#panic attack trigger warning

[factual-fantasy]

So spent the last couple of days working on my FNAF recap/repair comic. And I’ve made a BUNCH of progress. So I figured I’d take a short break and doodle some random stuff before getting back to work.

So this post is just a huge mish-mash of random things I drew on my break. Well, at least these are the more coherent ones- <XD

[packet-of-staples]

Alright we’re in the home stretch!!

Day 111 - Messing around with panels. Theres more to this I just haven’t finished it

Day 112 - He grows a little every day!

Day 113 - You’re never fully dressed without a smile!

[thehyperfixationspeedrunner]

This is me trying

On ao3 too

Summary: It's been a month since what Cardan has been calling the "reptile accident" when he decides to get up before Jude, not knowing the consequences.

OR these two are traumatised and they may not acknowledge it, but I will.

Trigger warnings (already put in the tags but I'm not sure if I did it right so better safe than sorry): panic attack, cussing

It's weird how easily you fall into routine. It's barely been a month since what Cardan has started calling the "reptile accident" or the one he likes best "revealing his true form" (although that one isn't used in front of Jude, she's not sure why but she prefers it that way). Anyway, it's been a month since Cardan has been transformed into a snake, since Cardan and Jude has started to live together as the King and Queen of Elfhame but they have already established a routine, even if neither of them has noticed it until today.

Jude is always the first to wake up - Jude was raised by a general and Cardan by a prince, so that part is obvious. She dresses first, giving Mr. Lazy time to sleep, and then she wakes up sleeping beauty even though he always complains that while there aren't people busting into the room saying he's late, she's waking him up early. He never says he hates it. Jude suspects is because he can't lie. From then, Jude orders breakfast while Cardan dresses up, and they eat together before having to deal with their royal obligations.

Today, however, was different. Shockingly, Jude was able to have some good 6 hours of sleep and woke up a bit disoriented. See, this is the bad part about sleeping a lot. When you wake up, your senses take a while to turn on. That's definitely the reason why Jude barely sleeps, at least that's what she tells everyone when they ask her. Because of that, she took a bit to notice that she was alone in bed, which triggered something in her brain. She instantly gets out of bed and starts to look in every corner of their room repeating to herself that everything is fine, Cardan just woke up earlier and is dressing up or putting the hundred of layers that he puts every morning because "I know I look impressive naturally but I am the High King, Jude, I have to look perfect". Except he is nowhere to be found.

See, a small but important part of this quickly created routine was when Jude woke up and she would always look to the side and see Cardan relaxed and asleep, would look at his chest rise and fall and make sure that, yes, he's alive and, no, this last month was not a fever dream, he really is here. Without that confirmation, Jude is starting to spiral, and the fact that Cardan is not in the room doesn't help.

She tries to take a deep breath. She's the High Queen goddammit, she can't panic every time a minor routine change happens. But the truth is that she cannot take the deep breath. She cannot even take a small breath. She's pretty sure she's not breathing at all. But she has to because Cardan needs her. Jude goes through her options: one, he did wake up earlier, got knocked off in the room but somewhere hidden where she didn't check; two, he got knocked off somewhere in the castle and his unconscious body is lying there; three, he got abducted while he slept; four... Maybe last month was a fever dream. No, she is not going to think about option four.

While she does a more precise search through their room, she also tries to think of who would do this. He's the King of Elfhame, so it's obvious that he has a lot of enemies, but she is not remembering anyone who's this mad at him right now. However, her hands are trembling and there's still not enough air reaching her lungs, so maybe her memory is not the best at the moment. You were almost deadly stabbed before the incident.

Ok, he is not in the room, so option number two. This one is not the most likely. If someone knocked him off, they wouldn't just leave him in the middle of the corridor, and Faes don't just slip, so he couldn't have knocked himself out. Besides the palace is huge, it would take too long to search. Maybe you were less healed than you thought. Option number three it is. There are three windows in the room. The climb is hard but not impossible, she has done it herself while having a major injury. A major injury that could have been infected. Jude shakes her head and checks the three windows. None of them is broken and they are all locked from the inside, like they were when they went to sleep, which she knows because she always checks that before going to bed. Unless the person was a master spy (which is an option), she doesn't know how someone pulled that of. The other way into the room is through the door, so she quickly opens it, revealing two knights part of her security.

"Was there any disturbance last day?" She would be surprised that her voice somehow didn't fail if she was at all worried with that right now.

"We heard or seen nothing different than usual, your majesty."

"Have you fallen asleep or abandoned your post anytime during your shift?" The knights were visibly offended by that, but she had to clear all her options.

"No, your majesty. Is everyth-" Having her answers, Jude closes the door, leaving the knights to their jobs. If she was in her right mind she would have noticed that she was still in her bed clothes, her hair was mess, the room was worse and her hands still trembled and her breath was still labored. But she was not her in her right mind. Cardan is missing- He was not here at all. Her husband is missing and she is going to find him. Maybe he was taken outside their bedroom and there is going to be some kind of clue outside of it.

She is about to open the door again when a thought crosses her mind. The lover's bedroom. There is a pathway between that room and the High King and Queen's room. That is how whoever took Cardan got in. No one got in. Hallucinations caused by infections are common, at least for mortals. She slides through the pathway towards the other bedroom but is met with a similar scenario. No window was broken and all of them are closed from the inside, same with the door, no signs of breaking. Stop looking for what you won't find. You know you can barely remember anything after cutting Cardan's head off. It was the serpents head. You know that's the same thing. There was a battlefield where you broke down. You could have easily been stabbed. I would remember it. Would you? Sometimes, our mind purposely forgets traumatic memories. You could have passed out. No. You could have dreamt. Stop. Cardan is dead and you have been feeding yourself this fantasy because you can't deal with the guilt. STOP. You killed him and now you're living in a world without him and you'll keep living in it because that's the reality. I SAID STOP.

Jude. The sound of something breaking. She can't do it. She can't go back to those three days. She can't live without Cardan's mockery. She can't live without his laugh. She can't.

JUDE. She's shaking now, or someone is shaking her, she's not lucid enough to understand. God, he's her anchor. She doesn't know what to do without him. She wants to go back to sleep. She wants to go back to their routine. She wants to hear him complain about waking up early again. She wants to feel his fingers playing with her hair again. She wants-

JUDE! Cardan. She opens her eyes (since when were they closed?) and faces the love of her life's face. He looks adorably worried, full make up and hair nicely treated. She can't help but smile. "Cardan" she whispers, trying not to force her voice tired from screaming and crying (curious, she doesn't remember that). She puts her head in the space between his neck and shoulder and he starts rubbing circles on her back. "Stay" she pleads. Because that's what she's doing, pleading to the universe to let her stay in this fever dream, to have more time with Cardan, even if it isn't real, even if he's dead, even if that's her fault and there's just her to blame.

"Always" and that pisses her off. Because that's what Cardan would say, that's how Cardan looks, that's how Cardan acts and this mind prison has no right to be this close to reality.

"Liar" she spits. He looks mostly confused and a bit hurt but she doesn't care, this isn't real so nothing fucking matters.

"Jude, I would never abandon you-"

"But you did!" she's close to screaming now, but she doesn't care, her voice was cracking, but it doesn't matter. She has to get this out. "You abandoned me for three days because of that prophechy bullshit. You left me to rule Elfhame while simultaneously dealing with the schemings that my father and the frozen royalty was fucking doing and the fact that the love of my life was a goddam snake and then I, and I-" she can't get it out, she still can't believe it.

"You saved me."

"I killed you." she is fully sobbing now, but she can't stop. She gets up (she was sitting down?) and keeps going "You're dead and this is just a manifestation from my brain, because somewhere else I'm also dying and I hope I do because I can't live in a world where you're not. I physically will not be able to continue without you!" She sinks into the floor using the bed as support and Cardan sits in front of her. He has a puzzled expression in his face. They stay some time in silence, Jude catching her breath and Cardan trying to put pieces together.

"Why do you think I'm not real?" he finally asks, his voice tiny as if he's afraid of the answer.

"You weren't there." Jude matches his tone. "When I woke up. I always check to make sure you're there because if you are, then that means you're real and I'm not dreaming. At first, I thought you were kidnapped. That's why I'm here, I thought this was how whoever took you got in."

"My wife, scheming even when she's panicking." he's looking at her with that adoration in his eyes that never fails to take her breath away. "Let's keep scheming, shall we?" He looks at her, waiting for an answer so she nods. "You say that you are dreaming, you're in this coma and you can't wake up. Well, let's test this theory. Did you know that you can't read in dreams?" Another nod. Cardan gets up, picks a book from the bedside table and hands it to her. "Well, can you read?" The answer is yes. The book was a mortal romance that she was sure she had seen in Cardan's hands. That meant that this was real, Cardan was here and she hadn't killed him. Immediate relief washed over and with that came more tears that she hadn't noticed when they stopped. God, she was a mess. This is ridiculous, she is being ridiculous. Trying to look less like she just had a mental breakdown over nothing Jude attempts to clean the tears that don't stop. Of course this is reality, of course Cardan just woke up earlier and went to do god knows what. She's the fucking High Queen and she can't stand when her husband is out earlier, can't keep a cool head, can't-

"Stop." Cardan gently takes the hands that are trying to hide the tears that keep coming, why don't they stop? "Don't do that." His tone is gentle but secure and so goddamn grounding, how does he do it?

"Do what?"

"Close yourself. I could see the moment you realised that this was the reality because that was the moment the mask came back on. You're probably thinking that you don't have the right to feel this way because you can't show weaknesses or whatever bullshit your mind thinks of." Sometimes it's scary how well he knows her. "Don't close yourself from me." He is rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand and it feels so right, everything about him feels so right.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." His tone is becoming more frustrated. "This is obviously bothering you, but I had no idea and because of my ignorance you just had a fucking panic attack." Her eyebrows went up. "I may have been reading about mortal psychology, but that's not important, what's important is," he moves his hands to cup her face and cleans the tears - that have finally stopped - with his thumb. "You don't have to pretend with me."

"You're one to talk." She retaliates but doesn't push him away. "You haven't said another word about those three days since I asked what it was like being a snake on the same day you stopped being one." Cardan laughs because he's Cardan and he laughs when he's nervous and he is not the only one who knows the other too well, she can see in his eyes that the thought of having to speak of those three days of hell terrifies him as much as her.

He moves to her side and sighs. "We really are made for each other, aren't we?" He seems to consider something before saying. "Let's make a pact. Whenever we want the other to open up, we say a code word and they have to do it after we reveal something that has been bothering us. No lies, no tricks, just the plain truth. Deal?" He gives her his right hand. It is always dangerous to make a deal with a fae, but this is Cardan, they have passed the backstabbing phase when she came back from exile. She takes his hand and shakes it.

"Deal. But we have to choose the word, something that we won't say normally."

"California." The place they went on their honeymoon instead of being on the two weeks celebrations of the Mortal Queen's victory over the serpent. The place where they were just two teenagers in love and not The Queen and King of Elhame, not the warrior and the prince, not the people with traumatic childhood, not the two broken pieces of what should be two whole people.

"Sounds great."

"I said it, so I start." He takes a deep breath and speaks. "I woke up earlier today because I had a nightmare. I wasn't someone trapped inside the snake like people like to believe, I was the snake. When the snake died, I died, even if for a few seconds." Jude takes a sharp breath, she always took comfort in the fact that she hadn't cut his head, but what was trapping him, that he hadn't felt anything. Cardan notices and takes both her hands and looks at her straight in the eyes. "I don't blame you, nor will I ever. If I say something assumimg the opposite, you have the premission to cut my head because that is not me. But as I was saying, when I saw you taking out the sword, I couldn't help but feel relief, but when you dealt the blow I, I-" another deep breath "I couldn't feel anything. I don't remember anything. I died. And that terrifies me. I was. I wasn't there. I replay that in my mind countless days, but today was so vivid, I couldn't fall back asleep, so I got out. I needed fresh air. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. I should've come back when it was time to wake up, I should've woken you, I didn't know that you needed that, but if I did, I would have done it."

They stay a few moments in silence, taking deep breaths and deep in thoughts.

"Your turn."

She wants to sugar-coat it. She wants to say that it wasn't that bad, she doesn't want to see guilt in his face even if it isn't his fault. But Cardan didn't sugar-coated when he revealed that what she did hurt him even if he knew it was going to hurt her. So instead, she says:

"Those were the worst three days of my life. I honestly thought it was going to be ok when we were negotiating with Madoc. That we won, they were going to surrender and we would be fine. Then I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe when Grimsen said that only death would save you. I went to Baphen, I went to the Old King, but all of them had the same answer. Somehow I had to rule the fucking kingdom while grieving a death that I didn't believe in. On top of all of that the court of teeths was on my throat, making plans to try to turn you and me into their puppets like their daughter. The relief that I had when I saw you alive was bigger than anything I thought I could feel, but the time between that and when I cutted the sna- your head it was my lowest. It was a hole and I was at the deep end with no way out. I cannot live without you." She stops to look at him. Look at his black hair and his eyes that look like black holes. His pale skin and his small mouth. No, she can't imagine a world without him. But that moment was close, so close. "I am so scared that I will go back to that void, I'm so scared that the universe wasn't as kind as I thought, I'm so scared to not wake up next to you."

He puts his arm around her shoulder and she puts her head on his. Jude looks up and sees tears running down Cardan's face, so she hugs him, feeling his other arm surround her. They stay silent for some time while Carden cries in Jude's shoulder and Jude just holds him close, all her tears wasted a few minutes ago.

"I'm sorry." Cardan was the one to break the silence.

"Not your fault."

"Liar."

"I wouldn't lie to you." It's the truth.

"May I remind you that you said you were fine while bawling your eyes out a few minutes ago?" OK, half true.

"When you have a nightmare, find me. I don't care if I just went to sleep, I don't care if I hadn't slept in days, I don't care if I'm not even asleep and you have to drag me out of my work, find me."

"When you feel like this is not real, find me. I don't care if you have to send someone to do it, I don't care if you run around the palace screaming my name, I don't care if I'm in the most important reunion, find me."

They break the hug to look at each other and say at the same time, "Deal".

"Sooo, do you want to have breakfast in bed and completely run away from our responsibilities?"

"We're the King and Queen of Elfhame."

"Exactly, there is no one above to stop us."

"We have an entire kingdom depending on us."

"Well, as the High King, I order you to stay in bed with me."

"As the High Queen, I'm going to refuse that order."

"Come on, you're mortal, you can say that we are sick or something." Jude's going to retaliate, but honestly? She's exhausted and spending the night in bed with her husband doesn't seem the worst idea.

"You are a horrible influence, do you know that?"

"Does that mean I win?"

She sighs. "Yes, you win."

"Yay" He says, getting up and doing a little spin like a child who was able to negotiate bedtime with their parents. She can't help but smile at his shenanigans.

Next, he does an extremely exaggerated bow and continues. "After you, my queen."

At that, she fully laughs, takes his hand and goes down the pathway with him. She hates being vulnerable, but with him, it isn't that bad. How do we take the armour off? A piece at a time. She feels like they just took another one.

-‐----------------‐-----------------‐----------------‐----------------

So, I had this idea since I finished Queen of Nothing and since I didn't see any fic like this I decided to make it myself. The characters may be a bit OOC, I'm not tha familiar with them. I am not a writer and my first language is not English, so apologies for any mistake. 🫶

Btw this was way bigger than I thought, no idea how many words, but damn, I'm having a brain riot.

[rpedia]

[Ask RPedia] Writing Panic Attacks?

@twodemigodtraveleroflorien​ asked: Any advice on how to RP a character having a panic attack

Sure! As usual, ‘show don’t tell’ is gonna be big here. By that, I mean describe what is going on through connected ideas, not straightforward ones. When someone is in love they smile, and gaze, and touch. When someone is angry they sneer. When someone is scared they sweat, and triple check nothing is behind them. Don’t ever just say ‘Mary was scared’ unless it’s a stylistic choice to give a certain feel to your writing. Pick it consciously as what your story needs, or not at all.

Beyond that, panic attacks can hit in a ton of different ways. We’ll get into this below, and describe not only panic attacks, but some methods on how to help them. If you’re sensitive to this material, please don’t walk in knowingly, fuck yourself up, and have a bad day. I love you kids too much for that. Also remember this is for roleplay, I will be discussing the awkward as fuck things, like “picking which symptoms match your character” and “using panic attacks in plot.” 

Writers, amirite? (Please only continue if you’re in the mental space for it! It can get graphic and triggering. Take breaks as needed.)

To reassure my readers, yes, I have had panic attacks an awful lot. So I can actually speak from experience for once. But only my experience, so give me some slack if yours hits you differently, or if I don’t nail it. Give other writers that slack too, and don’t think one size fits all will ever work here. Give them the benefit of the doubt, so long as they make a decent effort. No one needs their panic attacks nitpicked, it’s either from personal experience or to further the plot. Do either of those things really need someone telling them right at that moment they’re not doing it right? If they’re just making a mockery of it OOCly, go ahead and rip ‘em with facts. ICly, well, Jan. It’s supposed to be problematic, that’s a plot hook for character growth. If it bugs you, communicate that OOCly you’d like to move on.

So anyways, let’s just waltz right into the thick of it. According to the diagnostic criteria listed in the DSM-5, panic attacks are experienced as a sudden sense of fear and dread plus four or more of the following mental, emotional, and physical symptoms:

Heart palpitations or accelerated heart rate

Feelings of numbness or tingling sensations

Excessive sweating

Trembling or shaking

Shortness of breath or smothering sensations

Feeling of choking

Chest pain or discomfort

Nausea or abdominal pain

Feeling dizzy, unsteady, lightheaded, or faint

Chills or hot flashes

Derealization and/or depersonalization

Fear of losing control or going crazy

Fear of dying

So immediately we realize, not everyone’s panic attacks are going to be the same thing. Some people get their heart beating a mile a minute, and feel like they’re miles away, are scared they’ll die, and be afraid they’ll lose control. Some people will have aggressive chest pains, start sweating and shaking, then feel like they’re going to pass out, choke, and vomit at the same time. Can you see why those would present differently in a roleplay, or how they’d fit different character models better, or even the outcomes of these on different personalities? That’s important to the writer right there. You have to understand your character and how they would experience fear, and sensations that are unpleasant, and which ones they’re feeling.

The only thing that is solidly in every panic attack is that sudden feeling of dread or fear. People who have not had one can relate to it, honestly. Have you ever turned off the lights in your bathroom or some dark spooky hallway and suddenly felt like something was in there? Then you have to fucking run before the thing gets you, or turn on a light to check, and the hairs rise on your neck and your eyes open up wide enough to suck in every photon of light for miles because suddenly your brain wants the power to see in the dark? Yeah. That creeping feeling of being prey is the dread and fear. Yes, people may feel these differently. Fear is not exactly one size fits all. But this is a pretty good start to understanding the drop of an ‘oh fuck’ barreling down on you from behind.

Myths abound on panic attack causes, but the truth is simple. Sometimes, they happen because something triggered it, but a lot of the time there is no trigger. Your body just decides to fuck you over because that seems like a great idea right now. You can’t even really avoid them by sleeping. That’s right, you can get panic attacks while dead asleep. That’s so thoughtful of them, they don’t want you miss out, I say in the most sarcastic voice ever.

The good thing is, no, you can’t die from a panic attack or be ‘driven insane’,and no they aren’t just you overreacting to fear or pain. They aren’t even always part of a panic disorder (other disorders bring them to the party too). The good news is, although they suck rancid eggs, they can be managed. If you treat some of the underlying causes, you can help lessen them over time. 

What disorders are linked? Oh boy, that’s a hell of a list. Anxiety disorders are a big one, agoraphobia, OCD, depression, Bipolar disorder. They all like to invite panic attacks with them. Other fun party guests are eating disorders, personality disorders, and substance-related conditions. Heck, GERD, IBS, and sleeping disorders are also friends with panic attacks. So while writing your character, look at what might be the underlying cause of it. Whatever building blocks you pick end up visible in not only panic attacks you decided to throw in to make the scene worse, but a constant background noise to their lives.

That’s one of the important things you need to remember. If you choose to give your character a condition like the above, there’s a couple rules that make this go over a lot better with the community. Let’s look at them.

Do not only use it to get attention. It may be plot relevant, but if it comes up every single time the spotlight is off you, it gets old quick. This is a shitty medical thing, not your golden ticket to being fussed over.

Do not use the disorder as their only personality. You have a character who happens to have and live with the disorder, not a walking form of the disorder who happens to have some character stuck in there.

Do not use it to only have good things happen. Realistically, you may get a panic attack at the worst time ever and fuck everything up. Don’t make it a ‘get out of jail free’ card, balance it with bad timing and bad outcomes.

Do not play Sympathy Sue with it. We don’t want to have to coax, dote, and protect your character every step of the way in a story without them ever showing signs of doing anything but keeping the attention on them and their issues. In real life, real people have personalities beyond their issues, they have friends, they tend to learn how to manage things over time. So let your character grow, and show themselves too. In writing, we do this for fun and to escape bad things. We don’t want to shoulder something during playtime, we may encounter often in real life.

Do not go into this without research. Practice writing up little stories to describe the symptoms. Read everything you can. Look up webpages, blogs, and everything where people are offering the information on their struggles freely. 

Make sure everyone in the group is comfortable playing this out. It can trigger things when you go whole hog descriptive about every symptom they have until they suddenly start having one in real life because fuck, they’re right there again. Never surprise someone with a panic attack in character unless you know it’s okay, or are willing to just skim over it.

Understand the gist of why these exist? Good. Go with the spirit of them, not the letter of them. Basically respect, even though as writers we intentionally use them for plot and growth, we should not abuse that ability by lacking respect for the real people who have them. Be tactful, be polite, be respectful as the person behind the keyboard. Anything that isn’t tactful, polite, or respectful had better be in character, and had better relate to the plot and characterization pretty damn well. You should also make it very obvious that you disagree with the character in narration. If they say something crass or obtuse, point out that they said something crass and obtuse. 

“It’s not like it’s really that bad, you’re just scared right? Get over it, you whiner,” he said, sneering. His lack of empathy for the subject really showed his lack of experience with it.

Tada, by adding in one line, you’re a better writer in general, and have accurately explored characterization while pointing out you recognize he’s a total asshole. Doing things in a way that clearly shows you give a damn and understand what you’re choosing to let the character do is the key to not pissing someone else off.

Okay so back to the attacks! These symptoms are basically just names right now. You can say what’s happening straight out, and that’s cool, but... how do you make your reader empathize with them? You’re going to want to explore each of these feelings in writing, or at least the ones you know you’re going to use. This is homework! Explain each of these in detail in a way you can connect with them. Put yourself into your character’s position, and write from the heart.

Their heart racing, what do they feel when this happens? The skipping beats that feel awkward and clunky? The way you can feel it pounding along, a mile a minute, ready to burst out of your chest? Go running, when your heart rate gets up there, you’ll really fucking quickly pick up on how that part feels. The pounding, heaviness of a heart going so fast your shirt is trembling, and your hands can’t stay steady. Describe it, describe how that heartbeat going mad feels to you and how out of place it is.

Tingling and numbness? You might have had a limb go to sleep before, use that as a jumping off point. Except in a panic attack, it’s everywhere and the pins aren’t painful. They’re just a loss of feeling everywhere. Your hands tickle with them, your skin feels like it’s tightened up weird, and can’t feel like it used to even if you’re hypersensitive to touch. Sweating so much you soak the sheets? Use that experience, the dripping, the suddenness. How it contrasts with the temperature being comfortable. Sweating from anxiousness or nerves. Damp palms. I fucking hate flop sweats like that, because I end up with a disgusting feeling scalp, wet neck, and my body is just damp all over after I’ve been through an extreme.

Everyone’s probably trembled in their lives. A shiver through your limbs. What happens when you tremble? Is it harder to write, or grab onto things? Is your grip worse? Explore how trembling effects your environment as much as it effects you. It helps to understand that the tremble is sudden, violent. You cannot stop it, it’s beyond your control, and you struggle to keep yourself from showing it a lot if you’re that type of a person. Since it’s down to personality, someone might have a shaking quavering voice, or they might be hiding that shaking hand and stiffening up to hide it all from the others.

Choking, smothering, unable to breathe... well that sounds like running to me, but I’m out of shape as hella. Crying does it too though, unable to get past a throat filled with snot. The absolute lack of breath, it’s like you’re depressurized. Remember nothing, from the feeling of choking, to the stitch in your side, to feeling sick to your stomach, is exclusive to a panic attack. You’ll probably have encountered being dizzy or light headed in your life without ever seeing a panic attack. Chills and hot flashes too. They can be way more extreme, like sitting there shivering and teeth chattering despite being in a 85°F/29°C room. Just absolutely taken by how cold you are, and nothing can warm you because you’re already sweating. It looks a lot like a symptom of shock, which is why they throw those blankets over you after a severe accident of any kind, even if you’re not hurt.

While you’re looking at those, don’t just look at the symptom. Look at the character’s reaction to the symptoms. Does stomach pain make them cry? Does it make the shortness of breath worse? Do they have sweating, lightheadedness, hot flashes, and nausea and just wave it off as a thing that’s happening because they’re scared? Mix and match. Some characters handle things better than others. Some have different reactions. Find them, and pull them out and shove them in the light for other people to see.

The final symptoms are a bit more in-depth because we can’t find aspects of them to jump off of from real life. Derealization, depersonalization, a fear of losing control or not feeling ‘sane’, or a fear of dying? These we might not feel very often or at all if we’re neurotypical. So we’re going to rely on people who have experienced them to learn about what they’re like. That’s dangerous territory, be respectful when you explore it. Not sure where you’ll find details on these without stepping on toes? Hi! I’ve had all of them, so lemme get down to brass tacks and tell you what they may be like. Once again, one person’s experiences do not equal all people’s experiences, but as an intelligent person with critical thinking you knew that and were totally going to google Reddit threads and blogs about the subject if you intended to write them, right?

So, derealization and depersonalization are very interconnected, which is probably while they’re listed as a grouped symptom in the list. They are experiencing the feeling of becoming entirely unhinged from either reality, or yourself. It’s a wild sensation to be several feet outside of your body, watching as everything happens. It’s even more wild that it can vary, a few inches away, or even just ‘somewhere else’ while your body keeps going. You can lose your entire grip on a situation, your mind fully consumed with something else, to the point you don’t really feel like it’s you talking, or moving. 

Same thing when everything stops feeling real. Like you’re in a movie, or a dream, watching shit play out you have no control over. Yet, you function through it. On autopilot, saying the things you would say, doing the things you would or should do. Even though you’re feeling a bubble or padding between you and there. In my case, I’ve definitely felt like I was underwater, and should be unable to breathe, but I was breathing fine, looking through this glassy feeling at a body that was going through a panic attack, but it wasn’t really me. It was a bunch of chemical firing, everything happening felt rehearsed, fake, and far away. Like, it had been predetermined to happen, and I had no control over it. 

It’s varied between feeling like I, personally, am not the person doing shit. I look into a mirror, and some stranger is looking back at me, who has the wrong everything. Sometimes everything isn’t real, there’s no way everything can look like this can feel like this when the world is shutting down for me. I am empty, why is the world doing this, it cannot be real. Except it is. This is such a numbing, empty experience, that it leaves you really struggling to find something to anchor yourself to. Those are not my hands. My hands aren’t that size. This room is not my room, it looks wrong, the color is off in a way I can’t describe, the comfort isn’t for me. It’s really fucking mindboggling, and all this?

Is on top of other symptoms. At the same time. My dude lemme tell you, wearing another person’s skin and watching them unable to breath because they’re choking on air, while they suddenly go freezing cold, teeth chattering, is a TRIP! 

Fear of losing control or going crazy is fun too, in the way that I can being super sarcastic on one hand because it’s not fun at all; and also very very genuine because I have an analytical mind and it’s cool to see my own brain degrade in front of me. When in the throes of this, I definitely know I’m not insane, but what if I am? What if this is the moment I snap and lose it entirely? What if this is the terrifying reality now, that I’m never going to get any of these other symptoms under control, and instead I’m going to get worse and start chewing the walls and attacking people left and right? What if this is my breaking point? 

The terror just eats away at you, because no matter how much someone says that you’re gonna be fine, and that you’re not insane, they have no idea. They’re not a professional, and they don’t have some kind of little device that lets them see what’s going on in your head. When your thoughts get jumbled and frantic like that, it can super feel like you’re losing the plot entirely. You really do start to believe there’s no hope for you and they’re going drag you off and drug you up because everything that makes you you has spiderwebbed into this wild ass new person who has had their sanity ripped out of their hands. 

I blame Hollywood for a lot of this, because you see this kind of thing happen. Someone becomes too emotional, and wa-bam, they never come back from it. They got comatose, or hysterical and have to be dragged away. They never quite make it back to their former selves, and that! Is! terrifying! And just the kind of unrealistic thing a mind having met it’s limit would throw at you because it can no longer keep track of what is actually happening.

Fear of dying is the last one, and after the things above, is it really any surprise that you might feel like you were dying in the middle of all this? Now the last time I got this, I had managed to get a head injury and a seizure so maybe it was an ickle bitty bit of a realistic fear. (Also, I’m fine, but obviously some things have happened since I last wrote for you guys, be nice to me.) With all these feelings of rushing inevitability, fear of the end of yourself is RIGHT up there waving its hands and demanding to be seen. This is, I also got this from... slightly cutting my thumb while cooking.

It doesn’t have to make sense, I knew my thumb was not going to bleed out, but I was ready to face death because oh no, something terrible has happened. My brain saw one big drop of blood, and it was done. I was officially dying. I would lose the thumb, I would get gangrene, I would die in a corner somewhere. It became something that overwhelmed all my senses and I had to lay down for a while and let it pass. All I wanted was someone to be there for me while I was inevitably dying of a boo boo. That’s how extreme it can go from literally nothing, so it’s super hard to shake off if you pick it as one of your character’s responses!

Now if you had to take a break during this at any time, that’s perfectly normal. It may be a sign that you shouldn’t RP this situation though, because that’s gonna be even more intense. Plus, if it’s tied to your character, and you’re the type to be inside your characters POV for the smoothest writing process? You might feel like it’s happening to you. Method acting can bite you in the ass if this is something you can trigger by experiencing it. On the other hand, RPing your way through it can help compartmentalize it, and putting those horrible feelings into a new situation can help you recontextualize it from an outside perspective. Making it easier later to go through a panic attack because now you have another experience to draw from. There’s a reason Therapists like it when you roleplay.

Just remember, roleplaying is for story and fun. If you find yourself far too deep, aftercare may be needed. You don’t have to always ask someone else for that, you can just give yourself something relaxing after play. Hit up your favorite goofy TV show. Eat a treat you really love and let yourself be in the moment while you savor it. Take a nice warm bath if that’s the kind of thing that relaxes you. Sure, it’s roleplay, but it can have a real emotional effect on you, same as any other experience! So, if you need to, find someone you can talk it out with. If not friends, then a professional who can give you the tools to make the most of your new experience in helping yourself. Hell, if you simply got to the end of this and feel drained or something, go give yourself a treat and cool off a bit!

Anyways thank you for reading! Hope this helps in really expressing panic attacks a little more clearly in text, but always remember to CHECK IN on your partner. Make SURE they’re comfortable with the level of detail you want to get into! If not, go for a lighter hand! Write a vignette on the side, and upload it to your Tumblr as a fanfic of your RP if you wanna prove your skills without effecting other people! Tag your shit! Be aware of those around you, and really do make sure everyone’s comfortable when you’re exploring topics like these.

If you try your best to get it right and do the research, it’s obvious to others. You’ll be fine. Happy RPing!

[hopelessromantic5]

Opening to a very long fic that I’ve been working on forever.

Merlin and Arthur meet as young teenagers instead of young adults. They grow and mature together. Arthur being aware of his magic the entire time. Also Igraine lives because I love her.

As far back as he could remember, life as a human, for Arthur Pendragon, was confusing.

When he celebrated his 5th name-day, and was gifted a brand new sparkling mirror for his chambers, Arthur would sit for hours looking at himself. At his body, wondering what was going on inside that he could not see, but could feel. The constant beat of his heart, the expanding of his lungs as he drew breath, of course he didn’t know the names of all these things yet, but he knew they were important. They must be, to be locked in a cage of bone and flesh. To be hidden from the world.

Some days, Arthur would peer into the looking glass and would not recognize himself. As if he were looking at a stranger, or a mythical creature that his mother liked to tell him stories of. It seemed so foreign, to have hands that flex and move muscles all the way up his arms, to stand on two legs and walk about the world, trying to do what, exactly? His young brain was attempting to compute things that no one has just one answer for.

There were times when Arthur could feel his mortality and physical limits like cold iron bars, he didn’t have a name for it, yet it always settled into his chest and left him staring at his canopy, unable to sleep.

But other times…

Other times he felt like he could fly off the ramparts, or take on an army with a hand tied behind his back. As he grew older, he learned to request leave from his father to practice riding when he felt this way.

By 10 summers, Arthur was more proficient with horses than most adult nobles, and nearly up to par with the infamous knights of Camelot.

His training started a year later.

[nebuladreamz]

GAMERS!! WE'RE LIVE!!

I DIDN'T MEAN TO TAKE SO FUCKING LONG SORRY YALL U M-

[pianokantzart]

If You Can’t Stand The Heat

One-shot fic. Don’t know if it qualifies as fluff/angst or hurt/comfort, but ptsd is definitely happening.

Mario and Luigi settle into a new home in The Mushroom Kingdom shortly after their victory over Bowser. Both try their best to embrace the new normal, but both have their own struggles wrapping their heads around everything they just survived.

Now posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46686196

______________________________________

Luigi never had a kitchen to himself before. The moment he and his brother declared themselves homeowners, his entire family, near and far, pitched in to make sure they had everything they needed. The kitchen especially was stocked with all their hearts desired, as everyone in the family had a spare something: cutlery, spatulas, measuring spoons, cutting boards, cheese graters, rolling pins, crock pots, meat tenderizers, bread machines, pitchers, pots, pans, knives, blenders, choppers, slicers, mixers, grinders, peelers, juicers, shakers… Mario tried to explain that they could stock their own kitchen– the plumbing business was going great, they had money now, but nobody listened. In their own loud, pushy, overbearing way, they only wanted to make sure he and his brother were taken care of. They were family, after all.

While Luigi had always pitched in to help cook for big events and celebrations back in Brooklyn, the kitchen was his mother’s domain, kept pristine, efficient, and orderly. She was an unstoppable machine that churned out three multi-course meals a day, all made from scratch. She worked hard, poured her whole heart into every detail, and always made sure everyone was fed and taken care of. Luigi was often told– sometimes condescendingly– he took after his mother, but to him this was no insult. Quite the opposite. At last he had a kitchen of his own, and though he was cooking for a household of two rather than nine it felt like no less of a responsibility, especially given the way Mario had been for the past few days. To anyone who hadn’t lived with Mario his entire life, he seemed fine. Better than fine. He behaved like his usual self, head raised high and a spring in his step, ready to take on the world. Nobody else knew how little sleep he was getting, sitting up in bed while looking back and forth between his brother and the window like a newly-hired guard dog, waiting for the worst. Nobody else saw how his whole body shifted into a fighting stance at the slightest hint of trouble, the worry in his eyes every time Luigi stepped away for longer than a minute.

For as long as Luigi could remember, Mario treated his own life with reckless abandon while treating Luigi’s like it was more valuable than the world itself. It was only two weeks ago that they nearly lost each other, and then found each other, and then saved each other by the skin of their teeth. Luigi, feeling a little guilty, was dead set on seeing to it that all was made right again. He was happy to stick close to his brother for as long as needed, stay up talking for long hours into the night, and manage the plumbing business whenever Mario finally felt calm enough to fall asleep (no matter what time of day it was). But more than anything he kept their new house clean and organized, intent on ensuring every square inch of it truly felt like home– a safe haven where nothing could hurt them. 

Of course, their first home-cooked meal would be a major milestone, and what better way to launch their kitchen than with an old-fashioned Italian pizza? Luigi layered the sauce and the mozzarella on the freshly stretched dough while the oven preheated, singing “Che La Luna” to himself while Mario sat in the living room, trying to beat the first boss of Kid Icarus.

“You sure you don’t want any help, Luigi?” “I said I’ve got this!” Luigi called back, pausing his singing as he added fresh basil leaves and a sprinkle of salt. “I’m almost done. Dinner in five!”

Luigi plucked up the pizza peel by handle and headed toward the oven, pleased with his handiwork. He picked the tune back where he left off, taking a moment to twirl proudly in his apron as he crossed the kitchen floor. “C' 'na luna mezz'u mare Mamma mia m'a maritare!…” He carefully held his creation in his right hand as he leaned down and opened the oven door. “Figlia mia a cu te dare Mamma mia pensace-”

The blast of heat hit him. Luigi suddenly stopped singing. He had been so lost in his own thoughts… he didn’t even expect the oven to feel like this, five hundred degrees fahrenheit slamming against his cheeks like a heavy blow. Blindsided by the sensation, an uncontrollable tremor slowly overtook him, the pizza he had so carefully prepared falling out of his hands, clattering to the tile floor.

“Lu! You okay?” Luigi didn’t hear Mario’s voice. The comforting presence one room over disappeared under an ocean of fear that crashed down upon him, suffocating him. The cozy kitchen, the golden light of evening streaming through the open window, and the smell of yeast and flour evaporated under ash and sulfur, boiling magma lapping at his feet and red-hot iron bending beneath his hands. His heart pounded so hard he felt like it was about to burst, blood rushing to his head and turning his mind inside out while it desperately attempted to grasp reality… This wasn’t real! It was over! He was safe! He was home! He… Heat. He was trapped. He was burning. Luigi leapt back from the oven, hitting himself against the island table as he fell. Hard stone, sharp claws, bony hands, crushing scales, falling debris. Heat. Oppressive, inescapable as death.

“Mario!” Luigi screamed his brother’s name on instinct, unaware he was already in the doorway, rushing to his side.

“Luigi! what’s wrong?” Mario took hold of his brother. Luigi tried to wriggle out of his grasp as though his life depended on it. He shook violently, pressing his hands tightly to his face as he screamed again, voice cracking with terror and desperation. 

“Mario!”

“I’m here Lu! I’ve got you!” With some effort, Mario managed to force Luigi’s hands away from his face. He held Luigi’s cheeks and looked into his eyes– they were wide, tearful, looking past everything toward some undisclosed horror in the middle distance. At last they shifted, returning to the present world, settling upon the face in front of him. He shivered terribly, his breathing shallow, his brow soaked in sweat as recognition finally dawned on him. “… Mario?”

“I’ve got you.” Mario pulled Luigi close, pressing their foreheads together as they sat on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a mess of trampled dough and scattered flour. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” Mario repeated softly, “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

________________

That night, they had ice cream for dinner. Mario stood in the living room in front of the coffee-table-turned-dessert-bar, and split a tub of butterscotch-caramel between two dishes, topping them with mounds of whipped cream, sprinkles, and cherries. Luigi sat on the nearby couch, wrapped in a quilt, watching his brother divvy out the icecream from a carton that still had the smudged remnants of “Mario’s! Do not touch!” written on the side in sharpie, hastily scratched out at the last minute. 

“You want pecans too?” Mario asked, already popping open the tin. Luigi nodded, tightening the blanket a little further around his shoulders. His hands still shivered as he took the bowl from his brother. He was quiet for a moment, taking a few bites of the ice cream, fighting down another wave of tears that tried to bubble to the surface even now that the worst of the attack had left him. He was miserable. Exhausted. Defeated. “I feel so stupid.”

“You shouldn’t.” Mario sat on the couch, shoulder-to-shoulder against his brother while holding his sundae in his lap. “This is normal, I think. I mean... you went through a lot.”

“You didn’t fall apart like this.” Luigi whined, “You went through a lot too.” “What I went through is different.” Mario retorted, stirring his sundae into a brown, chocolatey slurry with his spoon, “I wasn’t alone like you were. Even from the first moment I landed in The Mushroom Kingdom I had Toad watching my back. You didn’t have anyone.”

Luigi didn’t say anything, he just looked at his older brother. Mario was right, but he didn’t like how guilty he looked while saying it. It wasn’t his fault that they got ripped in separate directions, it wasn’t his fault they ended up where they ended up. He did everything he could. He did amazing, all considering. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mario asked, breaking the silence between them. “You know… what happened to you while we were apart?”

Luigi took a bite of his ice cream to buy himself time to consider his response. The answer was no, of course, even though Luigi knew talking about it would be good for him. He dreaded the thought of putting his experience into words. Even in the daylight hours, when all was well and the world was as it should be, merely thinking about The Dark Lands made his chest hurt and his hair stand on end. “Can I talk about it tomorrow?” “You can talk about it whenever you like,” Mario assured. He reached his free hand over to Luigi’s shoulder and tugged him into a playful side hug. “You’ve been here for me Lu, but don’t forget I’m here for you too! and I’m gonna keep being here, every step of the way. That’s a promise.”

Luigi smiled. Tears welled up in his eyes, far from the fearful tears that had plagued him moments before. “Mario…” Luigi set his ice cream down on the coffee table in front of him, rubbed his tears away on the palm of his hand, and plucked his little-big brother up into a bear hug. Mario barely had enough time to put his own ice cream down safely before being yanked into the embrace. “…We’re a mess.” Luigi chuckled, sounding happy at last. The shivering was almost gone, his breathing was steady, and his heartbeat was almost normal. Mario noted each of these things while he was pressed against his brother, and couldn’t help but smile as well. He’d be okay. Whether Luigi knew it or not, he was strong as either of them. It would take a bit of time, but they were going to be okay.

“Yeah.” Mario laughed, resting his chin against his brother’s shoulder, “we sure are.”

[emmaloo21butwriting]

Can He Save Them

@gay-dorito-dust for supporting the idea :) I was the anon, I don’t know why it went anon that was not on purpose @sweetheartlizzie07 because they said they wanted to read it, and btw it was inspired by Andrew Garfield y’know

warnings because it is a handful; Crying, Kidnapping, Screaming, Panic Attacks, Death, Acid, Denial, and tell me if you find more please

also, if you find a section that says she/her pronouns, tell me. That’s how I’m used to writing but I’m trying to switch to they/them. But I do still use girlfriend in this fic, I don’t like using partner because it seems kind of weird to me, any suggestions and I’ll change it

Also, it’s an angst fic

”My girlfriend has been kidnapped,” Billy said to Rosa, “Why would I not freak out?! How could someone know I’m Shazam! What did I do wrong?!”

“Billy, calm down,” Rosa hugged him, he was crying, then then the news channel sent out an emergency video to be watched.

Everyone turned to see it.

“Hey, Shazam,” a man in a black mask said, staring at the screen in front of him.

“I hope you’re seeing this, because, I’m not doing it again. But your poor dearest Y/n is with me and, I’m assuming you want them back, yes?” He chuckled, “Either, you give me your powers, or they die, or both! It is your choice, I know you love them, and how easily I could snap their little neck would hurt, would it not?” Then it switched back to the news.

Billy was having a panic attack on the floor, Rosa was in front of him, he was sobbing, he could not breathe, his whole body trembling.

“Billy, Breathe.” Rosa said, “I know people hate getting told that, but please try.”

He did, he really did.

“You go save your girlfriend, okay? But the others are not home, so it’s just you.”

“I..” He leaned into his mothers embrace, unable to bare his hurt.

•••

Shazam saw Y/n, tied up, upside down, about to fall into a pool of acid.

“Hey, where’s the staff?” The guy asked, his voice way squeaker than before.

“You sound so menacing,” Shazam chuckled.

“That’s what they said to!” He whined, “Now, where is the staff?”

“You don’t have it?” Shazam stared at him.

“No, I don’t, which means,” he pulled a lever and Y/n fell in, Shazam screamed.

“And to know it’s all your fault,” he grinned, disappearing with a snap.

Shazam stared into the bucket of acid, they were in there, he flew up, pulled the rope that held them, tying it up so they hung up, he untied them, holding their body.

He then flew away from the acid, down to a pond at a park and placed them in, acid going everywhere, they was dead, he was sobbing.

“No, that’s not fair!” He cried, “Y/n! Y/n!”

The commotion was heard and people went over, Victor stared at Y/n and Shazam.

Freddy went over, staring.

•••

Billy had shut everyone out of his life, he would no longer go on missions, anything, he just hated the thought.

He killed his girlfriend, his love, the person he could always rely on. The person he adored, he trusted.

Their funeral was today, he was crying and sobbing, but their body was not found in the casket, their mother screamed.

Billy had gone silent, his crying stopped, he said nothing, the ring he had in his pocket. The one he was going to propose to them with today if they still had been able to go on that date.

It was a mystery, no one understood. Billy had never been more freaked out, where were they?

•••

Billy was crying in his room, when the door rang to the house. He just so happened to be the only one home. He went downstairs and answered it.

“Hello, honey.” Y/n’s mother smiled, “I’ve got something to tell you…”

[trippyshit24601]

I feel like I'm falling into an endless pit of pure hell

[blackbird-brewster]

Hey heads up fam, at about 20 minutes into the new Game Changer episode (Sam Says 3) there is a sudden jump scare involving a prop body falling out of the ceiling and dropping onto the ground.

People who are triggered by falling, jump scares, loud noises, BE AWARE.

@samreich @dropoutdottv

[theanarik]

Girl, wake up, new tanthamore 5+1 just dropped!!!!

Tittle: Worth the risk

Summary: Jade is not entirely sure how it all began, and she’s certain that Kit doesn’t either. One day she’s waiting for a coffee cup to go and then Kit is pretending to be her girlfriend to get a man off Jade’s back, one that didn’t seem to like or take a no for an answer.

Or: Five times Kit and Jade pretended to be in a relationship, and one time they didn't have to.

Read on A03

0

Jade is not entirely sure how it all began, and she’s certain that Kit doesn’t either. One day she’s waiting for a coffee cup to go and then Kit is pretending to be her girlfriend to get a man off Jade’s back, one that didn’t seem to like or take a no for an answer. He didn’t back off, of course not; he became annoying after a while, talking at them about how he would be the one to cure them. He even insisted that he was into threesomes, and just got away from them when their disgusted faces became too much for him.

While that is something that Jade can pinpoint happening a not-so-while ago, she’s sure that there have been other instances of them just pretending to be each other’s partners when uncomfortable with others. At some point, Jade thinks, they agreed on a signal, something inconspicuous that they could do in public and that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. They tried many things: hand movements, nose and ear scratches, tongue poking; but those never really stuck. It wasn’t until Kit realized that they both did the same gesture (scratch the back of their necks while avoiding eye contact) when uncomfortable that they figured out how to pull it off.

[bittersweetblasphemy]

hey so i really dont appreciate being confronted with graphic depictions of something that i know is a trigger for me. like. i have a dozen tags and key words blocked around this one thing because i know it's my responsibility to curate my own online experience.

but if you're going to post this thing, which is vastly different from your regular content. with absolutely no appropriate tags. is extremely graphic. all for the sake of guilting me into caring about a current event i already care about but have fuckall control over as a poor cripple who lives oceans away. i really don't appreciate it.

[thethingything]

do you ever write out a post and then remember the reading comprehension on this site is abysmal and you can practically feel the potential shitty comments and think "actually no this isn't worth it"

[masked-vee]

Slowly, Mouse opened their eyes. They were back in the Stitched Castle, Hero's Road, more specifically. Looking around, they noticed that the halls were bigger than before. Walking down the hall, they could hear voices. They ran as fast as the could, halls feeling longer the more they ran. The voices sounded... familiar...

"A............ou two, list....up! ...........ches gave................ha.....way. ........ill..........pass thr...............the boss.............defeat him!"

"You do.................just cannon....................we don't............that monster! ...............drop..............or something."

The more those voices spoke, the more Mouse realized who those voices belonged to.

"Well, we're not............ with that attitude...... Hey, you!...........The quiet one back................anything to say?"

The chandelier... Mouse thought as their legs shakily caried them closer to the voices. Bumping into a large mass, Mouse looked up, and their blood went ice cold.

"Ready to meet the masked void, worm?" A masked kid proclaimed.

"Wow, that was awful. What does that... even mean...?"

As the masked kids bickered, Mouse saw themself, shakily gripping the lever that connected to the chandelier. The same chandelier that crushed the hero.

"I was so scared when the hero came, and then my fellow underlings left me behind..."

As if their body was controlled by something else, Mouse's past self pulled the lever down.

"Say, weren't we supposed to be a trio?" Realization hit the masked kid. "Oh, no..." At that point it was too late for anyone to react as the chandelier rapidly fell on everyone...

"I snapped all of a sudden, and let the chandelier fall... I couldn't believe what I had done..."

Mouse woke up screaming and clutching on to their chest. Cereza woke up to see her little friend hyperventilating. "Mouse...? Mouse?!"

"Wha...what's going on...?" Elizabeth asked groggily.

"I think their having a panic attack." The princess murmured.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Mouse repeated over, and over as they breathed rapidly.

"Oh no..." The hilt murmured. Cereza hugged Mouse tight as they gasped and sobbed, they were unable to hear her or feel her touch.

A couple minutes pass, the tiny Eevee slowly wrapped their arms around the princess, hugging her back, still crying.

"It's okay... I'm here... Ellie's here... You're safe... no one's going to hurt you..." Cereza whispered. "I promise..."

The two girls let the underhero cry it out, until they grew tired and fell back asleep. Cereza didn't let go of Mouse, not even as she grew drowsy herself, closing her eyes. The trio finally drift to sleep.

"I... I am so sorry."

[thecouncilofidiots]

Mm, I 100% understand and support posting about Important Things, but please please tag properly and provide warnings for images/not have the image be the first thing on the post so people can't scroll by if they're not in the right headspace to see that content.

Posting triggering things uncensored for shock value to prompt response?

Dick move, guys, dick move.

Not everybody can handle that. Sending people into unexpected panic/anxiety attacks, PTSD flashbacks, ect is pretty shitty.

[fnaf7801]

Description:

This is like a comic book series where you can ask questions to the characters and yes for others who are following me like VOAdam or Hailysenpai can use my comics but be sure to credit me.

Rules:

Ask the characters one time (Don't spam)

Angst is always allowed

There are some backstories that can be asked including if they are hardcore.

I will tell you about their mental illnesses.

LGBTQ+ (Respect it, please)

Blood and Gore is allowed.

Don't be mean or disrespectful to me. I will block you if I have to.

The Pizza Servers 🍕🤎💛💜❤️🩵🧡🖤:

Name: Bonnie Bunnington

Age: 30's (38 years old)

Nationality: Brooklyn, NYC

Occupation: Guitarist, and chill father.

Love Interest: Chica Clucker (Wife)

Sexuality: Straight, Alley

Kids: Wolfstep (Adopted Son), Freddy (Adopted Son), Finn (Adopted Son), Foxy (Adopted Son), Goldie (Adopted Daughter)

Mental illness: None

Personality: Chill, fiercely overprotective of his kids and wife, will get angry if someone pisses him off.

Name: Chica Bonita Clucker

Age: 30's (34 years old)

Nationality: Mexican, Puerto Rican

Occupation: Cooker, and singer

Love interest: Bonnie Bunnington (Husband)

Sexuality: Straight, Alley

Mental Illness: None?

Kids: Wolfstep (Adopted Son), Freddy (Adopted Son), Finn (Adopted Son), Foxy (Adopted Son), Goldie (Adopted Daughter)

Personality: Happy, caring, gentle, and beautiful.

Name: Wolfstep Bunnington

Age: 18 (The eldest brother)

Nationality: German, France

Occupation: Bodyguard, fighter

Love interest: Meadowblaze (ex-girlfriend), Sparrowfeather (Crush)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Mental Illness: PTSD, Anxiety

Family: Darkfoot (Biological father), Nightfall (Biological mother, deceased †), Daniel (Older half-brother, deceased †), Blizzardclaw (Older half-brother, deceased †), Snowfur (Young half- sister, deceased †), Bluestar (young half-sister, deceased †), Freddy (Younger half-brother), Finn (Younger half-brother), Bonnie (Adoptive Father), Chica (Adoptive Mother), Foxy (Younger adoptive brother), Goldie (Younger half-sister)

Personality: Quiet, sleep deprived, and hostile if any hurts or harms his family.

Name: Freddy Bunnington

Age: 15 (Youngest brother)

Nationality: Italian, Spanish, French

Occupation: Singer

Love interests: Candy Cat (Ex-boyfriend), Scourge (Crush)

Sexuality: Gay

Mental Illness: PTSD, Depression

Family: Darkfoot (Biological father), Lilyheart (Biological mother), Daniel (Older half-brother, deceased †), Blizzardclaw (Older half-brother, deceased †), Snowfur (Young half- sister, deceased †), Bluestar (young half-sister, deceased †), Finn (Twin brother), Bonnie (Adoptive Father), Chica (Adoptive Mother), Foxy (Younger adoptive brother), Goldie (Younger sister)

Personality: Strong, brave, and bold. Overprotective if Goldie gets a boyfriend.

Name: Finn Bunnington

Age: 15 (Twin brother)

Nationality: Italian, Spanish, French

Occupation: Backup singer

Love Interest: Sandstorm

Sexuality: Bisexual

Family: Darkfoot (Biological father), Lilyheart (Biological mother), Daniel (Older half-brother, deceased †), Blizzardclaw (Older half-brother, deceased †), Snowfur (Young half- sister, deceased †), Bluestar (young half-sister, deceased †), Freddy (Twin brother), Bonnie (Adoptive Father), Chica (Adoptive Mother), Foxy (Younger adoptive brother), Goldie (Younger sister)

Mental Illness: ADHD

Personality: Dumb, lovable, silly boi-

Name: Foxy Bunnington

Age: 13

Love interest: None

Sexuality: Asexual, Acroace, Aromatic

Mental Illness: Bipolar Disorder

Family: Bonnie (Adoptive Father), Chica (Adoptive Mother), Wolfstep (Adoptive older brother), Freddy (Adoptive older brother), Finn (Adoptive older brother), Goldie (Younger sister)

Personality: Irresponsible, house breaker, rule breaker, funny, and reckless.

Name: Goldie Bunnington

Age: 18 months

Love interest: She's a baby-

Sexuality: None

Darkfoot (Biological father), Lilyheart (Biological mother), Daniel (Older half-brother, deceased †), Blizzardclaw (Older half-brother, deceased †), Snowfur (Young half- sister, deceased †), Bluestar (young half-sister, deceased †), Wolfstep (Adoptive Older half-brother), Freddy (Older brother), Finn (Older brother), Bonnie (Adoptive Father), Chica (Adoptive Mother), Foxy (Younger adoptive brother)