#cw: panic attacks

[promptful]

★ WAKING UP FROM A NIGHTMARE DIALOGUE. ★

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cw/tw: Nightmares. Panic attacks. Violence/Threats of violence.

DIALOGUE:

1) “Hey, it’s just a dream. Wake up!”

2) “You’re all right.”

3) “What did you see?”

4) “Are you okay?”

5) “Nobody can hurt you while I’m around.”

6) “Hey, hey, hey. I’m here.”

7) “Trust me, I’ll be right here the whole time.”

8) “I promise you that whatever you saw was just a nightmare. It’s not real.”

9) “Listen to me, it wasn’t real!”

10) “Go back to sleep, darling.”

11) “What did you see?”

12) “What can I do for you?”

13) “How can I save you from something I can’t fight?”

14) “Dream of the sunshine and the stars.”

15) “They’re not going to hurt you again.”

16) “The dark won’t hurt you while I’m around.”

17) “I—I have a nightlight, would that work?”

18) “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to make this better. I don’t know how I can make you feel better. But, God, am I trying.”

19) “Sleep knowing that I am right beside you.”

20) “I know how to kill a man twenty different ways in ten seconds. You will go unharmed.”

21) “Count with me, one, two, three, four…”

22) “Inhale, exhale. Come on, sweetheart.”

23) “Rather than you being scared of the dark, I believe the dark is scared of you, pest.”

24) “Though I am… doubtful of sharing a bed. I will stay for you.”

25) “Follow my breathing.”

26) “Do you want to sleep?”

27) “Can I touch you?”

28) “Tell me what to do.”

29) “Come close and I will protect you.”

30) “Does this happen often?”

31) “Hey, hey, where are you?”

32) “Come back to me.”

33) “Deep breaths.”

34) “Did they do this to you? Did they cause your nightmares?”

35) “If you’re under the impression that anyone will get to you in the dark, you’d be mistaken.”

[xemylixa]

📓Do you feel like talking about another of your fanfiction ideas?

(Ask Game: Have an unwritten daydream concept for the cheap, cheap price of a cute book emoji!)

---

Kmicic and Oleńka's first steps forward, after the happy finale.

I do not buy for a nanosecond that everything's gonna be magically hunky-dory between them forever after. They're both kinda messed up, and haven't resolved everything yet, or know how to. But Oleńka has a spine made of adamantium, and Kmicic a heart of flaming gold; she knows her worth, and he wants to deserve her - not just to woo her but to live with himself every day. So they can work it out, because they want to. They make it to the start of PW somehow, after all. (And we never see them again bc i'm pretty sure HS kinda forgot.)

I have ideas about their wedding night - hesitant, fearful, clumsy, worshipful, embarrassed and so in love it hurts. About Kmicic trying his best to not be selfish (and failing, bc he's an idiot), her being apprehensive but appreciating it and being patient for him, and then finding a way to make it good for herself while he gapes in awe and adoration. And laughing a lot - like, a lot - at just how lucky two people can be on this earth.

I also have ideas about how sometimes things break down.

He gets stubbornly stuck on some minute thing she asks him to do, because he thinks it's no big deal, and haughtily laughs in her face about it - but finds himself consoling her as she sobs bitterly, because you don't hear me, you don't listen to me, you never have, from the minute we met, and now i feel like an empty space in my own house, and you promised you'll change and didn't, and what am i to do-

And it's everything he's feared she still feels about him, and he's horrified. His confession and absolution was one thing, but her bad memories still stare her in the face every day.

Also also, what happens when he misreads her in an intimate situation? There's a lot to misread - see above about being messed up. But he backs away on instinct from her vacant stare and frozen face, and she curls up and pants, trying to regain her senses, while he resists trying to touch her again and whisper-begs her to tell him what happened and what to do and how to help her... because he doesn't know, he doesn't know anything, and it's killing him.

By the time the storm passes (he's been sitting there quietly the whole time, waiting for her), they're holding hands.

He still probably orders to prepare him a bed in another room for the rest of the night.

"It's not your fault," she told him. He knows better by now.

[galactia]

Kaeya is actually remarkable skilled at helping someone calm down from a panic attack. Breath matching, little activities to even out breathing (for children), texture/sensation/voice grounding, etc.

Why? Because he's had panic attacks since he was boy, and he's come to know what used to and does help him. When he was a younger lad, Diluc was remarkably capable at helping him even his breathing out again.

[jaskiersvalley]

I loved your fic about witchers being afraid of moths so much. I suffer mottophobia as well and the thought that witchers feel the same is nice. So thank you!!!

Nonnie, I'm so pleased you liked that story! Phobias of any kind can be so stressful, I hope moths don't bother you all that often. While I don't have another phobia story for you, I have something a little different that I hope you enjoy.

CW: Panic attacks

It had taken Aiden several years before he broached the idea of wintering together. He knew Lambert went to Kaer Morhen each season and didn't want to be rude by inviting himself to the Wolves' den. But he also didn't want to make Lambert have to choose between seeing his family for the season and accompanying Aiden to the Caravan. Really, he need not have feared because as soon as he brought up the topic of winter, Lambert was jumping at the chance.

"Want to go to the Caravan?"

Just like that, they spent three years wintering with Cats. Lambert fit right in, helping with life on the road without a hitch, messing around, teaching tricks and learning new ones in equal measure. He cooked, did repairs and was as accepted into the Caravan as a stranger could be. It made Aiden wonder whether he missed the pack feel of his own family of Wolves.

"This year-" he said with some hesitance late one summer, "-why don't we go north? Kaer Morhen has probably missed its youngest Wolf."

If Lambert's expression was anything to go by, he didn't agree. "Does the Caravan not want me this year?"

"What?" Aiden scoffed at the notion. "No! I thought you knew they all dote on you. I just thought you might want to spend a season with your family. You met mine..." Not that he'd ever say it out loud but Aiden wanted to meet Lambert's family too, he didn't want to be a shameful secret.

The terse "fine" sounded anything but fine. However, Lambert refused to discuss it any further and, come winter, he led them north. By the time they got to the bottom of the mountain Lambert was tense, quiet and anything he said was cutting. It wasn't the Lambert Aiden knew at all. But he reasoned that maybe Lambert was nervous about bringing a Cat home. The higher up they got, the faster Lambert's heart beat. Perhaps it was the excitement of coming home after so long, at least that was what Aiden told himself. He figured once they were done with the dangerous path up to Kaer Morhen then Lambert would relax. He was wrong.

They made it into the warmth of the halls and what followed was the most uncomfortable introduction Aiden had ever endured. Lambert stopped, arms crossed over his chest as he regarded the other three.

"This is Aiden. You break him, I break your necks." With that, Lambert stomped out, bristling and grumbling under his breath. Hastily, Aiden followed after a quick wave that the three Witchers looking suitably non-plussed by it all.

What was strange was that Lambert didn't settle. He was a fountain of bitter remarks, sarcastic quips and brash aggression. Aiden couldn't make heads or tails of it. The others didn't react, didn't seem like they even wanted to try and calm the situation. In the end Aiden couldn't stand by anymore and cornered Eskel, demanding answers.

"What do you mean?" The thing was, Eskel genuinely seemed confused. "That's just Lambert for you. You've known him for years now, surely you're used to it."

But Aiden wasn't. He hadn't seen Lambert like that before, so on edge. "No," he replied in the end. "This isn't how I know him. His heart rate's high, he's callous, spikey, lashing out. That's not the Lambert I know."

The look Eskel gave him was one of strange reproach. "The mutagens didn't fully take with him, his heart's always been faster than a normal Witcher's. As for the rest, I don't know what swamp water you drink to block it out but that's Lambert in a nutshell."

It wasn't. Aiden knew Lambert, spent years listening to his steady heartbeat, relishing when they fell in sync most nights. He'd seen the kindness and patience Lambert had out on the Path and at the Caravan. There was no mocking for getting footwork wrong, no calling the other person an idiot with a scoff. Nor had Aiden ever seen Lambert pace before, a restless tracing of a path between window and door of the bedroom. The growled "don't touch me" sounded full of threat, so much like a dog trying to prove he could really hurt an opponent in an effort to stave off an actual fight. Seeing Lambert like that hurt and Aiden didn't know what had provoked the change.

Things got worse when they were making repairs to Kaer Morhen, trying to undo all the damage the sacking had done. With the parts they inhabited secure and warm, Vesemir directed their work to the dungeons, salvaging what they could. Smoke stained books and scrolls along with bottles that contained the dregs of potions were pulled from partially collapsed rooms. Lambert was exceptionally acerbic, sniping at everyone including Aiden. It was all ignored until he snapped at Vesemir, "so what's the plan here, old man? Going to open up the torture chambers again to get your rocks off?"

"Another word from you and you'll be running the Killer twice before each meal," Vesemir growled, grabbing another thick book covered in ash and rock debris.

Throwing his hands up, Lambert stormed off, muttering about how he'd rather run the Killer night and day than suffer this idiocy. Nobody seemed to care that his breath had hitched and heartrate was rocketing higher. Well, Aiden cared. Seeing as none of the others looked interested in following Lambert, he took it upon himself.

"Best to leave him," Eskel called after him. "He'll probably destroy a few training dummies in a fit of rage and then calm. Ignoring him leads to the fewest injuries for all."

Not that Aiden cared. He followed the sour scent that Lambert had been coated in all winter, maybe even before that. True to Eskel's prediction, he was in the training yard but he wasn't decimating dummies. Instead, Lambert was staring blankly off into the distance, muscles locked into a tense hunch.

"Lamb?"

His name seemed to jerk Lambert out of whatever thoughts he'd gotten lost in. Whirling, he rounded on Aiden with a snarl. Not rising to it, Aiden held a arm open and stepped closer, inviting Lambert into a cuddle. His heart broke a little when Lambert reared away, spitting with rage. "Don't touch me!"

Truthfully, Aiden didn't have to, he could see the solid lines of muscles, coiled tight. Everything about Lambert screamed to be left alone but he couldn't, not when there was something so underlyingly wrong. If Aiden didn't know any better, he'd have said that anyone else behaving like Lambert was having a silent panic attack. Maybe Aiden didn't know any better. He'd rarely heard Lambert speak of Kaer Morhen or the others, and when it did it wasn't with fondness. Around them was destruction, every stone imbued with memories of a hard life. Aiden knew that the instructors were harsh, often punishing Lambert with a cane or deprivation as he grew up. Vesemir had been one of those men and Lambert had to face his tormentor on a daily basis. They'd been digging up the dungeon where the trials had been administered, pulling what they could on how to recreate the them. Each crumbling wall was another layer of memories of the sacking, of a life Lambert hated but had no idea how to leave behind. When the misery was the only thing he knew, the only steady thing in his life, it was easier to cling to it rather than embrace the terror of the unknow.

Keeping his distance, Aiden nodded. "It's okay." It wasn't but he had no idea what else to say. They were going to have to get through winter, it was too late to head down the mountain. But as soon as it was safe, Aiden was whisking Lambert away from it. He wasn't letting him face the traumas of his past again and again. It wasn't healthy to rip open those wounds, to come face to face with living memories each time he saw Vesemir and Kaer Morhen.

When Aiden stepped in again, Lambert didn't scuttle away. Instead, he was stiff as a board in Aiden's arms, quivering with pent up emotions. Slowly, Aiden rubbed his back, tried to urge him to relax into his hold. Ever so gradually Lambert did, letting Aiden take a fair chunk of his weight as the shaking got more pronounced. Without a word, Aiden held him, gave him the quiet and the space to finally fall apart. It made him wonder whether, in years gone by, Lambert would allow himself to break apart each night in the privacy of his room. Now, with Aiden there, had he been trying to hold it all together, no space safe enough to let his emotions out? Shuddering at the thought, Aiden held Lambert tighter. Come next year, they were going to spend winter with the Caravan again. Never again was Lambert going to have to face the haunting wraiths of his past. Not if Aiden could help it.

[silvermoongirl10swfics]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Warnings for mentions of PTSD, nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks and character deaths.

After being rescued from the Techno Union, Echo has to adjust to a lot of things. But the hardest for him is accepting that Fives, Tup and Dogma are dead, leaving his heart broken. He also realises that he cannot call himself a reg, not after what the Techno Union had done to him. He's not the same person he was before.

Enter Crosshair and Tech, who are determined to help their new brother in whichever way they can. They haven't known Echo for very long, but they want to help and they want Echo to realise that it doesn't matter what he looks like, the Techno Union haven't changed who he is. He is still a reg.

(Snippets set at different points in season 7 of Clone Wars and the Bad Batch series.)

Notes:

Echo's PTSD, nightmares, flashbacks and panic attacks are mostly mentioned and influenced, as I didn't want to trigger anyone or write it in such a way that it is wrong/offensive to anyone.

I'm not sure what I wanted to do with this fic, as I only had a vague idea, so I'm not totally happy with it. But I just wanted more Crosshair & Tech & Echo bonding as the Bad Batch series didn't focus on them as much as I wanted.

Some canon events have stayed the same, and some have been changed slightly, but order 66 does still happen, even though I don't focus too much on it.

(I will go back to my Force Sensitive Fox fic, but this fic just wanted to be written.)

[maiikawriter]

After listening to the Sasha Sloan song this is titled after, I couldn’t get angsty KakaRin out of my head, so here’s an ANBU-era Kakashi drabble. Please beware this has dark themes and, I guess, spoilers if you haven’t seen/read Naruto all the way through.

Dancing with your Ghost

.

.

.

It’s the nightmare again.

Kakashi should be used to it by now. It happens almost every night. Rin’s wide brown eyes flashing with chidori’s hot spark, the crimson blood pouring from her lips, the whisper of his name - such vivid and frequent images in his mind. Somehow, her last moments in this world still feel real every time he wakes. It’s been almost two years since that day, but no matter how many times his mind re-enacts this, taking her life comes as painful as that first time.

What’s more painful is what comes after.

As Kakashi sits up in a cold sweat, catching his breath from the pure terror of it, the current reality rises to the surface. For a moment, he was looking into her eyes. Rin endured a second of pain in his psyche, but at least there she’d existed. Here in this cold, dark house in the hidden leaf village too big for Kakashi alone, she’s gone. There is no Rin Nohara. And just as that reality settles in - that she is nothing more than a ghost haunting his memories - the reality that it’s because of him that she’s gone crashes on top of him, smothering him with its weight until he can’t breathe.

He doesn’t sleep again.

He washes away imaginary blood, sharpens weapons, reads, and prepares meals for the week in the early hours leading up to his next mission - all futile efforts of distraction. Their futility lies in the fact that every act reminds him of the girl he killed, her face so fresh in his mind. Following that nightmare, memories of Rin can be activated by the most minuscule things. From the shade of purple vegetables so similar to clan markings he’ll never see on blushing cheeks again to the first-aid pack conjuring memories of a certain gift - once a token of his accomplishment, now a reminder of the responsibility and title he doesn’t feel he deserves. Maybe this time, on this mission, he’ll meet his fate and follow her - follow them - to where he belongs.

With eyelids as heavy and weary as his heart, Kakashi sets out, mission after mission, following sleepless night after sleepless night. Somehow, he fails to follow her path. He believes Rin’s ghost must be at his side in the day just as she is at night, always watching, just like he feels Obito is watching, too. There must be a reason they don’t let him join them and their sensei. Since it seems there’s something he’s meant to do, he’ll continue to fight for the village. He’ll fight to honor his teammates’ memories and make them proud.

He fights, hoping Rin sees his warmest moments and forgives him all his coldest ones - especially the moment he hates most of all, the one which took her away from him.

[merlinbingo]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Baby I am right here by donttouchtheneednoggle Ship(s): Elyan/Gwaine/Percival Main Characters: Elyan, Gwaine, Percival Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Waking up after 1500 years of limbo is... not easy. But at least they don't have to do it alone.

[captain-grammar]

I keep having to explain to my mother that the trajectory for dealing with mental health issues does not always trend upwards.

I've been living with generalised anxiety and panic attacks since I was 16. While 15 years of lived experience does NOT make me an expert in the field of mental health, I do have first-hand knowledge that you have better periods in your life and some periods that are more of a struggled. I know my triggers, I know how my anxiety manifests and I know what to do now to get though some of the tougher times.

About 4 years ago, my anxiety was triggered by the stress of university and being in an environment that had triggered my anxiety previously when I was 17. It was recommended by my doctor that I take low dosage anti-depressants and they helped. I almost had to drop out of school because I literally could not leave the house and could not do my work but managed to get my shit together and fucking graduate with Merit. I could not have done that without the aid of SSRIs.

But they aren't always perfect and it's never a case of any one thing being the Holy Grail: one pill, one counsellor and "you're better forever"...

I'd been getting sloppy with remembering to take my medication during the course of the pandemic. Going back into lockdown in December, combined with my grandad dying and the funeral, not having been taking my meds... Well, it didn't go great. I'm back on my medication now and feel a LOT more like myself again but still recognise that I'm not 100% just yet BUT I WILL BE.

Even with medication, because of the incredible stress that we, as social beings, are being put under living with a pandemic that we have littler personal control over - a pandemic that also means we cannot socialise or access our support networks in the way that many of us are accustomed to - it is creating a mental health crisis here in the UK and, most likely, globally. Even medicated, even though previously handling things well, individuals are seeing struggles.

The thing is, my mother (who has previously been on anti-depressants and, personally, had a bad experience with them) is using her own bad experience from 20 years ago combined with myself and one of her work colleagues struggling with their own mental health as a reason NOT to try medication herself. "Pills don't work or why are you still finding it tough?"

Because recovery is not linear. Because these times are unprecedented and we don't know how to control it. Because, sometimes, even entirely healthy people have bad days and that's okay. That doesn't mean things aren't working.

I understand that medication and pills don't work for everybody. But medicine has moved on a LOT in 20 years. I just wish she'd understand that there are peaks and troughs in the recovery of everyone and entertain the idea of seeking medical intervention if needed and not be scared. If she tries medication and it doesn't work, that's fine. But to rule it out outright just doesn't seem helpful when they could work wonders.