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caspersickfanfics · 2 months

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For @monthofsick day 11: Totally drained/Exhausted

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting, panic, trauma/trauma response, ptsd, passive self harm in the form of deliberately not caring for one's body

This went a bit off script - I apologize if it's not what you were looking for, anon, but I really hope you enjoy it anyway!

Anon asked:

I know that someone recently requested a sick Cyno one so I fully if this wouldn’t fit, but I was thinking about a cynari one with sick Cyno for the prompt totally drained/exhausted? Maybe Cyno has come back from a long job, and is just worn out from it all, that his stomach is rejecting food or maybe got poisoned or something. His stomach is just…so upset and Tighnari won’t allow him to simply “power through”

Cyno stumbles up to Tighnari’s home in the middle of the day. He’s not surprised that the forest watcher is out; he’s often quite busy with his duties, and he takes his job seriously.

Any other day, Cyno would join him and offer his assistance. Just this once, though, he sits just outside of the small hut, and trembles. It’s a bit torturous right now, to be still. Every so often, he gets up and paces, in spite of his aching muscles and tired body. Cyno scouts the area for danger once, twice, too many times to track. He is annoyed with himself and with his body, impatient to see Tighnari and more overwhelmed with each shallow breath. As much as he hates to admit it, Cyno is aware that in his current state, he would only be a distraction - or worse, a burden.

Tighnari finds him there, hours after his arrival. It’s dark enough that, even squinting, it’s hard to make out Cyno’s face. Though his posture relaxes somewhat at the forest watcher’s presence, something still something seems off. Tighnari ushers him inside for a better look.

The lamps illuminate a sorry state that the setting sun did not: Cyno is visibly exhausted. The bags under his eyes could just as easily be bruises. They’re so dark that it compels Tighnari to touch them, only for Cyno to violently flinch away.

They both freeze. Tighnari blinks. That’s never happened before. In the privacy of their home in Gandharva Ville, Cyno has always basked in physical contact, seeming to need it as he does air. Now, he pulls away further, eyes wide, and trembles harder. His shoulders bunch up by his ears. When an ashamed apology slips from Cyno’s lips, it makes Tighnari’s breath catch. He shakes his head.

“No,” he says, pulling gloved hands behind his back. “It was my bad. I’ll brew us some tea.”

Cyno nods absently. He’s barely listening, Tighnari can tell. Hopefully the tea will help. Even the quiet pop of the stove clicking to life makes the matra jump.

“I’m just tired,” Cyno says, uncharacteristically defensive. “You were out for so long today.” Tighnari nods placatingly and stays thoughtfully silent as he waits for the tea to brew.

Once it’s ready, Tighnari moves slowly, and says Cyno’s name quietly to get his attention. He still startles, but accepts the mug with both hands and a quiet thanks.

The matra stays standing while they drink their tea. It’s painful to watch. His legs look too shaky to hold him on, the lines of his face drawn and tense at the effort. Tighnari should probably ask him when he last slept. He doesn’t. Instead:

“Did you wait long when you got here?”

Cyno shrugs and avoids his eyes, telling Tighnari everything he needs to know.

“You silly man,” Tighnari huffs. “Why didn’t you go in and rest?”

He doesn’t get much of a response. Another shrug. They finish their drinks in silence, Tighnari’s eyes traversing Cyno’s body, calculating and evaluating his needs. There’s a flush across his cheeks, and Tighnari wonders if he’s managed to catch a cold. It’s an unusual event, considering Cyno’s healthy constitution, but lack of sleep could certainly have made him more susceptible.

Fortunately, the tea seems to be doing its job. Cyno’s eyelids droop, some of the tension in his muscles fading away. He doesn’t protest when Tighnari asserts that they’ll do the dishes in the morning. It’s unnatural, keeping his distance, but Tighnari is careful to give the other man his space as they transition to the bedroom.

Once they’re under the covers, Cyno speaks quietly. “Nari. You can touch me. I’m not– I’m not afraid of you.”

His breath is still coming in short, erratic huffs, making Tighnari hesitate. He hums softly, so Cyno knows he’s heard, and turns to face him. Cyno is turned away, and Tighnari aches to hug him, can guess that’s what Cyno would like as well, but then he sees a shiver run through him. He has to make sure.

“What do you want?”

The answer comes quick, with an edge of desperation. “Little spoon. Please.”

Tighnari is all too happy to comply. Never to this extent, but it has happened in then past that, after a particularly taxing job, Cyno needs some help with calming down. This part is familiar to Tighnari. He curls around his partner, chest pressed to back. His hand comes to rest over Cyno’s heart, and he can feel it pounding relentlessly.

“Tachycardia,” Tighnari mumbles, counting each beat. Definitely too fast, but not enough to require a trip to the Bimarstan. Not yet, at least. “For how long?”

Cyno makes a noise that sounds both pleading and irritated. “It’s okay, Nari. Just need to sleep.”

There’s little Tighnari can do at this point, so he lets it go. He snuggles in, pressing his nose against Cyno’s nape and clutching him tighter. He forces himself to stay awake; sheer willpower has him blinking his eyes open multiple times until he feels Cyno’s heart calm and his breathing even out. He presses a gentle kiss to his shoulder.

“Sweet dreams,” he murmurs, finally allowing himself to drift off as well.

–––

Cyno’s mind is not kind to him. He had hoped that Tighnari’s presence would calm his nerves, and it did, but only temporarily. He still wakes no more than 2 hours later with tears on his cheeks and a conviction that he’d done something horrific. He checks Tighnari over for injuries in a haze, his head pounding and stomach swirling. It’s fear, though he hates to admit it.

He wishes he couldn’t remember the last time he was this tired, but he can. He was about 12. Back then, he was…

Cyno bites his cheek, hard. He pushes the thoughts from his mind. If there was a time when he was a monster, then so be it. If the monster still resides with in him, then he will simply refuse to let it rise up again.

Though his brain is ready to move, his body is not. Cyno turns slowly out of Tighnari’s grip so as to avoid waking him with his once again racing heart. He’d like to prevent further questions about that. He doesn’t want to confess that it’s been like this for days.

It truly is a relief to have gotten some rest. Tighnari has a uniquely calming presence on him, and for a while, it’s bearable to just lay there. Cyno tries to manage his breathing, tries to keep his mind blank or thinking about the forest watcher beside him. It works, until it doesn’t.

He hoists himself up with great effort, reassured when the pain shooting through his muscles brings clarity to his mind.

Then, he keeps himself occupied.

First it’s tidying the hut. Just little things, here and there - nothing that would be loud enough to wake a sleeping fox. Once he’s done as much as he can, Cyno slips outside. It’s dark, with only the moon and stars brightening the sky, but he’s long since learned to navigate without relying on light.

He finds a peaceful field nearby and trains his body, a familiar routine that is frustratingly more difficult than normal, until the sun starts to rise and the town starts to wake. His body aches. His head pounds. Cyno wanders the village and helps the older folks who rise early with their morning chores, and then he helps the older folks who slept in with theirs. One of them asks if he’s alright, and Cyno blames his wilting appearance on the forest’s humidity.

It’s still early when he returns to the hut. He plans to make breakfast in exchange for Tighnari’s hospitality, but the forest watcher is waiting for him in the doorway. From a distance, he looks annoyed. As Cyno draws closer, his expression changes to one of disbelief.

“Oh, archons,” Tighnari breathes, looking at him like he’s seen a ghost. When Cyno tries to look back, there are suddenly three Tighnari’s in front of him. Hm. That can’t be good.

“Cyno, sit down.” He sounds distinctly exasperated, “Do you even know what you look like right now?”

“Probably like a very strong, intelligent, and admirable human,” Cyno quips.

Tighnari glares, ignoring the joke entirely. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Yes,” Cyno says, and perhaps he responded too quickly, because Tighnari’s eyes narrow keenly.

“How long?” It’s a demand more than it is a question. Cyno can’t help but hesitate. He knows Tighnari sees right through him, but suddenly his brain just isn’t working right.

“Don’t worry, Nari,” he mumbles. He tries to think of something reassuring. “I’m fine. I’ve been helping the villagers all morning.”

The concern in Tighnari’s face morphs into something more akin to horror. He shakes his head. “Get in bed.”

“I’m going back to work in a few hours.”

“You’re hilarious. Bed. Now.”

“At least let me make you breakfast.”

“Absolutely not.” Tighnari has been working himself up into a fury, and it’s alright - this is how Tighnari responds to worry. But then his face falls. Utter devastation mars his delicate features. Cyno trembles. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Tighnari, bravely, forges on.

“Do you– do you know that you’re hurting yourself right now?”

Cyno flinches away. Something aches, more than his muscles, deep in his soul. It swirls his stomach. He wants to sleep. He wants to relax. He wants Tighnari to smile and lie around in bed with him all day.

He cannot let Tighnari get hurt.

Unbidden, the vision from Cyno’s nightmares is superimposed on top of the forest watcher before him. It’s gone in an instant, but the damage has been done. Heat washes over his body and tremors run violently through him. Tighnari’s eyes widen, and then he disappears from Cyno’s vision.

The matra manages a choked noise of protest. He wants to follow, but his feet are held frozen in place by an overpowering wave of nausea. He doubles over, retching, and Tighnari reappears, bucket in hand. Cyno grasps at it. He coughs uncontrollably until hot, burning liquid shoots into the container, a revolting splatter against plastic. There’s just barely time for a moan before he’s being sick again, choking on a few chunks of undigested food until they’re carried forward by another gush of puke.

“That’s it. You’re okay.” Tighnari’s voice is thready and strained. “You’re safe.”

He certainly doesn’t feel it. Cyno would’ve liked to remain standing, but his legs give out. Tighnari catches him by the waist and guides him to the floor as Cyno continues gagging and heaving. His head feels heavy, ballooning bigger and bigger with each heave, and the ground is shaking beneath him. There’s a moment of relief when Tighnari’s cool hand finds his forehead, but then it draws away with a curse.

“I shouldn’t have let you go out this morning,” Tighnari mumbles. As if it’s his fault. Cyno’s stomach squeezes, wringing itself out all the more forcefully and emptying into the bin.

He doesn’t remember leaning into Tighnari, but when the retching comes to a stop, Cyno realizes that he’s practically in his lap. Queasy tremors continue to run through him, but his heart is finally slowing. Tighnari holds him without complaint. He gives him time to catch his breath, waits as he burps again and again, bringing up a few more pathetic streams of bile, catches him a second time when Cyno slumps against him.

“Did you know you had a fever?” Tighnari asks eventually. Cyno just shakes his head. He’s spent, 100%. He doesn’t move when Tighnari’s hand falls over his heart.

“It seems… better. How are you feeling?”

It takes a moment to find words again, but Tighnari waits. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Nari,” he croaks. “I just can’t–” He squeezes his eyes shut, awful memories on the edge of his vision again. Tighnari hums.

“Tell me, Cyno. You can’t keep bottling it up.”

He’s right. Cyno knows it. And Tighnari knows about his past, he’s fine with it. Still. There’s a difference between knowing his monstrous history and finding out that he still carries the beast with him. That it’s with them, ready to attack, every night in bed. That Cyno can’t guarantee it won’t get out in the moment when he’s weakest. When he’s tired. When he’s sick. Cyno whimpers. He doesn’t know how to tell Tighnari this, and he doesn’t know if he should.

“You’re scared of something,” Tighnari whispers knowingly. “That’s okay. I’m scared of things, too.”

Yes, Cyno thinks, but not of me.

The thought has him lurching for the bucket again. His throat grates as he heaves, repeatedly, until he manages to weakly cough up a few splashes of bile. He’s so exhausted. And Tighnari is so sweet. It pains him, but Tighnari deserves to know. Cyno wipes an arm across his mouth.

“I could hurt you.” His voice sounds small even in his own ears. He knows Tighnari heard. He must have. And yet, when there’s no big reaction, when he doesn’t jump away or even tense up, Cyno second-guesses. “Did you hear me, Tighnari? I said–”

Tighnari snorts. As if he’s laughing. Defiance flares and Cyno’s fists ball up. When he speaks, Tighnari sounds entirely unfazed. “I heard you. You have seen my ears before, Cyno, haven’t you?”

Cyno squirms, irritated and planning to remove himself from Tighnari’s lap until a hand presses down firmly on his chest. “I heard you, Cyno,” Tighnari tries again, his voice serious, now. “And I don’t mean to dismiss your concerns, but really. I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” Cyno says darkly, but Tighnari is shaking his head before he finishes speaking.

“I know what childhood was like for you. I know it was difficult, and painful, and scary, and that you think you hurt people. But I also know it wasn’t your fault. You were a child.”

“I’m a monster.” The words slip out and send a clawing fear up Cyno’s throat. Tighnari holds him tighter, and nothing else happens. Tears flood Cyno’s eyes. “Tighnari, I– I’m a–”

“No,” Tighnari says firmly. “You are not. I trust you. The villagers trust you. Collei, who trusts few others, trusts you. Sumeru trusts you.”

Cyno wants to protest. They’ve all made a mistake. They shouldn’t. They don’t know what could happen, the risk–

“Please, Cyno, trust our judgement, for once. Just a little bit. Just for today.”

And it’s… Not a fix. It doesn’t obliterate Cyno’s fears, doesn’t make him feel wholly human. But something fizzles out, like a balloon deflating through a single pinprick. Cyno does not give his trust out easily, but for nearly as long as they’ve known each other, Tighnari has held it gently in clawed hands, never so much as threatening to scratch it.

Perhaps he’s simply too tired to maintain the tension that’s kept him awake for so long, and it will be just as bad tomorrow, but Cyno doesn’t think so. Dazed, but hopeful, for the first time in nearly half a week, Cyno nods. Tighnari smiles, and Cyno can breathe a little freer.

“Okay,” says the keeper of Cyno’s trust. He stands and takes Cyno up with him, cradled in his arms. Safe. Almost whole. It’s good enough, at least for now. “Let’s get you back to bed, then. When you wake, we’ll play a game of cards, if you want.”

Cyno mumbles something unintelligible into Tighnari's chest and falls into a deep and peaceful sleep.

–––

Send asks here!

#my writing #tw emeto #tw vomit #tw anxiety #tw panic #emeto tw #tw passive self harm #tw trauma #genshin emeto #genshin impact emeto #sick cyno #cyno genshin impact #tighnari genshin impact #novemetober rescheduled #novemetober #genshin sickfic #spent so long on this........ idk if i like. it just needed to be done at some point #my writing: genshin

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lynzishell · 8 months

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Prev // Next

Transcript:

Phoenix: You ready for this? You look nervous. Atlas: Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about that actress that got stabbed yesterday. You hear about that? Her name was Reese something… Phoenix: Witherspoon?

Atlas: No, with her knife. Phoenix: [sighs] Excuse me.

Dawn: Ahhhppffttt! Gahh, Atlas!! Atlas: Sorry, sis, but you shouldn’t break promises.

Dawn: You got snow up my nose. Phoenix: I warned you. Dawn: Did you laugh at least? Phoenix: No.

Dawn: But you wanted to, didn’t you? Phoenix: That’s not the point.

Kiyoshi: Alright, are we ready?

The group begins climbing, with Kiyoshi coaching them. Eventually, Kiyoshi climbs up and over the top. Phoenix follows behind him. While the twins begin climbing up, Phoenix steps over toward the edge to watch Dawn.

Kiyoshi: Hey Phoenix, not so close to the edge. Come over here, man.

When Kiyoshi calls over to him, the words ‘Phoenix’ and ‘edge’ echo in his ears, and he hears a distant voice yell at him. He’s overcome with a sense of dread as the yelling becomes louder. His heart starts to pound in his chest, and his ears start to ring. The ringing turns to screaming as more voices come together in a chorus of terror. He rips off his beanie and goggles and stumbles to the ground, gasping for breath. The world starts to spin and close in around him. The screams recede briefly before bursting forth, shattering reality into a million tiny shards that become a million voices yelling, screaming, each one on top of the other, consuming him. And then everything goes black.

Through the darkness he feels a cold hand on his cheek, and another on his chest.

?muffled voice?: It’s okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe.

He focuses all his energy on the hand on his chest as he follows their instruction.

?????: Breathe in [inhales] and out [exhales] in [inhales] and out [exhales]

Slowly, the voices begin to fade, and his heart begins to slow. He opens his eyes to see Dawn kneeling over him.

Dawn: Welcome back. Phoenix: I’m sorry. Dawn: It’s okay. You’re okay. Can I get you anything?

Phoenix: Earbuds. In the front pocket of my bag. Dawn: I was thinking more like water, but sure. Phoenix: Thanks. I just need a few minutes. Dawn: Okay. We’ll be right over there.

Dawn: He’s alright, just needs a minute. Atlas: Have you ever seen him like that before? Kiyoshi: Once, when we were at a bar in town and a fight broke out, but that was a couple years ago. Our friend Aurelio was there. He seemed to know what to do, so I stayed out of it. Atlas: Hm. Hope he’s okay. Dawn: Me too.

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katsukiizmoon · 2 years

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Tags: soft bkg, panic attack, anxiety attack, comfort

Bakugou running his fingers through your hair. Whispering sweet things and that it's going to be okay.

He doesn't tell you to calm down, to just breathe. His fingers work their way through your hair, down to your neck where he uses his thumb and forefinger to massage.

"I'm going to count, I want you to breathe in on one and out on seven, okay?" He whispers.

You follow directions to the best of your ability, choking up when you start to breathe out on three instead of seven.

He assures you it's okay, tells you to just keep trying.

The panic begins to settle, your nose no longer feeling fuzzy and mouth tingling. Tears don't fair to sting your eyes anymore.

He reaches to the side, grabbing a bottle of water. A kiss is pressed to the top of your head, a promise.

"Any better?" Bakugou murmurs.

You nod.

"Can you describe the feeling of my hand right now?" He asks, voice tender.

"Is warm, n you've got-got a cut on the uh knuckle right above your middle finger." You reply, slowly, as if in a daze.

"Good. Do you want to take a bath or a nap?" He questions, bottle of water still in hand. You lean into him.

"Nap."

"Alright, drink some water first." He hands over the bottle of water. Watching intently as you sip down the liquid, he flicks off the lamp and turns on the TV in your room.

"Come on, darling, let's take a nap." He mutters, already dressed down and on his side of the bed.

Katsuki opens an arm, gesturing you towards him.

And you do, you crawl into him and sleep like a baby. Safe, warm, happy.

You'll deal with the post-panic sweat later.

#short #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou comfort #🍯#soft bun #tw panic

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thelunarsystemwrites · 18 days

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PANICKING

I HIT 200 FOLLOWERS, TYSM GUYS BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO FOR A DTIYS, PLUS PRIZES—I HAVE THREE AGEREVERSE GUYS TO DRAW, SIX FICS TO WRITE, I HAVEN'T ATE TODAY, AGHHHHHHHHHH-

#Panic #tw all caps #Tw panic #200 goal #AGHHH TYSMMMM #But now not the time to celebrate it yet!

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humming-pokemon-helpers · 2 days

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…I feel like a lot of time’s passed, and I didn’t realize it… I’ve been looking for clues. Traces. Rumors. Anything. About Colress, may he get his hand caught in a Klinklang, about Vision, whose entire life goal seems to be ruining mine, about the dragons-damned dragon on the loose that could burn down an entire fucking city.

I can hardly sleep nowadays, I’ve been checking everywhere and talking with professors and the police and I just… I have to fix this before anyone gets hurt. But I’m alive. I’m alive. I have to be, so… I’ve got to find some way to make sure nobody else gets hurt, too…

#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #high stakes pokeblogging #a vision in the mirror #tw panic #tw anxiety #ask to tag

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nixie-writes · 2 years

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Hazbin Hotel With S/O Having A Panic Attack

I personally wrote this in the midst of a panic attack of my own, writing calms me down when I'm anxious or I feel one coming on. I know a lot of other people suffer panic attacks as well, so I thought maybe this could help someone else out too. Gender neutral terms used, under the cut for length and possible triggers, will be tagged. TW: Heavy discussion of panic attacks, brief mention of drugs (Angel), brief mention of cigarettes and alcohol (Husk), repeated mentions of anxiety medication. (Author's Note: Anxiety medication is very helpful for people who have anxiety and panic attacks, but you should only take medication under your name. You don't know how someone else's medication could affect you, be careful.)

Alastor - He's not accustomed to these things admittedly. He wasn't a very social person during life, nor is he very sociable in Hell. He's an Overlord, what would someone expect him to do about a panic attack? - He'd suggest basic things initially: breathing exercises, calming music, aromatherapy, maybe some self-care. He'd be willing to take a bath with his partner if it would help them calm down, even if he's not really up for it himself. - If they have prescription medication for anxiety that will be his first resort. If not, he has other options. - He'd ask Angel about panic attacks and immediately made the choice to not do that again. - Regardless of the severity or cause of the panic attack, he's always willing to sit it out with them until they feel safe again, and he'll stick around after they've calmed down just to be sure they don't relapse. He shows it in odd ways but he truly cares.

Angel Dust - This guy has many panic attacks of varying severity, he understands the feeling. Obviously he's one to turn to drugs when he feels the panic rising in his chest but he greatly discourages drug use. If his partner has prescription medication for panic he'll offer that to them but he'll be very strict on passing it to them. - In the event they don't have medication, he has other ideas. Plenty, actually. - They could watch a comfort movie (he always enjoyed Snow White), they could play a board game together, something basic and fun like Candy Land, they could have a cup of soothing jasmine tea (though he's not really into that stuff), hell he'd go as far as to have a spa day with them and get them all pampered and shit, he'll pay for it if it helps them feel just a little better. - He's best with breathing techniques. He would teach them how to even their breathing and clear their mind and let it go, tackle it later when they're level headed. He'll also do grounding techniques, like asking them to point out things of a specific color or to tell him the texture of the furniture they're sitting on. - He's the most understanding of this issue and can handle it well, and while his personal choices to ease his panic isn't preferable, he has plenty of safe ways to help his partner overcome an attack.

Husk - His immediate reaction is to leave, he doesn't know how to handle emotional situations, especially seeing his partner in a state of panic. His first offer would be a cigar or a hard drink. (Author here, nicotine and alcohol do not help with panic attacks I know first hand, always go with a safe and healthy alternative and, if available, prescription medication under your name specifically for panic.) - When his partner turns down his offers but asks him to stay with them, he'll offer to show them some magic tricks. He can do a lot of neat things with cards and even pull something comical out of his hat. If that doesn't do the trick he'll try other options. - It's an odd idea of his, but watching a clock tick. It calms him down to watch seconds tap by. Perhaps counting the seconds alongside it, counting numbers slows down parts of the brain that negotiate panic. He doesn't know the science behind it. (The author does though!) - Though he dislikes water, if it'll help his partner calm down he won't mind getting in a bath with them, or at least sitting with them in the washroom while they bathe. He has that cat instinct of, "they're in water and something might happen so I have to keep watch". - He can be a grounding theme himself. He's got a hat, a little bow tie his partner can toy with, he has wings, etc. He can ask them for specifics on his different details, like the patterns on his wings or the texture of his fur. - He'll offer them a lot of Gatorade or just plain water, whichever they prefer, to keep them hydrated if they start crying. Even stress can dehydrate someone and he knows that much, so he'll strongly suggest some fluid to keep their system going while they handle their attack.

Charlie - Seeing her partner in a panic would almost send her into a panic herself, but she has to stay level headed for her partner's sake. She's very responsible about this. - First, she'll teach them some breathing exercises. In for five seconds, out for seven seconds. Repeat that while tapping their thumbs against their other fingers, their slowed heart rate and mental focus on the finger tapping will calm them. - She'll also offer some herbal tea, if that's up their alley. Maybe some ginseng and honey, without the sugar. She can also try singing them a lullaby, or reading a comforting book to them. Regardless of their choice of comforting media, she'd be happy to join to help them feel better. - She would suggest a sleepover to keep them calm (and in her sight) for the rest of the day into the night, to keep them occupied so they don't have another attack. If they're up for it, she can give them simple tasks to distract them, like washing dishes or dusting. Nifty certainly doesn't mind the help. - She's a very calm person, but she understands how hard it can be to grapple with anxiety and panic, especially with a lot of built up pressure. She'll do anything necessary to ensure they feel better in their own time.

Vaggie - Vaggie is probably the best person to go to for a panic attack. She had and still has panic attacks herself, and knows the process of how to handle them. - If her partner has medication for panic, she'll immediately make them take that. If they don't have medication, she can offer some other soothing substances, like some tea or hot chocolate, her secret guilty pleasure. - She knows it can be easy to fall into absolute madness during a panic attack, and if she sees this happening she's very quick to resort to breathing techniques, grounding methods and talk therapy. She suggests they discuss how they feel, and she can help them rationalize their feelings and understand their feelings. - Her personal method of coping with panic is listening to relaxing sounds. ASMR isn't for everyone but she'll suggest it. Otherwise there's nature sounds, city sounds, any kind of ambient audio they need, she can easily offer. - She can also just resort to kitten videos. It's scientifically suggested that cat videos help soothe frayed nerves. (Look it up!) She'd point out specific cats she likes, or find videos of cats playing with toys, whatever would best help soothe them. - Because she grew up with technology at her fingertips, she's more localized to using technology to calm her partner, as that calms her. If they're not up for watching anything she can play music of her heritage and teach them the words or read them a book.

Nifty - Nifty is less of an easily panicked person, and more of someone who's easily anxious. There is a big difference. When she's anxious about anything her resort is manic cleaning and she'll suggest her partner helps her clean to get their mind off things. - She's also up for more intimate calming methods, like hand holding, drawing circles in their palms or dancing. She'd be the one to put on some music by Elvis, specifically his love songs, and slow dance to them. - If that's not too helpful or not an option, she has other ideas. They can help her organize some things, or at least watch her do it and talk while she does it. - She has a lot of books of varying genres so if her partner finds reading as a soothing mechanism, she's basically got a library to indulge in. If they want, she can read to them her favorite book series, Narnia. Or perhaps Romeo and Juliet. - She isn't too well versed in grounding methods but she'll try. She'll let them touch her feather duster and ask them how it feels. or show them a color-changing item and ask them to name each color as it changes. She also has a lot of fidget toys if they like those. Fidget spinners, fidget cubes, you name it she has it. - She can be manic and unpredictable, but if someone came to her for help during a panic attack, she would tone down her excitable persona and be calm with them until they recover, and check on them periodically to see how they're doing.

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astridhansleyy · 10 months

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Where: Aurora Bay Hospital

Who: @cristian-valdes

After receiving the worst call ever, Astrid walked out of the coffee shop, apologizing to her PI before heading to take Victor and Isabella to Cristian's house to leave them with their babysitter and then drive to the hospital. She couldn't get there fast enough. Victor, of course, was so pleased to see Astrid but he kept asking where his daddy was and all Astrid could say was that he'll be there soon. Astrid simply didn't want to freak the kid out as she didn't know what happened herself. After leaving the kids with the babysitter, the blonde drove as fast as she could to the local hospital. She ran through the doors, feeling pure panic "Cristian Valdes, where is he?" She asked the nurse at the front desk, still trying to catch her breath. "Who are you? A relative?" The nurse asked calmly "I am his emergency contact, please tell me where he is? Is he okay?" The nurse checked in the files and pointed at one of the doctors "There's Doctor Morales, he's the one treating Mister Valdes, go to him." The nurse said "Thank you," Astrid said giving the woman a small smile and a nod before approaching the doctor. "Doctor Morales! We talked on the phone...I am Astrid Hansley, Cristian's emergency contact, can you please explain what happened to Cristian?" She asked feeling herself getting more and more anxious. "Yes, Miss Hansley, please sit." Please sit? Fuck, that's never good..."Cristian was at the beach surfing when something happened that made him fall, his surfing board broke and hit his head while he was underwater...the lifeguard tried to do CPR but, he didn't wake up...we stabilized him...but, he's still unconscious and we don't know when he'll wake up." Astrid's heart was about to explode hearing this. "Where is he," Astrid asked as she could feel the tears in her throat. "Come after me" The Doctor replied as he got up and walked with her to room 308. As the door opened she could see the man she so dearly love looking like he was just sleeping. He looked so peaceful even though a huge white bandage covered his beautiful curls. "Can I have a moment alone with him, Doctor?" She said as the doctor nodded and walked out of the room. "Cris..." She said as she took a seat by the bed, taking his hand into hers. "Please come back to me." She said as she burst into tears. "Please, I love you..." She said as she placed a soft kiss against his forehead. She held his hand and didn't want to let go.

#C #{para}#tw hospital #tw serious injury #tw panic

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macfrog · 4 months

Note

dbf army rise

alright sooooooo (please don't hate me)

may or may not have had a small panic attack earlier and absolutely wasted all energy i had to finish editing. looks like a nye upload. sorry to let y'all down!

take your medication, kids. it helps lol

#i have been trying to battle through but i'm just not at all in the mindset for it #i will now be retiring to bed with some warm socks and my knitting needles like the grandmother that i am #chats w max #iknowisoundcrazy #cowboy like me #tw anxiety #tw panic

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caspersickfanfics · 30 days

Text

Late Arrival Chapter 3

Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack (described in detail), vomiting, fever, hospital mention, bad jokes

A/N:

Written for @monthofsick day 24: Panic ! It feels good to finally finish a multi-chapter fic for once, even though it's a bit short =v=

“–nari. Tighnari.” The earth is shaking. It’s warm. Comfortably warm for a moment, and then too much. He squirms. “Tighnari!” Oh, Cyno is shaking him. Cyno is warm. Cyno is—

“Please,” Cyno’s voice wavers. “I need to throw up.”

Tighnari bolts upright. Cyno is sick.

The forest watcher is still half asleep as he forces himself out of the bed. His head is pounding. A result of lack of rest, probably, combined with the incessant city noise, but his priority is getting the trash can to Cyno, and he manages it.

His ears flatten at the immediate sound of the bin being filled.

There are multiple waves, this time. They run in cycles. Cyno’s body tenses, hunches forward, and then with a sick gurgle, rancid smelling liquid gushes from his mouth and nose. Tighnari stands beside him and holds a mass of hair out of the way. It’s thick, and heavy with sweat. His own hands are shaking.

Something heavy sits uncomfortably in his stomach. A bubbling nausea rises in his throat, not from illness, but stress. Being woken so jarringly from such a deep sleep and days of exhaustion has left him reeling, strung out and achy.

He watches Cyno panting, head hung over the trash, and the tightness in his heart manifests into physical pain. It must be nearing 48 hours since anything’s actually stayed in Cyno’s system. His body looks thinner than it did even a day ago. He coughs, and Tighnari can easily see the outline of his ribs when his stomach contracts yet again. There’s another splatter, quickly followed by two more. Tighnari has never been squeamish, but right now the worry feels like a rampage in his gut.

Empty, Cyno leans back to catch his breath, melting into the pillows behind him. Tighnari sets the soiled trash can back on the floor. He brushes a thumb over Cyno’s cheek, catching some wetness and wiping it away, watching the sick man smile and nuzzle into his hand. He looks ill, certainly, but relaxed. Comfortable, even. Tighnari’s tail wilts between his legs and his chest squeezes impossibly further. He doesn’t want to take that from him - he doesn’t want to take anything from Cyno, and definitely not this - but a sense of safety is good for nothing if it’s only an illusion. When Tighnari finally speaks, he feels very far away.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he confesses quietly. Cyno cracks an eye open. Tighnari inhales unevenly. “I think… we should go to the Bimarstan.”

At the suggestion, Cyno goes rigid. He stares at Tighnari with some awful mix of shock, betrayal, confusion, and hurt. At the center of it all, a trembling and raw fear, the kind that makes him look far younger than his age.

“Tighnari–” Cyno speaks roughly, like it was hard for him to find his voice, and it cracks upon the single word. He’s gone ashen and bug-eyed. Tighnari melts with a sigh, sagging onto the bed and dropping his forehead to Cyno’s shoulder.

“I know.” Because he does, to a certain extent. There are few things that instill fear into the General Mahamatra, let alone to this degree. Tighnari takes Cyno’s hand in his own and stares at it. He can’t stand the sight of his partner’s pained expression any longer. “I know,” he repeats quietly. “I’m just not sure that I can help you on my own this time.”

“Tighnari. I’ll be fine.” Cyno sounds reassuring. He sounds like he believes his own words. “You’re helping. I feel better already.”

Maybe he does believe it. Tighnari can’t read minds. But he can hear Cyno’s heartbeat and it has the speed and intensity of a cornered animal. Cyno isn’t a liar - and yet, anyone can bend the truth or tiptoe around it, especially when fear is involved.

“I’ve been through worse,” Cyno says, his voice pleading for Tighnari to cave. Instead, his hands shake harder. Cyno looks… Frail. The word comes to mind and punches the oxygen out of him. His own heart pounds and there’s a rushing white noise in his ears that drowns out everything else.

“I don’t… know what to do,” Tighnari grates out. His breaths are coming too short and quick, but the harder he tries to gasp in oxygen, the more his chest hurts. He stands and his tail swishes restlessly, brushing against the floor. Cyno squeezes his hand.

“I promise,” he says. “I promise I’ll be okay, Tighnari. I don’t break promises.”

“I know you don’t.” And he does, except… “I’ll be right back. Stay here, Cyno. Please.”

Tighnari doesn’t wait for a response. He wrenches his hand away and stumbles out of the bedroom, and then out of the front door. He doesn’t make it much further than that.

He can’t.

It crosses Tighnari’s mind that he’s gasping quite loudly, to the point of nearly wheezing, and that Cyno can probably hear him; if he could claw his way further from the building, he would. The last thing he needs is to cause more stress for his partner. But his legs simply refuse to hold him, and he’s shaking from the tips of his ears to the end of his tail. He has to blink dark spots from his vision - there is simply not enough oxygen to appease his greedy lungs.

His entire chest feels like both a pulsing bruise and a stab wound and Tighnari grapples with a sort of fury, a rage at his own body’s failure at such an inopportune time. He’s managed to betray both himself and Cyno in one sitting. His left arm begins to tingle and go numb, and Tighnari wonders whether he’s being dealt some form of divine punishment in the form of heart failure.

He can reason with himself, at least, enough to recognize that this is unlikely. Teyvat’s medical research has yet to discover a definitive way to distinguish between issues of the heart and of the mind, but Tighnari is aware that he’s quite healthy and still significantly younger than the average age of those afflicted with heart problems. Meanwhile, he’s familiar with the mind’s way of tricking the body, if only from having comforted Collei through more panic spells than he’d care to recall.

But then - there are exceptions to every rule. This feels more painful than Collei has ever articulated, and counting his breaths doesn’t seem to be helping in the way it does with her. Instead he ends up coughing, choking on the very air that’s meant to bring him life. He could be an exception, something could be wrong and Tighnari wouldn’t know because he isn’t a doctor. Every time Tighnari tries to push the worry away, the fear seems to grow. If he dies here, then Cyno…

His stomach lurches. Tighnari whimpers and tugs at his hair, his ears, in some attempt at grounding himself. His tail wraps around his body instinctively as he retches. With his hearing enhanced as it is, Tighnari’s heartbeat is a constant source of white noise in his periphery, but now it sounds like thunder. He clutches at his chest and feels pathetic.

If nothing else, he can be grateful that Cyno’s apartment building is tucked into an alley and away from the busier streets of the city. It’s still loud, but at least the likelihood of some stranger spotting him in such a miserable state is lower. Tighnari is doubly appreciative of this fact when he begins throwing up. Hot vomit scalds his throat and sprays violently beneath a decorative bush. Tighnari is all but frozen on his hands and knees while his body continues to empty itself. By the time he regains control of his stomach, Tighnari can barely think.

The nausea, at least, has abated. He crawls pitifully away from the pool of puke and leans against the solid stone walls of the building. Tighnari clings to his tail, hands brushing through it in a repetitive, soothing motion, and forces himself to pause. He has a near overwhelming urge to rush back into the apartment and check on Cyno - archons, he’s been gone too long - but he must first take stock of his body. If he doesn’t, he risks scaring them both.

So, slowly, Tighnari does a mental intake of his current state. His muscles ache, but the pain is gradually diffusing, no longer so centralized to his chest. His breathing is shaky but finally effective, and while his heart is racing, it doesn’t hurt, nor does it sound so impossibly loud. He’s still shaky and his legs feel weak, and of course, his head continues pounding. Whether or not he can stand is a question he can’t answer until he’s testing it out, unsteadily managing to get his feet underneath him.

When Tighnari staggers his way back to the bedroom, Cyno is right where he left him, awake and looking devastated. He may have followed his partner’s instructions, but that clearly didn’t stop him from hearing everything. “Tighnari.” Cyno reaches for him immediately. Tighnari shuffles over, feeling dazed and embarrassed. His ears are still ringing. Cyno doesn’t comment on the way the hand Tighnari offers shakes, only shifting slightly to gently cup it in both of his own. They are warm and calloused, and so, so gentle.

“I’m sorry,” Tighnari rasps, because he hadn’t meant to be gone for so long, and maybe he shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have fallen apart at all. He tries not to think too hard about the fact that he still doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t remember crying, but Cyno wipes some wetness from under his eyes. Tighnari feels his cheeks heat up and looks away, whispering again, “Sorry.”

Exhaustion hits him like a physical force, and he drops onto the bed, staring down at the way their hands intertwine. Cyno tugs him closer, and and Tighnari allows himself to rest on his partner’s chest. His heartbeat is steady now. A regular old life-force. His fingers move to card through Tighnari’s hair, and then to scratch his ears in a way that shakes out some of their tension. When Tighnari eventually musters the strength to look up, Cyno is watching him intently. His expression is steady and determined, and Tighnari knows what he’s going to say before the words leave his mouth.

“I’ll go,” he says, and Tighnari aches because bravery is so integral to Cyno’s being. It’s something he learned so young and has had to rely on far more than is fair. “I’ll go to the Bimarstan,” he reiterates, and his voice is calm enough that if T didn’t have the ears that he does, he wouldn’t have even heard it waver.

He’s not going to make Cyno go there.

Not yet.

He realizes it all at once, as though just knowing that it’s an option, that Cyno won’t resist if it is needed, is enough to rebuild Tighnari’s confidence in his own abilities.

“Thank you,” Tighnari says, and Cyno tenses, probably steeling himself to follow through on his words. Tighnari is sure, now, that he would if it was asked of him, but he shakes his head. “I think– well, I may have overreacted a bit,” he admits.

Cyno watches him carefully as Tighnari continues. “Your fever feels better now than when I left, and you slept most of the night, which means some of the nutrients have stayed with you.”

“So,” Cyno’s voice is tentative. Tighnari nods, urging him onward. “I guess you could say I’m hereling for you.”

Tighnari groans. He can’t help it. “You’re–”

“Here-ling, like healing, and “here for you.” Get it?”

“Cyno,” Tighnari scolds. “Not the time.”

His partner shrugs, unaffected. “I think it was funny.”

Tighnari pulls away with a kiss to Cyno’s knuckles. He’s not actually upset; if anything, he still feels apologetic. But worry continues gnawing at his insides, so he gathers a few things from the kitchen before returning to Cyno’s side.

“Okay,” he says, holding up a glass. “This has some hydro-infused nutrients in it - they should be tasteless, and it’s meant to be rehydrating. I actually haven’t used them before,” Tighnari murmurs. “So although they come from a trusted colleague, if you feel anything odd after consuming this, let me know.”

Cyno nods and reaches for the glass. Unsurprising. Now that Tighnari’s offered him a way out of the Bimarstan, he’ll be content to try anything. Tighnari pulls the glass away just slightly.

“Cyno. This is important.” When he swallows, his throat is dry. “This goes not just for the drink - you’re not out of the woods yet with this ailment. If you start feeling worse, I need you to let me know. Can you promise that?”

The matra has gone still, listening quietly. When Tighnari finishes speaking, Cyno keeps looking at him attentively.

“Are you okay, Tighnari?”

The question makes his legs weak. No, he’s not, and Cyno can see straight through him. There’s an unsettling battle between the tension still running through Tighnari’s veins and the weight of his exhaustion, and his headache has only intensified. He allows himself the luxury of rolling into the bed beside his partner before responding with a sigh.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, tempted to leave it at that. But honesty is a two-way street. “I’m tired and that makes me nervous that I won’t— I might not notice if something is really wrong. You seemed so much better earlier, and I had just convinced myself that you were fine.”

“I felt fine earlier.” Cyno reaches for the medicine and drinks it slowly. “And I feel better now. But I meant what I said: I can see a doctor. Especially if it will make you feel better.”

Tighnari’s heart swells. He waits patiently for Cyno to rest the glass on his nightstand, and then wraps his arms around him. He’s still sick and sweaty and warmer than he should be, and once he’s healed, he’ll have to regain some of his muscle mass. But Cyno still manages to feel strong when he returns the embrace.

“I trust you,” Tighnari says, squeezing a bit tighter, tucking his head under Cyno’s chin. “If you say you feel better, I believe you. I just need you to keep being honest. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you because I didn’t realize I wasn’t doing enough.”

“Okay,” Cyno says. “I promise, Tighnari. I won’t lie to you.”

The words are probably more than he needed to say; Tighnari already knew this much. And yet, his body relaxes upon hearing them.

He doesn’t sleep for a long while. Cyno drifts off, still recovering, and Tighnari plays with his hair. Some of his restless energy begins to fade, but he’d rather watch his partner sleep peacefully than close his eyes. It’s a relief when the matra stays that way for multiple hours. When he wakes up, Tighnari is alarmed, briefly, and ready to reach for the trash can in the event of repeat from earlier. But Cyno only smiles lazily, yawns, and starts tracing gentle lines on Tighnari’s back. It’s soothing. Tighnari’s muscles complain as they loosen and readjust, but it isn’t the worst feeling. He fights against heavy eyelids until he hears Cyno chuckle.

“You can rest,” he says. “I’ll wake you if I need anything, Nari.”

Tighnari scrunches his face up, still resistant. It doesn’t feel right, and yet…

“I promise,” Cyno says. Tighnari doesn’t need anything to verify the truth to his words, but he listens closely anyway. Between the sound of one steady heartbeat and the next, Tighnari finally allows himself to drift off.

———

If you enjoyed the fic, feel free to let me know by replying directly to this post, by sending me an ask, or by sharing your thoughts with me privately and anonymously through this survey! Thank you so much for reading!!

#my writing #tw anxiety #tw anxiety attack #tw panic #tw panic attack #tw vomit #tw emeto #tw fever #my writing: genshin #sick cyno #sick tighnari #cyno genshin impact #tighnari genshin impact #genshin impact emeto #genshin sickfic #novemetober #novemetober rescheduled #genshin emeto

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