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it didn't seem bad. a seemingly artificial wound where her stomach was. sick bay was overloaded--there was no need to wait, she thought. she could go to her room and patch it herself. really, it felt like nothing.
the more she walked--the more aggravated it had become. slowly bleeding into her stomach lining. as soon as she stepped foot into her room, she felt it. such a foreign liquid within, hand flew over her mouth, calla immediately retching. a few drops of blood escaped from in between her fingers, the engineer frantically running to her bathroom.
shit. shit, shit, shit.
bloody hand wiped over the door on her way there, heavy breaths taken while she braced herself over the sink. oh no. she looked down, seeing just how blood soaked the area around the wound was now. more blood came up her throat, coating the sink. it was dark and rich in color.
heartbeat drummed in her ears, eyes wide while she tried to stand up straight. she'd messed up badly. underestimating a stab wound and now it could be deadly.
" f---uck. FUCK ! " palm slammed against the sink, throwing up blood once more, again and again. until she was coughing it up constantly. here she was--hoping it would stop enough for her to let herself out of the bathroom.
body began to grow weak, calla slowly lowering herself to the floor while breaths started to get shallow. it was everywhere. the sink, the floor-- her clothes, down her chin and chest. a hand covered the wound, attempting to apply pressure with what little energy she had left.
in her delusional state, she heard his voice, calla sitting right up. her thought process was: he couldn't see this. it was too much. even though she was actively bleeding out--he could not see this.
eyes welled up with tears, lips quivering while she weakly cried out to him. " don't-- " she couldn't even finish before she coughed up more blood, spitting it out as fast as she could to finish her sentence. taking a deep breath to get the words out. she sat on the floor, body held up by the glass of her shower.
It's okay if sometimes you cannot stand a smell or a sound.
It's not just that you may be overwhelmed by emotions and anxiety or any other event (and therefore bearing with strong noises, smells, lights or any other random but heavy sensory impulse gets harder), it could be a specific smell or sound hitting you out of nowhere (or in a specific context).
In this latter case, it's probably cause it can relate to a specific triggering and hurting event for you. And your mind wants to save you from it (and the pain it caused you) by sending you this impulse of "I cannot stand this smell/I can't breath", from example, and trying to move you away from its source. It could easily appear together with strong physical impulses as gagging reflexes or something.
When that happens, listen to your mind/body and get away from it, if you can. And try to calm down by regulating your breath and moving your toughts away from the trigger. Do not be scared of this experience: again, it's your mind that wants to save you but there's no actual danger anymore. Remind yourself about it. It's not your fault and it wasn't your fault, no matter what and who it is related to (if you can recall that). It's a trigger, and it was a very tough experience for sure. But you survived it. And it's okay if you still carry this trigger with you, you can bear with it (and if you want or need to get over it, ask for help to a professional figure). Just be aware of what it is about and do not worry cause you're safe now. It's gone.
the broom closet antiques & pawn shop
ft. @pcisxnivysâ
for a local oddities shoppe that was the only of its kind ( worth visiting in anchorage ), it certainly seemed to have a rotating stock to pique the interest while simultaneously urging a shiver to slide down oneâs spine. especially for the frequent customers it found itself, including the dark duo. of course, there was the normie that would come in and look like a sore sight amongst the dusty and foreboding interior, crammed with shelving and its wares. but when fallon and atticus entered, it was as though they ought to be amongst the antiques, fitting the persona. still, it didnât escape fallon â who would browse to simply kill time and realize the new cracked façade of a porcelain doll with eyes would follow her â that there was something strange here in order to replenish its ceaseless supply.
setting back a grimoire written in pagan symbols and peculiarly stained with dark fingerprints on some of the pages, the dark femme casted a glance along the creaky floorboards to her companion. this was supposed to be one of their few outings that didnât include a tattoo gun, but she couldnât help but feel a little bristled. it wasnât enough that she had spent enough time trying to bury the imagery of finding her high school friend where he shouldnât be. but now... it was a little hard to look at him without the fresh appearance of blood on his clothes and face. it wasnât his, he assured her, but it didnât lessen the trigger. ugh, she had triggers, a fact she would vehemently deny if confronted about, but couldnât lie enough to convince herself that she wasnât above the affliction unlike anybody else on this planet. blinking, atticusâs eyes bore into hers from down the way, holding his recent find in his hands with an air of expectance for some sort of answer.
Did we just get ?triggered? by a she-ra clip/edit? What the hell? W h y? I'm so confused but now our brain is doing the whole bad-thoughts-thing so ?what?
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So I havenât even come close to finishing the Underworld series but I am a simp and have shit to work through so hush. The theme of this one is that you get anxious and cry when somebody yells in anger. Lucian doesnât yell around you for this reason, but while berating somebody else he forgets youâre there and shouts. Comfort and apologies ensue. @lunarmultishineâ
âLook at you,â Lucian grinned. âAbsolutely adorable, my love,âÂ
You blushed, hiding your face from Lucian. âNo,â You whined, dragging out the word. âIâm not, you are,âÂ
âI disagree, you are the epitome of all things adorable, I am a mangy mutt compared to you,â Lucian pulled you closer and nuzzled into your neck. âI am most certain of it,âÂ
You squeaked, batting at Lucian. âStop it!âÂ
âMhm, but you look so cute when I do this,â Lucian smiled against your throat, giving it feathery kisses.Â
You were about to say something to try and fluster Lucian back, but a knock at the door interrupted you.Â
âReally?â Lucian sighed and let go of you gently. âIâll be right back love,â
You settled back down, watching Lucian go. You wondered who couldâve wanted to see Lucian at this hour, but the thought passed quickly.Â
There was the sound of people talking, of which, the only one you could discern was Lucianâs. It was nice, almost lulling you to sleep.Â
It would have as well, if it werenât for the shout that made you jolt up.Â
âYou goddamned idiot!â Lucian shouted.Â
Your heart rate shot up, and your blood felt like itâd been replaced with adrenaline.Â
âOne, just one, bloody fucking job! And you still manage to fail!âÂ
You tried to breathe, slow and careful, like Lucian had done with you, like you had taught yourself. Lucian wasnât angry with you, this wasnât about you-
âWhy do you even try?!âÂ
You stood up, looking for something to clean, even if it was just the smallest thing you had to do something. Even if it got you into trouble because it always did, even if it made things worse. Just, something to do.Â
You began washing glasses, trying not to cry, even as the shouting continued.Â
As you were putting away a glass, something hit the ground and made a thudding sound.Â
Iâm sorry Iâm sorry Iâm sorry-
You barely noticed the glass shattering on the floor, or the silence that followed it. You tried to pick up the shards, even through the tears, or the blood.Â
Why were you like this you werenât hurt that bad itâs just a damn glass he wasnât angry with you why were you so weak stop being so dramatic-
âLove?â A soft voice stopped your train-wreck of a mind. âOh, love,â Lucian hurried and knelt beside you.Â
âI-Iâm, Iâm s-sorry,â You choked out, trying to wipe some of the tears away but only getting blood on your face instead.Â
âLove, my love,â Lucian took your hands into his, not minding the blood. âThereâs nothing to be sorry for,âÂ
âBut, l-look at the mess, I-I-â You couldnât finish the sentence, breaking down into Lucianâs arms.Â
He held you tight. âNothing my love, nothing. Itâs fine,âÂ
He waited for you to finish crying, rocking you gently, whispering sweet nothings to you.Â
âFeeling better?â Lucian asked.Â
You nodded slightly.Â
âDo you think youâre ready to move from the floor?â Lucian cupped your face with his hand.Â
You nodded again. Lucian scooped you up, causing you to squeak.
âIâve got you darling,â Lucian smiled.Â
âThe glass-â You started, but Lucian interrupted.Â
âIâll get it love, your hands are bleeding,â He carried you back out to the couch, laying you down softly. âItâs alright, let me take care of it, no what ifs,âÂ
You hardly had room to argue, and didnât say anything as he cleaned and bandaged your hands. He even removed the dry blood from your face.Â
âThere,â Lucian smiled. âBetter. Now, what got you into such a state love?âÂ
You looked away. âItâs stupid,âÂ
Lucian gently made you face him again. âNo it isnât,âÂ
You sighed. âYou were upset with someone, and you started shouting, and it sounded like something hit the floor, Iâm sorry-âÂ
âNothing to be sorry for,â Lucian interrupted. âIâm the one who should be sorry, making you so upset,âÂ
âItâs fine you didnât mean to-âÂ
âIt still upset you love,â Lucian sighed. âIt hurt you, and it doesnât matter what I meant because it still hurt you,â
âItâs not your fault Iâm like this,â You mumbled.Â
âLove, you donât have to pretend itâs okay, that youâre okay, itâs okay,â Lucian looked at you tenderly.Â
âShut it,â You mumbled, burying your face into Lucianâs neck.Â
Et alors qu'il clĂŽturait sa pirouette Biellman avec brio cette ombre noire, lĂ , par-delĂ les panneaux de sponsors, captura sa vision. Et il faillit flancher mais tint bon, comme il savait toujours le faire, parfois le faire.
Hey folks donât forget to read the tags on a fic because the tags are there to protect you. I forgot to do that and I really should have read the tags because the fic had one of my major triggers and the author tagged it which if I had read the tags I would have known that was a fic that I should not have read.
Me reading it is entiernly on me. The tags were there for my own protection and I just put myself out of commission for the day because I didnât read the tags.
I know sometimes we get relaxed and skip reading tags but we always need to read them. Learn from my mistakes okay.