There were some things that overrode the pup’s aversion to strangers. The scent she had caught happened to be one of them. On top of the person’s rapid breathing.
They weren’t a complete stranger. She saw them at the party while following around Murk like a little shadow.
Closer and closer she got until she was right beside them. The reflective part of her vest catching in the light.
BOOP
A gentle nudge of her nose against their shin. Then another before jade eyes lifted to meet theirs. “Sit. Gibbie help.”
Her words came with a paw at their leg, waiting until they took to the floor to climb into their lap and settle in. Deep pressure therapy helped these. They helped Light.
((Medical alert pup to the rescue for panic attacks))
[Panic (But Not at The Disco). || Accepting!]
Ash had been about to take off. About to run, to go wild through the base until they found something. Anything. Anyone.- Their heart felt as though it was about to be crushed, their lungs unable to get enough oxygen. Nothing but panic and terror, dragging them down into an all-too-familiar abyss.
The reflection managed to hit their eyes, first- catching them for the briefest moment, long enough for a nose to press against their shin. Barely-aware but too aware, their head had snapped down so hard they'd felt their neck crack. Trying to steady their own breathing couldn't panic around a stranger shouldn't- but their body refused.
The brunet couldn't run. Not with a paw pressed gently to their leg. A simple command that had them slumping, almost collapsing like a pile of sticks to the floor. Didn't want to be seen like this,
Don't let me die please don't, please, I'm sorry-
Unaware they were starting down their mantra, as a weight settled in their lap. The barely-begun frightened whispers of 'sorry' had barely started before they were fracturing, falling apart. Real.- Real and present and God,...
Ash would be lying to say they'd not whimpered. They'd not briefly begged- but the fluffy one resting in their hold, the feel of another's heartbeat, of another's breathing....
They were starting to steady. Their heart still clenched deep in their chest, their fist pressed over their front as if they could force it to calm- but their breathing began to go down.
"...th-.....thank you..." Like a building about to shake apart, only for the earthquake to halt just before the foundations could snap. Their eyes remained open. Didn't want to see darkness. Didn't want to see nothing. "...'m sorry, I..."
Their other hand gripped at their side. Felt the fabric against their hold. Present, just...focus on that. They were still shuddering. Like a leaf in a storm, but at least the storm was easing up.
aka me projecting my mental illness onto the silly turtle
♤◇♧♡
The air in Bowser's castle was thick with dark smoke. Crimson and orange flames ate away at the castle walls. Panic spread throughout as Bowser, Kamek, and the kids evacuated.
Normally, the Koopa Crystals atop Mount Hades and Mount Lucifer completely nullify the effects of heat and smoke, but since this fire wasn't biological or geological in nature, the fire was able to harm adult Dragon Koopas and kill juveniles, and the smoke was able to kill even Bowser.
The king did a headcount as he got outside and found that Iggy, Lemmy, and Morton were missing. He heard footsteps and looked over. To his horror, the three had ran back inside.
Iggy was on a mission. He knew that Chompy was scared of loud noises and hid in inaccessable spots when the smoke detector activated. His brothers tried to get him to turn around, but he didn't listen. He found Chompy in a hard-to-reach gap and tried to grab her.
"Chompy, I'm here, girl. Iggy's here."
Chompy didn't move.
"C'mere, girl!" Iggy called out.
She still didn't move.
Iggy reached out and grabbed her glowing red chain. It was so hot he didn't register that it was more malleable than usual. He flinched and yelped in pain, then sucked in some air between his teeth, completely forgetting about the smoke.
"Ow, fuck, why did I do that?" he choked out between his sharp coughs.
Unfortunately, Chompy didn't react to the fact that Iggy was visibly and audibly in pain. She had always snuggled up by him when he was hurt, so why wasn't she comforting him now?
"She's... she's... no... no!"
"Iggy." a squeaky voice said. It was Lemmy, who had sat next to Iggy on the sofa.
Chompy would be dead. It would be my fault.
"Iggy."
Chompy'd be dead. She'd be gone. She'd be melted. And it'd be my fault for not supervising her.
"Iggy."
I'm safe. This is all a hypothetical. But what if it does happen?
"Iggy!" Lemmy snapped. He felt bad for snapping at Iggy whilst he was panicking, but he didn't know what else to do. Iggy was in his own world.
Iggy gasped and looked over towards his older brother. His throat hurt from breathing heavily and nearly crying. Lemmy looked at him concernedly and petted Chompy, who was on the sofa, sitting between them.
Iggy laughed relievedly and hugged Chompy, who barked happily and licked his face.
"Ack! Not my mouth!" he yelped.
Lemmy giggled as Iggy sputtered and coughed in disgust. He was glad he wasn't panicking anymore, even if he was the unfortunate victim of a Chain Chomp French kiss.
"You okay? Both for the panic attack and the Chomp lick?"
"Blegh... yeah..." Iggy groaned as he stuck his tongue out. "I'mma go rinse my mouth."
Iggy went to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. He was used to it; Chomps are basically huge metal dogs.
He walked back, checking each electric outlet on the way for malfunctions. This one's warmer than usual (which is normal when something's plugged in), it will spontaneously combust. This one had a spark (which is normal when things get plugged in), it'll burn the castle down in my sleep.
His heartrate began to speed up and his eyes began to dart to various areas to check for fire hazards. Cut it out, stupid, there's no fire. I know, but they can start so fast! That looks like smoke! You're being delusional. I know, but it's hard to control my worrying thoughts. It smells like smoke, why does it smell like smoke? You live in the Darklands, idiot. But the Koopa Crystal turns naturally-produced smoke into water vapor, so it can't be that!
"Iggy!!!" Lemmy shouted excitedly, trying to distract him. "Wanna play Mario Kart?"
"Sure, but first, I should check the outlets again, I think it smells smoky."
"It's just dinner cooking. C'mon, you gotta resist your urges! Let's play Mario Kart!"
Iggy decided to be vulnerable and went back to the living room to play Mario Kart with Lemmy. He won a few races, and he lost a few races, but he had fun.
The panic kept coming back, and Iggy assumed it was just his anxiety disorder finding something to hyperfocus on, now that he was much more confident in himself, and his appearance wasn't able to be majorly stressed about. The vivid what-if thoughts were a frequent occurance. He tried to act normal around everyone, save for Lemmy, and denied that something was obviously wrong.
Eventually he realized he needed help and made an appointment to talk to a psychiatrist. He was so ready to stop feeling these urges to check anything that could be a fire hazard. He felt better, knowing he'd probably be able to get treatment for whatever the heck was tormenting him.
// I'm mostly lurking around until I get back to normal.
Long short story, last sunday something triggered my anxiety and gone into panic mode. Probably some words related to my past or something.. I can't remember to be honest.
But I'm taking it easy until I'm feeling better. So lurking for now.
Gonna be honest, I didn’t proofread this because my hands are pretty shaky rn as is so I’ll edit it if it’s bad
But @local-squishmallow I have your prison sequel ready : )
Content warnings: soft, safe, g/t vore, character terrified, character believing he is going to die, mentions of torture and description of panic attacks.
Tread lightly, but know it gets fluffy at the end : )
George felt better, now that he actually had something in his system. It wasn’t perfect, but it would be enough for now. Surely Sapnap would come back to get him more food- The small being in his hand fidgeted straight out of it, tumbling to the mattress. Right, and now he had to worry about that as well. “Where are you going, Dream?” “I-“ the blonde stiffened in fear, turning back to the other as to not seem disobedient. “I was going to-to get you more food.” “I don’t think you’ll make it down the stairs. Just stay here for now, Sapnap will come back and make something.”
Trembling harshly, he forced himself back to the brunette’s side, stepping out of the way as he laid down. “I think we both just need to sleep, really.” He scooped the shrunken man up, frowning at the intense shivers wracking his form, and cupping him to his chest. He was a little too tired to worry about the other’s emotions, figuring he’d do damage control later on.
When he woke up, Dream was sleeping, finally relaxing for the first time since he’d been caught. He wasn’t going to wake him up, of course. He didn’t want to deal with the fearful reactions he’d no doubt have when awake; He still had quite a bit of recovering to do himself, and he didn’t have it in him to take on more emotional baggage when he still felt weak and starving. Keeping the tiny admin to his chest, he got up and carefully made his way to the kitchen to make something to eat.
Dream began to stir as George finished reheating a bowl of rabbit stew, eyes snapping open and tensing up as he was gently placed on the table. The bowl was set a little ways away, the human holding two spoons. “I- I could have gotten you something if you were hungry..” He gripped one of his arms tightly, trying to pull himself together. If they wanted him dead, he’d already be dead. He had to keep reminding himself of that. They weren’t Quackity, they weren’t torturing him or drawing it out. It didn’t stop the shivers wracking his form, or his heart hammering painfully against his sore rib cage.
“Rabbit stew isn’t hard to make. Besides, it’s leftovers. I think Tina made it.” Dipping a spoon into the bowl, he gathered a generous amount of the stew before pulling it back out and setting it in front of Dream. The shrunken admin scrambled back, eyes wide as he stared down at the spilt broth. “What-“ “You need to eat too. Obviously you were starving.” Dream flinched harshly at the comment, sitting where he was and dipping his head down. With a sigh, George carefully nudged the spoon closer to the man. “It’s not poisoned, or whatever you’re thinking. Look.” He dipped his own spoon into the bowl, scooping up a similar amount he’d given Dream before popping it into his mouth.
“See? Not poisonous. I'd be taking damage if it was.” With that being said, he continued to eat, taking his attention off of the other. He knew Dream wouldn’t run. It didn’t stop the speedrunner from running through his head, however. The small form in front of him was Dream, through and through, but at the same time it wasn’t. This wasn’t his friend. This wasn’t the man who he’d joked around and playfully fought with. This wasn’t the man who had put him on the throne and then removed him without hesitation. This wasn’t the fearless, determined Dream he remembered. And it bothered him greatly.
~ ~ ~
Slowly, very very slowly, but surely, Dream was coming back to him. He stopped teasing the blonde, only asking necessary questions to keep him calm. He let Dream make the first, shaky, nervous jab, and he made sure not to react badly to it. The relief he felt from watching Dream’s shoulders drop so abruptly was almost euphoric, and he was sure to text Sapnap about the progress he made. He didn’t know how the fireborn felt about the other, his expression and movements unreadable every time he visited. He knew it intimidated Dream, and it was likely the point, but it didn’t make George feel any better about it.
After that initial jab, Dream loosened up significantly, and within a week it was like before. Granted, Dream was still tiny, and George still carried him to and from places and ensured he stayed hidden, but the two were on better terms. At least he wasn’t shying away anymore. He’d even started hanging out with George while he cooked, granted a little ways away from the stove.
At least, until it all came to an abrupt end. The two were laughing, Dream moving to lean against the mug beside him to catch his breath before yelping in surprise as the mug slid right off the counter, almost taking him with it. Collapsing onto the counter, he froze completely as the ceramic dish shattered on the floor, George backing up out of instinct. “Oh, shoot.” He mumbled, turning away to find a broom to sweep it up.
Dream stared at the shattered mug, eyes clouding over with fear. He’d messed up. He stepped out of line, he ruined everything, Sapnap was gonna kill him- he could only watch as George returned, sweeping up the broken pieces and tossing them in the trash. He hadn’t noticed how Dream had not gotten back up until he put the broom and dustpan away, deciding it would be safer to go hang out in the living room until the bread was done baking.
He recoiled harshly at the offered hand, and it was only then that he noticed how the blonde was acting off. “Dream..? What’s going on?” Don’t answer, don’t make it worse on yourself- “Dream!?” George was worrying, the tiny man’s chest was heaving as he hyperventilated, and his mouth was twisted shut, likely to keep anything from escaping. Trying to get a closer look at him made him recoil again, and this time he noticed the glazed over, fearful look in his eyes.
“Oh...” He brought his hands up, wincing when the other flinched, carefully scooping him into the middle of both palms. “Shh, Dream. You’re okay. It’s okay..” he kept his hands as steady as possible as he moved them to the living room, sitting on the sofa and bringing him to his chest as he moved the fearful tiny to only one hand. His other hand fumbled to get his communicator, sending a quick message to Sapnap before shutting it off and tossing it away.
“Dream, you gotta breathe, okay? Breathe with me.” He ran his thumb up and down the tiny admin’s back, trying to sooth him. “Please..” he whimpered, and George froze. “Please what, Dream?” “Please make it quick-“ he failed to choke back a sob, and that had dissolved the last of his resolve. He sobbed fearfully into the brunette’s shirt, barely pulling in a breath before another cry jerked his chest.
Sapnap had quietly entered, closing the door with barely a click and heading straight towards the sofa. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know, we were just hanging out in the kitchen and then he just started panicking. I mean, a mug fell, maybe the noise scared him?” The fireborn frowned, reaching out to take the shrunken man from him, but pulled back harshly when Dream shrieked. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, I’ll do better, it won't happen again, please-“ “Dream, what are you talking about?” Sapnap’s voice stayed calm, quiet, like how he remembers him speaking to Karl when he was having memory problems.
“Please don’t hurt me..” George winced, and Sapnap’s frown grew larger at the comment. “Dream, tell me what happened.” The brunette went to mention that the blonde had only started shaking worse at the demand, but Dream had beaten him to speaking. “We- we were making bread, and George put it in the oven, and we were laughing about something, and then I-I tried to lean against a cup and it fell and I ruined it, I just don’t want to die I’m sorry-“ “Dream, take a deep breath in.”
He didn’t speak again until Dream had managed to do so. “Alright, breathe out.” He waited until the other let out a shuddery breath, then repeated the process. George counted up to fifteen times before Sapnap felt confident enough to stop, Dream breathing normally on his own. “Right, so you accidentally knocked a mug over. Why would you think we’d kill you for that?” “You said.. you said if I messed up you’d kill me.” The fireborn’s brow quirked at the sentence, sadness clouding his eyes. “Yeah? I also said I’d kill you if you escaped. Has it happened?” “No, but-“ “I’m not gonna kill you over an accident.” “He would have..” he whimpered, ducking away when Sapnap blinked. “Who?” “Q-Quackity..”
As if the mere mention of the man summoned him, there was a knock at the door. Carefully passing Dream back to George, Sapnap went to answer it, keeping his expression blank when he came face to face with his ex-fiancé as it opened. “Sapnap.” “Quackity.” He could hear George get up, walking towards the stairs. “What brings you two here?” “Looking for Dream still. What else?” “Geez, it’s like your whole life revolves around him now.” He tried to joke, but the look souring on the avian’s face told him it didn’t land. “Even if it did, whose fault would that be?” And then the man was trying to push past him, and he put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back a step.
“Let me at least tell George you’re here, he doesn’t do well with surprise visits, especially since he’s sick.” Quackity’s eye narrowed, but he relented. “One minute, Sapnap.” He nodded and closed the door in the duo’s faces, making a beeline to the stairs and up to George’s room. He found the two huddled under the covers of his bed, looking up at him with fear before recognizing him. “We need to hide him.” George whispered. “No time.” Sapnap whispered back, carefully pulling the shrunken man out of the brunette’s grasp. A confused look met him, but he shook his head. “Trust me.”
And then he popped the other in his mouth and George shot up like a bullet, intent on stopping him but the front door opened and he groaned, looking at the fireborn warily. When he held his hands up in a placating matter, nothing but concern in his eyes, he relented, leaving the room to go confront the others. Sapnap swallowed, deeming the other slick enough with his panicked movements, before joining them downstairs. He had to ignore the pangs in his heart while the other simply sobbed, not even trying to fight back.
He wasn’t in his stomach. Sapnap had a different anatomy than his human friends, and even if Dream had been safe in George’s stomach he wasn’t gonna risk it. He put the other in his storage pouch, a second hollow organ just to the side of his stomach. Dream was small enough that he would be completely unnoticeable.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stayed at the edge of the living room, watching the tension between George and Quackity for a moment. The two were close enough to be in each other’s faces, throwing insults back and forth. Sam noticed Sapnap first, and gave Quackity a nudge. Quackity turned his glare to him, then to where Sam nodded at, before turning back to George with a huff. “If you’re not hiding him, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Without a word more, he entered the house more, beginning his search. Sam awkwardly joined, and George went to Sapnap’s side and threw his head against his shoulder. Before the fireborn could get a quip in about what he’d walked into, the brunette growled into his shirt. “If he isn’t safe, I swear to prime Sapnap-“ Resting his head atop George’s, he whispered back. “He is.” The tension oozed out of the Brit, and it took a lot to keep his tense and annoyed look up as the prison guards brushed past them to search the rest of his house.
“How are you certain?” “Wait until they leave.” Sapnap didn’t raise his voice above a whisper, even though the duo that had broken in had already finished climbing the stairs. “What makes them think he’s here anyway?” He then raised his voice, trying to make it seem like they were simply complaining and not scheming for being too quiet. “It’s me, Sapnap. What do you think?” “Maybe if you didn’t flirt with him so often-“ “Oh, fuck off with that, Sap. I don’t wanna hear it right now.” The anger seemed genuine, so Sapnap relented with a soft apology. A smile graced the brunette’s face. “Just playing along.” He whispered back.
Sapnap was going to say something more, but was abruptly cut off by a shout from upstairs. “That little shit!” Before either of them could do anything, worried they’d seen something of the shrunken man’s, Quackity stormed past them and out of the house, Sam in tow with a determined look in his eye. The two could only stare at the ajar door for a moment, shock settling in. Finally, George snapped out of it, moving to close the door. “Dream?” Sapnap asked, moving a hand to his stomach and gently pressing in. “I.. sent them a text. Told them I could see them through George’s window.” He smirked at the response. “Good thinking. You ready to come up?” “I guess.. I’m just-“ he cut himself off, thinking how to phrase his question.
“Just..?” He prompted the other. “Are.. you okay? Your stomach hasn’t done anything since you ate me. I thought,” he laughed bitterly, tears falling once more. “I thought you were trying to kill me.” “Sorry, Dream. I wasn’t gonna hurt you, I just didn’t have time to explain. They were at the door and already pushing into the house, we had to be fast or you were gonna get found.” “Right, but is your stomach okay?” “My stomach’s fine. You’re not in my stomach.”
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” George was in disbelief, and Sapnap smiled. “Let me bring Dream up, and I’ll explain.”
~ ~ ~
With Dream wrapped up in a soft washcloth after being rinsed off, the trio returned to the couch. “So, I’m not human. You guys already know that.” “Yeah?” Dream looked over the hands cradling him, nodding at the fireborn. “My biology’s different from humans, it’s better suited for the nether. Me and Bad both. So we have this pouch that we can store stuff in. Bad used to use it for me when we still lived in the nether, but most people use it to keep their treasure from melting.”
“And it’s.. safe?” “Attached to airways, closed off from everything else, except my throat.” Sapnap shrugged. “I know it’s weird, and I didn’t mean to scare you guys that bad. But..” his eyes trailed back to the door.
“I don’t know what Quackity’s done to you, Dream. Just based on your reaction to the mug earlier, I can tell it was bad. Besides,” he chuckled humorously. “I couldn’t kill you even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. It’s not like you can do much damage like this, and we still don’t know how it happened.” “Oh. I, uh, did this. I messed with my code, I just had to get out of there, I was so sure he was going to kill me that last time and-“ His breathing had begun to stutter, a small tremble rising back up in the shrunken form.
“It’s okay, Dream. I’m not gonna let him get you again.” “You mean we, George.” Sapnap reached a hand out, keeping it distant from the smaller but close enough that he could see the intention. “But.. he’s your fiancé..” “He ditched us. Well, I guess he didn’t mean to, but he and Karl got into it pretty bad. He hasn’t been the same since El Rapids, honestly.” He sighed. “Oh.. I’m sorry, Sap.” The fireborn simply shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it now. My home’s here, and whatever he’s done to you makes me wonder what all he’s been up to anyway. Clearly, it can’t be good.”
“What do you mean, you can’t kill me?” Dream’s brows had furrowed, the sentence lingering on his mind. “I.. don’t think I can answer that. Not without getting smited or something.” “Oh..” “And like I said earlier, that was if I wanted to. I don’t wanna kill you, Dream. You did some fucked up shit, yea, but you’re still my friend. Plus, I trust you’ve probably learned your lesson..” he grimaced as he said it, and Dream nodded grimly. “More than enough, yea. It’s not like I was gonna leave the kid dead anyway, there was a reason I was keeping the revival book. Besides, I don’t wanna be anywhere near him. Not at normal height, if I can even undo this code change, and absolutely not at this size.”
“That’s a fair point.” George mused, gently brushing the blonde’s hair with a finger. “He can’t do much if there’s nothing for him to fight against. He’ll keep bothering people, but I think the rest of us know not to react cause that’s what he wants.” “Easy for you to say, it’s not your world that was getting messed up or your friends- never mind.” “What? Dream, what were you gonna say?” George prompted, but gently, and kept his movements going to show he wasn’t bothered, just curious.
“I.. was just gonna say it wasn’t your friends getting tormented by that little gremlin but that’s kinda silly to say.” Dream looked down sheepishly. “Since a lot of them are your friends.” “That’s fair, but you also have a point. I’m not an admin, I can’t control anything that happens in this world. I can only imagine how stressed that makes you, you’re the only one.. aren’t you?” “There’s not many others, I think.. maybe two.” “Then, yea. You’re essentially running the world yourself, of course you’re gonna get bothered if someone starts messing with it.”
“Wait.” Sapnap interrupted the conversation, mind stuck on the ‘if’ Dream had mentioned. “You don’t know if you can undo this?” “I don’t. I’ve never done anything like this before, Sapnap.” The implication of that sunk in heavily, and a feeling akin to dread crept up his spine. Dream could be stuck tiny forever. He was already at risk, but it morphed to danger as soon as he’d shrunk. And he could be in danger for the rest of his life. George had a similar look in his eyes, and his hands only tightened around the other.
“Then we’ll make the most of it.” He looked at Sapnap, and the worry in his eyes steeled his resolve. “We will. We’ll do our best to get you back to your normal size, but if we can’t, then we’re not gonna let it stop us from having fun.”
He grinned down at the smaller man, determination flooding his body at the hesitant, hopeful grin he got back from the smaller man. “We’re gonna make the most of it.”
Small bonus:
Dream was shivering when Sapnap woke up, the brunette beside him still dead asleep. “Dream?” He whispered carefully. “Sorry, I’m freezing…” he answered softly, tiredly. The fireborn frowned. It was pretty cold outside, with it being winter. He gently scooped the other up, bringing him up towards his neck. “Is that better?” “A little.. thank you.” With a soft smile, Sapnap had started to drift back to sleep, only to be stirred awake once more by a small voice.
“It’d be a lot warmer in his pouch..” It was obviously not meant for him to hear, more so just Dream mumbling to himself, but it didn’t go unheard. “We can do that if you want. Don’t wanna scare you again though.” Dream flinched, sitting back up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-“ “I sleep lightly, Dream. It’s okay.” He didn’t say anything more, letting the smaller man think about the offer. “Well.. it’s not like I don’t know it’s safe..” the fireborn hummed softly. “I’d like a definite answer, though. I don’t want to scare you.” Dream didn’t think about it for much longer. “Yeah. We can do that if you’re okay with it.”
It did not take long once he had permission, and only moments after was Dream settled down in his pouch, the faint earthy taste lingering on the back of Sapnap’s tongue as he settled back down with a content sigh. They’d have to tell George what happened, but if Dream was okay with this arrangement, Sapnap couldn’t help but be eager to do it again.
continued with @miidnighters (x)
-> gore cw, cannibalism cw, blood cw, dismemberment cw, violence cw, horror cw panic cw, dry-heaving cw
They couldn't stop. They just kept going--bashing and ripping and tearing and eating, their clothes drenched in the rich blood, the walls sprayed with it. It seeped into the cracks in the floor, dipped down Arthur's elbows. So much blood.
It wasn't beautiful, it wasn't neat, and it certainly wasn't his usual way of feeding. It was desperate and painful and deliberate. Like he needed them to be dead--more than dead. Gone. Something in his eyes screamed of anger, dread, fear...And that wretched hunger.
He didn't quite stop when she called his name, bashing the guy's head in until the skull split open, the face disfigured, teeth marks covering his cheeks and arms, legs torn from his torso...Tears were streaming down Arthur's face, though they had mixed with so much blood it was impossible to tell. Their weapon finally clattered to the ground, bending over to rip more flesh from the body's throat--tearing, swallowing, spitting, growling, blood gurgling in the back of his own throat. It wasn't until she called them darling that they finally managed to stop.
Out of breath, broken, and dripping with blood, he froze where he was crouched over the body. A piece of flesh hung from his mouth, caught between his teeth. He spit it out almost immediately, blood splattering the ground in front of him and instantly mixing in with the rest of the mess. Turquoise hues landed on the disembodied form in front of him, the horrific display of the elder man's half-eaten insides making his stomach churn. For a moment, he thought he might just puke up his meal, his gag reflex kicking in immediately, but no...Nothing would come up. Bloodied hands grasped against the vinyl flooring, making a sticky wet squelch as his fingertips curved against the puddles of blood, nails pressing into the floor.
"Fuck...Fuck, fuck, fuck...He--He--It was...I-- I saw--I...thought--"
His thoughts wouldn't fit together. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. What had just happened? He had practically blacked out and could only remember what had happened when he first arrived at the old man's house. He remembered the plan--and this hadn't been it.
this is real , i’m real . look at me . / Simon for Richie
Sometimes the nightmares he faces can be particularly rough. A trauma played out differently, and the world spiraling down the darker path. Memory twisting into something even more awful than reality. There aren't many worse than the ones where he loses Simon.
By the time Simon manages to rouse him from this one, Richie's past the point of spiraling. He wakes caught somewhere between denial and bargaining, with the horrible certainty that Simon is gone. He's gone, and this is... his mind's still trying to make sense of it. Simon is dead, they left him there, and he's-
Here? It doesn't make sense. They'd sworn themselves to each other. The rest of their lives. Gone together or not at all. Did Simon really leave him behind?
A sob wracks his frame as Richie latches onto the first offered point of contact.
He clings to Simon's arms like a lifeline, fingers digging in with enough force that Simon will surely bruise. With shallow, erratic breathing, and face wet with tears, Richie can't yet manage full, coherent sentences. Really, it's little more than panting panic given vocalizations.
It was so real. The worst ones always are.
Cold snow at his back. The smell of oil and heated and torn metal. Cooling blood soaking through layers of clothing. The weight of Simon's body atop his, pinned together, helpless against his last wheezing breath.
Simon draws him in, and Richie folds without resistance into warmth and the all-encompassing smell of Simon. His mind gives up on trying to work out fact from fiction, swept away as Richie begins to cry in earnest into Simon's neck. If this is the dream, he doesn't want to wake up. The first coherent thought to spill from him becomes the only thing he can manage, strained and heartbroken, repeated over and over like a broken record, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Lucid was in the last place he expected to willingly go: Raphael’s place of practice. Ever since he was small, the seraphim loathed getting checkups and whatnot. Not that he hated Raph, far from it! He loved and adored his brother. Which is why whenever Lucid had to come in with injuries, it smarted that someone he loved and trusted could cause him more pain such as setting bones or sanitizing wounds before dressing them.
But here he was, trembling like a leaf on a brisk fall day, curled up beneath a patience bed. It was empty, no one occupying the room. The cramped dark space gave Lucuid a slight feeling of comfort, but still the panic did not subside. No matter if his eyes were open or closed, the horrors he had seen refused to faulted. And for the first time, the young seraphim feared Heaven. Breath hitched, Lucid squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered.
@jsbashirmd said: "Hey, hey hey, Garak, my love, I need you to breathe with me. squeeze my hands and take a big breath. Trust me."
COLD AIR SAPS OXYGEN FROM HIS LUNGS, STEALING EVERY BREATH HE TAKES. There's not enough space in the room, not enough air, but every cell in his body is fighting to breathe it in anyway, and it hurts. Each dizzying attempt to take a new breath only makes him shudder, chest tight and throat raw with his panting. He can't tell how long he's been here, bent over his workstation, trying pointlessly to control himself, to control the swirling panic in his head and the way his eyes flick from wall to wall. A disciplined mind ought to be able to work through this, and yet, it feels like he's been struggling for hours. It could've been mere minutes, though, for all he's able to accurately assess his surroundings and the passage of time. All he knows is this: "I can't--- breathe."
HE CAN SQUEEZE JULIAN'S HANDS. He's not sure when Julian got here, actually. He's not in the infirmary. But as he tries to recall, or figure a reason for his arrival, he finds every strand of thought evaporates too quickly for him to catch hold of it, replaced with the clawing grip of anxiety. He wobbles, and all at once, loses the ability to stand. His knees hit the floor hard, and it should hurt, but it registers only as a distant sting, knocking at the very furthest door of Garak's panic-filled consciousness. His grip on Julian's hands tightens, even as his chin drops, wide eyes fixing on the floor in front of him. Black hair, usually so sleek and immaculately styled, falls forward over his face.
