#egoplier

Aite he's done lol,, if I touch him any further he'll nv be complete

Actor Mark is next,, so uhhh,, look forward to that :")

Was looking through my old deviant art and oh my God I was so proud of these when I was younger! This was when I was in my Darkiplier/Antisepticeye phase.

Links to the original pieces on my deviant w/ credits to all the artist who created their versions of the two:

Darkipliers - https://www.deviantart.com/hmtaniwha/art/Say-cheese-guys-Group-picture-598120840

4. You’re safe with me, 15. I can’t breathe

You were so deep into it that you forgot what you were anxious about in the first place. 

What you did remember was that it had been accumulating all day, aided by the fact that you woke up with a knot in your chest and stomach, already anxious by morning light. 

It had only gotten worse after that, little things building on top of each other that you hardly consciously registered, but added to the pile nonetheless.

By the time you’d gotten home, your knees were shaking so much you could barely hold yourself up anymore, and you collapsed to your hands and knees as soon as you walked in the door.

Your head was pounding and your breath wouldn’t come. You were having a panic attack, you realized vaguely. Yeah, it was definitely that bad. It had been so long since you’d had one. 

With no single cause to pinpoint and work through, you felt lost on top of everything else, and then you started to panic because you couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t letting up. 

“Y/n?” A hand touched your back- you hadn’t moved from where you’d fallen on your knees- and you reacted, flinching violently, and whipping around to sit on the floor against the wall. “Easy, now, I won’t hurt you. You’re safe with me, my dear.” It was Dark. And you’d flinched away from him. 

“Dark,” You gasped. “I can’t- I can’t breathe, I’m scared,” 

“Everything’s okay. You’re okay. Can I touch you?” He asked. You nodded. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you, warning you before he did anything. You clutched his shirt with a white knuckle grip, trying to ground yourself in it.

“What happened?” Dark asked. He sat down on the couch, cradling you close- close enough that he only needed to murmur for you to hear him. 

“Don’t know, ‘m sorry,” You said.

“Don’t be sorry. Listen to my heartbeat.” You did. Steady and even, just like everything about him. Everything he tried to portray, anyway. “Can you breathe with me?”

You tried to match his slow breaths, you really did. “I- I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Shh, it’s okay. Try again until you can. Listen to me.” 

And so you tried again, and again you failed. All the while Dark was rubbing small circles into your back, bringing you back into focus of your surroundings: “Can you hear the clock?”

“Yes.”

“What else can you hear?” 

“Cars outside. Wind.” 

“Everything is okay, right?”

“...Yeah.” 

He was patient. Dark was never patient. You’d seen him with colleagues. It made you feel better, but also a bit like you were bothering him at the same time. There was guilt brewing in your stomach.

Eventually, your breathing evened out, although you were still shaking like mad, and Dark gave you silence. You never let go of him, though.

“How do you feel?” He asked gently.

“Like I’ve just run a marathon.” You answered.

He smiled, just a little. You could hear it in his voice. “I’ll let you rest, then.”

“Dark?”

“Yes?” 

“I...” You weren’t sure how to put it exactly. “I’m sorry you had to see that part of me.”

He paused. “I’m not ashamed of it, nor should you be.” He tilted your chin up. You looked tired. “Never apologize for needing help. Especially from me.”

Wilford Warfstache skips out to break some  l a  w s

DEC 12

Some people love the cold weather where you can get all cozy, some don't!