#cw: derealization

[maddilynmuse]

Two Stars

Chapter 2

Me: So… should we finish Bared Teeth and Open Hands? Should give those guys some closure and-

Brain: No, more angst

Me: Honestly valid.

A second chapter to my Body Swap Fic! Enjoy~

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2hats spoilers and post game spoilers for In Stars and Time. Also available on AO3.

CW: Body dysphoria/dysmorphia, derealization, dissociation, abnormal body signals, panic induced self harm, talking to yourself, general panic

Siffrin stared at the dots littering the back of his hands… his hands? Were these his hands? His hands were pale, near-darkless. But between the little specks of light, there was almost nothing but dark.

He flexed his fingers, and they moved. Paper pose, rock pose, scissors pose… they followed. It should’ve been clear they were his! But still he kept moving them, flitting between gestures and poses, open and closed, bending and unbending fingers, desperately trying to outwit himself. Maybe if they couldn’t keep up, he’d wake up from whatever dream this was! He just had to do something complicated enough that these not-his-hands couldn’t catch on in time!

But of course it didn’t work like that. This wasn’t a dream, these weren’t someone else’s hands, it was no strange mirror image. They moved “along with” his hands because they were his hands, no matter how violently his mind tried to reject this fact.

Even his panic felt wrong. He had no human heart to beat, no proper lungs to hyperventilate with, no physical means by which to get lightheaded except in the most painfully literal sense possible. Hah! Get it? Light headed! His head was a light! Wait was it? Yes! Yes it was! There was a subtle flare ever-present in the edges of his vision, and he could see the bark of the tree all too well.

His skin crawled… or flared? Was this how that felt? It was disconcertingly buzzy, like a buildup of static in one particular spot making nonexistent hairs stand on-end so much it prickled with something not-quite painful. It was distracting, and normally, a bit of discomfort would be welcome! Much easier not to think when you’re in agony! But this only scraped at the already fried edges of his mind.

He grabbed at one “flare” as it shot down his arm, but it did nothing to stop it. Invisible fingernails dug into lightless skin. He was seized by an irrational urge to tear it off. Yes, yes! It was just…

A suit.

A strange suit! So just… tear! Come on. Tear! It wasn’t like it was his cloak, he could rend this! The pain wasn’t enough to ground him, wasn’t enough, wasn’t enough. He needed, needed-

He needed his friends, his family, Isabeau, Mirabelle, Bonnie, Odile, Loop! Anyone, please! Anyone!

He needed to cut it off. The fabric was just too strong, right? And he couldn’t find the seam, so he’d make a new one! Now where was his dagger? Around his waist belt…

…

…

Oh stars he was completely nude.

Nope! Nope nope nope nope nope! Do not look at the starry skin! Don’t look at the fact that you’re built like a children’s toy! Don’t look don’t look don’t look!

He wished he could feel nauseous. Instead he just felt itchy. Constrained. Suffocated. Wrong. He needed to get this off. Minus the dagger, he just used his fingers, tearing at his own not-flesh with a desperate fervor. It stung, but not enough; his pain tolerance was too high. He needed to bleed, needed to see he was still human, needed to have some way of getting all this frantic pressure out! Get it out get it off get it out get it off get it out get it off get it off GET IT OFF!

Shlick!

There was a wet sound followed by a muffled cry of pain as he stared at the too-bright, misty fluid running out of one arm. The opposite hand was held in a scissors position. He had cut it…

And that was not blood. It wasn’t even fully liquid, some of it evaporating into mist. His mind went fuzzier than the flares on his body as he watched it, imagining that to be all the pent up panic leaking out. Too soon it tried to stop, so he picked at the wound, fingers tearing it just a bit more open. The relief was tangible, skin settling and the over-bright flare surrounding him dying down to something manageable.

Maybe best not to think about the reality of what he just did.

Instead…

“Let’s talk about something.” At least his voice sounded similar… wait, why did it sound similar? Hah! Had Loop been pitching their voice up the entire time? That was kind of funny, in a way.

He sat down on the opposite knoll that he woke up on, taking his normal seat. If he closed his eyes and tried to block out the itch of his skin, it was easy to imagine Loop sitting across from him instead of… whatever this counted as.

“So, stardust!”

?!?!

Oh. He said that. He was talking to himself. Okay then!

“So, stardust! Now can I help you this wonderful new loop? Or whatever this counts as! Because wow, you’ve managed to mess up in a blindingly bright NEW way! You really thought that messing with wishcraft again would end well for you? Stars, how did you even make it this far, you absolute idiot!”

… no. That was wrong. Loop was rude and obnoxious sometimes, but always nice when he needed it. Well, usually. Except when he REALLY upset them, but he couldn’t ask them to be infinitely okay with everything. Still, they were nicer than this.

So he tried again. “… sorry stardust. I got a bit carried away… so let’s try that again! How can I help you?”

“… I’m scared,” he admitted to himself, pulling his legs into his chest. With his eyes closed, he could pretend they looked normal. “And breathing won’t help. It feels wrong.”

“I know exactly what you mean, but don’t worry! You’ll get used to it! Or not! Who knows! I’m literally just you putting on a voice! Even less Loop than the real one!”

“Shut up.”

He was losing his mind, wasn’t he? Well, at least he wasn’t literally attacking himself anymore? Ugh, hopefully no one was listening, but wouldn’t they have said something by now if they were…?

“Ahem. So, stardust. Let’s go over this. How exactly did you manage this?”

He took… whatever counted as a breath. Seemed he still breathed, even if the mechanism was different. Good to know? “I made a wish for you, Loop! I- I wanted you to have a chance to be happy too, so I wished that you’d be able to be yourself with us, and I did use us specifically so that, you know, I could also be included and we didn’t have to kill each other or fervor…”

“And now you look exactly like me?”

“Apparently??? Which??? I don’t get??? Why would you being yourself mean I’m you?”

“Oh stardust, don’t flatter yourself. You already ARE me, and vice versa, and-“

“Oh my stars, I’m so stupid.”

Loop was him, so being themselves meant being Siffrin. He was in their body, so presumably the reverse was also true. But he’d used us! He was supposed to be included! But…

…

Well. What exactly was stopping him from joining them? Other than, well…

Looking like this.

…

And being naked.

…

He would like clothes, actually.

Being an infinitely easier goal, he decided to focus on that one. Step one, obtain a cloak or pants or skirt or SOMETHING, step two… everything else. Step out and- oh! It’s night time. Convenient? It looked like most would were inside for the night, and Vaugardiand rarely locked their doors, but they’d still hear him, right? And going into a house to steal somehow felt worse than walking in to chat or explore…

Oh! Clothes line!

And that was how Siffrin ended up robbing some poor person’s skirt because they couldn’t be bothered to take the wash in on time, scribbling a note of apology.

Now!

… everything else.

This was going to be a long trip.

-*-*-

That’s all for now~

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

[follow-the-compass-home]

There was madness in repetition. Perhaps that was why they had begun experimenting a bit in their methods for killing him. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking. 

[In which Jaron agrees to get farmed for hearts... and he regrets it.]

AU: Canon compliant

Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort

WC: 1,138 words

Relationship: None

Language: English

Status: Finished

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, major character death, temporary major character death, death loop, heart farming, blood, injury, violence, killing, repetitive killing, slight derealization.

Author’s Note: This is my very first lifesteal fic and my formal offering to enter the fandom (?) I love torturing myself so I started watching from season 1 and I couldn’t get this scene out of my head so here it is! I hope you like it!

[cosmic-ships]

Here is what I know about Alex that the game flat out tells you-

He's a bit of a jokester.

He tries to hit on Masha and fails because his pick up lines are terribly funny. (He's like "bad with woman" like how Dante is "bad with oman")

He hates spiders

He adores dogs and calls them Doggo's

Loves horror games/movies.

Here's my headcanons so far.

He's actually socially awkward that's why his interactions with Masha are weird and comes off as "flirty"

He's introverted and doesn't really enjoy going out (When he was dating Nika it gave the impression that whenever Nika wanted to go out he didn't want to go. Although it could have been because his pet had passed and he was upset over that which is understandable)

He doesn't know how to properly express his feelings. (I hc that he masks his real feelings with humor unless he's scared shitless) The game says that he and Nika would fight a lot.

Watches horror game playthroughs that he can't afford.

After the incidents at the apartments he sadly gets insomnia and is constantly setting up little things in certain ways around his place to make sure his reality is real, this includes him leaving himself voicemails.

Develops agoraphobia because he's scared that if he leaves his home reality will warp again and he's scared he will accidentally hurt someone.

[thehypermaniacprince]

[DE NOVO 2]

K frets over R. R wakes from a wretched nightmare…

R is in such a messy haze over who she is, what she did, and why K constantly looks lost whenever she looks at him. She’s R… right? So why does K not recognize her? K is trying his best to make R remember why she wanted to run away, why she wanted freedom. But… the R that stares at him is contempt with being one with the Imperials. Countless times does K plead with R to remember, gets so worked up over it, and then breaks down for indirectly hurting R about it.

R, meanwhile, is dealing with dreams that seem to mix and seep with the reality of the person she formerly was, always repeating. A vivid dream of one of two things. Her running across a scorched desert, clearly from someone or something. It doesn’t matter. And a pain that seems to increase the more the dream goes on. She often wakes up, the sensation of her death shocking through her system. It is enough to deprive her of her sleep for moments. She feels where the wound should be. There is nothing. She remembers bleeding out. She feels as if she should bleed out. There is nothing. In those moments, she surveys K, who is also sleep deprived. She notices that K is constantly restless, even moreso than ever. Constantly gripping onto someone’s signal, which was cracked and imperfectly put together. K accessing the signal, he always has a pattern to him. K always reading the last thing sent. A distress call that is vaguely familiar. K always going through someone else’s information. Countless transcripts sent back and forth. He seems to leave the signal alone for a moment countless times, and contemplates. R doesn’t want to see K in a state like this. She doesn’t want him to worry even more with the tumulous emotions the two have went through instantly, almost as if a year went by. She even wonders to even bother telling K about the dreams she has. It’s not worth it, she thinks. Two imperials keeping secrets for fretting over the other.

That seems to be the new normal, this new reluctant dynamic they have. Both in unease… … A dream plunged again. Every time of it happening, it seems to surface to her more and more… A grasp at something, a grasp at a second chance lying to her now, calling to her, opening her heart towards it. The soft feeling of sand filling her shoes. The vague reluctance of doubt casting over her. It goes on like this for awhile. And then… That damned weapon. The one that K said that was wielded by her own kind. Their kind. She’d try and give every single inch of her body a fighting chance. She’d curse of a name she no longer remembers. And that screaming. Someone screaming her name with such agony. Was that her, or was that him? She cannot remember. Breath in short gasps, the sickly iron scent of her blood washing over her. Deafening her. Overpowering everything else. Over. And over again.

She woke up, jolting pain searing through every nerve of her body. She held her hand where the staff drove through. It has happened so many times, so why is this one so unbearable? She slowly rose from where she was laying.

(UNFINISHED STORY)

[sad-leon]

That feeling when the passage of time clings to you and drags you down with it

Inspired by @remedyturtles's Death Wish fic that I've been rereading <3

KoFi || Patreon

[tobytost]

wait, you don’t remember what he looks like?

[vacant2007]

[x]

[aesthetic-otd]

Today's aesthetic is lostcore

[razberrypuck]

CW // derealization / word repetition / eye strain

wait, you— you don't remember what you look like? just make something up.

transparent ranboo(s) below the cut

[lunentity]

𓉸✙ limacerie ┈ a gender connected to liminal spaces set in bakeries. this gender can feel sweet yet eerie & unreal, causing derealization. day 02 of @puriette ’s event, the prompts used being derealization & bakeries.

[follow-the-compass-home]

Karl and Sapnap become a new superhero team and are tasked with capturing Quackity. It should be easy, except life is never quite that simple.

Title from Margaret Atwood's 'They travel by air' from the anthology 'Power Politics'.

AU: Superhero AU

Genre: Angst, Humor, Fluff, Fantasy?

WC: 18,273 words

Relationship: Karlnapity

Language: English

Status: Finished, 6/6

Warnings: Fighting, burns, fires, slight derealization (dream), treatment of burn injury, inappropriate comments, implied death, guns, gun wounds, mentions of death, mentions of the end of the world, nightmares, memory confusion (I don't exactly know how to phrase this one), identity/existential crisis

[luc1d-n1ghtm4res]

[junjunjunko]

Degrees of Lewdity HORROR AU.

Another remake of an old piece, this time the Horror AU one.

Heavily inspired in The Mandela Catalogue, for obvious reasons.

A clearer version down below!

[possuminnit]

I think if we picked live, he would have died anyways - this tweet sort of backs up that claim. also, every choice we have ever made in all 3 of the streams never mattered, they never changed anything. it was just for show

ss of the tweet, also

[hiro-doodlez]

Sometimes, it feels like forgetting would be so much easier.

Please lemme know if theres any more cw/tws i should add!!!