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livelaughwhump · 1 year

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Worthless - Part 15

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Content: disordered eating, brief mention of vomiting, self-deprecation, self-hatred, panic attack, overstimulation, flashback, nightmare, dehumanization, pet whump, hurt/comfort

If I missed any content warnings, please let me know!

(Italicized text indicates a flashback within a nightmare)

Elliot wasn't feeling well.

At supper, he hardly ate. He only took about three bites before he started feeling nauseous, but he didn't want to worry his friends. So, he ignored the feeling and pushed the rest of his food around his plate. His eyes felt misty and he was clenching his jaw tight to keep his chin from trembling.

It wasn't just physically, however, but emotionally as well. After supper, he watched his friends mill about, cleaning up from the meal, and the familiar feeling of utter uselessness crept into the pit of his stomach. He'd asked if he could help, but Karine had turned him down without an explanation. He wondered if he'd done something wrong.

Physically, Elliot wasn't doing particularly well either. He was lightheaded and jittery and his skin was sickly pale. He had nearly collapsed just getting out of bed that morning, but he didn't tell any of his friends. He didn't want to worry them anymore, especially not with something as trivial as his physical health.

Now, after everything was cleaned up and put away, Elliot was sitting on a comfy chair in the living room, a warm, fluffy blanket wrapped around his small shoulders. The television was off and everyone else was chatting in the kitchen. Elliot was alone, staring at the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest.

His stomach was cramping and gurgling; his eyes were watering. Elliot unintentionally released a small yelp in both pain and frustration. It wasn't fair. Why was this happening to him? This happened every time he tried to eat, and it wasn't fair. He wanted to be good and get better, like his friends wanted, but his stupid, useless body wouldn't even let him eat!

"Stupid slut. Your mouth isn't for eating."

Elliot yelped and shuddered and curled into an even tighter ball, desperate to cover himself more. His throat felt tight. Suddenly, the three bites of food in his stomach were no longer the only cause of his nausea.

Yvonne approached him just then, a steaming mug in her hands. He didn't know where she had come from. Perhaps he was too lost in his mind to see her leave the kitchen. "Hey, darling. How are you doing?"

Elliot paused. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to worry her, either. What would she think if he told her the truth? He pulled the fluffy blanket tighter around himself. "I'm-I'm fine."

Bad pet

Elliot suppressed a flinch. He could already hear the hiss of the whip cutting through the air.

Yvonne wasn't convinced. "You hardly touched your supper. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

She noticed. Useless bitch

Elliot shrunk. "I'm-I'm sorry, Yvonne. I-I know you and L-Lyra worked hard on-on it, but-but I just...wasn't hungry." Lying made him feel even more sick. Pets don't lie to their superiors. Was the memory of the whip getting louder?

"Oh...well, you looked a little down, so I made you some tea! It's peppermint, your favorite," she exclaimed.

Guilt swelled in Elliot's chest.

They waste so much time and effort on you, and for what? So you can take advantage of their kindness? Spoiled bitch

Elliot lowered his head. "Thank you, Yvonne," he mumbled. "You didn't have to do that."

Yvonne tilted her head to the side. "Are you feeling okay, darling? You don't look so good."

Ugly mutt

Elliots eyes stung. "I'm-I'm fine. Karine told-told me to sit and relax, so-so I just feel...useless."

Yvonne furrowed her brows. "That's not what I mean, love." She set the mug down beside him and gently cupped his face in her hands. "You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping well?"

Elliot clenched his jaw. He'd been sleeping fine, that wasn't the problem. "I-I've been sleeping fine."

Yvonne pursed her lips. "Then, perhaps you're sick. I'm gonna go get Broderick." Before Elliot could say anything in response, Yvonne turned and began to walk away from him.

Elliot's eyes widened. "No, wait-" As he stood up, black dots clouded his vision and he grew lightheaded. His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the wooden floor, his eyelids fluttering.

"Elliot!" He heard Yvonne's voice shout. With his ear pressed to the ground, he could make out the sound of several sets of footsteps rushing toward him, but his vision was too blurry to make out anything. He closed his eyes, exhaustion overtaking his body as he slipped out of consciousness.

. . .

"Ch-Christian, please," Elliot begged, arms wrapped around his shivering form. There were tears in his eyes as he stared up at his captor. The chain around his ankle rattled as he shifted his position. "I-I'm s-so h-hungry. P-Please."

Christian held up at the remote in his hand, his thumb hovering over the button. "You're still new here, pet, so I'm giving you a chance to correct yourself. You do not call me by my name, ever. If you use the correct title, perhaps I will reward you with a meal."

Elliot clenched his jaw, his bottom lip quivering. "I'd rather starve," he spat.

Christian grimaced. "Fine," he whispered. He pocketed the remote. "Have it your way." Christian turned, sauntering toward the stairs leading out of the basement. "If you still have some defiance in you, you're clearly not starving enough. Perhaps another week without food will be enough to show you your place, mutt."

Hot, angry tears slipped down Elliot's face. "I-I will never submit to you," he said. "I'd rather die than be your little dog!"

Christian froze at the bottom of the stairs. He hummed in deep thought. "I've changed my mind," he announced. Elliot shivered. "I suppose, if you're really so hungry, what kind of master would I be to deprive you?" Those words offered Elliot no relief. In fact, his fear only grew as Christian slowly disappeared up the stairs.

Elliot could hear him milling around above him. It wasn't more than two minutes later that Christian returned, holding a bowl in each hand. He wore a sinister smile as he descended the stairs, and Elliot pushed himself as far as he could into the corner of the basement.

Christian stopped directly in front of Elliot and chuckled. "Poor thing. You must be absolutely starving," he mocked. Elliot wanted to retort, but his fear kept his mouth clamped shut. He eyed the two bowls warily. "Good thing I'm such a generous master."

Christian set both bowls down in front of Elliot. One of them was full of clean, clear water, while the other was almost overflowing with dog kibble. Elliot felt his heart sink.

"Go on, eat up," Christian commanded, a proud grin on his face. "I can't imagine how hungry you must be."

Elliot's lower lip was trembling. He was so hungry, and if Christian insisted so strongly on treating him like a dog, he knew this was all he was going to get. He didn't even have the energy to be angry or offended. The grumbling of his stomach drowned all of that out.

Elliot burst into tears and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. "Why-Why are you s-so cruel?" He mumbled. "Why do you h-hate me?"

"Aw." Christian kneeled down to his level and began to scratch behind his ear. "Poor puppy. This stuff is good for you. I promise, I did my research and I was sure to buy only the best brand for my perfect little pet."

Elliot only cried harder at that. He was so, so hungry and he missed his friends and he wanted to go home.

Lyra, please help me

That night, Elliot cried himself to sleep in the corner of his cell with a full belly and the lingering taste of dog food in his mouth.

. . .

Elliot awoke still feeling exhausted. There was a deep ache in his stomach and he moaned in discomfort. He opened his eyes to find that he was curled up in his own bed, natural light spilling over him from his window. There was a rotten taste in his mouth, the memory still lingering in the forefront of his mind.

Broderick was sitting beside his bed, seeming to not have noticed that Elliot had awoken. Elliot glanced over at the table beside his bed and noticed a glass of water waiting there. Desperate to get the taste of death out of his mouth, his weakly reached for it, and it was only then that Broderick noticed that he was awake.

"Hey, sweet," he said as he handed Elliot the water. Elliot tried to grasp onto the glass, but his was too weak and exhausted, so Broderick held the glass to his lips as he drank. "How are you feeling? Yvonne said you fainted."

Elliot froze. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell him the truth, that would only make his whole team worry about him! They had enough on their plates without having to start worrying about Elliot's eating habits.

Just then, like a traitorous crack of thunder, his stomach growled. Elliot quickly wrapped his arms around his stomach, hoping Broderick hadn't noticed. However, when Elliot saw the understanding bloom across Broderick's face, he knew he'd figured it out.

"When was the last time you ate?" Broderick questioned, staring at Elliot with piercing brown eyes. Elliot shrunk under the medic's gaze. He desperately didn't want to answer. His friends would be so angry with him. "El?" Tears brimmed Elliot's eyes, threatening to spill over. He couldn't bring himself to answer. "Sweetheart, I can't help you if you don't tell me. Please."

Elliot sniffled, wiping away his tears before they fell. "It-It was b-before Lyra left," he admitted. Red-hot shame burned his face. He refused to look at the expression on Broderick's face. "They-They made me breakfast, and-and ate with me in my-my room."

The air in the room grew heavy and Elliot felt like he could barely breathe. He was so ashamed.

"So..." Broderick began. "What was that, like five or six days ago?"

Elliot sniffled and nodded.

"Why haven't you been eating?"

Immediately after those words were uttered, Elliot burst into tears, hiding his burning face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry, please, don't be angry with me. I'm so, so sorry."

"Whoa, whoa, hey, it's okay," Broderick said, reaching out a hand to rest on Elliot's knee. Elliot flinched, but he didn't push Broderick away. "It's okay. I'm not angry, honest. Everything is okay."

Elliot could hardly hear him over his own loud sobbing.

You're pathetic. What kind of stupid animal can't even eat properly?

Elliot hated himself. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just do as he was told?

"Hey, hey, hey," Broderick whispered. "It's okay, I promise. You're not in trouble. I didn't mean to upset you, sweet, I'm just worried." That only seemed to make it worse. Broderick gingerly rubbed Elliot's back, unsure of how else to comfort him. Broderick pursed his lips. "Hey, why don't you just get some rest, okay? I won't bother you about this anymore. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Elliot sniffled. He was shaking like a leaf; his eyes were streaming. "I'm-I'm so s-orry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, it's okay. You don't have to talk about it yet. I understand." Broderick thought for a moment, wishing he could understand what Elliot was going through. "Would you...feel more comfortable talking to someone else?" Elliot glanced up with red-rimmed eyes. "Like Lyra? They're pretty easy to talk to. I know I'm supposed to be the medic, but...I can tell this is a little more of a-a mental thing than a physical one. I'm not great at that kind of stuff, so I understand if you don't wanna talk to me. I won't be offended."

Elliot didn't say anything, but his gaze wavered. His sobbing had lessened significantly, but he was still trembling. "It's-It's not a mental thing," he mumbled. "I just-I just don't wanna be a-a burden. I'm fine, really."

Why couldn't he stop lying? He wasn't fine. He hadn't properly eaten in days, and the last time he did, he'd thrown it all up anyway, so did it even count? What was wrong with him?

"El, you need to eat. Starving yourself isn't good for you. It'll only make you feel worse."

Elliot tried to keep himself from crying again. "I'm-I'm not trying to-to starve myself. I-I'm so sorry. I'm just-just useless."

"Elliot-"

Before Broderick could finish his thought, the door creaked open and both men fixed their eyes on their visitor. Lyra was the first to enter, a worried smile on their face. Karine and Yvonne were quick to follow, until the only team member that wasn't crowding around Elliot's bed was Landon.

"Hey, sunshine," Lyra greeted as they knelt down on the opposite side of Elliot's bed from Broderick. "We heard voices in here and wanted to see if you were awake."

Elliot hid his face from his teammates as his cheeks gradually grew hotter and hotter. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? Why couldn't they just let him suffer in peace? Why did they have to make a big deal out of something that already brought him so much shame?

"How are you feeling?" Yvonne asked, her voice shaking slightly with concern. "You really scared us, passing out like that."

Elliot flinched. "S-Sorry," he whispered, so quiet he wasn't sure if anyone even heard.

"Oh, no! It's not your fault, love. I didn't mean to blame you."

"Yvonne," Karine said, stopping Yvonne's ramble there. Yvonne blushed and shut her mouth as Karine turned back to look at Elliot. She smiled. "How are you feeling, buddy? Do you know why you passed out?"

Elliot cast a quick glance over to Broderick, his eyes pleading for the medic not to say anything. Unfortunately, Elliot's silent message seemed to get lost in translation.

Broderick smiled in response, as though to say don't worry, I'll tell them for you. Elliot didn't have the chance to so much as react before Broderick said, "Yeah, we figured it out."

Lyra lifted their brows, taking hold of one of Elliot's slender hands and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Well, what happened?" Karine questioned.

Elliot braced himself for Broderick's next words.

"Well, he told me that he hasn't eaten in almost a week," Broderick revealed.

Red hot shame crept upon Elliot's face. He lowered his head to hide his embarrassment and squeezed his eyes shut to hold back his tears.

"What?" Lyra gasped. Elliot flinched, a soft whimper escaping his throat. Their grip on his hand tightened.

"Elliot," Yvonne said, softly.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Karine exclaimed.

Elliot held his breath. The tears building behind his eyes were threatening to spill, and Elliot couldn't bear anymore humiliation in that moment. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to melt into the sheets of his bed and never be heard from again. He just wanted to be alone!

"El?"

A quiet sob escaped his throat in the form of a pathetic squeak.

Please, stop touching me

Stop looking at me

Stop pitying me

Stop, just STOP!!

Elliot couldn't hold back his anguish anymore. Tears burst from his eyes, his breath was quick, uneven, and ragged. His skin was burning, especially where his friends were still touching him. The sun was too bright, the ringing in his ears was too loud, his chest hurt with how hard his heart was pounding, and he just wanted it all to stop!

Lyra's eyes were wide with concern as she stared at Elliot's panicked state. She'd witnessed his panic attacks before, but this was different. "Elliot?" She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Sunshine, what's-" Elliot yelped and shied away from her touch, curling into himself. He was trembling harder than he had since they'd first rescued him.

"Broderick, what's going on?" Yvonne asked, her voice shaking.

Lyra's mind had gone white, her eyes stinging.

Broderick shook his head. "I-I don't know." He gently touched Elliot's knee, only for Elliot to abruptly lurch backwards, clutching his knees close to his chest.

"No!" Elliot shouted. "Don't touch me!"

"I'm sorry, sweet," Broderick said. "We didn't mean to upset you. We're just trying to help."

Several loud sobs rose from Elliot's chest. "No, no, no, no," he cries, his face buried between his knees. "Don't look at me. Go away! Just leave me alone!"

To say that everyone in the room was shocked by Elliot's outburst was an understatement. He had shouted at Lyra before, but not like this. Before, he was simply shouting degrading things about himself. Now, he was yelling at his friends to leave.

"Guys," Karine said. "Let's give him some space."

As much as Lyra didn't want to leave Elliot in that state, they didn't really know how else to help him. He wanted them to leave, so that was the best they could do for him.

Elliot didn't register the sound of his friends leaving over his own loud sobs. In fact, he didn't even notice they were gone until he forced his eyes open. Although it was hard to see through the distorted lens of his tears, all he found was an empty room staring back at him.

Elliot sniffled and furiously scrubbed at the tears on his face as he slowly worked himself beneath his comforter. He began cocooning himself in his blankets until not even a single strand of his hair was visible.

. . .

The house was disturbingly quiet when Landon walked in, grocery bags in hand. Broderick, Yvonne, Lyra, and Karine were all sitting silently in the living room, somber looks on their faces. Elliot was nowhere to be seen.

"Whoa, who died?" Landon joked, laughing at himself. The rest of the team, however, didn't find his joke as funny as he did. They all looked at him, completely unamused, and Landon's smile vanished. "Someone didn't actually die, did they? Where's Elliot?"

Lyra scoffed. "Elliot's fine." They took a sip of their lukewarm tea, refusing to look at Landon. "He's just in his room."

"Well, then what happened? Why does everyone look so depressed?"

For a few seconds, there was no answer. Landon's arms began to ache from the heavy bags he was carrying. All four team members exchanged looks with one another, as though expecting someone else to start speaking.

Eventually, Yvonne said, "We upset Elliot and he told us to leave him alone."

Landon's eyes went round and he nearly dropped his bags in shock. "Elliot said that?" He exclaimed. Yvonne nodded. "Damn. What happened?"

After another few seconds of silence, each of the four team members took turns explaining to Landon what had transpired while he was gone. When they were finished, the grocery bags were abandoned by the front door and all five of them were sitting in a circle. Landon didn't know what to say.

"He's calmed down a bit now," Lyra said. "But it was pretty bad for a while. He hasn't left his room since."

Landon was silent for a few seconds, allowing his brain to process what he'd just heard. "Shit," he breathed. "Well...at least he's setting boundaries and telling you what he wants. That's progress, right?"

The group nodded. "Yeah, but that's not what we're upset about," Broderick said. "We made him cry! That's the opposite of what we're supposed to be doing!"

"Yeah, I know, but I'm just trying to find some kind of silver lining."

Lyra scoffed again. "Okay, first of all, since when do you care about being positive?" Landon didn't get the chance to answer before she continued, "And second of all, what is there to be positive about? Elliot's starving himself and he won't talk to anyone!"

"He's probably just embarrassed," Landon suggested. "I mean, he's always been self-conscious about his size, right? And now, he's even smaller than he used to be."

"Then, why would he starve himself?" Lyra exclaimed. There were tears in her eyes. "If he was self-conscious about his size, why would he continue to avoid eating? It doesn't make any sense, I-" Lyra buried her face in her hands, quiet sobs escaping her throat. "I never wanted this for him. He didn't deserve any of this. He's always been a good person, why is this happening to him?" No one knew what to do or say to console her. She looked exhausted and distraught, and no one knew what to do. How was one meant to comfort the caretaker?

Lyra sniffled and whimpered. "I-I just want him to be happy and safe and-and loved, but-but the world is so cruel to him. It's not fair. Why does Christian get to walk free while Elliot has to suffer?"

"Lye," Karine said softly. Lyra glanced up between her fingers. "We're doing all we can. Landon's right. Him setting boundaries is a good thing, and I know it's hard seeing him in so much pain, but he's going to get better. We're going to help him."

Lyra forced themself to take a breath, wiping the tears off of their cheeks. They nodded, silently.

"So...what should we do?" Yvonne asked. "He can't go on like this. He needs to eat."

The room was silent for a beat while the team struggled to come up with a solution.

"Maybe...Maybe only one of us should go talk to him," Broderick suggested. The team looked up at him, no one bothering to give any input. "Maybe we just overwhelmed him, all of us talking at once."

"What do you mean?" Karine asked.

"I mean, he had just woken up from passing out. Then, four of us crowded around his bed and started bombarding him with questions. I'd freak out too, wouldn't you?"

"But who should go in?" Karine asked.

"I'll go," Lyra volunteered.

"No, you need a break," Karine protested.

"I had a break. I was gone for three days."

"Yes, but I feel like seeing him like this will upset you too much. You've taken on the brunt of the responsibility, but there are five of us. Let someone else take this one."

Lyra sighed, her shoulders sagging. "Fine," she said. "Who's gonna do it?"

Everyone looked at each other, waiting for the others to volunteer. The air in the room was thin and tense. It wasn't that no one wanted to talk to Elliot. They were just afraid of hurting him again.

Broderick sighed. "I guess...I could go talk to him." Everyone looked at him, but no one protested. "I need to get over my fear of hurting him. I've hardly spoken to him since the...bathroom incident." Curiosity bloomed across Lyra's face, but they didn't press him for an explanation. That was a conversation for another time. "Besides, if he's starving, I suppose this would count as a medical emergency. Maybe I can come up with a solution."

Karine nodded. "Sounds like valid reasoning to me. Are you gonna be okay?"

Broderick nodded, pushing himself out of his chair. "I'll be fine. But if anyone hears any loud sobbing, I may need some backup."

The team chuckled, but it was weak and uncomfortable.

"Wish me luck," Broderick said as he looked in the direction of Elliot's quiet room. Any response the team gave fell on deaf ears as Broderick approached the door. He thought back to what Lyra had said earlier.

"Why does Christian get to walk free while Elliot has to suffer?"

Broderick wished he had an answer. More than that, he wished it were the other way around. In that moment, as he knocked on Elliot's door, Broderick decided that someday, he would make sure that it would be.

Honestly, I actually really like how this chapter turned out, despite the rocky start it had😅

I hope you enjoyed!!😊

Taglist:

@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream @honeycollectswhump @rabass @whumpdreamz @clairelsonao3

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ask-elliotgang · 1 year

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(@ask-the-shiny-pokemons) Rimi @ Ardel: "I was wonderin', since you were grew up in the orphanage with your friends, what did life looks like?" She asked with her jacket off. "I have a friend who was in the orphanage, until he was adopted by an Eevee so he didn't remember that much."

Ardel squints a bit, recalling memories before answering.

ARDEL: "I don't think a lot of people would remember their younger days, but I was there at the orphanage from around the ages of 10-17 so it was a major part of my childhood. I remember it more clearly than the others I think. I was the second oldest there. barely a few months younger then Zeppelin. Everyone else were younger. Serene is only about 2 years behind me and she was the next oldest so. The ages range a lot."

ARDEL: "... Sometimes I think I remember more than I should."

Do you wanna press on asking further? Yes? No?

#ardel arc: thalassophobia #ardel the mightyena #ardel #mightyena #ask-the-shiny-pokemons #rimi lycanroc #// EVERYONE FUCKNG APPRECIATE THAT FLASHBACK IMAGE DRAWING THAT BED MADE ME WANT TO PUT MY ARMS INTO WORKING MACHINE PARTS #tw flashback #luke achilles #luke the ralts #serene laurence #serene the larvesta #intel kaihagen #intel the scorchar #mausa kouki #mausa the shiny poochyena #zeppelin the galar zapdos #zeppelin

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ptsdpizzaparty · 7 months

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some ptsd flashbacks can be deceptively subtle while being profoundly demoralizing. like i'll just be having a casual suffer and then it'll occur to me that i'm having an internal experience that can only be described as "12 year old afraid and stuck in their room with no one to turn to as they just silently play the sims for 16 hours straight to cope"

n it's like .... oh hey right that was a before thing

#ptsd #cptsd #womp #flashback #tw flashback

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ojiro-s-hellish-site · 10 months

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Another meme dump cause I am that bored :|

#tw mental instability #tw mental illness #humour #mental health memes #yes i have a problem #tw flashback #tw flashbacks

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thestarseersystem · 1 year

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The worst part about being traumatized is that you still feel like you're in the past. Especially when things go wrong in the present. It feels like I'm not here. It feels like I can't escape. It feels so lonely.

I still feel like I'm being haunted and abused by N, someone who is gone. I still feel like I can hear the condescension in my old friend's voices. I feel like I am back there once again, everytime I turn my head, those bodies towering over me.

Its really hard to not get along with people in the present, because I still feel like I'm suddenly back there. I feel like I will never leave their stupid little games. Like I have to play the role, lest I get murdered in the bathroom. They leer and listen from the sidelines, calling out nicknames and accuse me of enjoying the pain that I put others through. They accuse me of enjoying the role that I was given.

If I am not playing on the stage, other people will be forced to. I must do my part, I must compel others to do theirs. Lest we all die. Lest we are forced into this game again.

I don't want to be hurt again. I must play the part so others can't get hurt. I mustn't let others break the fall. I must remember everything so others can gently forget. I must pretend everything's okay, lest they get me too.

#vent.txt #tw flashback #im not okay im not... i dont know where i am #i dont want others to be hurt because of me #but i wish everyone was here again so i wouldnt feel alone upon this stage #please dont hurt me

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reddoesthingsfinally · 2 years

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I keep panicking about how I'm faking (and then about how I'm faking thinking I'm faking...I've reached a new level apparently) and everyone is so incredibly tired of it because I've been actively avoiding looking at anything system-related for 2 years specifically because I didn't want to confront the idea of me possibly being a system. I'll start panicking and everyone nearby will pop up like 'WE KNOW YOU'RE NOT FAKING OH MY GOODNESS'. Sorry guys, this ain't gonna go away anytime soon.

On another note, someone started talking to my friend more openly, and it seems like they're getting along, so that's good. She got stuck in front for 4 hours yesterday (usually she can't stay in front for longer than 45 minutes when she tries) so they took that time to chat. Mildly irritated 'cause I keep having to remind her, no, you can't flirt with my BFF, are you kidding me? And yet she still tries.

Also apparently we need to find positive triggers for someone to come to front because the person that got stuck for 4 hours was very unhappy, but anyone that could've fully(?) fronted either had only negative triggers known (Red), or no known triggers at all (me).

We're going swimming with our scouts on Sunday, so I'm excited for that, but I'm a little nervous because Red doesn't like swimming. Hopefully, she's not triggered to front at some point on Sunday because I love swimming, on the other hand. A couple of others may be triggered out, but I believe one of them likes swimming (especially underwater), and while I'm unsure about the other one, the first one says that the shallow end at least should be fine. I'm bringing my cane so I'm hoping we don't get any crap about it, lest one of our...less-water-fond Protectors front. Hopefully, it will be fine.

Also, can other alters have flashbacks without you having flashbacks? Someone was having rapid flashbacks last night while co-fronting, and I got a bit of the anxiety and stuff, but not enough for me to stop functioning. But someone else was co-fronting and panicking enough that we couldn't do our entire bedtime routine quick enough to get to bed, so we had to make makeshift grounding techniques until we got to bed and could do something more functional. I might've gotten a glimpse of some of the flashbacks, but I didn't have any emotion attached to it until my alter started panicking. Maybe I was panicking about them panicking, idk. The main question is, is that something that can happen? Or did I just make it up?

Sorry for all of the rambling, I'm tired and needed to get some thoughts out.

#questioning system #am i a system?#do i have alters?#am i faking it?#flashback #flashback tw #tw flashback #ramble #i'm so blurry rn #sorry

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sanriosratz · 2 years

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TW // mention of waterboarding, flashbacks, panic attacks, and implied trauma

under the cut

because of Adrian’s past trauma with waterboarding from his father, washing his hair is incredibly hard

and whenever he was in the bathroom, he could not have the door closed, so that was another thing that he had to work through [with his therapist]

there are only very few people that Adrian trusts to help wash his hair (Jasier mainly), and every time he does panic attacks, and/or flashbacks are very common. luckily Jasier is super understanding and sweet about it all and stops immediately when he notices Adrian getting upset and helps them through it, reminding them to breathe and such

#creepypasta #kuraitsume’s parents #jasier taira #kuraitsume’s tattoo & piercing parlour #pigment of your imagination #adrian #adrian lucas beck #tw waterboarding #tw waterboarding mention #tw flashback #tw flashback mention #tw panic attack #tw panic attack mention #tw implied trauma #ask to tw

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kaizokuseb · 2 years

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i’ve never really claimed to have ptsd because i was never diagnosed with it, so i don’t know if this is what that is, but i definitely just had like. a flashback? no details because i’m actually shaking a little right now and don’t wanna talk about it, but i was talking to my mom and something triggered me and it was like i was there for just a second. like i knew i wasnt, i wasn’t fully lost in it, but i felt all those feelings again. i asked her to change the subject and we talked about something else so i was distracted but i’m calmed down enough to think about it now. i definitely just almost had a panic attack, literally realized that halfway through typing this lmao

#whew okay i’m gonna play a game or something until this isn’t so fresh #tw panic attack #ptsd #maybe #tw flashback #i’ll think more about this later when it doesn’t feeling like poking a bruise #trauma

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tertiusdecimusfilius · 11 days

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"I promise that you're safe. Please get some sleep."

Lack Of Sleep Starters || Accepting!

Robert looked up when said that, snapped out of the strange sleep deprived state he was in. "No, it's not that, I-"

He looked down at Connor who was half in his lap, paws and head firmly against his leg. The shepherd only did that when he was having a panic attack, a flashback, or during a cardiac alert. For a moment the man didn't remember what they had been talking about or doing just before this. Robert sighed, scratching Connor's head.

It seemed like he had a flashback. His face flushed a little, feeling a slight bit of embarrassment. He hoped he hadn't said anything out loud. The lack of sleep tended to heighten the frequency of things like that.

"Sorry. I... I know. I just can't get my brain to shut off sometimes. Even with the medicine."

#the avenging son || self #the dreamer of terra || shy #robert is just a normal guy || present day verse #tw flashback

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voidselfshipp · 21 days

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Too Sweet

Cw:mentions of blood,implications of Gore,slaughter, war, mania attacks + ptsd flashbacks.

Summary: during one of their sieges, The Mechanisms split off to take care of the occupying forces of King Cole's army. One of them gets too close to Jerico and Tim sees red.

>no rbs, please.

Adrenaline surged through tims body as he laid there hands dripping with blood, a soldier dead before him.

His body shakes a manic grin on his face as he looks at the bloody corpse, laugh starting to echo from his throat. The world around him is a blurr,his eyes are wide and his pupils are small dots in his gorgeous brown iris.

With shaking hands, he lets go of his victims throat-- I told you not to touch her--He muttered with a shaky unstable voice,laughter soon leaves him.

"Thats- thats what he gets- thats what they get for- for touching her! Haha! Nobody touches my- My girlf- my friend" he thinks, slowly straightening up from his half bowed position.

--Hah-- He scoffs, smoothing his beautiful brown curly hair with his bloodstained hand-- hah, wanker...you really thought...you could hurt her

Around him the world is Fire,burning and crumbling buildings, dead bodies all around, vehicles no more than scrap and black smoke clouds rising from the pyres up to the Sky

The Mechanisms had come here to fight against an occupying force, one of the soldiers tried to stab Jerico in the neck...and Tim saw red and ripped the soldier appart with hands and teeth.

--Tim...--calls out jerico,lowering her sniper rifle. She grabs one of his hands Gently,it smothers with blood-- Tim im okay

He turns to her,eyes still wide and fingers twitching-- Doll....doll-- he throws himself at her,cupping her cheeks and looking for any scratches--Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do- do I need to call Marius?! Please tell me youre okay- i cant- I cant lose you,I cant lose you like bertie...!

She takes his wrists and says--Tim, Tim its okay im okay,im safe

Tims eyes look around her face and body,his hands pressing against her waist,her shoulders and her hips,staining her clothes with crimson sploches.

--Its okay,im not hurt,you saved me--She cooed, bringing Him in for a tight hug. His forehead falls limply on her shoulder as she strokes up and down his spine.

A shaky breath leaves him, his twitching hands unsure where to rest. Even when he tries he accidentally tugs at her clothes,gasping for air.

--I cant lose you,I cant lose you-- He whispers,tears threatening to spill-- dont die- please dont die...dont die on me I cant-- with a quivering Lower lip-- I cant- I love you so much, please dont leave me...dont leave me forever

His words take her by surprise,she squeezes him into a tight hug and his hands finally settle on her Lower back--I cant live without you--He mutters, hot tears falling down his face and onto the exposed shoulder of his companion.

--Easy,Tim. You saved me, see? 'M okay-- she promised-- see? Im alright --He nodds weakly-- c'mon lets go back to the ship

Trying to tug him along, he stops her by not moving and squeezing her. Shes quick go get the memo and nodds.

--Oooooor we can stay a little longer, thats alright too--She added, understanding he needs more time.

Both stand there among the rubble of the crumbling,blazen And charcoal blackened city. Civilian,soldier and resistance laid dead across the floor with blood and ash mixed into a paste of death, they only Hear the distant Shouts of the ongoing battle,the crackling of the pyres anf the ocassional crumble of debries.

Tim can only concentrate on that orchestra of destruction and Demise,the images of Berties death passing through his head over and over again. Its vivid,its Like hes there again holding his best friend in his arms.

--It can't be said I'm an early bird--She sings softly--It's ten o'clock before I say a word

Baby, I can never tell

How do you sleep so well

It catches tims attention, slowly bringing him back to earth,to present time,to safety.

--You keep tellin' me to live right

To go to bed before the daylight

But then you wake up for the sunrise

You know you don't gotta pretend

Baby, now and then-- jerico puts her hands on his biceps and rocks Him side to side softly.

Silken voice fills his ears and eases his heart and mind,it wraps around his soul like a blanket.

--Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake

Smellin' like a bonfire, lost in a haze?-- she continues and he slowly humms along--

If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great

But while in this world

A shaky sigh leaves him,his body relaxing and laying on her for support-- I think I'll take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three-- both entone,tims voice slowly gaining more strength---

You're too sweet for me

I take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

She smiles and he joins In with those side to side movements. One hand on her waist and the other holding hers,fingers entwined as if both were dancing.

--You're too sweet for me

You're too sweet for me-- He sings at her, as if he didnt deserve this softness.

He pulls her to waltz,turning slowly. Tim hasnt moved his head and he'd rather not, he feels safe in her embrace.

The world still burns around them with the ash falling like a tragic snowfall, the air smells of smoke and gunpowder.

--I aim low

I aim true and the ground is where I go --He takes the lead,singing to her,meaning the words--

I work late where I'm free from the phone

And the job gets done

But you worry some, I know

But who wants to live forever, babe?

You treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate

The rest of you like you're the TSA

I wish I could go along

Babe, don't get me wrong

His voice gets flirty again as it usually is, she feels him smile against her skin and his head rises just enough so their eyes meet.

They spend a few more minutes dancing and singing softly. When he feels better and back with his boots on the ground, he looks at her and says--C'mon,lets go back before the guys freak out

And leading her by the hand they return to the Aurora. The Group asked if everything is okay and why they took so long to get back, and jer just dismisses it.

Nobody questions why Tim leads jeri to the showers, or why they spend so much time in there.

She scrubbs off the blood from his fingers,the same song they were singing now playing from a radio she took into the room.

《You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait

Until that day》

He watches her with tired eyes--I- you dont gotta do it...

--Its okay,I want to take care of you--She answers, taking his still bloody hands and kissing his knuckles.

Tim sighs under his breath and softly says--I dont...I dont deserve it

--Yes you do,dont say that.

In silence he lets her scrub off the blood from his hands and his mouth,then comb the hair products on his brown locks that now stick to his face

《I'd rather take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for me

I take my whiskey neat

My coffee black and my bed at three

You're too sweet for me

You're too sweet for me》

His hands rest on her waist and he helps her out a little,as much as his shaken up nervous system could allow.

--Sorry...sorry I cant be of no more help-- He mutters,voice weak and tired.

Jeri shakes her head-- Dont be,its okay

After the shower they change into something more comfortable, casual "at home" clothes to unwind. Then,they go to the 'livingroom' of the ship where everyone was.

Its not only so everyone could take stock of one another to make sure nobody was missing so it calmed their anxiety, but also a way to make everyone unwind and feel safe.

Merchant has Tim leaning on her shoulder,drifting off to sleep while she crochets Him a small headband with a sprout growing out of It

Nastya is playing her violin, the toy soldier and Ivy play checkers. Raphaella and Ashes are leaning on one another on another couch,asleep. Meanwhile,Marius, brian and Jhonny are playing poker.

Its good to see Tim resting up and feeling better, he was a very light sleeper and the few things that couldnt wake him up was Nastya's violin,quiet chatter and the purr of the octokittens.

Like that,the crew settles down and relaxes after a long day of slaughter.

#platonic f/o: gunpowder Tim #t.m (band) s/i #cw blood #tw blood #tw fire mentions #cw fire mentions #tw mania #cw mania #cw flashback #tw flashback #ask to tag #cw feelings of unworthiness #tw feelings of unworthiness #tw feelings of unworthyness #cw feelings of unworthyness

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written-by-jayy · 4 months

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Whumpcember, day 3: Hypothermia-

CW: Hypothermia, PTSD, Flashback, Vague backstory

Word count: 825

Chapter 1 pt.1, Chapter 1 pt.2

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Adam ran. He ran for his life. He wasn't sure where he was running to but knew where and what and who he was running from. Anywhere was better than there.

He knew it was hopeless. The ground was covered in a blanket of deep snow, not only making in hard for him to run, but also leaving an obvious trail of footprints leading straight to him.

His only hope was that the storm he was running directly into would be a snowstorm.

He could still hear the shouting of the prison hospital guards staff, accompanied by the barking of dogs.

God, why did he ever think this would be a good idea? Why would he ever think he could ever escape? Ever outrun them? Ever be free and safe?

How could he be.

So.

Stupid.

In one hand he gripped his two blood-stained, water-logged, half frozen stuffies. His only source of comfort in his time at the hospital.

In the other he held a pistol.

He had no clue how aim nor fire a gun and even if he did know how, he prayed he wouldn't have to. If it was even loaded. He had grabbed it on his way out the ground-floor window from which he had escaped. He guessed that one of the security had left it there after cleaning it.

His tears were nearly frozen to his cheeks as he ran through the icy wind which was slowly picking up as he ran closer to the storm. His ragged and torn 'clothes' flapped, blowing in the same way as his short, tangled hair.

Was the yelling getting closer? Or was he just paranoid?

His lungs burned and he could barely breathe.

He could feel his knees buckle and nearly give out. He stumbled forward and barely caught himself.

Now they were definitely closer. With every trip and slip and dodging of trees, he was losing time. Losing distance. Losing energy.

Before he knew it, he was deep into a snowstorm. Thank god. He had a chance. His footprints would be covered.

He had a new burst of adrenaline and determination. He clutched his ice cold stuffies and the heavy pistol to his chest in both arms, hung his head down, trying to keep snowflakes out of his eyes.

Next thing he knew, he was on his back, sprawled on the ground with his head throbbing and his cold body aching more then it had been before.

With all the strength and energy he could muster, he picked his head off the ground, looking dazedly at the tree he had just plowed into. Now with splotches of blood on its bark and on the snow around it. He noticed his stuffies, which had been flung from his arms, he grabbed them and curled up in a fetal position around them.

And like this, shivering, scared, lost and alone. He fell unconscious.

~~~

"Adam? You okay there?"

He blinked, eyes focusing on a familiar, friendly figure.

He instantly felt every muscle in his body relax as he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding and watched the cloud it created in the cold, winter air.

"Hey? You in there, buddy?"

Hands cupped his face, thumb gently wiping away his silent tears.

It was Rowan. He was safe. He was home.

He nodded.

"Alright, good. You had me worried there for a minute. I found the key, it was at the bottom of my bag," Rowan explained, sheepishly, "let's go inside, hm?"

Adam nodded again and let Rowan's warm hand hold his and guide him into their dorm and onto the couch.

"I'll make you some hot cocoa. Is that okay?"

Adam once again only nodded. Words failing him, as they often did after one of his episodes.

Rowan smiled sweetly and left to start the water on the stove.

Adam thought through what had just happened. He found that this helped him figure out what his triggers were, how to avoid them, and just helped him process it in general.

Rowan took him to the grocery store- his first time being out since his awful fever,

They got back home after about an hour, Adam already anxious from the crowds and the cold,

Rowan couldn't find his key,

Adam's shivering, anxiety, and desperation to just get inside must have been enough to cause him to have a panic attack.

He took a deep breath through his nose, smelling the familiar scent of Rowan's cologne mixed with the citrus-vanilla candle.

He held it for a moment, listening to Rowan clanking in the kitchen and the water boiling.

And he exhaled, opening his eyes slowly and taking in the navy blue, smokey gray, and chestnut brown color scheme of the living room.

He had escaped.

He had outrun the prison guards.

He was safe and he was free.

And he was happy.

At least he thought that was what this was...

Happiness.

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Author's note: I'm actually so happy with how this one turned out! Especially after those last two failures. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it

Chapter 3 (coming soon)

#writing #writers on tumblr #whump #writeblr #written by jayy #original character #whumpcember 2023 #whumpcember day 3 #Escape #Hypothermia #Trauma #tw trauma #tw flashback #tw panic attack #(yes. adam still has the stuffies if youre wondering :D)

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