#baby's first panic attack

[basil-thoth]

Page 15: you’re not handling this well

Previous: Page 14

Next: Page 16

Masterpost here

Transcription under the cut:

Panel 1: [Blank panel]

Gaster’s Notes: IT IS DONE. THEY ASKED ME, BEGGED ME, SCREAMED AT ME TO STOP. WHEN I DID NOT, THEY CALLED OUT FOR THEIR “BROTHER” TO SAVE THEM. WHEN THEY DID NOT, THEY CALLED OUT FOR SOMEONE, ANYONE, TO HELP THEM. BUT NOBODY CAME.

Panel 2: [Gaster is sitting on the ground, in his dark grey sweater but sans the labcoat. His knees are up, with his right arm resting on his right knee, and with his left hand he is smoking a cigarette. His hand and shoulders are trembling slightly. There is a piece of paper laying next to him, and discarded used cigarettes are littered around his feet. He’s been smoking for a while.]

Gaster’s Notes: A LESSON WE MUST ALL LEARN AT SOME POINT…

Gaster’s Notes: IT IS DONE, AND I MUST ADMIT, A PART OF ME IS CURIOUS NOW WHAT THEY WILL DO. THEIR LIMITED WORLDVIEW MUST BE COMPLETELY SHATTERED. WHAT WILL THEY BUILD OUT OF THE PIECES?

Panel 3: [It’s the children’s drawing from earlier, the one Subject 2 drew on a worksheet. There is a hole burned right above Gaster’s head, and is overlapping his drawn face a bit.]

Gaster’s Notes: CAN THEY EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO THEM? HOW WILL THEY ADAPT TO THIS NEW PARADIGM? WHAT WILL CHANGE?

Panel 4: [Blank panel]

Subject 2: NNGH-! MY HAND HURTS, I CAN’T GET IT OFF- I HATE IT! I HATE IT, WHY DID HE DO THIS TO US???

Subject 1: i knew it, i knew it, i knew we shouldn’t- i knew we couldn’t trust him-

Subject 2: WHAT DID WE DO WRONG??? I DON’T UNDERSTAND, WE… WE WERE GOOD, WEREN’T WE?

Panel 5: [Subject 2 is sitting on a cot in the background, holding his injured hand in front of him. He’s clearly been crying for a while. Subject 1 is angrily pacing around the room, his skull also stained with tears.]

Subject 1: it wasn’t us, WE didn’t do anything wrong. it was HIM, he wanted to- to do this to us-

Panel 6: [Subject 2 is leaning against the wall, cradling the hand with the handplate and staring in disbelief]

Subject 2: MAYBE… MAYBE HE WAS WORRIED WE’D GET LOST, OR, OR, THEY’RE MAGIC AND WILL PROTECT US FROM SOMETHING OR-

Panel 7: [Subject 1 turns around and throws his hands up angrily.] 

Subject 1: are you serious?! how can you even say that?! how long were you screaming while he drilled that into you?!

[Subject 2 grips his hand and yells back.]

Subject 2: MAYBE HE HAD TO DO IT THAT WAY!!

Panel 8: [Subject 1 turns away, his eyesockets dark.] 

Subject 1: yeah, but not for the reason you think. we’re just things to him… he’s always said that.

[Subject 2 looks somewhat defeated.]

Panel 9: [Subject 1 throws his hands up again in emphasis.]

Subject 1: he doesn’t care about us- he’s never cared about us. he can do whatever he wants to us, and who’s going to stop him? no one even knows we’re down here, and it’s not like we can get out-

Panel 10: [Subject 1 comes to a shocking realisation. His eye lights shrink down and he presses his right hand to his skull, his other hand suspended in front of his chest.]

Subject 1: …god, oh my god… what is he going to do to us?

Panel 10: [Subject 2 brings his trembling hands up to his face. His eyes are wide in horror, and he’s still crying.]

Subject 1: this is just the beginning, isn’t it? this isn’t going to stop, it’s just- it’s just going to get worse-

Panel 11: [Subject 1 keeps talking until Subject 2 interrupts him, balling his hands into fists and starts yelling adamantly.]

Subject 1: oh god-

Subject 2: NO… NO, NO, HE WON’T! HE WON’T, HE’S NOT LIKE THAT! HE’S NOT- HE’S NOT GOING TO-

Panel 12: [Subject 1 throws his arms apart in frustration.] 

Subject 1: look at your hand, for god’s sake!! don’t you get what’s going on here?! don’t you get what we ARE to him??

[Subject 2 yells defensively.]

Subject 2: THAT’S NOT- THAT’S NOT WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN- HE’S NOT GOING TO HURT US ANYMORE!

Panel 13: [Subject 1 gesticulates wildly in the general direction of the doorway. Subject 2 is clutching his skull tightly and his eyes are screwed shut.]

Subject 1: are you JOKING?? what do you think just happened!!! what on earth do you think is going to make him STOP??

Subject 2: HE’S NOT- HE’S NOT GOING TO HURT US ANYMORE, I KNOW IT! I KNOW IT, HE HELPED ME ONCE, HE’S NOT A BAD PERSON, HE’S-

Panel 14: [Subject 1 points angrily to his handplate, his eyesockets again going dark.]

Subject 1: not a bad person except for these. open your eyes!! can’t you tell, he’s not going to stop, why would he? what has he ever done for us except-

Panel 15: [Subject 2 doesn’t even seem to be listening anymore, he’s crying again and clutching his skull]

Subject 2: HE’S NOT GOING TO- HE’S NOT- HE’S NOT- HE’S-

Panel 16: [Subject 2 gasps suddenly and clutches his chest as if he’s having a heart attack. His eyes open wide as he begins having a panic attack. 1 looks very caught off-guard.]

Subject 2: ggHHHHHHHHHHHH

Panel 17: [Subject 1 rushes to 2’s side and grabs his right hand. He looks apologetic. Subject 2 is still clutching his chest and starts hyperventilating, and his eyes light up their default warm orange color as his eyes pour more tears.]

Subject 1: woah, woah, woah, hey, are you okay? jeez- calm down, calm down, hey, can you hear me?

Panel 18: [Subject 1 pulls 2 into his chest, and Subject 2 leans into him, desperately clutching his arms. Subject 1 gets onto the cot with 2, and begins glowing his eyes blue to help calm him. Subject 1 strokes Subject 2’s skull. Subject 2 is still hyperventilating.]

Subject 1: hey, shhh, shh. calm down, come on. deep breaths, okay? i’m scared too, alright? but we’re okay, we’re both okay. i’ll figure something out, don’t worry. calm down.

Panel 19: [Subject 2 is still panicking but has managed to calm down, just a bit. Subject 1 envelops him in his arms, their eyes closing and still glowing.]

Subject 2: IT CAN’T, HE CAN’T… THERE HAS TO BE GOOD IN HIM. THERE HAS TO BE, THERE JUST HAS TO BE…

Subject 1: shhh, shhhhh, breathe, okay? just try to breathe.

Subject 2: HE HAS TO STOP, HE HAS TO STOP, HE HAS TO, HE… HE…

Panel 20: [Blank panel]

Subject 2: IT… IT WON’T GET ANY WORSE THAN THIS…

Subject 2: RIGHT…?

[Previous] [Next]

Spoilers: it does.

This would probably be the first time the two of them have seriously fought about something or raised their voices at each other. They’re both scared and in pain and aren’t really handling this well. No one is happy with this.

If you really want to feel bad, a lot of their conversation still works if they were talking about you the Player, haha.

[Index]

[antares-moth]

4. Né per un minuto né per un secondo

E se avessi solo voglia di piangere?

E se avessi solo voglia di urlare,

di strappare le cuciture del vestito di pelle

che non sembra più appartenermi,

di schiantarmi contro le pareti come una mina impazzita

finché non mi rompo,

finché il mio corpo non si frantuma in mille pezzi.

E se avessi solo voglia di rimanere sdraiata,

scomposta come una bambola di pezza,

riversa e senza forze,

senza prendermi la briga di rimettermi insieme

per un secondo o due,

un secolo o due.

E se avessi solo voglia di smettere di esistere per un po’,

di essere solo un giocattolo rotto

per un minuto o due,

per un giorno o due;

fare finta di avere il lusso di poter mollare,

fare finta di riuscire a sopravvivere senza respirare,

per non disturbare nessuno con i miei assordanti sospiri.

dentro e fuori,

ancora e ancora,

mentre l’aria mi ricorda che—mio malgrado—sono viva.

Mi lasceresti affogare nella mia miseria

per un’ora o due,

per una vita o due,

facendo finta di non conoscermi,

facendo finta che le circostanze non ti obblighino

a prestarmi aiuto ogni volta.

Mi faresti continuare da sola

mentre finalmente raccolgo le mie ossa rotte

e piano piano ricompongo ogni falange,

ogni piccola parte del meccanismo che mi costringe in piedi

anche quando voglio solo sciogliermi

e scorrere via tra le lacrime.

Ma soprattutto

fingeresti per me,

che ho tanta paura di vedermi fragile,

di non aver mai osservato con inorridita curiosità

mentre rimettevo ogni mia cellula al suo posto,

mentre mi lisciavo i vestiti,

mi sciacquavo la faccia,

mi sistemavo i capelli,

e scomparivo di nuovo

inghiottita nell'oceano di persone che è la quotidianità,

facendo finta che non fosse successo nulla,

facendo finta che il mio sorriso non si fosse mai scalfito,

né per un minuto né per un secondo

[didderd]

MY BELOVED—cough cough I mean uh...

Crack, sweetest boi, I would like to know what kind of food is absolutely your favorite 🫶

Crack: Heh.. Hey Lex.

Ah... favorite? Don't think I could chose. I love most things.

..... If it's meat.. 's long as 't's not bloody... or real obviously an animal... 'n' sometimes I jus' avoid it completely... Found some vegan places I really like in some AUs over time. Love a good vegan burger.

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up? 

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

-

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon. 

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth. 

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick. 

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it? 

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best. 

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again. 

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness. 

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes. 

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman. 

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop. 

Away.

All she needed to do was get away. 

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong? 

It didn’t happen this way. 

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out. 

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete. 

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose. 

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor. 

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?” 

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing. 

Away. 

She needed to get away. 

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away. 

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word. 

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass. 

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster. 

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.” 

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something? 

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog. 

“Kendra?”  

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out. 

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight. 

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair. 

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally. 

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm. 

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing. 

It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.” 

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud. 

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook. 

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation. 

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,  

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble. 

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles. 

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths. 

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?” 

She was in the middle of dying. 

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now. 

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.” 

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic. 

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?” 

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up. 

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.” 

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away. 

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?” 

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little 

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?” 

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted. 

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room. 

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul. 

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms. 

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm. 

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm. 

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle. 

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her. 

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?” 

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static. 

“I need details.” He pressed. 

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.” 

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time. 

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.” 

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach. 

“Are we feeling more alive?” 

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side. 

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.” 

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.” 

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed. 

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered. 

“Then neither is yours.” 

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?” 

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. 

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.” 

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.” 

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.” 

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.” 

“Positive?” 

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible. 

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed. 

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.” 

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron. 

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.” 

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep. 

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair. 

She was home. And she was safe.

~

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Starcrossed

Here we go! the next Drabble :D @spotaus

As the poll ended it gave me two options and I wanted to write a Cross POV. So. Starcrossed :D

First: here Prev: here Next: here

Timewise?

We are about... a Month and like three weeks in. So a month of Nightmare being alone. Three weeks of him being with the gang. about a small week after Killer soul-adopting Nightmare (with Dust adopting Nightmare in the first week as the madlad he is).

Okay? We good timeline wise? okay.

As always, unedited and unbeta'ed. This is not ever going to change unless i one day decide to make a full story of these drabbles and add extra stuff and change the chapters up.

Anyway!

*------------------------*

Cross rubs his face as he continues to walk "Dust."

Dust just hums to let him know he heard.

Cross shoots him a look "He has legs. he can walk." with he, Cross obviously means Nightmare.

Dust doesn't even look at Cross or look in anyway surprised by that sentence. Instead he just keeps walking as he holds Nightmare in his arms "I know."

Cross stares at him but Dust doesn't continue to speak.

He groans "So why isn't he walking?!"

Dust shrugs and instead bounces Nightmare up a bit to enable Dust to have a more secure and stable hold on Nightmare.

Nightmare for his part does not look bothered as he just relaxes against Dust as he looks back over Dust's shoulder and watches other people go about their day.

Cross rubs his face "honestly what is the deal with you and carrying him?"

Dust shoots him an amused look "I want to."

Cross throws his arms and hands out "That can't be the only reason!"

Dust shrugs "Don't need more reasons."

Cross glares at the ground as they continue walking. He looks up and points at a store "This one?"

Dust looks at it and shakes his skull.

Cross groans loudly "What is wrong wit this one?!"

Dust raises a brow "Wrong style."

Cross crosses, heh, his arms as he glances at Dust "You know. this whole clothes shopping thing would be a lot easier if you actually picked a store to enter."

Dust shrugs again "Not good enough." and he gently bonks his skull against Nightmare's.

Cross can't believe this is the same Dust that got his own clothes by walking into the frist store he saw and grabbing the first set of clothes he saw. before calling it a day. Dust's wardrobe was hardly ever actually his size.

Now? The first store was too low quality; then not the right colours; then wrong materials; then too bland; then too sexy, with this one Cross had agreed and questioned why they would need a shirt for a six year old with the words 'lady killer' on them; then to tight and restrictive; and now just 'not good enough'.

When Cross agreed to help Dust get Nightmare new clothes instead of breaking and entering a place wiht Killer he had hoped it would be the less stressful option.

Cross rubs his face "Wiht you being this picky he is never going to get clothes that fit him."

Dust shrugs again and seems fully unbothered. Which may just be because Nightmare primarily still wears his stuff.

Cross doesn't get it. well he kinda does. Babybones are cute nad he also notices the need to take care of him but. It is Nightmare! It is a matter of time before he is an adult again and then none of this will have mattered! Or maybe they will have and then what? How would he recover from this?!

It is best to remind himself that this may be Nightmare and he may be six but Nightmare will one day become that powerful and formidable monster again and so to keep treating him with the respect he deserves!

They walk silently through the twon for a moment and Cross can see that Nightmare is dozing in Dust's hold. completely content and trusting.

Cross shoots a look at Dust. "I just don't get it...."

Dust blinks nad looks over "What?"

Cross feels himself grow warm with embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it out loud and he says as much.

Dust rolls his eye lights and waits with a raised brow.

Cross grumbles but tries to explain "How can you... treat him like a babybones that easily?"

Dust tilts his skull and glances down at Nightmare before looking back at Cross "Because he is one." the way Dust says it implies it is the obvious answer.

Cross groans as he tries to explain more "But he used to be big and an adult. Or at least look like one? How can you jsut... switch to seeing him as a babybones?"

Dust tilts his skull adn snorts "easy. people change. people you watched grow up or grow older, do you still treat them like kids even though they are adults. because you knew them as kids?"

Cross blinks nad speaks "This is different?"

Dust shakes his skull "I don't agree. it is the same concept. just slightly different. he used to be a child. magic gave him the body and brain of an adult. but his soul was sitll a child and once the magic was gone he is a child again. So you treat him as a child."

Cross frowns as looks to the side "What if he becomes on adult again?"

Dust starts to grin "I mean. that is usually how growing up works."

Cross knows he is blushing again and glares "You know what i meant."

Dust chuckles and shrugs "The same still implies. We will just be lucky we managed to skip the teenage years with him."

Cross wasn't sure what he expected as answer but maybe he should have seen something like this coming. Dust was after all all for this parentship thing they have going on right now... and Dust is a very smart and logical person. Of course he managed to find comparisons to normal day life and managed to accept it more easily. Hell Dust probably has even more examples ready to use if Cross asks for it.

It is still just... difficult to accept for him. Cross will need more time. Luckily none of them seem to mind him lagging behind in this case. Killer had also taken longer than Dust to accept the situation fully, but Killer managed to work it out.

Horror is much chiller about what is going on. He didn't seem surprised at Dust's reaction and even less at Killer joining the 'parent-camp' with Dust.

Maybe there is just something wrong with him... it wouldn't be the first time...

Cross sighs as they stop by the plaza and manage to just see the house that Horror and Killer should be robbing. "well, either way we are soon out of time and will have been unsuccessful" great. the one thing they had to do was get Nightmare a spare outfit. They didn't even need to try shoes and-

Dust freezes "fuck."

Cross turns "what is wrong?" as he says it he sees Dust eye the plaza around them, all while he ducks further and further behind the fountain as Nightmare shakes.

Dust looks around the plaza "Stars. All three." he glares "empty... can't make a break for it using the crowd as cover..."

and a teleport would be too loud and will clue them in on them being here. Fuck indeed.

Cross sneaks a look and sees the three skeletons talk and converse casually. the rattling from Nightmare is a sign of pure fear and Cross feels himself grow worried even as he texts Horror and Killer about their emergency.

How... how would they react to Nightmare being a child? Dream had already made it clear that he thought Nightmare was corrupted and none of his brother had remained. What would he do if he saw Nightmare?

Best case scenerio would be him kidnaping Nightmare and locking him away... Worst case just... dusting him. Make sure Nightmare never becomes the powerful being he can be.

Cross notices that they have been seen as Dream looks shocked while Blue waves and starts to shout "Hey! DUst and Cross!" Cross acts as if he didn't hear or noticed them.

Cross stares at Dust "What do we do-"

and Dust just, undoes his own hoody. he pulls it over his head and even ignores the red scarf that falls to the ground next to Nightmare- wait when did Dust put Nightmare down.

Dust puts the hoody on Nightmare with one smooth motion and pulls the hoody up, he next uses the strings to make it tight and tests to make sure it doesn't come off easily.

Dust stares at Nightmare as he quickly puts on the scarf again "You just keep your face and skull against my shoulder and neck okay? Don't glance, don't react. Just act shy or asleep. Nothing will get you." and Dust picks him up again. Nightmare, without a single word, pushes his face into the soft scarf and together with the large hoody there is nothing visible that could be used to indentify him.

Holy shit that is so smart-

"Hey you two! We didn't expect to see you just hanging- what... is that?!" Blue looks beyond excited as he stares at the tiny bundle that is Nightmare. Cross feels his anxiety and panic turn hotter into a raging fire. Dont. get. near. him.

Dust just shoots Blue a look and speaks in a quiet voice "sh. quiet."

Blue gives a sheepish look and speaks much softer "oh. I am sorry. The kiddo is tired?" Dust just nods.

Cross sees his change and nods as well "We were taking a quick break but were going to leave again." he can see Killer and Horror look through the window of the house they are robbing and sees them see their situation.

Blue looks sad but nods "Yeah. I get that-"

Ink interrupts him "How did you two get a child?!"

Dream looks suspicious but doesn't say anything.

Fuck, he can probably feel Nightmare's fear doesn't he? and he wouldn't know it is fear directed at the Stars... Oh no.

Dust raises a brow and doesn't even bother to answer as he starts to take a few steps back, away from the Stars. Cross cna see that Horror is climbing down the side of the house as Killer glares at the Stars.

Ink gasps "I knew it! You two kidnaped a child!" he holds out his hands "Hand the child back and we will find their parents!"

Dust growls as he steps further back.

Cross panics and answers without thinking "We didn't steal him! He is Dust's you idiots!"

dead. silence.

The three Stars look shocked at Cross and Cross can actually see both Horror and Killer also stare at him in shock.

Ink snorts "Really? and who is the other parent?"

Cross huffs "First off, you don't nessesarily need two parents to make a child, learn basic monster biology first before making claims. second, obviously it is" think think think think think just say something! "me." NO NOT THAT!

The silence of before is NOTHING compared to the silence now. Cross is actually sure he can hear a pin drop in one of the stores around them at the moment.

No one moves and it doesn't help that Cross can see both Dust and Nightmare shoot him incredulously glances.

Oh please someone shoot him because Horror even pauses his own climb to shoot him a raised eye brow while Killer is ACTUALLY wiggling his eye brows at him.

Just end him. Please his mind did not work with him. He had just been thinking so much about how everyone had been treating Ngihtmare and how he saw the situation.

Dream is the one who coughs and looks to the side awkwardly "oh. wow. euh... congrats? I didn't realise you two were... you know... an item." please please please please shut up. "and a babybones as well! Wow! That is... unbelieveable!"

Blue nods "Yeah! No one knew!"

Cross still can't find the words and is actually afraid of what he will say next. Dust however shrugs and has managed to pull his face back in his normal bored look "prefer privacy. it is no ones business." and he raises a brow at them.

Blue smiles brightly "of course! We won't tell others. stars knows everyone wants a quiet moment nowadays..."

Dream nods before quickly changing the subject "right! We were just curious what you two were doing out and-" he looks horrifed "Oh stars... you two are on a date! A fmaily date! and we crushed it and interrupted it and we are so sorry!"

Cross suddenly understands why Chara and Gaster would use the reset and overwrite power. please just let him change this moment to have been anything else. please.

Dust hums and shrugs. Not really answering any question.

Dream still looks embarrassed "anyway! we... euh... well... were wondering what you were doing. Now we know that that is great! euh... So... my brother just... doesn't mind this?"

Any embarrassement disappears. Hot rage in his body. Cross glares as his crosses his arms.

Dream sputters but continues "you know... be is so against positivity... and this... this is a beautiful and wonderful thing! Doesn't he...isn't he..." he smiles sheepish.

Cross glares "no. He doesn't. In matter of fact. He is very fine with the situation at hand. very willing to help in a way he can." Cross isn't even lying. While Nightmare doesn't like having been changed back he isn't diffficult anymore and more than happy to stick with Dust, and them all, now. Nightmare is also not fussy when out and about on missions and aside from being grumpy he is a perfect good babybones.

Dust nods "you should stop talking about people you know nothing about." he looks at Cross "lets go. he is tired."

Cross nods and sees Horror sign at Killer to get down as well. Killer shrugs and just lets himself fall from the third floor right into Horror's arms. The two disappear into some side street.

Cross nods and looks at Dust "you first." Cross will just walk behind Dust and make sure the Stars don't get any glimbs near the end.

Dust nods and turns easily as he walks away, Cross can see how Dust changes the hand mid turn and Nightmare sinks a little lower. Making it that his skull doesn't even peak over Dust's shoulder.

They walk away in silence and take many turns to get some distance. As soon as Cross is sure the Stars can't hear or see them he says so. Which causes Dust to nod before sprinting, Cross is quick to follow.

They reach the edge of town in record time and Cross glances back "okay. we are good. we are fine... we got out."

Dsut nods before looking at him very amused "we made a babybones?"

Cross feels himself grow warm for so many reasons as he sputters "I panicked! I am sorry I implied we were- that we did!" he hides his face.

Dust chuckles and pats his shoulder "It is fine."

Cross relaxes and smiles in thanks.

Dust raises a brow "Killer will never let you live this down."

Cross groans "just end me."

Dust hums "I don't know. I don't think killing the other parent of my child works in my favour." he grins so goddamnit amused.

Cross is never going to hear the end of this.

*-----------------*

First: here Prev: here Next: here

Cross was so close to soul-adopting Nightmare but then the Stars interrupted and Cross panicked.

Also, important. Noticed how Cross only apologised for implying he and Dust made the babybones together? But not that he is a parent? Cross is getting there. It will just take him a while.

[tallymarkbrothers]

[Inktober Day 31 - Fire]

[saddramaticsleepypoet]

Latter, please.. just breathe. It’s going to be ok. I can get you something if you’d like..anything

-🦋🪲

When did you get here!? -he is getting stressed now from all these people, he drops the viewer breathing heavily-

[ask-valiant-victory]

Hazel: "So you like puzzles, do ya? Man, the ones with all those teeny tiny pieces are the worst." Sitting next to the strange Pokemon, she continued to ramble a little more. "When you have paws as big as I do, it's tough grabbing onto small things, you know? Least, not without squishing 'em by accident... that, and I'm not the best with puzzles. How about you?"

Valiant stared at Hazel for a long moment, not enough to be uncomfortable but just enough to seem awkward. He found her question a bit odd, he'd never really thought of that before. He didn't know what to say. "Am I the best at puzzles?" He asked with a tinge of confusion in his voice. "Well... Um."

"Uh-" Nervously he looked around, he really didn't know how to answer that question. He didn't really like the question either... No. He hated that question and that was certainly a first for him. "I- ... Uhm. Well, you see..."

"Doing the things my god wants me to do... without question or asking the reason why... What do I do best?"

"Ruining things... destroying things... tearing apart everything..." Valiant quickly fell silent, his gaze beginning to transfix on the void of grey behind her. The more he stared at the dull grey, the more he began to look absent, his eyes looking devoid of any presence. Perhaps he was simply lost in the sudden storm of thoughts Hazel had caused him... or maybe he wasn't thinking at all. But eventually, through the haze, he let out an awkward choked sound. It soon morphed into a fit of forced laughter.

He clapped his hands together dramatically, he was trying his best to draw attention away from what he just said. It was clear he hadn't quite mastered the art of lying yet, so the best he could do was distract. "Perhaps we can speak of something else? Please?" He coughed out, "I do not like thinking about what I am best at doing. It all feels so awful. I really do not like this feeling in my chest, It hurts! Alot! I would like it to stop now, Please." Though he smiled, it was obvious he was in a lot of distress. He didn't want to talk about this anymore.

→ Uh... Maybe someone should see if he's okay there, He seems to be suddenly very... distraught.

[bb-drayster]

[offscreen post.]

[geez. drayton was not used to waking up this early.

he groaned as he plopped into his seat on the plane. fortunately, the flight wasn’t going to be too long. although, he really didn’t see a reason why he couldn’t just fly on rex. he was definitely capable of carrying him back to the mainland. but, he was already on the plane, too late to protest now.

in a way, drayton was sort of…looking forward to returning home. seeing his mother and iris again would be nice, but then again there was la primarina. and…drayden. not to mention no one had even bothered explaining to him what this “assessment” would be, or why it had to be done on the mainland in the first place.

whatever. he would only be gone for a few days, then he would return to the academy. admittedly he…didn’t exactly feel welcomed there either, especially considering the stunt he’d pulled just before he left. buuuut—

hold on. why were his hands trembling so much? not like he’d had anything caffeinated today. huh.

he took off his jacket and shoved it under his seat. suddenly, he felt like he was burning alive. was it just him, or was it abnormally hot inside this plane? he looked around to see if anybody else was as heated as he was. no one? no one at all? alright then. if that was the case, all he had to do was just focus on his breathing. after all, he did feel like he’d just ran two whole marathons. he began feeling extreme pain in his chest, as if his heart had just exploded. why were the walls of the plane closing in on him?

…was he going to die?

drayton remembered the last time he felt this bad, he had kaon with him, and that seemed to help him feel better. but there was no chance kaon would be allowed on this tiny plane.

the plane would take off in a few minutes. there was no turning back now. during the flight, all he’d have to do was focus on his breathing. and…not throwing up all over the place. he’d be fine once he landed.

right?]

[justsome-di]

I thought one good panic attack that nearly made me faint would release something in me but it didn't I don't feel any better

[inseparabiles]

I think writing the fic has cured us. Never had this much fun with the last half an hour of the movie. YES, Cara, name your fucking monkey your first consul responsible for military and civil affairs of the Empire. Fuck those other guys, Dondus has this covered. GAMES AND MASS EXECUTIONS let's fucking go!

Macrinus getting banged in the face with a rock? Eviscerated? Dunked into the ditch to rot? What a time to be alive. Eat shit you fucking garbage man. This is what you get for hurting people.

Ravi you're a beautiful underappreciated angel. I hope your children know that you're a hero.

[kyofsonder]

Life, aiming a loaded crossbow at me: I'm sorry. You were involved in the decisions that led to this, but you can't know whether they're worth it until everything is done. This is the first step. Endure it as best you can.

Me, shot with the crossbow bolt: [looks down and sees a label tied to the bolt that reads "metaphor for stressful situation"] Ow. Thanks for the warning, I guess? At least it's the only thing I'm getting shot with for a good while.

Life, reloading several bolts into the crossbow at once: Have you ever heard of speed shooting?

Me: I want it to be known that I resent this.

Life: Noted. [shoots me multiple times in quick succession]

Me, on the floor and stuck full of crossbow bolts all over my body: Recovering from this is gonna suck.

[coyotescribbles]

He should have killed it.

He should have killed it HE SHOULD HAVE KILLED IT HE SHOULD HAVE FUCKING KILLED IT-

Maybe it was already dead. Who knew? Not him! But he'd unloaded half his arsenal in the damned thing's general direction in a moment of raw, completely unregulated fucking PANIC and fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK HE SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE IT WAS DEAD and he DIDN'T and now he was flat on his back in the middle of the safehouse floor venting so hard it felt like his filters were going to shred to bits and WHAT THE ACTUAL EVER-LOVING FUCK WAS THAT?!

A drone. One of his drones, that's what it had been.

Or, at least, that's what it had looked like.

But his drones didn't TALK. DRONES IN GENERAL did. Not. Talk. They weren't built for it, they weren't programmed for it, they didn't do it.

But that one had. In crystal-clear chirping binary that it shouldn't have been able to understand much less communicate in-

The faintest scratching at the door interrupted his train of thought, and had him immediately lurching up. Reflexively, he unloaded another round in the direction of the noise - only to collapse back again when the door slowly swung open to reveal a startled Thrust instead of the unholy nightmare creature he'd been anticipating.

"…Well, that's great, now we're gonna have to replace the front door." Thrust said dryly, rolling in and pushing what was left of said door firmly shut.

"Shut up," Jetstorm groaned, covering his face with his hands; "shut up, shut up, just shut up…"

"You okay?"

"Do I look okay to you, Roller Boy?"

"No. So, you gonna tell me what happened?"

Another groan escaped him. "It. Talked. To me."

"Huh?"

"It TALKED to me!"

"You're gonna have to be a little more detailed than that, 'Storm." He could hear the sound of tire treads crossing the floor and stopping nearby. "What talked to you? 'Cause I'm guessin' it wasn't a Maximal."

"No, what clued you in?" Jetstorm peeked past his gauntlets to glare at the cycle mech. "One of my DRONES talked to me."

[justa-stroop]

“Take care of Mokuba for me, okay?”

Prompt no.1 of whumptober! I’m going to try and do some prompts, but I am a student, so we’ll see how much time I have!

Joey?” Kaiba screamed, watching as Joey looked at him, his eyes on fire and panicking. “Take care of Mokuba, okay?”

“NO, no, Seto you’ll do that yourself! I promise.” Joey shouted, and Kaiba heard the noise of a card flipping up, and felt something push him away. His breath left his body, and his eyes opened.

Just in time to watch Joey get in front of the blast and take it himself.

—-

Or: Joey and Kaiba get kidnapped on the way to their date. They’re forced to duel, Joey jumps in front of a direct attack to save Kaiba

Whumptober prompt no.1: Race Against the Clock | left for dead | panic attacks |”If only we could hold on”

[magpigment]

finally got to episode one season two of prime defenders! my thoughts so far ^^ :

dakota :(

mallard >:((

[phagodyke]

bruh this mammalian diving reflex shit actually works ??????? and no one told me before.