda had in mind. Whenever something along the lines like this happened with her and Velvet, Velvet would often have a small conversation with her to ease her nerves, reassure her. But then again, she couldn't really demand that kind of reaction from someone who wasn't Velvet.

She did sometimes forget that they had been thrown into another universe right out of the blue (how she could forget something like that she would never know), her and her friends had been thrown into chaos for the third time this week.

"It was the man that slapped me, stupid air bag of a man in my opinion, limped away like the coward he was." Mimzy made a dismissive noise and rolled her eyes, but Brinda didn't look any more reassured.

"I know he did..but.." she felt awkward again, and went back to tapping the ends of her claws together in her anxious state. "You-I mean..You didn't have to stand in for me!!" She did genuinely mean it, she felt bad enough that Maizy was having to stand up for her and that feeling was only doubled when Maizy took the slap for her.

Maizy made a noise and waved her hand, like she was warding off some unwanted admirer. "Psh!! No one MADE me step in the way." She made the word 'made' clear in her sentence.

She looked back over at Brinda, and even though the sharp tooth smile didn't waver from her face, there was a sense of a kind and forgiving aura about it, something that made the smile not so frightening and made Brinda calm.

For once, Brinda saw past her fear and the psychopathic deer, didn't seem quite so scary any more.

"I got in the way entirely on my own, you didn't make me." She smiled again, softly and sweetly and devoid of any kind of insane or dangerous glint. She held her smile at Brinda for a moment longer, before turning away and glancing over towards the stage to watch the performance.

On stage her mother didn't seem to notice her in the crowd, but that was understandable, the room was completely full and their were probably a few people standing outside in the hallways of the buildings.

But she didn't mind.

If anything she found it nice to know that her mother wasn't specifically looking out for her in the crowded room. She knew very well just how over motherly she could be and at times it could be a little over bearing, as a child she nearly tried to baby-proof the whole hotel and even made her uncle Husk wear marshmallows on his sharp claws so that he wouldn't accidentally cut her.

But that's what a mother is for, she could only hope that she wasn't like that if she became a mother, word being IF she became one.

....something again had settled itself on Brinda. Something that made her feel sad and a tad sorrowful, the feeling grew stronger at the sight of the deer and the words she spoke so kindly to her. A orange cat demon, thinking it was always best to not judge by appearances, looks could be deceiving she would say.

And yet here she was..right from the start Brinda had judged the deer and had distanced herself from her to the point where even she was maybe starting to believe that it was getting unnecessary.

But here, here the deer had just stepped in for her when she was the one that was supposed to be slapped, she had taken the blow, and then not only that, she had beaten the man to a near pulp, all the while protecting her as well as herself.

And then here she was saying that it wasn't her fault that she was slapped!!

....it was the familiar feeling of guilt, and it was bitting into her like some of mad dog without chains.

"....I'm sorry." Although surprised at what she said Maizy remained tranquil and calmly turned her head over to Brinda, humming "Sorry, what was that??" Brinda lifted her gaze a little to search her face for any kind of trace of humour or smugness, but she only found a look of genuine confusion.

Brinda sighed, head hanging low and wishing that she had the comfort of Velvet or Tristan for a reassuring hug right about now. "I-I'm..I'm sorry Maizy.." It took her every ounce of bravery to look Maizy in the eye.

Maixy blinked, and then shook her head.

"I told you earlier kitten, you don't need to he sorry for-"

"No no!!" Brinda waved her paws lightly in a pacifist like manner and shook her head "Not for the slap I..." she suddenly became nervous again, lowering her paws to rest on the desk as she slowly made circles with her claw "I, um..I meant for earlier..like, when we all first came here.." when Maizy only continued to look confused Brinda continued.

"I...I judged you when we first came here.." her voice had lowered as did her head "I..I was mostly just scared, a-and I let what I saw get to me before I got to know you.." she gave a sad sigh, a quite one "..You may act different to my Velvet but, that doesn't justify the way I treated you...it wasn't right and, I should have known better.."

There was a pause

"I'm sorry..." Maizy blinked, this was certainly unexpected. As much as she did want an apology, she was honestly dryly bored of people avoiding her for the large ear to ear grin she was born with, but she most certainly didn't think that the shy blonde cat of all demons would be the only one to give her one.

Brinda reminded silent, decided to be quite and waiting for Maizy to say something, if she ever would say something that is as she had been quite for some time now...a little too long.

'Oh dear, she's being really quite!! Did I say it wrong?! Was I too sappy?? Oh I knew I should have gotten straight to the point, stupid cat!!'

Maixy stared at the dejected looking demon as if she was ready for whatever kind of punishment she deserved from her. Maizy did truthfully feel touched by Brinda's sincere apology, but she was never angry at her from the beginning, many people before her had done it, and she knew that Brinda wouldn't be the last.

Maizy shook her head "Brinda." The fact that Maizy actually used her name instead of a nickname showed just how serious she was, but she didn't sound serious "There is no reason for you to apologise to me. Yes, I was hurt when I realised that you were acting jumpy round me." Brinda whinced at the statement, but Maizy continued

"..But you are forgiven."

"Really??" Brinda looked up to her, she clearly wasn't expecting forgiveness as it showed clearly in her face, Maizy chuckled lightly, humoured at her reaction but not in a mean or offending way "Yea dear, you're forgi-"

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!!" Maizy wasn't prepared when two arms suddenly glomped her in a hug and pulled her close, pulling her right off her chair. Maizy blinked, paralysed a second before she looked up to Brinda.

She could hear her purring as she nuzzled her cheek into the top of her head, and for the first time she had seen her through out her stay here, Maizy saw her smile. It was bright and wide and beaming with happiness, you could tell that she was the daughter to Charlie.

She was actually very soft, and eventually Maizy hugged back, despite not being a huge fan on strangers invading her personal space. How long the two had sat their she didn't know, hugging it out like friends while Brinda was actually holding Maizy off the floor (against Brinda Maizy was very small and was maybe just under half the length of the cat)

Eventually though the two let each other go and, after a few more hours of talking to learn more about the other, the two decided that it would be time to perhaps try and get some sleep, it was getting very late.

Brinda yawned, raising a paw to her mouth and blinking slowly "Thank you for letting for letting me come with you Maizy..and for um, earlier..." Maixy smiled up at her new tall friend, this time her smile didn't make Brinda shiver "Nothing to worry about dear, I honestly find it quite entertaining, nice to have a little bit of excitement every now and then."

At this stage the stinging in her cheek had died down and the pain was gone, granted it was still a little bit swollen but she knew that of course that it would have died down by the time she woke up in the morning-

"Well well well.." Maizy stopped, ears perked. That voice..it was all too familiar to her and, instantly, the grip on her staff became stronger as she turned to face the ugly owner of the voice.

Brinda jolted at the sight of him, quickly ducking behind the much smaller Maizy and trying to conceal herself with her overly massive red wings. "Hey there girls, ya miss me?~"

"Hardly." Maizy answered straight after in a dead pan voice, already bored at the mans pathetic attempts to intimate her, unlike Brinda who was cowering and shaking behind her. The man glared at her "Well too bad you short-stack doe."

"Wow, well that 'insult'-" she did quotation marks with her hands "Was just sooo much better." Sarcasm dripped with every word as the man gave an enraged growl, making Maizy's smile widened and become rather smug looking.

"Okay you sick smilin' prick-" the man pulled a small black tube from his belt and aimed the weapon in Maizy's direction, she did nothing but raise a brow, failing to even flinch. Brinda only curled up more into a ball and began mumbling small reassurances to herself.

"Why don't you go run along and go prancing in some meadow and go find Bambi-" he leaned sideways slightly, and he gave a very hungry disgustingly dirty look towards the shivering cat demon, Maizy could feel her eye twitching "And I'll take care of yer friend their, she looks as if she could use a man to..." he paused a brief moment "Show her some fun-"

Maizy made a tutting noise, shaking her head like a mother "Honestly, why men like sex so much more then women I will never no..but please do yourself a favour." Maixy innocently inspected her staff, tapping the small orange tip at the end and making a noise of satisfaction as it momentarily glowed at her touch.

"I'm tired and I want to go to bed, and I really don't want to have to get our new carpets dirty." She passed a concerned look down towards the carpet beneath them "Go do yourself a favour and, run along." She waved a hand "Shoo shoo..."

She went to turn round and assist Brinda to her feet, but a small clicking noise behind her made her stop and her ear turned to the sound behind her "Why don't I rephrase that.." Sighing in irritation and rubbing the skin between her eyes Maizy boredly turned to the man, he was slowly walking forward, his gun aimed at her head

Oh how terrifying......

"You get the fuck out of my sight, and I'll take her friend away so I can f-"

BANG

Someone had fired a bullet dead at the mans weapon, sending it flying out his hand and sliding across the floor. Both Maizy, Brinda and the man looked to the now damaged weapon that had a large mark were the bullet had collided with it, their was no way it could be used again.

"That was a warning shot." Mako stepped out of the shadowed doorway, his gun smoking at the tube were the bullet was fired. He offered the rude man a glare that could shame stone itself as he re-aimed his gun, ready to shot

"Get out of here." He gestured with a tilt of his weapon to the doorway.

The man growled, but knew that if he ran to his weapon he would definitely be shot, and by the look of the wolfs clothing and the scars over his eye, he could guess that this wolf was most likely more experience with a gun then himself.

"Oh yeah??" He scoffed "And why the hell should I-"

BANG BANG

The man cursed loudly and collapsed to the floor when two bullets ripped through into his shoulder, blood gushed from the open wounds and the pain felt like a tiny thousands knives were probing his raw flesh and hot coal was burning his skin.

Mako took a step closer, reloading the gun with fresh amo before he turned it back down to the man "I won't say it again." Mako bent down and hoisted the man off the floor, lifting him off for a few seconds before he harshly shoved him back towards the door, nearly making him topple over backwards.

"Get out."

The man sat their, face white with fear before they turned on their foot drunkly and ran out of the doorway, Mako could hear them biting back a swear as his hurried footsteps gradually became less and less audible.

Once he was sure he was gone, he placed his gun back into its rightful holder on his belt.

....he turned round. And as he thought, both girls were giving him a questionable slightly surprised look, Brinda more then Maizy who had finally poked her head out from under her protective shield of her wings.

Mako looked at them from over his shoulder, not turned to fully look at them. Without a word, he turned off and walked up the stairs of the opposite side of the room, not even glancing or asking if either girls were injured, as he escalated the stairs and walked off down the upper hallway....