#cleithrophobia

[yanphobia]

Cleithrophobia - Chapter 11

Cleithrophobia: The fear of being trapped.

Pairing: Yandere Male Drider OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, Spiders, NonCon Touching, Possible NonCon (depending on reader's interpretation), Implied Female Reader (although it doesn't really factor too heavily into the plot), Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 10 Index

Author's Note: Aaaand that's a wrap! I was going to wait until next week to post this, but you've all been so good waiting for updates that I thought you deserved to get it early. It's been so much fun starting this blog and seeing your reactions to the new chapters, and I can't wait to get started on my next story. I have a few ideas bouncing around, so stay tuned! But in the meantime, enjoy the final installment of our angry spider man!

This story was inspired by cobalt-sphinx's Drider x Reader from Quotev.

You didn't die that night; no. Death would’ve been kinder. 

Every waking moment, the events of that night haunted you. Every time you fell asleep, it was as though you were reliving it all again. 

Mars hadn’t let up the second you fell into his den. You tumbled down the tunnel that would be too steep to ever climb out of and slammed against the cold ground of the hollowed-out nest below, dimly lit with the lantern you had left in your meeting spot earlier in the night. The impact caused you to lose your breath, but almost immediately he was lifting you up again, roughly shoving his tongue down your throat as you weakly attempted to push him away. 

Then he carried you to the newly laid webs in the corner... you shut your eyes. You didn’t want to remember what happened next. 

But even now, you could still feel his hands ripping through your clothes, shredding them and leaving you in your most vulnerable state. You could feel his fangs tearing through the soft, delicate flesh of your body, the wet sound of his mouth slurping up your blood in between his loud proclamations of hate. Your voice was gone from all of the screaming, and crying, and begging for mercy, and you weren’t sure how often you passed out only to wake up again in the throes of your torture. 

He had left no part of you untouched, unviolated, and you haven’t seen him since. 

At some point, you had woken up to find him gone, and although it was impossible to tell how long you’d been here, it had to have been at least a few days. You were forced to lie there, starving and weak in a pool of your own blood and waste, as you fought with yourself to maintain your sanity. There was something inside of you, some weak desire to escape from the hell you’ve been subjected to, that was keeping you alive.  

It was quiet, but eventually you heard the scratching of his legs against the dirt walls of the tunnel. He stopped when he reached the bottom, no doubt confused by the darkness of the den. You couldn’t bear to look at your injuries anymore, and over the course of a few excruciating hours you were able to roll over and turn the lantern off. 

“This,” he said, as you heard him approach, “was supposed to stay on!” 

The lights flickered on and you saw your captor’s irritated face, which quickly turned to surprise. It would’ve been almost comical, if you had the heart to laugh. The two of you looked each other over, him, holding the corpse of a goat by its broken neck, and you, looking like a prey animal that had met a much slower end. As he took you in, his confusion turned to an obvious disgust, and the embarrassment and shame you felt at your current state overtook you. 

“...” 

“They’re infected.” You were quick to explain. “The wounds, they’ve, uh... they’re festering. They need to be treated.” 

It was awful and seeing them again was nothing short of nightmarish. There had been nothing here to clean them when they were fresh, and you wouldn’t have had the strength to do so anyway. In your solitude, you slowly watched as the area around the lacerations swelled and reddened, while a thick, foul-smelling pus leaked out of them. They burned and the redness spread around your body, along with the fever that’s been plaguing you ever since. Your skin glistened with sweat as you watched your skin begin to yellow, and then blacken, shriveling away to reveal the deep-seated fascia and layers of fat underneath. You laid there in agony as your condition worsened, all the while remembering your readings about the necrotizing properties of spider venom.  

You were rotting away, from the outside in. 

“Please...” you begged, your voice so weak and pathetic sounding that it only embarrassed you further. “Please, let me go. I just have to... have to treat it. I have to go to a hospital.” 

He remained unimpressed. “Do you really think that will work on me?” 

“I’m serious!” You begged. “I’ll do anything... I’ll come back the second that I can. But I can’t put it off any longer...!”  He eyed your injuries again, observing old blood stains on the webs underneath you. The smell was nauseating, and perhaps that was what made him compromise. 

“I’ll get you water-” 

“No! Water would not do anything at this point, not this far along.“ The only thing that could save you now was a clean environment, with plenty of antibiotics, steroids, skin grafts. 

“Please,” you tried again, “I swear to you that I will come back. I’ll die if I don’t!” 

“You’ll die?!” He scoffed. “What do you think I do every day? How do you think I feel, knowing that you’re here, wanting to be close to you, but then remembering all of the shit that you did to me?! What I suffer, [Y/N], is a fate worse than death, and all of it is because of you.” 

He leaned closer and held up the dead goat. 

“This-” he said, shaking it in front of your eyes, “is what I’m supposed to be. An apex predator, one that listens to no one, especially not a useless human like yourself!” 

And with that, he tore into its flesh. He maintained eye contact with you as you watched the meat of its body break down and liquify. You imagined yourself in the later stages of your necrosis, with your internal organs falling apart the same exact way.  

You didn’t have it in you to be sick anymore. You were too numb. As you watched Mars devour his meal, you realized that this was the exact fate that you deserved. For all of the things that you’ve done to the people you claimed to care about. For Laura, Stan, and Shadow, whose deaths you had caused. You could never be allowed to make a full recovery, physically or mentally, because you have not earned it. 

You sighed, closed your eyes, and waited for nature to take its course. 

--- 

Mars stared down at your unconscious form. You hadn’t been responsive for a few days, and he had lost the last of his patience. He knew, in his heart, that you were being dramatic, that your injuries THAT HE INFLICTED UPON YOU were not nearly as bad as you claimed. He even cleaned your wounds for you, scrubbing them down using water from a nearby pond YOU’D TOLD HIM WATER WAS NOT ENOUGH TO HEAL YOU and the scraps of your old shirt. 

He’s done everything he could NO HE HASN’T but you still refused to wake up. 

“Hey.” He barked out. Silence. 

“HEY.” This time he kicked you. Again, silence. 

He knelt, taking one of your hands in his. He briefly glanced over the withered, blackened fingertips and yellowed, peeling nails, before biting into your cold palm. Blood gushed from the puncture, and he waited intently for you to wake up screaming, but he was still met with silence. 

He stood and dropped your hand, which fell listlessly to the ground, and licked your blood from his lips. It was off, somehow, extremely sour and not at all as warm and sweet as it used to be. 

His hands raked through his hair as he thought to himself. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what a rotten carcass looked like, he had seen them many times out in the woods. But you weren’t dead. You couldn’t be. 

Slowly, he approached you again, and even slower, he lowered his ear to the marred flesh above your heart, ignoring the bit of yellow puss that rubbed off onto his cheek. 

A heartbeat. He could barely feel it, much less hear it, but it was still there. He looked again at your disfigured face, at the deep cuts in the muscles that so closely resembled the raw meat that you used to bring to him. 

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what a creature in its final moments looked like. 

--- 

You had no way of feeling your naked body being wrapped in a dirty threadbare blanket, or the night’s cool air on your face. You couldn’t feel the way it rocked back and forth as it was carried through the forest. You couldn’t feel it being propped up against the wooden balusters of a front porch, either. 

You could, however, hear a voice pulling you back from the darkness that you had been lost in. 

“Alright, you’ve won.” It said. It kept tugging on the fabric around you. Adjusting it. 

“I’ll take your previous deal.” 

When a star is about to die, it receives one final burst of energy before it diminishes completely. Why that was the first thought you had as you mustered up the strength to open your eyes... you could not tell. 

Your vision was blurry, and in your left eye it was almost entirely gone. You didn’t have a way to see how milky and deteriorated it had become. But somehow, you were able to make out a few pairs of red eyes staring at you, and a wide, thin mouth which revealed black fangs when it spoke next. 

“Go, then, to your little human hospital and sort all of this out. And then afterwards – immediately afterwards – you'll come home again. Don’t... don’t you di-” 

His voice caught in his throat, then he huffed in annoyance. 

“Don’t you try to screw me over, okay? I’ll know if you try to get out of this one...!” 

He stood up then, seemingly miles above you, and gave one final warning: 

“Go there and come right back, [Y/N]. Just like you promised.” 

Your eyes began to defocus as you heard him bang loudly on the front door and run away, into the pitch-black forest behind you. The door opened, and you heard the woman’s voice change as she processed the macabre scene before her. 

“Hello? What is...? Oh... oh my God! Kids! Brandon, Kayla, get in your rooms! Get in them, right now! Charlie, I – Charlie, call 911! You- hey... are you alive? ...Listen, we’re going to get you help! We’re calling an ambulance! Just... just stay awake, alright? Just don’t fall asleep...!” 

You held on to her words as much as you could. Deep down, you still felt the animalistic urge to continue living. No, a part of you still wanted to believe that you could get through to the other side of this, as little as you may deserve it. But as your eyelids pulled themselves closed, and as you felt your conciousness begin to slip, you weren’t so sure that you had the strength to hold on anymore... 

THE END.

[hummingbird-of-light]

It's time for June of Doom 2024 (hosted by @juneofdoom) ! This is how it goes this year: There'll be 10 different Star Trek characters and 3 arcs. Let's start with the first arc: Post-Beyond/Post-Canon! Please read the tags! They contain important warnings! Anyhow, let's go~ Please enjoy~

1. “Help me.”                                       

| Failed Escape | On the Run | Fetal Position |

~

His breath raced madly as Captain James T. Kirk ran through the rocky tunnels that he hoped would offer him a way out of his underground prison. After far too many days, he had finally managed to overpower one of the guards who brought him water every day and escape from the dungeon he had been locked in.

Every movement hurt his bruised and battered body, but Kirk knew that he couldn't stop. His escape would certainly be noticed soon enough and he didn't want to be caught and tortured for information again. He just wanted to get back to his beloved ship and its crew. Even now, Jim was still incredibly glad that at least Chekov and the rest of the landing party had managed to get back into the shuttle in time to escape from the planet.

A low curse escaped the captain's mouth as he reached another dead end. Why was this place such a bloody labyrinth! He quickly turned on his heel and was about to run back when he suddenly heard voices coming from the corridor he had come from.

"Shit, shit, shit," he breathed, running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. He couldn't be caught! He had to get out of here! He —

His heart skipped a beat when Kirk suddenly discovered a hole in the wall. It was only very small, but if he wasn't mistaken, he should be able to squeeze in.

The voices came closer and closer. Jim knew that he didn't have much time left and so he decided to take the only option he could see.

The captain tried his best to keep his pain-filled groans as quiet as possible as he crawled as fast as he could through the narrow passageway behind the hole. It was another way out! Of that he was certain.

Inch by inch, the exhausted man crawled forward. His eyes quickly became accustomed to the darkness again. The larger tunnels of the prison had been lit with torches, but his cell had been in darkness. Just like this passage.

Relief flooded through the captain's body as the corridor widened a little and he made faster progress. His tormentors would certainly not suspect him in this part of their tunnels.

A triumphant smile crossed Kirk's lips at the thought that he might soon be free again. Up above, in the fresh air of the class M planet, he would surely find a way to contact his crew. The ion storm was surely long over and Scotty would be able to beam him aboard. Spock, who had probably done everything he could to find the captain, would be waiting for him in the transporter room. Bones would tend to his wounds and lecture him on the fact that the captain of a starship had to stay on board instead of leading landing parties. Well ... after the last few unbearable days, maybe Jim would even listen to his CMO for once.

The smile only widened when Kirk spotted a light not too far away. The end of the tunnel! He could hardly believe his luck. After days of torment, life finally seemed to be treating him well again.

Even though he was incredibly exhausted and his every muscle was screaming at him to rest, Jim quickened his pace once more. He could feel the walls closing in on him – the corridor was getting narrower again – but he wasn't going to let that stop him.

He would get out of here. He would escape!

The light was getting closer and closer, but Kirk couldn't see a real exit yet. His destination must be around a bend.

The captain gasped and coughed as he pushed on, getting closer and closer to his goal, and suddenly it happened.

Jim tried to crawl on, but his body wouldn't budge. The walls held him firmly in their grip. He was stuck!

Panic shot through Kirk as he realized this fact. Again and again, he tried to pull himself forward, but somehow his body had become entangled. With every attempt to free himself, he only seemed to make things worse.

"No, no, no," he muttered desperately. He could go no further. His point of destination was within reach, just around the bend, and yet he couldn't reach it.

Kirk made an attempt to push himself backwards somehow. Surely the locals had already left the tunnel he had been in before. If he managed to get back there, he could continue sneaking through the official corridors.

But this attempt also failed. The captain could neither move forwards nor backwards. He was trapped between the walls. Without any way of freeing himself.

Jim's breathing became faster and faster. His pulse and heart raced in a cruel unison. Cold sweat formed on his forehead. The feelings of panic that overcame him threatened to overwhelm him.

"Help." His voice was no more than a hoarse, piteous wheeze. Jim felt as if he was out of air, even though he could feel a thin breeze coming from the direction of the light. "Help me!"

Kirk began to scream for help as loud as he could. He was aware that his tormentors were the only ones who could hear him and free him, but he didn't care at that moment. All he wanted was to escape from this narrow, suffocating passageway.

But nothing happened. No one came to save him. No one got him out. Time passed and all the captain of the Enterprise could hold on to was the soft light of freedom. Freedom that he would never reach.

He thought of his ship. His crew. The vastness of space. How he longed to see the stars, to fly wherever he wanted.

Never again would he see distant galaxies. Never again would he discover new planets or meet other species.

He would remain trapped in this place for the rest of his life until the light in his blue eyes went out and the darkness swallowed him whole.

[nebelpanda]

Whumptober 2024 - Necrosis, Blood Trail

…He should not have returned. Their little ragtag group was not ready to face these monsters yet. Maybe they never would be.

But where else would they go? They had to run away from school. The adventurers guild turned a blind eye to blatantly dangerous plots. That pirate crew would help their very enemies for the right price. Unfortunately, they had to rely on themselves and the few allies they made along the way to stop these cults.

While pondering their next move, Hisami recalled an event from a couple weeks ago. When he discovered blood and rot in a lighthouse and was chased through the woods by fellow wolf people. The evidence was cleaned up before the police got there, so whatever terrible thing went on there went unsolved and unavenged. 

They may have fled the area due to their evil teacher’s ire, but Demonpeak was also where Piety was before he got erased. If they wanted to do something about this situation, to stop running and start acting, they had to investigate the area.

Hisami went out into the forest for initial scouting alone. As a wolf, he blended in better and could assess things more thoroughly with heightened senses. Vanille and Desi kept track from afar with some divination magic. Keeping them all shielded from unwanted divination as well was quite the feat. His… boyfriend was so impressive. (The appellation was still new. He might never get used to it.) And Desi matching this excellence while younger was of course just as- if not more- impressive.

His search focused on the unpleasant memory of the scent from back then. Blood and rot. Of course, there were traces all around from regular goings on in nature. Bones of prey, remnants from infighting, all normal.

Until he picked up on something overwhelmingly foul. He kept going, zig-zagging through the area, pinpointing remnants of decay peppered throughout the soil. It felt like a disease on the earth. Buried unnaturally. And suddenly the scent surrounded him, above and below ground. 

In this dread that made his fur stand on end, he almost didn’t notice dried blood leading where the decay’s odor grew more intense. He could swear it’d be disgustingly noticeable even to his human nose at this point. He should change back, but he was too stressed out. Going in with his sensitive nose would be a huge mistake, but his legs carried him forward regardless. He should wait for Vanille and Desi, but he couldn’t concentrate on their magical connections to even alert them. His mind flooded with fire. He wanted to burn the whole forest down if it meant cleansing this foul place. To burn away the memory of this sickening scent.

With a startling thud, something deeply rotten fell right into his path, just missing his snout. It felt like his mind would decay from the odor alone. All coherency left, like his mind regressed to one of an ordinary wolf. Sick and dizzy and afraid, he stumbled away from the scene as best he could. 

Until something slammed down on his neck and pinned him to the ground.

“Got you now, kid.” The Lupine’s voice growled into his ear.

It was simply too much. His system was overridden with frost, despite how much he needed to fight or flee. His phobia over entrapment made him shiver with panic. If he couldn’t change back before, now it’d be utterly impossible. Everything was stuck in terror.

He didn’t know if the telepathic message would even connect. But if it did, no doubt it would arrive as meek and tearful as he felt.

[please… stay away. Vanille… Desi… HELP]

-> A "potential" upcoming scenario in an ongoing Kids on Brooms TTRPG campaign. Of course now that I've written it out, this likely won't happen. Unless- Also the final message just felt like it'd come across more resonant with some typography :)

[littlegaytwatfan-ficwritingcrow]

(NOT SO)DAILY UPDATE LOG #3

- CLEITHROPHOBIA

current word count: 7.8k

Got some more work done today on the fox. Ended up getting distracted by my friends being sappy and emotional, and forgot to get back to writing. I'm also moving, so that's kind of distracting. Bit of a delay in the process, but we're getting there. If I keep at it, it'll be done some day. I'll get back to writing a lot of words a day here pretty soon I promise lmao. Love you guyssss mwah mwah

[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*

[shitistolefromyoutube]

[william-ba]

Imagine having legs

[zoeythealpha]

I just finished reading the 3 stories of Tales of the Pizzaplex #3 (Somniphobia, Pressure, Cleithrophobia) AND JESUS CHRIST CLEITHROPHOBIA WAS SOMETHING.Bollora what the hell😭

[aikoiya]

MLB AU - Adrian's Fear

I've always seen Adrian as the type who could easily develop Cleithrophobia; a fear of being trapped, locked in, or unable to escape. There's even some hints at it from the show in Sandboy.

So, I'd very much like to see more writers doing something with it. Even possibly using this fear as motivation for Adrian learning things like Escapology & lockpicking. He just always has a lockpicking kit on him. And when he doesn't, he had a bobby pin.

Things like knowing how to disconnect his shoulder or thumbs in order to get out of bindings.

Also an interesting idea is if he's truly trapped in a way that his skills can't get him out of while Chat like in LadyWifi with the freezer, Adrian sort of retreats into his mind & begins behaving like a feral cat like Ranma from Ranma ½ whenever he can't escape from cats.

Normally, when he's in such a situation as Adrian, he disassociates or has a panic attack. However, as time goes on, the cat panic begins to replace his normal disassociation or panic attacks as it seems that cat panics get more results & his mind recognizes that.

[deadpuppetboi]

Somniphobia (but my Au in 5 sentences or less)

Somniphobia: Sam used to be a regular at the Pizzaplex, spending his time in the Daycare center he loved to hang around with his very best friends. But his age as well as the death of his father set him in an entirely different perspective in general. So when he comes back to the Pizzaplex for a friend, Sam is more than careful around the constant germs and unsavory foods around him. But as he walks into the Daycare center, unnerved by the bright lights, toddlers screaming, and dangerous play structures he's recognized by a familiar animatronic. An animatronic that would surely test his cautious and introverted nature.

Pressure: Luca has always been pressured to do whatever anyone wanted. He never had a say even when he hung out with people he considered his ‘friends’. Going into the Pizzaplex, Luca pleased much of everyone as always up until he met a certain worker. Luis is what Luca considers to be an optimistic soul who never saw the bad in anyone. So when Luis offered Luca a golden bunny suit to wear, Luca didn't feel pressure at all, so he wore the suit without any problem at all.

Cleithrophobia: Grady is a technician that can't help himself to get annoyed at the mechanics of the Pizzaplex he worked at. He swears to God, whenever he feels like he finally fixed a problem, something even worse has to come up. Other technicians complain as well but keep it to themselves so that they wouldn't get fired from the Pizzaplex. But something was up with these glitches, Grady was sure of it, but he couldn't find the virus responsible for it. But he knows if he finds it he’ll do everything in his power to get rid of it once and for all.

???: There wasn't much Sun can do as his friend was long gone and the more that he hides him the more the smell worsens. He doesn't want to do it but Moon tells him they have no choice and that this is the only way to bring their friend back. Traveling down, the jester uneasily comes up to the creature from the pit below. He gives one last hug to his friend before throwing him in, the body disappearing into the darkness and an inhumane screech following alongside it. Even with Moon’s reassurance, Sun feels as if he's made the worst mistake in his life.

[boxedforyourdemise]

cleithrophobia is weird cuz one second Ill be cuddlin and the next Ill be fightin for my life. what the hell, brain.

[yanphobia]

Cleithrophobia - Chapter 10

Cleithrophobia: The fear of being trapped.

Pairing: Yandere Male Drider OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, Spiders, NonCon Touching, Possible NonCon (depending on reader's interpretation), Implied Female Reader (although it doesn't really factor too heavily into the plot), Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 9 Index Chapter 11

Author's Note: I am so, so sorry that it took this long for the chapter to come out! I've been struggling with my mental health and I've been avoiding darker topics like yandere until I was feeling better. But anyway... We're finally reaching the end of our tale! There's one more chapter + an epilogue after this, which I've already began writing. As always, thank you for your support and enjoy!

This story was inspired by cobalt-sphinx's Drider x Reader from Quotev.

If coming here earlier in the night was difficult, then returning was tortuous. You had to focus on whatever self-soothing methods you had learned as you made your way to the clearing. To face him, you would need to be brave, resourceful, clever, and calm. I don’t have to actually make a deal with him, you reminded yourself. I just have to let him think that I will until we can take him down. 

You glanced over at Laura, diligently holding onto your arm like you ordered her to. She had a righteous sort of fury in her eyes, but you doubted that she would stay this brave once she saw what Mars looked like. You had to hope that she wouldn’t panic and make things worse. 

You glanced up at the night sky and sighed. You had left your lantern at the spot in your haste to get away, but ironically the night sky was so beautiful and clear tonight that you didn’t even need it. 

Each step resounded in your head as the clearing came into view. Your throat was so tight that unfortunately your voice cracked when you announced your arrival. 

“Mars? It’s me! It’s [Y/N]!” You called out. 

No response. But by now you were aware of his ability to stay hidden, and you swore that you could feel him nearby. Taking a step closer to the entrance of the clearing, you tried again. 

“Mars, I know you’re here!” You wouldn’t fall for his trap. You wouldn’t enter the clearing and leave yourself vulnerable. But, as you soon found out, you didn’t have to. 

Right as you finished speaking, you felt something wet drip onto your forehead. Looking up, you saw Stan’s body suspended high in the trees, his lifeless face illuminated by the moon. His eyes, frozen in shock, stared past you and into eternity. Blood was dripping from the massive gash in his torso, down his twisted neck, past his face and down to the forest floor below. The webs holding him up were stained a dark crimson and reality hit you like a train.  

There was never any deal to be made. Mars had decided, once and for all, to act upon the threats that he had been making from the day he met you. He was out for blood, both yours and your loved ones, and you had mistakenly offered yourself and Laura up to him. 

Your scream was drowned out by Laura’s cry of anguish. Recklessly, she ran out into the clearing and began shooting blindly into the darkness. 

“Get out here, you son of a bitch!” She cried out. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!” 

“Laura!” you screamed. “Don’t go out there!” You darted into the clearing and grabbed her roughly, dragging her with you as you ran away to what you believed would be safety. You went back to your original plan from earlier – hide in the house until help arrives. You rushed down the familiar path, heart pounding in your ears, until your feet suddenly stopped beneath you. The momentum caused you to lurch forward, slamming your chest against the ground painfully. You groaned in pain and forced yourself to get up, but without looking you could feel his trap webs holding your calves down. What was worse was realizing that you couldn’t hear Laura anymore, and when you looked behind your shoulder, you saw that you were entirely alone. 

You screamed again, in frustration, and tried to pull yourself free.  

“Mars! Don’t you dare hurt her!” 

You looked forward just in time to see the large form of Mars materializing from the darkness, Laura’s body pressed against his. His pedipalps held her legs, one arm was stretched across her shoulders, and his other hand was gripping her scalp tightly, leaving her neck open and vulnerable. She was crying uncontrollably and her shotgun was nowhere to be found. 

He was quiet as he approached, all of his red eyes staring at you with a thinly veiled fury. 

“Mars,” you groveled, “please. Let her go... I’ll do anything you want, just let her go!” 

“What I want,” he said, with a voice more emotionless than you had ever heard from anyone, “is to ruin your life like how you ruined mine.” 

He snapped Laura’s head back further and within seconds he had sunk his fangs deep into the delicate muscles of her throat. She struggled, for an instant, with a wet gurgling sound that you knew would never be able to leave your mind, before Mars threw his head back, taking with him a mouthful of flesh and cartilage. Laura choked out as her blood sprayed out of her gash, coating both of them with it, and Mars maintained eye contact with you as he tossed her corpse to the side. 

Then he began to approach you. You screamed, again, and thrashed in your spot, desperate to get as far away from him as humanly possible. When he reached you, he crawled straight over your body, forcing your back against the forest floor.  

That was when he kissed you. His tongue forced its way into your mouth where you tasted Laura’s warm blood. His bloody hands snaked their way into your hair as his eyes fluttered closed in bliss. You had no other choice but to stay in place as he manhandled you, openly sobbing as you waited for it to be over. The worst part, you think, was that it didn’t feel like he was actively trying to hurt you. 

Eventually, he ran out of breath. He stopped kissing you and simply rested his forehead against yours, just like your first meeting a lifetime ago. Your crying had subsided a bit as well, with you being too exhausted to continue. He breathed out your name, so quiet that you barely heard it, and you forced yourself to open your eyes. His remained closed, and there was a sort of peace over his features that shocked you. How could he possibly be content with himself after everything he had done?! 

The two of you stayed there for a moment before he spoke again. 

“[Y/N]… I lo-” 

He was interrupted by the sounds of police sirens in the cruelest joke that nature could’ve ever played. His eyes snapped open as he looked to the source of the sound. You watched in abject terror as the realization of what you had planned to do dawned on his face, and immediately his rage returned. His hands grabbed your shoulders as he stood up, taking you with him. No matter how hard to struggled, you could not break free of his grasp. 

“We’re going home.” 

You cried out and struggled harder as he threw you over his shoulder and took off through the dark woods. He moved so quickly and so silently that you had to keep screaming in the vain hopes that the police would be able to track your location.  

He continued to run, past your clearing and past his den, and you realized that he was taking you to the older one. No, that’s... that’s too far away! No one will ever find me there! 

All of your pleas fell on deaf ears, and soon enough you were in the area where Mars had threatened to kill you before. The immense regret that you felt that all he had predicted had come to pass was the thing to truly break you. He stood before the entrance to his den and hoisted you up over his head. You looked up above to the stars, knowing that this will be the last time you ever saw them, before he unceremoniously threw you into the darkness below. 

[hummingbird-of-light]

June of Doom Day 27

27. “I’m so sorry.”                                  

| Sacrifice | Obsession | Display |

TW: stalking, cleithrophobia, claustrophobia

A/N: Alternate Universe - Stalker/Psychopath

~

When Montgomery Scott knocked on his host's door, he didn't know how the evening would end for him.

Of course, he had high hopes for the date, because he couldn't deny that his stomach tingled every time John Harrison was around. So he definitely wouldn't be averse to the evening ending in the handsome man's bed.

He had met John on the campus of his university. Actually Scotty had intended to enroll in Starfleet, but there he had been rejected for the time being because he was supposedly too cheeky. Too smart for his own good - that's how his mother had always put it.

In the end, his IQ had led to his acceptance at a renowned university in England. With the resources he had there, he could certainly prove his transwarp beaming theory. And then Starfleet simply had to accept him.

The door opened and Scotty couldn't help but smile as he eyed his counterpart from head to toe.

John always looked stunning with his raven hair and pretty blue eyes, but today he had also dressed especially smartly.

"Hey Scotty, glad you came. Come on in."

A quick kiss on the cheek in greeting, then Scott stepped inside. He looked around. The apartment was small, but he hadn't expected much more from a fellow student.

"So this is where the great John Harrison lives. Very fancy."

He heard John's deep laugh behind him and once again his stomach fluttered.

"Well, it's not much, but it's still better than living in a frat house."

Playfully indignant, Scotty slapped the other's shoulder.

"Hey, it's not that bad!"

John just shrugged and then led Scotty into the small living room where there was a set dining table. A candle stood in the middle, flickering in the darkened room.

"Oh, how romantic. I didn't think of ye that way."

John's conspiratorial smile would have been enough of an answer, but still he gently stroked Scotty's arm and whispered in his ear.

"Well... it is a very special evening, isn't it?"

The grin on Scott's face widened and he turned to grab John by the collar and pull him closer to him.

"I suppose it is."

Kiss followed after kiss and Scotty would have preferred to lead the other directly to the sofa, but John finally stopped him. A smile was on his lips.

"Ah, ah, ah - first the main course and then dessert. I cooked especially for you, didn't I?"

Scotty sighed theatrically, but then allowed himself to be led to the table.

"All right... but I can be very impatient."

John's smile turned into a sly grin.

"Yeah, me too. But I want to enjoy this. Who knows how long this evening will last."

With those words, the host disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Scotty behind.

++++++++

They talked and laughed a lot. The food was incredibly good and Scotty knew he should never let this man go if he was such a good cook.

He didn't really want to miss a second of their date, but something distracted him.

"Uhm, excuse me, but... where's the bathroom?"

John just laughed and nodded toward the hallway.

"Out here and then just to the right."

Quickly Scotty got up and with a promise to return any moment, he headed out.

He made extra haste, but as he wanted to make his way back to the living room, his eyes fell on something lying on the floor across from the bathroom.

It was a white piece of paper. At least, that's what it looked like at first. However, when Scotty picked it up and turned it over, his breath caught.

It was... a photograph. Printed copies were a rarity, but they still existed in isolated cases.

But it was not the fact that it was a real photo that shocked Scott, but what was depicted on it.

The photo... showed him.

If it had been any picture from his social media, Scotty wouldn't even have been surprised. After all, it wasn't unusual to have a photo of one's future boyfriend.

But this picture was different. It showed him... sleeping. In his bedroom.

Where the hell had John gotten such a picture? Scotty looked at the door in front of him where the photo had been.

If he would take a quick look inside? Just a quick glance.

Carefully, his hand slid to the button beside the door and it opened with a soft hiss.

What Scotty beheld sent a cold shiver down his spine.

It was John's bedroom. There was a bed, a closet, and... walls full of photos.

They showed Scotty in all sorts of situations. Sleeping, eating, studying, shopping, meeting friends.

Scotty's pulse raced and his breathing became frantic. What kind of sick crap was this? Had... John been stalking him?

Slowly shaking his head, Scott walked across the room and looked around. This... was just crazy!

John would never...

It took a moment for the Scotsman to realize that he had better get out of this place as soon as possible.

Hastily, he left the room and went back to the living room, where John was still sitting and waiting.

"Hey, uhm... I think I'm allergic to something in the food. I... am a little nauseous. I'm so sorry, but I think I'd better go and get some rest."

Even as he said it, he automatically took a few steps backwards.

"Oh, really? Well, that's too bad, Scotty. I was actually hoping you'd spend the night with me."

John stood up and came closer. Unnoticed, Scotty let his hand slip into his back pants pocket... and he froze. Startled, he looked down.

"Oh, are you looking for this?"

His gaze wandered back to John, who was suddenly holding his communicator. When had he...

"J-John, what..."

But Scotty didn't get to finish his question, for John suddenly fired a phaser at him.

For a moment Scott still staggered, then he collapsed.

++++++++

When he woke up, he didn't know for sure where he was. All he realized was that he was lying in a kind of coffin. And that his body was stuck to the bottom of it.

No matter how hard he tried to move... he failed miserably.

Panic gripped his body and he almost hyperventilated.

"H-hey! Help! Help me!"

Tears filled his eyes. He hated it. He hated not being able to move.

"Please! Help me!"

He heard a door open and a whistle reached his ear.

"P... please."

It took a moment for the familiar face of John to appear above him. He smiled gently.

"Oh, hello, Scotty. You're awake. Have you called for me yet? I couldn't hear you. This room is soundproof, you know?"

Scotty swallowed hard. Where was he? Where had John taken him?

"I hope you're lying comfortably? You're going to be in that position for a very long time, after all."

A hand ran tenderly through his hair and Scott shivered.

"What... what do ye mean?"

John just sighed before standing up and walking around the coffin.

"I guess it's time to tell you the truth, huh? My name isn't actually John. It's just an alias I used here in England. My name is Khan. I travel around different countries and... try to expand my collection."

Scotty blinked in confusion.

"C-collection?"

John - no... Khan - nodded eagerly. His grin widened.

"I'm researching the brain waves of various geniuses, trying to find similarities and differences. I want to try to create a... perfect human being. I've been to a few countries, but you? You're very special, Scotty. Not only were you the best specimen at the university, you were... extremely attractive."

Khan knelt down again and put a hand on Scotty's cheek. He stroked it gently.

"I've taken extra time to observe you and.... to seduce you. And I was actually hoping that the two of us would at least have one nice night together before.... well... the experiment starts."

A sad sigh escaped Khan and he pouted.

"But you just had to find my bedroom, didn't you? It's a shame, really."

Scotty wanted to say something, but every sound caught in his throat.

And suddenly he felt the coffin fill with a strange liquid. It was sticky and quickly enveloped his arms and legs.

"What... what is this!!! What are ye doing?!"

In panic, he moved his eyes, trying to look around. A finger was placed on his lips.

"Shh, it's okay. It's all part of the experiment. After all, we have to make sure you lie still, don't we?"

Again the hand ran through Scott's hair and he gasped anxiously. His eyes almost threatened to fall out of his head, they were so big.

He... he would die! He would drown in this strange liquid that kept closing around his body.

"N-no... please don't. Don't kill me."

Indignation washed over Khan's face and he clicked his tongue reprovingly.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Oh, Scotty. I'm not going to kill you. You have to live, after all, so I can measure your brain waves."

He felt Khan attaching small electrodes to his head and he wanted nothing more than to shake them off again.

"I've taken care of everything. You're getting a nice ventilation system for your nose and a tube in your mouth for feeding. And I took care of the little toilet problem too, of course," Khan said with a wink before chuckling.

"You probably haven't even noticed the catheter and the rest, have you? The anesthesia will wear off soon, though."

Scotty made a choked sound as Khan put the ventilator and tube on him.

"The fluid is a little stretchy, so there's nothing in the way of breathing and swallowing movements. It's not like this is the first time I've done this. So you have nothing to worry about, Scotty."

Nothing to worry about? Nothing to worry about?! Khan was turning him into a living statue!

He could no longer speak because of the tube that reached into his throat, but he stared at his counterpart in shock, begging for him to stop.

"I would advise you to close your eyes, though. You don't want them to stay open forever, do you?"

The liquid rose and Scotty squeezed his eyes shut, letting the tears run free.

"Tomorrow we're already traveling to the next country. I'm looking forward to making another friend for you. And I thank you for your participation in this experiment. Good night, Scotty."

A kiss on his lips, then the coffin was sealed with a lid. And Scotty disappeared into the worst nightmare of his life.

[stripeixii]

The glow in the dark thing is actually really funny considering cleith Lora spent most of the time in the dark

GB and Lora!

Cleithrophobia Ballora desigh: Me

Glamrock Ballora design: @skeletoninthemelonland

(Gumandarim on twitter)

[littlegaytwatfan-ficwritingcrow]

(NOT SO) DAILY UPDATE LOG #1

- CLEITHROPHOBIA

Word count so far: 6K

Yo that's kind of sick!! I haven't written this much in a hot minute.

(The tw list so far guys)

So far I've planned out 2 of the 3 endings, and written about half of what I want the main section BEFORE the endings to be. It's been pretty neat. I spent most of yesterday and the day before plotting and figuring out the technical stuffs so I pretty much know my canon now!! Today I'm working on some of the actual writing, but I've been a bit distracted lmao.

Peace out dudes.

[aikoiya]

Yeah & I wish more fans would delve into this idea of him being cleithrophobic too.

It can easily be used to get him to take up things like escapology & lockpicking.

Basically, just make him Houdini.

Is Adrien claustrophobic?

I get the whole “hate being locked up” thing, but what about claustrophobia in general? Can we say for certain that Adrien is claustrophobic? I remember a piece of art saying that he was, but I don’t see enough of the show to know for certain? So what do we think? Is Adrien Agreste claustrophobic?