#claustrophobia cw

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

hello i have decided to make things worse for elias.

so, previously, with them swapping from light fingers to heart's desire, they had simply been scared off by Edward's threats, and gotten off scot free. but i still treated this as a major enough source of trauma that they have nightmares and flashback about getting stuck in a coffin. this didn't feel entirely right, and i kinda wanted to give this more weight and emotional depth. so!

it's still going to be a major source of trauma for them, and they're still going to have the same outcome! however, i am changing the action a touch!

instead of leaving early, they actually go through the Orphanage a little. Elias is terrified of his threats, but they were a braver person then than they are now. so they go the Orphanage, intent to find and rescue Clara. but they were not the most Shadowy back then. not enough. so they get caught, very early on, before they can find Clara, before they can give her the tea. and Edward of course, follows through. so he knocks them out, and they awake in a small, velvet lined box. and they are terrified, and paniced. and they are forced to claw their way out, and to die over and over, until it is enough, and they manage to make it out, using what they had on their body at the time. (and maybe their plant helps a lil idk.)

and it is too much to bear, far too much to bear. so they flee. they turn their back on clara, and the horrors of the Orphanage, what little they know. and they drink the lethean tea leaves and forget... most of it :)

but they still have the flashbacks and their nightmares, and a horrendous guilt. but they had to preserve the freedom that they just got, just had the first taste of. it was a difficult decision, choosing their own freedom over a possible freedom for clara.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 3: Pinned Down

Read on Ao3

CW for claustrophobia and broken bones

-----------------------------------------------------

He awakens to cold agony.

Sky gasps, lurching forward in the dark. The movement does not allow him an escape. Bones crunch. Blazing agony splits his body. A strangled scream bursts from lips painted with blood. 

He falls, though not far. Or perhaps, he isn’t falling at all. Perhaps, it is merely a sensation, like the plunges he takes when the foundation of filmy slumber gives way and he tumbles headlong down an endless stairway. 

Sky presses his forehead to the frost-caked ground. The cold bites at his nose, sears his lungs. A low whine escapes him. 

Breathe, says the voice of reason in the furthest reaches of his mind. The voice of his training as a knight. 

Inhale. Exhale. Then do it again. 

He can’t. His breath comes too fast, too shallow. Every time his lungs attempt to expand, the pain grows infinitely worse. Knives pierce his chest from the front and from the back. They dig in until he feels them in his bones. 

He tastes iron. 

Stay calm.

Panic flutters within him, a bird fighting frantically against the bars that restrain it. His heart pounds so hard he feels it in every part of his body. 

His head feels weightless.

Assess the situation. 

Sky drags open eyes he had not registered closing. The action sends agony splintering through his skull. And it does him little good.

His surroundings are indecipherable. The only light available to him are those that burst in crackling splotches in his vision. Oxygen only grows more unattainable with every passing moment. It seems as though the world has settled onto his back, snapping bones like twigs, compressing his lungs till they burst.

He shifts more cautiously this time. Tries to make his body move, to begin to crawl across the ground. 

He can’t bring himself to budge. But he pays dearly for the attempt all the same.

Pain sparks like a flame within him, streaking lightning fast from his trunk to his extremities. Something warm seeps into his tunic, pools beneath his abdomen and legs. It bubbles in his throat. He chokes on it as lights pop before his vision and rapidly turn to shades of dizzying gray. 

The pungent flavor of bile bites his tongue.

The sound of rushing wind gathers in his ears, floods his skull. It is so loud that he does not hear the scrape and shift of shattered bone. And though they echo in the space, he does not hear his own screams.

Darkness plummets, a keese in the night, and takes him down with it. 

…

When he blinks open his eyes again, his situation is much the same.

Pain still stabs into him, again and again until it fills his senses, swallows his awareness. Shadows are still all he can see. It smells of blood and bile and ice.

He begins to shiver. Soon, his teeth are chattering with the ferocity of it, his body jerking and shuddering as though tongues of lightning flow through it.

Sky cries out to no one and nothing. Only agony responds. 

The world settles more firmly upon him and he crumples beneath the burden.

I’m trapped.

The knowledge floats to him, plain in its presentation. It is a dagger embedded in his soul, a spear in his heart. 

What little breath he could garner turns to hardly anything. The air is rancid with the smell of his own exhales, of his blood. No wind blows in to allow him a whiff of freshness and freedom. No familiar voices call his name.

When the tears arrive, desperate and choked, the ache in his head turns blinding.

He shuts his eyes, digs his nails into the icy ground, and tries to keep from expelling the contents of his stomach.

…

The longer he remains broken and unable to move, the smaller the space becomes.

Sky reaches for his pouch, desperate for something, anything to aid in an escape. Maybe he can burrow deep within the earth, carve a doorway of dirt. Maybe he can manage to toss a bomb far enough from him to shatter rock rather than flesh and bone. Maybe his hookshot can grasp something on these walls and he can drag himself out from this terrible embrace.

Dizzy, bloodied fingers surge backward and scrape for purchase. They make contact with jagged stone, tear at it until calloused skin is shredded beyond use. 

He is trembling harder than ever when he finally gives up. From fear. From cold. 

They encompass him, constrict lungs already compressed far beyond proper use. His teeth chatter so fiercely he has to clench them together to keep from biting off his tongue.

The chill has numbed some of the pain and his extremities along with it. He clenches and unclenches his hands to try and bring blood back into them. But what he has has largely seeped into the floor. It no longer offers gory warmth. It too has become icy.

His legs, he can no longer feel. 

At one point, he gives way to the terror accumulating within, and thrashes viciously. Fresh blood rains from wounds he fears to see. New pain grips him in a suffocating vice. 

He tears his broken body on the rocks as he lurches forward again and again, scrabbles for purchase with fingernails shredded to nothing but bloody nubs. 

He moves with all the strength he has left, all the strength that panic allows. He goes nowhere except down. Down into black oblivion. 

It engulfs him like the Imprisoned’s great maw. He welcomes it.

…

He isn’t certain wakefulness comes for him. If it does, it is a dim, blurry thing. A being of shape and form but no substance. 

Sky floats in a haze of pain. He drowns in an ocean of ice. And he begins to lose consciousness of any of it.

He cries tears that crystallize on his cheeks, spouts weak pleas for help. If anyone hears, they do not reply. 

Distantly, he wonders if they are coming for him at all. Perhaps, they have finally tired of his laziness, his slowness, the fact that he will always be one step behind, always be late. 

He is fast in a fight, vicious on his feet. But what good does that do if he cannot bring forth the strategies he concocts deep within? What good does that do if he cannot endure long enough to pursue an enemy?

Useless. It is no longer the voice of reason that speaks. It is no longer the knight within. You are useless to them. It is how you ended up here in the first place.

Sky does not remember how he got here. How can he refute that which he cannot recall?

He doesn’t even try.

…

“…Sky. Sky!”

Hands reach towards him. Light floods his vision. He winces, shuts his eyes against it. He wants to sleep. 

Why can’t he just sleep?

“This is bad.”

“Think you can lift it, old man?”

“I’m going to have to. Get that side, pup. Keep it balanced or it’ll crush him.”

“Ready? One, two, three…”

Bones shift, flesh peels, blood splatters. A screech presses against Sky’s lips. It escapes as nothing more than a whimper. 

“It’s alright.” Fingers twine with his, warm and steady. “Breathe, Sky. Hold on. It’ll be over in a moment.”

He has been holding on. He is too exhausted to do it anymore. But the terrible onslaught of pain is inescapable. Onward it marches and drags him along with it. 

He grips the familiar hand with every ounce of strength he has left within and cries tears of blood into the unforgiving earth. 

When it is over, he hardly realizes it. The agony continues, pulsing through his body like a heartbeat. Sky crumples into arms he recognizes, yet does not register, choking and gasping. He grasps vainly at the cloth of richest blue that cascades over the slim shoulder he rests upon. A shoulder plate bites into his cheek.

“It’s okay,” a voice rumbles. A hand gently repositions his head so that the armor does not pierce his face. “It’s over, now, Sky. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

The scent of silken sugar wafts to him. Warmth seeps into his bones. 

Sky breathes out, slumps forward. 

“You’re safe,” that voice says again, washing over him like pouring rain. 

As light filters cheerily through the haze his vision has become, he finally allows himself to believe it.

[copics-and-renegades]

Whumptober 2024 Day 04: Sensory Deprivation

Quite the sticky situation.

---

I like tape gags on characters tbh.

[cottoncandysprite]

Realized I could use my comfort character as free therapy and wrote a oneshot in one sitting about it. Enjoy

(Btw if you have serious claustrophobia you might wanna sit this one out trust me)

[wwdits-kink-meme]

i crave mardjinn content. they should fuck inside the lamp mid-s4 while the djinn ignores nandor calling for him to make more wishes until marwa is completely satisfied. he lives to serve....HER 😜

-

[saintbleeding]

thinkin abt a vast/lonely/buried domain where ur alone in a diving bell but forever

[prllnce]

the dirt calls

| ko-fi | twitter | bluesky | mastodon | vgen | store | twitch | website |

[c-53]

SAYER… 😭😭😭

[fictionkinfessions]

Canon date fails?

Probably that time I fell in a hole with Will and we got trapped in a cave and then I freaked out because it was a dark cave and I have bad experiences with dark caves and shadow traveling would've killed me so I couldn't do that then he started glowing which made it slightly more ok then he tried to dig through the rocks and then I kissed him and that's how me and Will started dating in my canon.

Wasn't technically a date but we used to joke about it being our terrible first date.

- Nico Di Angelo 💀🐌🦋

x

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

current fic ideas are:

elias' read handed heart arc

may caring for someone as they come back from a successful attempt

elias' velvet lined box (and subsequent stay at the beth) moment, including drinking the tea leaves, telling irving about what happened, and may mentioning the Marvellous

[awholelotofladybug]

Trapped: A Stammering Adrien AU Moment

Based on This AU

Adrien and Marinette are riding in an elevator at the Grand Paris, and as they enter it, Adrien seems on edge, and Marinette can’t help but notice this every time they get in an elevator.

Adrien: *trembling*

Marinette: Adrien? Muffin, are you okay?

Adrien: Huh?

Marinette: You’re trembling again. Is something wrong? *thinks of something* Wait, Adrien, are you claustrophobic?

Adrien: A-A-A little bit. Mostly, it’s cleithrophobia.

Marinette: Cleithrophobia? What’s that?

Adrien: It’s the fear of b-b-b-being... *feels the elevator stop* Trapped...

Announcer: *on the intercom* Attention please. We are experiencing some technical difficulties with the elevator. Please remain patient while we address the issue. To anyone stuck in the elevators, please remain calm.

Adrien: Calm?! How can we b-b-b-be calm?! We’re stuck! We’re T-T-T-TRAPPED! *hyperventilating* 

Marinette: Adrien! Adrien, breathe!

Adrien: *hyperventilating * Too scared! *hyperventilating* Can’t breathe!

Marinette: *takes a paper bag out of her purse, unfolds it and gives it to him* Here! Breathe into your bag!

Adrien: *starts breathing into the bag*

Marinette: That’s it. That’s it, Adrien. Deep breaths. In and out, in and out. Focus on your breathing. *holds him* It’ll be okay.

*Elevators switches back on a minute later*

Marinette: *relieved sigh* There we go. Back on track.

Adrien: *clings to her tightly* I was s-s-s-so scared... *cries softly*

Marinette: *comforts him* It’s okay. It’s all over now.

*the door opens to find Chloé, who knows what happened*

Chloé: How is he?! Is he okay?!

Marinette: *bringing him out, patting his back* Recovering. *continues* It’s okay. You’re out of there. You’re not trapped anymore.

Chloé: Oh, Adrikins. *joins the hug* It’s okay. You’re out in the open. You’re safe.

Adrien: *sniffle* Thank you, girls. *shaky breath* Thank you...

*The three of them sit on the floor for a while so Adrien can calm down*

[copics-and-renegades]

Whumptober 2024 Day 01: Race Against The Clock

Sad wet puppy.

---

Normally I'm leaving the drowning theme for later the month, but this year it made its way to the starting position.

Better find him soon.

[oficeandwind]

it's not just silence that kami's left in (though his ears are RINGING), it's also darkness. if he squints, he can still make out the faint light coming from the other side of the door.

he can barely move, but at least, finally, the ropes around his wrists snaps, letting his arms flop limply to either side of his body. he stares, and stares, AND STARES, before he finally gives into the panic and rage and terror.

SCREAMING.

-

screaming.

-

wandering around this small room is doing nothing. he can barely conjure up the strength to break walls down. he can barely remember where he is. throat is torn and broken from his rage-fueled screams, and no one had even come to his rescue. the balladeer had probably deliberately ignored him, too. not that kaminari can even BLAME him ― he'd ignore a temper tantrum too if he were in the harbinger's shoes.

( HE HAS BEEN IN HIS SHOES. KAMINARI VIVIDLY REMEMBERS WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO BE THAT CALLOUS. )

after what feels like hours of trying to find a way out, or even to break the door down with no luck, kami slumps back against the far wall, doing nothing but going back to staring. he's trying NOT to let his mind drift to darker times, but the isolation is already settling in. claustraphobia. waking nightmares. FEAR.

-

he doesn't remember crying. tears are sliding down his cheeks, and he can vaguely sense himself reaching up to brush a tear away. are his thoughts getting to him that badly? he hasn't shouted or screamed in hours. or was it days? time has no meaning anymore. it feels like forever since that puppet (puppet? enemy?) had trapped him in here. even now, his thoughts are too jumbled, too DARK for him to fully grasp; all he knows is that he's crying, and apparently has been for some time.

-

the darkness stretches out before him, tendrils of shadows etching out into forever. his mind ALMOST conjures up an image of irminsul. if he squints and stares hard enough into the shadows, he can make out the silhouette of the tree in the distance. it holds significance to him. he wants to CLING to that significance with everything he is. but that, like everything else he'd held dear, is slipping through his fingertips like grains of sand. why sand? come to think of it, why had he come here in the first place? what was he even looking for?

what is irminsul to him?

-

this is all he was created for. a nameless puppet, not good enough for the archon. mother. she had cast him aside, deeming him useless. and even now, he's crying. awake? asleep? it doesn't matter. he's lost in the darkness, no one and nothing to comfort him in this silence. his creator, his MOTHER, had left him alone. drawing his legs up, he wraps his arms around himself for a self hug. it's all he's ever going to get, right? maybe someday, someone will come to rescue him and give him a purpose again, but it's unlikely. the nameless puppet never had a purpose to begin with. there's nothing to do, no one to come, so he settles back, and stares into nothing.

it  isn't  quite  begging,  yet  it  feels  close  enough  to  be  gratifying  nonetheless.  and  the  balladeer  does  freeze  —  silhouette  engulfed  by  looming  presence  of  the  door,  one  hand  reached  out  partway  to  open  it.  ❝  i  know  exactly  what  it  does  to  us. ❞  the  isolation.  the  dissolution  of  consciousness.  it's  funny  —  there  was  once  a  point  wherein  he  desired  to  return  to  that  state  of  absolute  EMPTINESS.  when  the  sting  of  this  world's  injustices  against  him  grew  too  great,  when  he  could  no  longer  bear  to  go  another  step.  yet  the  then-nameless  puppet  found  it  impossible  to  go  back;  his  consciousness  was  like  a  blazing  wildfire,  and  no  matter  how  hard  he  tried,  he  could  not  smother  the  flames.  much  like  how  a  piece  of  charcoal  could  never  return  to  being  a  tree.  really,  isn't  he  doing  kaminari  a  favor?  his  doppelganger  might  not  see  it  that  way  —  though  kunikuzushi  thinks  logic  and  reasoning  doesn't  seem  to  be  his  strong  suit.  (  he  picked  a  fight  with  the  likes  of  him,  after  all.  )

the  snarling  does  manage  to  give  him  pause,  however.  ❝  become  exactly  like  him? ❞  he  echoes  the  words  in  a  soft,  breezy  tone  —  as  if  taking  the  time  to  mull  them  over  carefully.  the  sixth's  head  swivels,  just  enough  to  flash  a  single  eye.  it  glows  faintly  in  the  dim  light,  a  shade  of  radiant  purple  like  a  poison.  ❝  you're  wrong ...  i'm  not  like  him  —  i'm  BETTER  than  him. ❞  a  sharp  laugh  punctuates  the  words.  he  turns  around  completely,  but  takes  care  to  lean  casually  against  the  door  —  a  constant  reminder  of  his  ability  to  leave  at  any  moment.  (  contrasted  harshly  against  his  doppelganger's  inability  to.  )  ❝  what  is  a  god  by  its  most  basic  definition? ❞   kunikuzushi  asks.  he  doesn't  expect  an  answer,  nor  does  he  wait  long  enough  for  kaminari  to  give  him  one.  ❝  i've  always  thought  it  to  be ...  a  being  with  the  ability  to  shape  this  world  to  their  liking  —  whose  might  is  so  great,  they  alone  have  the  power  to  decide  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong. ❞

his  stare  feels  unusually  heavy,  as  if  he  means  to  pin  his  doppelganger  beneath  its  weight.  ❝  going  by  that  logic ...  doesn't  that  make  me  YOUR  GOD  in  this  situation? ❞   if  the  parallels  weren't  glaring  enough  before,  they're  absolutely  SHAMELESS  now.  the  balladeer  knows  precisely  what  he's  doing  —  for  who  better  to  dig  into  one's  deepest  wounds  than  THEMSELF?  ❝  it's  ironic,  isn't  it?  once  again,  you  have  proven  yourself  insubstantial  in  the  eyes  of  a  deity.  a  failure.  a  mistake. ❞

the  door  creaks  ominously,  light  spilling  into  the  room.  it  outlines  the  harbinger  in  an  inhuman  glow  —  kasa  still  casting  his  features  in  dark  shadow.  all  save  for  his  eyes.   ❝  don't  worry.  unlike  her,  i  won't  leave  you  here  to  rot  for  ETERNITY. ❞

a  smile.  (  too  perfect,  too  gentle  under  such  grisly  circumstances.  )  then,  ❝  so  long,  sucker. ❞  the  door  SLAMS,  leaving  kaminari  in  complete  silence.  perhaps  a  few  days  of  that  will  improve  his  mood.

[loomiskiller]

billy has an extreme of fear of clowns cause he decided to watch it 1990 as a kid and he cannot move past this phobia. he freezes up around clowns before turning to walk away promptly. anyone dressed up in a scary clown costume during halloween that tries come after him as a joke WILL catch his hands.

he has a fear of abandonment due to his mother leaving him with his shitty dad. she attempted to reconcile with him after the 1996 killings but he rejected her and he did not want anything to do with her. he didn’t bother to ask her why cause he knew whatever she came up with would not be a good enough reason to abandon your child. especially with the parent that is hurting them. his fear of abandonment is more of a form of his romantic partners or friends abandoning him, so he does get very attached to anyone he becomes close to. this is actually not a good thing because he can get a bit…toxic.

and last but not least, he is claustrophobic. he cannot stand enclosed spaces. he cannot stand being in an elevator on his own. he gets anxious and will be on the verge of an panic attack. his father tended to throw him into one of the closets in their home whenever felt like it, even when billy did nothing wrong. which wasn’t a lot because he was well behaved as a child and teenager before he became a murderer. mainly because he knew his father would punish him badly if he got in trouble, acted out, or got bad grades.

one could say his biggest fear is his father, but, once he gained enough independence from him as a young adult in college, he wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

[conspicuous-clown-car]

pushing boundaries