#cw: panic attack

[ym523]

Bit of a side project I needed to do for myself 🙇🏻‍♀️ might build on it in future.

[phoenixashwork]

I wonder who taught Mugman how to ground himself?

[l0stn3v3rf0und]

BANDEE AND THE FORGOTTEN LAND - CHAPTER THREE (84)

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[haqiqa-anqa]

@dragon-knight-timaeus

Terror struck him like lightning. Yurae held his head. Trembling. He couldn't move. Practically frozen in place.

"No. C-Can't... Be..."

He wanted to believe it was just a nightmare. An illusion. But the royal could sense it. The Leviathan's presence didn't flicker nor fade. Not even a little. This was real. Very real. Yura's curse weighed on him more than ever. What could he possibly do?

[diluted-calico]

the month of evernight

march 3rd/evernight x reader (some hurt, much comfort)

cw: panic attacks, derealization, negative thoughts, reader does lash out when first asked if they are okay, one mention of “Reader” and i was so trying to think of a way to not break immersion but i couldnt, erm if any more pop up lmk!

a/n: minute as in tiny for this btw!!! ugly criers unite ✊ this one is heavier, do take care of yourself and dont read this is you’re personally in a bad place mentally, thnx! this was based of this request

Your head was pounding, heart thundering like horses in a field. It feels like you’re going to throw up and you’re so dizzy. “Hey, are you… okay?” What? Stelle looks at you from her place on the couch, Welt and Himeko setting down their cups to observe you silently.

Stelle reached out a hand to you but March gently pulls down her wrist, “You don’t look so good, do you wanna?” March motions to the love seat in the party car but all you feel is a wave of terror washing over you.

“I’m fine.” Gods above, you sound so vitriolic that it even singes your own ears and throat, spitting out like venom. March purses her lips and furrows her eyebrows, and for just a moment her eyes flash a saccharine red. Her beautiful eyes flit between suffocating red and crystalline blue as she watches your throat swallow down whatever hateful thoughts were trying to escape.

Visions flash through your melting brain as you stumble from the party car and into your bedroom. The door opens with a hiss, soothing whatever ails you long enough to jam your palm into the lock button. Constellations twinkled on your ceiling as your own eyesight dims like a dying star.

Seconds bleed into hours as your chest feels like an ever concaving weight is pressed upon you. At one point you had even taken off your clothing to curl into yourself. Someone motherly speaks into your head, cooing sardonically at your behavior, “I knew you’d never amount to anything. One minute exposure to a stellaron beyond Stelle and you’re a mess.”

“I’m not a mess.” A helpless mumble into the chasm of your brain. It registers in your ears as being spoken aloud, but even then it’s so soft, as if you were caressing the words. The voice speaks again but you cannot hear it, all words in and outside your head becoming a muddled mess until there’s a knocking on your door.

The knock comes again, a bit more frantic this time as the handle on your door is jiggled, “Reader?” It’s March, well at least it sounds like her, you don’t know who anyone is anymore. She manages to get through to you, her blue eyes a ruby red now. March (???) crosses the room to kneel beside you, the carpet whispering under her weight as she lays a hand on top of your shaking shoulders.

Every touch on your skin burns against you, feeling like dipping your cold toes in hot water too quickly. March watched you flinch from her touch as if she was made of acid, her red eyes now looking at you pityingly, “I’m,” She pauses for a breath, inhaling deeply. “I’m not who you need right now, I know March usually helps you when you are not feeling well.”

You give her a wobbling smile of defeat, “Hi Evernight.” The alternate version of your best friend in the entire world looks back at you sadly. A chaste kiss is pressed into your forehead when she speaks again, barely audible and raspy.

It takes you a second to understand what she says. Your puzzled look and somber eyes are a cue for her to repeat herself again, “I’m here now, you can let it all out.” And you do, tears streaming down your face in disgusting hiccups.

But she’s there, shushing you, rocking you back and forth on your carpet. She asks you about your past, what dreams you have for yourself in the future. Slowly but steadily you come back to how you were before your brain collapsed in on itself, but Evernight was there for every moment of it.

tags 🏷️

@sstarsilks

[laurawitchart]

Another #mayvian prompt. Still on the disability prompt but that's ok because there are a couple of defects that are avian exclusive in my au, such as perma-chirping.

(I tried to make this look like a panic attack. Did I do ok?)

Poor little creature. Losing your ability to speak so soon after gaining your freedom. On top of your body changing and breaking to the point where it doesn't even feel like your own. If only you had someone to help you through this.

(this takes place right after Chosen turns into an avian btw. Basically what's happening is that his bird voice are completely overriding his normal speech)

[alicewritingstories]

The art-based angst I promised, based on @kikker-oma's amazing art!

Kikker-Oma

"they dont care about you"

Sky stood slightly apart as the others read their letters, talking about what they were missing at home, comparing notes about loved ones. He tried not to feel the empty space that had been left in his hand after he'd handed over the last one. Nothing for him.

He knew it didn't mean anything, but it did.

He took a couple of steps away, running his fingertips over the soft cloth of his sailcloth, smelling the perfume woven into the fabric and remembering Zelda handing it to him. He could still see her smile, could still hear her voice and feel her hand in his, but at moments like this melancholy seeped out of his bones. He missed her desperately, more with every day that went by.

But at moments like this, he also wondered if Zelda loved him or if the Goddess Hylia loved her Chosen Hero.

He took a breath, once again focusing on the perfume and the softness of the cloth. She did love him as he loved her. She loved him as he loved her. They, themselves as they had always believed themselves to be, not the Goddess and her Chosen.

He took another deep breath, but as he turned to return to the others he saw Time also standing aside, reading a letter he guessed was from Malon.

Once again, he was aware of his own empty hand.

He ducked around a corner, intending to just take a moment to pull himself together. Nobody seemed to notice.

Something dark deep inside him wondered if they would notice if he never went back. If anyone would. If that was why, now that he was out of sight, none of those he loved on Skyloft had written to him.

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. There was a good reason for him to have had no letters from Zelda or even Groose. They had a lot to do with organizing the move to the Surface, after all, and for all he knew the postman hadn't even been to his era recently. There was no need to worry.

No need to think that now that he was out of sight he was also out of mind.

That now the Goddess had no need for her Chosen.

He scrubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. He had to stop thinking like that and get back to where the others were probably waiting.

He was sure they were waiting. Someone would be along to look for him soon. He shouldn't worry them.

He knew this was an overreaction to simply not receiving a letter. They didn't know how the postman travelled; perhaps he couldn't even go to Sky's era for some reason; he didn't know.

But he thought of the light in Wind's eyes as he read a letter from his sister and Four laughing ruefully over something his grandfather had said and he felt absolutely alone, in his corner out of the way where he had gone without anyone apparently noticing he'd left.

Perversely, he almost wanted to stay here and see if anyone did come to look for him. Just to silence the part of him that thought they wouldn't. That expected them to write him off as slow and lazy and leave him behind, no longer a burden on them.

After all, that had been Hyrule and Legend's first guess for why he hadn't caught up with the postman this morning: that his heart and lungs had gotten the best of him yet again and he'd been too slow. That he'd failed in his own self-appointed mission because he couldn't run.

He could. Not for as long as some and not even as fast as he could before, but he could.

But what did that matter when he could be the butt of a joke?

He knew they hadn't meant to be cruel, but it had been a tiny jab into something that always hurt somewhere deep inside him and he didn't think that had ever occurred to them. That maybe it would hurt him to have his poor stamina mocked like that. He'd brushed it off as he always did and he knew he couldn't expect anyone to notice something he made an effort to hide, but it was there.

Slowly, it bore down on him harder and harder.

No letters from home.

The doubt that Zelda truly loved him.

The fear that he would be forgotten as soon as he was out of sight.

Failure.

Too slow.

Too weak.

Too cowardly.

Mocking laughter.

Silence and solitude and…

The sob came out before he could stop it and he clapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. There was no reason to give even more of an impression that he was weak, that he couldn't even cope with just not receiving a letter.

Another sob, ripping out of him. He clenched his eyes shut and wrapped an arm around his waist, trying to steady himself. He couldn't break down like this. He couldn't break down just because he was alone and lonely and homesick and nobody had come to look for him and…

Again, he could hear laughter ringing in his ears. Weak and slow and broken and maybe better out of sight and out of mind and uncared for and…

"Sky? Sky!"

His eyes shot open as a hissed voice in his ear and a hand on his back broke into his whirling thoughts.

Legend leaned into his field of vision, eyes wide. "Hey, can you hear me?"

He took a shuddering breath, choking on more aching, wracking sobs, but managed a nod. Desperately, he tried to stop crying, but it somehow made it worse.

"Wow, OK, uh…" Legend actually sounded lost for a moment. "Look, please don't cry, I…" He started rubbing at Sky's back. "It's OK, I didn't get a letter either, I'm sure everything's fine, what's wrong?" His words tripped over themselves as he spoke.

Sky, meanwhile, was torn between being glad someone had come to check on him and wanting to die on the spot to escape his embarrassment.

Legend had evidently realized his audience wasn't really there and just started saying "It's OK" over and over, still rubbing circles on Sky's back.

"S-Sorry," managed Sky, hugging himself.

"What happened? You're really… shall I get Warriors?"

Sky shook his head, making the world spin disorientingly. Chills were running up and down his spine as if he had a fever. "Just… stay?"

Legend blinked, but caught his elbow as he staggered and helped him sit down, leaning on the wall behind him. He knelt next to him, still rubbing his back, as Sky finally managed to start to calm down, reassured by having someone with him who, even after that humiliating display, was still willing to stay with him and comfort him.

"What… happened?" asked Legend.

As Sky sat on the dusty ground, trying to keep his breathing steady and swallow the occasional hiccupping sobs and still the shivers, he didn't know how to answer that.

He hadn't got a letter from home.

That was all, and it had somehow hurled him into the kind of spiral he hadn't experienced for ages.

"I… don't know," he whispered.

Legend stared at him for a moment, then said, "Well… something must have happened. Did someone say something?"

Well, yes, but teasing from Hyrule and Legend was nothing especially new either. It hurt sometimes, but not enough for this.

Legend was still rubbing his back and he sighed, trying to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"I really… don't know."

Legend looked skeptical, but didn't press further. "Well, if you want to talk, I'm here anytime," he said. "For now, we should get back to the others as soon as you're feeling up to it. They're all still reading their mail, but as soon as that's done someone less inclined to take no for an answer will come looking."

"You think so?"

Legend blinked. "Well… Yeah, I think so. Why not? It's not like we'd just leave without you."

Sky chuckled, knowing it sounded a little hysterical. There was something surreal about that casual remark after everything. "Yeah… well… just give me a minute."

"OK. Do you still want me to stay?"

"Would you rather not?"

Legend shrugged.

"Please stay."

When his brother agreed easily and with no trace of regret, Sky relaxed a little, rubbing his eyes to try again to dry the tears. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"Also for coming to look for me. And listening."

Legend nodded again.

"It was… a silly thing to get so upset about."

That got a shrug. "That doesn't mean you weren't really upset."

"No, I… suppose not." Sky wiped his eyes one more time. "How obvious is it that I've been crying?"

Legend looked critically at him. "I might not notice normally," he said carefully, "But some of the others probably still will. Give it a moment longer."

"Do you really think they'll want to know what happened?"

"You've spent as long as I have with this lot. For a start, Wind will worry, the captain will want to know if there's a problem he should be aware of, and Wild will try to help without really knowing what the problem is."

Sky chuckled again. It sounded better this time and lifted a weight off his chest. "Thanks," he said again.

"Anytime. Ready? Not to rush you, but there wasn't that much mail."

Sky wiped his eyes and cheeks one more time. "Ready."

---

(AO3)

[californiapipsqueakin]

‘Oh god. Oh fuck’ you murmur under your breathe again and again as your body stands seized by dread.

The same dread that has been pooling in the pit of your stomach, slowly stagnating when your attempts as distraction succeed over the past month suddenly washes over you like a tsunami.

You sit on your bed, not even out of the blankets or a hair put up as your laptop screens blue glare burns into your eyes.

Semester grades-

There were A’s yes but that was the standard, that was the only option, there was a blank grade still to be given, a B+ but the worst of all, the course that has been haunting you- a high level philosophy elective- was a garish C.

The offensive letter seamed and did laps infront of your eyes. Without noticing your breathing got laboured blinks a bit more forceful- as if the next one would rectify what was on the screen even as it remained burned to the back of your eyes.

It was your penultimate semester, throughout this time you painfully made sure to keep a straight a profile - knowing that you don’t have the luxury of anything else. Endless days spent with your racing heart alone in the dorm bed, of ingratiating yourself to the teaching faculty of going to office hours.

With no familial advantage, connection or care, as Caleb studies far away at the DAA, you had no choice but to be beyond reproach.

And somewhere along the line somewhere slipped, you began experimenting with cigarettes in March and this semester you were high thrice a week.

And the same fear that scared you the most, to drown so deep and not even be aware of it, ambushed you. High level electives outside your major, unfamiliar subjects, substance as coping mechanisms - a puff an every time an overexcited voice called their mom and complained to them.

You didn’t have the luxury to complain and so you shut your mind the only way you could immediately see.

——————

It was still the 30th of December as you sat in your bed unable to think, unable to move. The screen saver had kicked in as you blankly traced images of nebulae and the Milky Way.

This type of thinking was dangerous, it made you step a bit too back, retreat a bit to much, disregard not only the impact of one semesters three grades on your life, but your very existence.

Caleb found you like that, sitting in bed. You were both home for the holidays and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes now. After all you have bought all your weed from the monthly allowance he had sent you over from the DAA- his hard earned money.

You wanted to scream.

‘Breakfast pips?’, he asked casually with the same smiley eyes as if the world was not ending, you resented him then. You hum, jaw clenched, not trusting yourself to speak without bursting into tears.

You were not the victim of an arbitrary educational system because you chose to get high and so you can’t cry about it now- it just doesn’t make any sense. Maybe if you bury yourself deep enough in your blankets you will wake up to your hunters induction ceremony where grades and college would be a thing of the past and you would have a steady job to support yourself and prove your worth.

Josephine would surely ask for your grades, that’s what she does like clockwork every semester. You try to call her every weekend out of filial obligation you don’t really feel and the first thing to the last thing on call if how you must ace your studies.

You stay in bed, refusing to get up and face anything, as usual refusing to take accountability.

​A/n: I know how to write about my misery because I am it but I dunno how Caleb would console us mostly cause he’s not there and my grief is too vast and all encompassing to allow a silver of imaginary comfort- possibly a part 2?