#this is just stream of consciousness babble tbh

[rofax]

cancer aftermath thoughts

The one year anniversary of getting diagnosed with cancer is coming up for me and I have. A lot of feelings. Too many feelings to fit inside one person actually. I don't know how to talk about these feelings without like, dopey poetic metaphors and shit so pls excuse me while I get knee deep in my own psyche with my flowery language boots on

I really and truly hate cancer. I hate it and what it took from me. I am filled with immense grief and rage at everything I lost. But I also feel like I got a literal second chance in this somehow? Like it's been a double edged sword if I have ever seen one.

I feel like I am being reforged. Like cast into the fire and melted down to a molten sludge that doesn't look like the old me AT ALL... but made again into something new without all the divots and scratches of the old.

You know when people sometimes pose the hypothetical "if you could be born again but keep all the knowledge you have now, would you?" I feel like I'm experiencing that in earnest. I lost so much of who I was and what I had built that I don't know myself when I look in the mirror. Which is like. Unnerving. And deeply sorrowful. But it's also given me this ability to step away from all the BAD from before. The threads of self criticism and fear and resentment towards myself that strangled me a couple years ago are just... gone. They got burned away too.

I just got my hair cut for the first time since chemo because it was getting fluffy and shapeless and I wanted it to look like I chose a pixie cut. For YEARS, going to the salon and having to stare at my face in the mirror while they chopped up my hair would send me into this self loathing, dysphoric spiral. All I could ever see was all my flaws and shortcomings and the ways I wasn't pretty enough or good enough or likeable enough. And this time I watched the guy trimming my teensy little hairs and it was like....

Who are you? Why did I hate you so much? I'm so sorry. I couldn't see it before. I can see it now. You don't deserve my hatred. You never did.

I used to feel embarrassed and ashamed when I had to dig deep to find something kind to say about myself. What do you like about yourself? Eeeuugghh.. uhhh..... I make people laugh... I guess? It felt insincere and vain and like I was trying to fool people into thinking I had value. And now it's like... just this righteous indignation on my own behalf. I AM an interesting person and I have value! I am a complex, contradictory, multifaceted human being and it's not my job on earth to be demure and appealing and pleasant! I like melodic death metal, my favorite color is pink, I read horror and romance and I love both, I'm learning how to belly dance and roller skate, I fucking love tired goth mom fashion, I am funny and have made multiple people urgently leave the room lest they piss their pants, I take my daughter out to do as much enriching stuff as possible and know her body language better than anyone in this house, I'm a good cook, I like doing laundry, I would probably drink coffee until I threw up if left to my own devices, I want kitschy mugs from places I visit and macabre jewelry and tattoos, I am a whole ass person! Why did I spend so much time trying to hate myself into being more palatable? Why was I so concerned with making concessions and compromises at my expense and stamping down the things about me that are beautiful?

I look at myself in the mirror now and I don't know that girl anymore. It's not who I was at the start of this. But I like her. For the first time in decades, I like that girl. I want her to be happy. She doesn't deserve what life threw at her. She doesn't deserve what I threw at her.

So like. Fuck cancer. Being thrown into the fires of the forge hurts. It fucking HURTS. But the other side is so much brighter than I expected.

[feministdolltrainer]

I love daddy soooo much 💕💕.

When he talks about like stuff I just bounce and like stick my tongue out an daddy smiles and that makes me happy and like wehm we watch stuff like I like watching like reality TV like it's like easy to understand 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰but sometimes there's like lots of stuff that happens and it's like omggg! So I just edge until like it gets easy to understand and my daddy always tells me "it's normal for girls like you princess you don't have to understand" 💕💕💕💕💕💞💞💞💞 and that makes me feel sooooo much better my old bfs would like wanna talk about serious things and it's like ummmmm what ?? But my bf like makes me feel good because like he doesn't do hard things. All I have to do is be pretty and edge for him like omggg that's sooo easy 💞💞💞💞💞. I used to like be shy about like how I looked and sounded when edging but now it's like ummm like I don't care like if my daddy is happy because I look like an idiot then I'm happy and like it jjst feels normal tbh and jt makes me feel pretty and happy 💞💞💞💞💞💞 my daddy males me edge to vids of myself edging 💞💞💞💞and it makes me feel so pretty and like empowered because like im like pretty and liek I look like porn🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Another adorable stream-of-consciousness askless ask from my favorite anonymous bimbo. Enjoy the brainless barbie babble everyone.

[prismbearer]

Braindead at the sudden thought of Ascian!Venat.

Uncertain if this would be a straightforward roleswap AU where say... Elidibus and Venat switch places somehow or if it would be better to form it like an alternate reality created by WoL's actions in Elpis etc.

Maybe Venat simply being more susceptible to the light? SHB had themes for light corruption and despite Ancients being able to hold mass quantities of aether maybe Venat having to weaken herself prior? Or simply a take where Hydaelyn weakening overtime leaves what remains of Venat at the core damaged, corrupted by light? A Venat without memory emerging from Hydaelyn similar to the concept of Elidibus as the Heart of Zodiark, quasi corrupted by the intentions during the final days? That would sort of run more like a thematic reversal though for the Source.

I suppose the Elidibus Swap has more ground to be less altering. Eli being young and close to the current Azem, maybe being inspired by them leaving the Convocation or the like? Influenced by their refusal to sacrifice their people etc? Harder part is Venat supporting the convocation. Maybe due to a setting altered by WoL where they befriend Themis a little too well and it leaves Venat having to do damage control since Elidibus rebels from the predetermined path of their fate? Perhaps she steps in to fill the seat Azem vacates?

Ooh. Venat who tries to stand by her intentions and principles, putting her faith in her protege and Themis to still light the way. Still becoming tempered despite her best wishes, knowing it is inevitable despite the knowledge that she could theoretically save the others with the travellers blessing etc. Being unwilling to risk the future that WoL comes from too much, knowing that it is the path of salvation for the Universe against Despair. Venat still being affected by the tempering, surviving with ES and Laha. Forced to experience the state of the star from the other side. Pushed by the tempering and knowledge of being WoL's enemy but still believing in them deep down.

Only bc frankly the idea of ES as Hydaelyn is horrific, would have to be Elidibus.

Maybe Azem finds out about the future and since they're apparently the "there has to be another way" type decides to attempt to alter that fate even at the risk of their own future self etc? Venat having to accelerate the summoning of Zodiark?

[thesarcasticside]

Anything-$00000DDD

Summary

He could have been anything. When he looked inside his own mind, he dug through darkness. Memories like ashes, the particles filling his lungs were all that were familiar to him—and those only felt like nothing. No fragments, just a fine powder.

Janus is a cyborg who works for the Dragon Witch, a criminal mastermind who runs a company that designs cybernetics.

He meets Remus, a self-taught biomedical engineer, and a variety of other robotic and alien characters, all of whom are trying to convince him that he is more than just a cybernetic puppet.

But who is “Dee” if not an empty husk created only to be controlled?

General warnings

Psychological horror, body horror, cybernetics, missing limbs, artificial limbs, Non-consensual forced medical treatment, physical abuse, blood, violence, guns, mind control, permanent amnesia, manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, nightmares, streams of consciousness, unreliable narration. Content that resembles depersonalization, derealization, or dissociation

More notes, links, and chapter text under the cut

AO3 Anything, AO3 series, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18

This is my story for the 2021 Storytime! Big Bang! @ts-storytime Thank you to @ben-phantomhive-trash, who is the artist I was partnered with for the event! They created this fantastic art!!!! I love it so much I can't even.

Thank you to PunkRock for helping me figure out the shorts characters and other plot things. Also thank you to AryaSkywalker, Thembo, and Carrotflowerking17 and the Big Bang 2021 discord for additional help!!!!

This fic is an alternative entry point to my (In Other Worlds) Series. This fic happens at the same time roughly as Millennia, a companion novel. You can read this fic and then check out the rest of the series, or check out the series and then read this.

Also, I don't use Janus's actual name throughout the fic for thematic and narrative reasons. You'll see. I hope that does not put you off too much. Consider it part of the angst.

Clarification of general warnings and pairings, minor spoilers

I added the tag unreliable narrator, but I will clarify that the narrator is not actively lying to the audience. This tag relates to Janus's memory issues and the uncertainty resulting from that. tbh I would not worry too much about the events being untrue, and more be concerned about these being Janus's imperfect recollection of events.

I think this fic is a bit more violent than Millennia at times, hence I added the archive warning for violence. I still feel like a teen would be fine reading this, so I am keeping the rating Teen and Up. This fic focuses the most on what I dub psychological horror (angst, mind control, memory issues, consciousness, nightmares, etc.). I also tagged this story with disassociation, and content in this fic may resemble derealization and depersonalization.

If you think I should warn/rate this fic differently, I am happy to hear feedback and reconsider.

I tagged this as Remus/Janus, but like, ya gotta squint. Mostly banter and being soft. I love romance, but I have a hard time writing it. Could be seen as platonic too.

HINT 1: KEY.

HINT 2: "kind of" not "kinda"

CHAPTER START

NAME J. D. Dedrick ID 25:35--25:44 / 51:09 ALIENRACE Dūcesnaca OCCUPATION Robotics Researcher

Chapter Warnings cybernetics, missing/artificial limbs (eye, legs), forced medical treatment/experimentation, amnesia, depersonalization/derealization/dissociation, unreliable narration, psychological horror, swearing Chapter Characters Janus, the Dragon Witch, Virgil (not by name)

He could have been anything. When he looked inside his own mind, he dug through darkness. Memories like ashes, the particles filling his lungs were all that were familiar to him—and those only felt like nothing. No fragments, just a fine powder.

He woke up to yellow in his eyes, stinging and unfocused. Lights beyond the veil flickered. He saw a figure move; he looked small. After a brief glance into the world, he began to drown. He threw everything into the yellow encasement, and after an agonizing struggle, the rush of acceleration threw him to the ground.

When the air touched his face, black fireworks exploded in his hazy vision, and the first memory he had was gone.

He woke up again, like a corpse left in the stale air for vultures: beaks plucking out his skin piece by piece. His vision blurry and halved, he stared up at the birds breaking his body into bits.

Reports say he was involved in a huge space crash. DRACANA has generously sponsored his artificiality.

That sounded like a lie. That sort of blatant untruth where there was no connection to reality tied to it. Everything his senses told him felt unreal, everything except the pain that grounded him like a shot duck.

Whispers like gossip broke into his mind between droughts of consciousness. His senses were pieced together and broken apart, like pieces of clay in a kiln shattering. Memories of vultures and lab coats glued together by agony floated through space until eventually he was awake.

Probably just one of her business rivals

Dei’dra—he knew her name—loomed over him, to his right. He could see nothing to his left. The light stung, he squinted and blinked his eye. He could feel nothing on the left side of his face. Dei’dra smiled at him.

“Wake up, dollface. Didn’t think you’d make it, but you pulled through.”

He did not know where he was. He did not know who he was. All he knew was that this woman was Dei’dra, the Dragon Witch, and he hated her.

“Well, he seems to be doing well. Might as well put him under and move onto the next stage.”

He lived out his days creating sand sculptures in his mind. He saw himself running in place, downloading skills and targets and concepts. The sand would blow away each day, leaving him with nothing to remember them by.

Between bouts of black unconsciousness, he saw grey, and white, and pale pink, brown, and blue. Abstract shapes morphing into creatures that prodded at him. Cold metal seething, machines twisting his body together like crochet. He gave nonsense names for some, not even names consisting of words, just pure thoughts.

Slowly, he lost sight of the sand in his brain, yet the grains still dripped from his ears when he shook his head. He became a part of reality. Or perhaps he became part of a hellish dream.

Darkness huddled in the damp sides of his eyes, danger snapping at his bruised joints and soles. Deep inside his chest, his heart damned, words mixed with intuitive instincts, daring his body to live beyond the yellow veil.

Stage One of Project $DEE has been completed.

$DEE was not his name. It was what he was called. One of the words that would echo in his brain. Dee. Dee. Dee. Like a rhythm, like the beeping machines. Like the ringing of the heart monitor. It was embedded in his ears. Baby words jumping around, forming pictures, babbling him into nothing.

Dee, his brain still a desert, started to make better sense of this reality he lived in. He could control his body sometimes. He could move his arms. Or what was left of his limbs. Or what they had lent him.

The second picture in his brain, the one after the yellow veil: it was the artificial lights on Lab C’s ceiling. Grey illuminated by white, he stared up at the square tiles and textured glass, like undulating waves of melted sand.

With how long he was locked in place staring up at this picture, he memorized it. He could close his eyes at any moment and picture it in its exact detail again.

“Time to get up, Doll-face. It’s time for your first mission.”

He saw Dei’dra’s face again. He felt his restraints loosen and break away.

His first mission was not all that glorious. He was lanky, unused to moving in his body. He was a wall of meat. Disposable. He followed a trail like a zombie. He barely spoke to the team he was placed in. He remembered their orders regarding him.

“He’s still pretty out of it. Give him some good experience, but we’d like to keep working on him so bring him back in one piece.”

Dee felt like a puppet, simply put. Some machine inside him aimed his cannons and lasers. He stood in place, shooting at targets. He was guided by an invisible leash by the team he was assigned to. He saw sepia shapes. Blurs of bodies. All he could feel was the emotions in his gut telling him, repeatedly:

Youaregoingtodieyouaregoingtodieyouaregoingtodieagainyouaregoingtodiestoppleasestoppleaseyouaregoingtodiestopstopstopstopstop.

He was kept suspended in place while his body completed the mission. And then he was back in Lab C, mind clearer.

He was thinking in sentences now. He could monologue, like any great villain. That is what he had become, hadn’t he? Why a villain? Where had he learned that word? The more he sifted through the sand, the more words he could find he no longer remembered learning. They were just there, connected to nothing. No memory. No past life.

He kept thinking these words. And then he decided that since his jaw was not glued shut, he would give speaking a try. Garbled and slurred at first, he kept talking as much as they let him.

They made him run between ceilings of grey. They made him speak between illuminated square tiles. He practiced lines of a script. Subterfuge settled in his brain like a mirage in the distance between the settled sand.

He could walk on the unsteady ground once again. He could see. He could hear. He could experience the world around him. He gazed up at the ceiling but was interrupted by a splotch of dark violet.

Another blot. Another vulture. He stood there out of the corner of his artificial eye.

“What are you waiting for? Get on with the tests.” His voice sharp, cutting through his tongue.

This was an unusual time of day for tests. To say it was a time of day was generous. It was more like he would be experimented on for hours upon hours and then suddenly they would stop. Nothing to do but bask in the nothingness it brought.

At this point, Dee thought that he was done with most of the tests. He had his limbs. He had an eye, which he opened wider to get a better look at the violet blotch. Something about the blotch was connected to something else in his brain, but he could not quite place it.

“Well, whatever it is, get on with it, it certainly could not have waited until morning.”

It shuffled closer to him. Less of a blotch now. He could make out shapes. He could recognize his face now if he saw him again.

Air escaped his lungs, and then he said again, asking, “Whatever might you need from me today, doctor?”

The blotch was shaking. “If you are just here to sight-see, I am going back to sleep.” His eyes weighed heavily on his face, eyelids falling through his willpower.

“Are you… okay?”

No, I am not ‘okay’. I am ‘$DEE.’

“Do I LOOK okay? Yeah sure, I am right as rain, having a grand old time—feeling peachy, even.” At this point, the words just spiraled off his tongue and through his teeth. The blotch made a sound, and Dee’s frustration grew, the pain of today’s tests ricocheting in his body.

“If you aren’t here to run another one of your little tests, then just get out. Go tell your superior, or better yet, go tell Dei’dra to go fuck herself and leave me alone.”

And he left him alone. He wondered vaguely what that was all about. He then fell asleep.

[clairelutra]

so in a stream of consciousness au babbled to @sixsaltysweets a few months back, i give you: shuann fake relationship/meet the family fic

where akiren needs to look nice and tame and well-behaved for his wealthy and extensive family after his stay in juvie

and he tries to finagle makoto into being his fake gf for the gathering (student council president, top student, sister of a lawyer, calm and passionate and reserved and basically exactly what his relatives would find most reassuring to see as his s/o) but she passes the ball to ann at the last second and akiren is Hurt and Betrayed™

now he has to pretend to be ann's boyfriend

he has to tell people that ann is his girlfriend

he has to live a LIE, MAKOTO

(but really it's that ann is distracting and not used to or made for any of this and he always ends up too soft around her and he doesn't want to show that kind of weakness to Those People, dammit makoto)

(if it were makoto they'd be teammate bros and it would be fine, but no. here he is juggling FEELINGS. here he is trying to keep ann away from his shittiest relatives. here he is trying to maintain a convincing level of pda while he usually relies on distance to keep his heart and dignity intact. dammit makoto.)

and then the Fake Relationship & Forced Proximity shenanigans begin.

- akiren drags ann into a corner when one specific relative is around because he knows they're a romantic and would just eat up a sweet rendezvous

- and he pulls her close to make getting their faces together look like a kiss

- but ann thinks he's legitimately going in for a kiss and closes the distance

- akiren does that anime thing where his head is actually steaming with a teapot whistling in the background.

akiren catching ann right as she's walking out of a bath and texting makoto

akiren: you're awful

makoto: hm? what happened?

akiren: awful.

makoto: is it really so bad to pretend?

makoto: i thought she'd be a good choice.

makoto: she's fluent in english and you're pretty good at looking, you know, attracted to her.

akiren: awful.

makoto: that bad, huh.

akiren: she smells so good.

makoto: ....ah.

(he's dying, man. how could you do this to him, makoto.)

family member: so what is he to you exactly

ann, thoughtfully: you know... he's my light :)

family member, to akiren: you landed a good one, kiddo

akiren, who knows that ann is a) completely serious and b) doesn't mean it like that: .........sure did

ann, blithely laying her head in his lap when they chill in the gardens: you know? i could really get used to this. we should hug more often

akiren: ...........................................................

ann's side of this is just fascinated with the way he manages his family tbh. "this both does and doesn't explain so much about you," and sometimes he, also, is fresh out of the bath and smells good.

she's not dying, per se, but she’s like "damn someone's gonna be lucky to get your attention one day," wondering why none of her defense alarms are going off when he gets close, even if she's never fully calm around him

it's unintentionally way too convincing that she's 100% in love with him and she marvels at how easy it is to fool his family—man she must be a really good actress, huh? :D

(meanwhile:

makoto: don't eat her or anything.

akiren: god don't make me think about it

makoto: ...........cannibalism is illegal in all 47 prefectures

akiren: that's not what i meant.

makoto: ?????)

they get back, shiho hears how deep in denial ann is, and

shiho: .................ann....... that's not.......... acting.

ann: :)? what else could it be?

shiho: ....................................................

shiho: i am THIS close to beating you ass

ann: ....your fingers are touching

shiho: exactly

//ann proceeds to run for her life, shiho screaming on her tracks

anyway i think they make up somehow, possibly after a brutal pillow beatdown from shiho.

makoto asks how it went

ann: hm. well... we sure have established that akiren would be a perfect boyfriend :D whoever he falls for is gonna be so lucky

makoto: ........i don't even know where to begin with that one

ryuji, equally oblivious but like. with sense: idk man why don't you just date him?

ann: man, idk if i'm his type. :/ he really wanted makoto to do it, right?

futaba, who knows and is a Huge Troll: 'type' is nothing to proving you'd be good girlfriend material :D you should put more effort into it!! :D :D really seduce him, you know? :D :D :D i could help~ :333333

ann: [actually considering it]

ann: i dunno thats kinda dishonest considering i'm not in love with him, you know

futaba: oh that just means you have to seduce yourself in the process!! it's easy :D :D just try it!! :D :D :D

(and THAT'S what finally breaks the oblivious denial)

she gets like half an hour into thinking about what it would be like to be in love with akiren and go out with him and it's like "wait literally nothing would change except i'd get to make out with him, which would be a really good thing, considering how often i want to— oh my GOD"

(and she completely skips the seduction because she just kind of comes out with it the very next time she sees him because she always ends up telling him everything anyway)

anyway TL;DR the moral of the story is that fake relationships occasionally trigger real relationships and sometimes accidentally setting up your friends, and also that futaba knows no shame