Sanscest Oneshots (new)(requests closed)

Hurting: Dream x Error

This oneshot has mentions of self-harm and depression. If you don't want to read something with those, I suggest skipping this one. Felt the need to write this to cope with how I've felt lately.
———

The prince leaned against the bathroom wall. He was home and alone at the moment. There was no one here to stop him for the intentions he had in mind. He slightly shivered as the wall felt cold and stopped leaning against it.

He went over to the counter, he placed his hands, palms down on the counter. He looked up into the mirror. His eyelights were dull, a little splotch of black goop present on his neck. He grabbed a towel and wiped it before putting his hands on the counter like they were.

"No one's here, they won't notice if they do come over..right?" Dream asked himself before he let out a slightly relieving breath out of his teeth.

He looked on the counter to see if there was something he could use for what he was planning. The thoughts flooded his mind as there seemed to be no escape for this feeling or thoughts. He opened the pull out drawers. He found what he was looking for. A razor blade.

He set it on the counter before pulling the drawers shut. He slipped off his sweater and set it on the counter. He didn't want to stain it with blood, blood was hard to get out of any form of fabric.

He picked the razor up with his right hand, he looked at his left arm. He hummed before looking at his legs, he shook his head at that thought. He looked back at his left arm and with no thought, he began making cut after cut.

There soon began to be dozens of cuts on his arm, blood seeping out of each one. He liked the sight of it, he liked the sensation of stinging it brought with each new cut as well. He didn't know what else to do, he was scared of talking to someone about how he felt and then snitching on him or something.

He felt the goop forming on his neck again. He let out a sigh, switching the razor to the other hand and began cutting the other arm too.

Once he was finished, dozens upon dozens of cuts on both arms. Blood was on the floor, counter, and sink. There was so much and it didn't seem like it was going to stop any time soon if he didn't bandage it.

He began to feel light headed a few minutes ago from the sudden blood loss from this as he knelt down to the cabinet. He opened it and grabbed some bandages and hydrogen peroxide. He set those on the counter before slowly standing up, his vision being filled with black dots for a few seconds before they mostly faded away.

He then began cleaning the cuts. It stung as he cleaned them. He didn't hiss or mutter anything relating to pain. He felt like he deserved it. After he was done cleaning them, he began wrapping his arms in bandages. Left arm then right arm till he fully bandaged them.

He kept the left over bandages and hydrogen peroxide on the counter, not bothering putting it away. He then looked at the blood that dropped on the ground and counter. It began to make him feel ill. He looked at himself in the mirror again.

He was shirtless. His arms wrapped with bandage wraps, clear that something was wrong with his arms. The splotch of goop on his neck was bigger and trailed up to his jawline. His face also looked really pale from seeing the blood. His eyelights are still dull, slightly duller than before.

He leaned on the counter as he felt not just light headed but also dizzy now. He felt sick, felt like the nausea he felt like it hit him like a brick wall. It was so sudden and yet with no warning. He breathed in then out a shaky breath.

He stopped leaning on the counter before he grabbed his sweater. He began to slowly put it on as his vision started to black out on him a little. His face washed with the feeling of nausea hanging over him. When he had his sweater on, he began to slowly make his way out of the bathroom.

•••

The glitchy skeleton left the king's place. He wanted to check in with his boyfriend even though it was a risk. He was with someone who was on the opposing team. He did fear that they would be caught one day but he still loved his boyfriend nonetheless.

He soon showed up to Dream's place. He gently knocked on the door and waited. No answer. He gently knocked on the door again. Still, no answer. He placed his hand on the doorknob and tried turning it. It was locked. He lifted his hand to his strings under his eyes that looked more like tears. He grabbed one string and began to straighten it out. He did what he could to form it to the lock and unlock the doorknob.

With some difficulty, he got it unlocked. He opened the door and called out that he was there. The lockpick string slipped into his pocket as he shut the door behind him.

Dream's place was never this quiet. There always was some kind of music playing, tv going, or just something but this, it just was too quiet. Too quiet for it to not be suspicious.

He let out a sigh as he began looking around on the main floor. Didn't see him. He went into the small basement. He wasn't there either.

He went upstairs next. He decided to check in the master bedroom first. He opened the door and widened his sockets to what he saw.

•••

A small breath left the prince's mouth as he slowly woke up. He looked around as he wasn't totally sure where he was at. Last he remembered was being in the bathroom but nothing after that.

He looked at his body and saw some thin tube-like wires connected to him. He looked to the right and saw some machines. It then hit him. He was at the hospital. He looked around the room. There was one skeleton in the room. A very glitchy one. He lightly frowned as he figured that's who found him in the state he was in.

Error was asleep in the chair. His head touching the wall, his face slightly angled, facing the ceiling. He had a slight frown as he slept.

Dream looked away from him as guilt washed over him. He let out a shaky breath as he felt like he could cry right then and there. He lifted his hands and covered his face with them. He let out a whimper as he could tell there were tears forming the corners of his sockets.

"What have I done?" He quietly and weakly asked himself