#but mostly not okay mentally

[wereh0gz]

Been thinking abt corrupted au again. I'm unwell

Anyways. I think corrupted!Sonic would struggle with dissociation. He has a lot of moments where he feels unreal, untethered from his body. Watching but not feeling

Some of Sonic's idle dialogue in Frontiers implies he may have been dissociating a bit while he was working to save his friends. "I know I'm moving... I can't feel it" and "I'm so cold now... numb" specifically come to mind, though you could also attribute these to physical exhaustion. I like to think it's a bit of both

But corrupted!Sonic continues to have these episodes even after everything that happened in the Starfall Islands has passed, mostly due to what remains of the cyber corruption in him

He's completely silent in that state (not like he talks much to begin with after getting amnesia, but he's noticeably quieter) and mostly unresponsive. Sometimes he'll stay right where he is, spaced out. Other times he'll run off, his body basically going on autopilot and wandering to places that were once familiar. It might even happen while he's doing something else, and he won't remember having done it when he comes to

Aside from the more severe dissociative episodes though, he also feels generally disconnected from his body. It feels unfamiliar now, and he often finds himself trying to make himself smaller because that's how he remembers being. But having grown and changed so much makes that hard. Not even curling up into a ball feels the same now. He has to get used to being a teenager all over again

[notbecauseofvictories]

I'm rewatching leverage out of nostalgia and some other emotion I haven't figured out yet, and I do think there's a story in "Maggie Ford Collins deals with having the most unhinged ex in her suburban book group, learns to hotwire a car, and gets her groove back, not in that particular order."

[aroaceleovaldez]

chewing on big 3 kids being capable of absolutely devastating natural disasters and apocalypse-level outbursts of power.

Percy who creates hurricanes complete with lightning that pummel titans and flooding and whirlpools that can trap god-powered crocodile kaijus. Earthquakes that erupt volcanoes. Hazel who sunk an entire small island entirely on her own with her final breath, against giants and a primordial goddess of the earth.

If Nico dramatically wilts plants and cracks the ground when he's mildly stressed, and disintegrates enemies down to their skeletons with a single touch or rips their souls out of their still-living bodies, and can command armies of the undead, what happens if he tries to cause destruction? Even outside of total zombie apocalypse or insta-killing a crowd, he's shown enough geokinesis to absolutely be capable of the same destruction Percy and Hazel can manifest.

What about Jason? He can control the winds and storms. There's no way he can't create the most destructive tornadoes with casual effort that he can never justify using for the collateral damage they'd cause. With a single thought he can rip up a town and launch the remnants 50 miles out. (Jason in the center of a Dead Man Walking tornado, vortexes responding to his movements like an avatar...)

And what can anyone do to combat it? How can you fight the wind lifting everything you know and love into the sky, or floods sweeping you away, or the ground giving way beneath you? The Big 3 kids are scary because they are forces of nature, and their whims are the only thing preventing you from witnessing that at any given moment.

[chimaeray]

Mouthwashing thoughts assembled from my Discord messages with a friend while we both go apeshit about it

Spoilers this is your only warning because I will be getting RIGHT into it. Things are not organized super well it's all braindump baby. CW for game topics including sexual assault, torture, and general misery.

Jimmy's so certain everyone is or should be like him that he can't imagine anyone actually caring about other people. From Anya asking for any help and care whatsoever being a nuisance to him, to Swansea keeping watch at the utility room just trying to keep Daisuke safe and put him in that cryopod once everyone else was too far gone. This is unfathomable to Jimmy, who's first instinct upon learning they were all getting terminated was to belittle and shame everyone as a way to guilt Curly further. Of course including Curly himself, who was struggling (kind of having a midlife crisis) and putting on airs to keep everyone else calm and okay for this one last job. Jimmy is so sure of himself being able to fix things like Curly does, and figuring out how they can "both be heroes in this," that he makes a dying man eat his own flesh and then freezes him under the idea that this is GOOD and RIGHT. He doesn't care about the misery and pain Curly is in at this point. At first he seemed happy Curly was helpless and incapable. He seems to take satisfaction in volunteering to force-feed those painkillers, after he ridicules Anya first. He's so sure Curly should be grateful and thank him for all of this. He can't take responsibility even when he kills himself, all he does is reassure himself he did the best he could at every moment and fixed it all in the end. Curly will be miserable for the rest of the life he may or may not have. Jimmy got his, alright. Curly was feeling unsatisfied with his life, so isn't this better now? Curly says he doesn't want his life to feel like something he has to escape, but now his own mutilated body is the prison. While he watches and hears everyone else die, and he can't even try to fix it anymore. He missed his chance to do anything about Jimmy before it was too late. And when Jimmy says he can still fix this, make sure they survive and will be okay, Curly wheezes and laughs at him.

My take on Curly is that he did his best by and large, but he valued his relationship with Jimmy and trying to salvage it more than he should have especially when Anya told him she was raped. He is still a man in a place of power that didn't want to rock the boat too much, and that ended up enabling someone that would rather implode the whole fucking thing. After everything Anya still chose to die with him. She loved him(in the very least platonic but I know romantic was teased), still felt safest with him, and wanted to keep them both safe from Jimmy. So she locked them into a room together to die, quietly, away from him. Even if that made Curly witness as she overdosed and died. She had the gun hidden away with them, out of Jimmy's reach. Until Jimmy manipulates Daisuke into crawling up that vent, sentencing a young and hopeful man to a miserably painful death. Jimmy doesn't even respect Anya's authority and capability as the nurse (at all) enough to have listened when she said the mouthwash would be too sugary to use as an antiseptic. He still pours it onto Daisuke's wounds, because his short-sighted selfishness used up the entirety of the last bottle of antiseptic they had to poison Swansea.

(Daisuke is literally in an osha training video that's like "If you know it's dangerous don't do it! Even if a supervisor says so!")

By the end Jimmy only feels guilty for some of it. He knows he sentenced them all to a miserable death but he only feels guilty for Daisuke, and then Curly to a point. He doesn't really regret Swansea that much, it seems mostly like he's bothered he got caught (Swansea even tries leveling with him, to some extent--somewhere between a confessional and a final reach to see if he can be reached at all). He only worries about what having to deal with a baby might mean for him, but he doesn't give a shit about Anya at all. She's a non-issue in his mind, just some pathetic and poor girl that couldn't even get through schooling. He's only worried about the fact that a baby means he'd have to be responsible for it, and whatever discipline may come from the last remains of the company for sexually assaulting the nurse. Her suffering matters so little to him, if at all even considering he smears her entirely out of his perception while looking for antiseptic.

He's such an unreliable asshole he can't even confront himself, he has to use Curly and Polle as his conscience in his hallucinations.

The party scene is so intense. What a way to illustrate how off the deep end he is and it feels deserved. It's not just used to show he's insane and trying to cope by pretending they're all alive. It's everything he wanted. Praise, adoration, respect. Part of what I think is very interesting is he refuses to admit they're fully gone, but he doesn't necessarily deny their appearances. He isn't fixing them to look normal in his hallucinations, it's still their dead bodies he's propped up in chairs around him. Like a really weird coping mechanism to assure himself that its fine, he did it, he did a good job. Now he just needs to eat and celebrate with everyone! They just need to eat a little bit of Curly, get through one more meal, it'll be okay!

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[tetzoro]

hiya friendz !! happy monday lovelies !! i’m buzzing in to wish you all the best week ahead and giving you guys big big hugs !! i will be on a semi hiatus for a little while. see you soon 🤍 take care of yourselves & each other !

[lesbiangiratina]

I won at buying doujinshi today

So cute explodes

[jankwritten]

Jasico Bingo Challenge: Boyfriend Sweater

When Nico walks into the dining pavilion wearing a golden yellow sweater, Percy does a double-take. Actually, it’s a triple-take: first, he thought it was a new Apollo kid, then he realized it was Nico, then he realized it was Nico. Wearing a color. 

Is the world ending again? Was there something really wrong with the milk in his cereal? What in the everloving Hades was going on?! 

Nico sits down at table 13, unbothered as ever, and pulls the sleeves of the hoodie up. It’s way too big on him, like Big Bird shed and some poor fucker decided Nico di Angelo needed the empty muppet skin in his wardrobe. 

(Is it Nico? Maybe some changeling creature kidnapped their resident son of Hades and has decided to take his place? Maybe Percy needs to go over there and test him out, y’know, knick him with some iron or something to see if he burns. If it’s an imposter, though, they’re doing a piss-poor job. Is it an intentionally bad job? Gods, it’s barely eight AM on a Tuesday, does he seriously have to go save Nico from somewhere and kill a monster wearing his face? That does not sound like his ideal Tuesday, if he’s really real. He’ll totally do it, but he won’t like it, and maybe he should start planning how to take out a creature like-) 

“I can see the mountain you’re building,” Annabeth says, popping Percy’s strangely detailed daydream of hunting down and killing a weird, half-Nico, half-demon gremlin creature. He blinks the image out of his eyes and looks up at her, her hip resting against the edge of his table. 

She looks amused. He squints. “Nico’s been bodysnatched.” 

“Mm, no,” she says easily, with a shake of her head. “Nico’s wearing a jacket.” 

“A yellow jacket.” Percy looks at the son of Hades again. He just- can’t wrap his head around it. He hasn’t seen Nico willingly wear a color since the guy was ten years old. “A yellow jacket that’s, like, twice his size.” 

“It’s a molehill, seaweed brain. A jacket’s just a jacket.” 

“But it’s yellow.” 

“What was your nightmare about?” 

Percy physically recoils at the non sequitur, tilting back in his seat incredulously. His- what? His nightmare? What does his nightmare have to do with a jacket, anyway, that’s got nothing to do with this. 

He folds his arms on the table and makes a face. “That’s unrelated.” 

Annabeth’s mouth raise at the corners, her eyes watching him like an all-knowing hawk. An owl, three-sixty vision and nothing but questions, who, who? 

She pets through his hair and pushes her weight back up. As she draws her hand back, she taps his cheek, then his chin, and says, “just leave him alone, then.” 

Percy watches her walk back to her table. When she sits, he buries his face in his arms and groans. 

“Jason has also been bodysnatched,” Percy hisses to Annabeth during pottery class. 

“What makes you say that.” She throws her lump of clay at the pedestal in front of her and gives Percy the same look she gave him this morning. 

Percy decides to ignore that look, because that is the look of reason and he is far beyond that now. “He was wearing this black jacket with, like, skulls in hourglasses and weird skeleton butterflies and shit during Latin.” 

“He is related to Thalia, you know,” Annabeth hums. She wets her hands as the plate before her starts to spin. “Maybe he’s going through the family goth phase.” 

Had she not just leaned in to start forming something magical and incredible out of clay, Percy would slouch over Annabeth’s shoulders and plead with her to at least consider that something weird is going on. Maybe it’s not bodysnatchers or changelings, okay, but something is strange! Jason Grace does not just decide to wear emo shit! Jason Grace once had a panic attack because the Aphrodite Cabin stole a pair of his jeans and cut them into shorts! This is a man who has a stricter sense of style than Nico, who, fucking hell, don’t even get Percy started on that. The yellow jacket has remained on all day and it’s haunting him. 

Annabeth dips her thumbs into the top of her clay and does not respond. 

Percy slumps down into the stool beside hers and huffs, more for himself than anything. 

Change is okay. Change is fine. But change like this, with no reason, is the opposite of fine. Change like this is a low-blow stink bomb in an otherwise perfect Capture the Flag game, impossible to get out of his clothes and his skin and his hair. Change like this is how people die. 

He claws his hands up into his hair and listens to the steady whir of the pottery wheel, the sound of wet clay being molded and shaped in different ways. There’s a lull of conversation from other campers in the class, kids from all different cabins, because to them this is any other day. 

Maybe this should be any other day to him, too. No, not maybe. It should be. This should be a regular Tuesday, full of regular classes with his regular friends who are ordinary in whatever ways they can be, but instead, Percy’s brain has to go and mix up everything, make everything feel- out of control. 

HIs next exhale shakes too hard for his liking. His shoulders are too tense. 

Beside him, Annabeth keeps calmly shaping her pot. She dips her hands into the water every so often, probably executing some flawless plan of action she drafted the night before. She’s not always delicate with her hands, with art like this - Percy knows that’s something she’s self conscious about. She never thinks she can be good at finer things. 

That’s normal. That’s normal for her. Ordinary, to think that Annabeth Chase would tackle arts and crafts in the same way she would a war strategy, devising the perfect approach for a flawless result. Executing it flawlessly. 

She pinches too hard pulling up the walls of the pot. It crumples, then swings off the wheel entirely with the force of it’s motion, splattering wetly across Percy’s arms and the other campers at the bench. 

Percy watches Annabeth glare at her failed creation. She sticks her hands in the dirty water to scrub the clay off, wipes her hands off on her shirt, and pulls on Percy’s sleeve. 

“I hate pottery,” she mutters as they rise together. 

Percy grins. “I think it knows that,” he teases, and follows as she stomps toward the exit. 

When the answer slaps Percy in the face, it feels more like a gut punch in the way it makes him breathless and off-balance. 

“You’re…huh?” 

Annabeth clicks her tongue. “You two couldn’t think of a better way to do this?” she gestures between Nico and Jason, standing awkwardly side by side as if they don’t know what to do with themselves. 

They’re still wearing the wrong jackets. Each other’s jackets. 

Percy makes a face, then realizes that might not be the best response to his two friends telling him their dating, so he tries to make a different face. 

The world’s not ending. They’re just…together. Sharing jackets, like couples do. 

“We didn’t want to make it a big deal,” Jason says. He keeps glancing at Nico and chewing on the inside of his lip. Nico, with the golden sleeves of apparently-Jason’s-jacket pulled over his hands once more, looks stubborn. Like he’s ready to fight about something. 

Percy wipes his sweaty hands off on his shirt and gestures, though he’s not sure at what. “But Nico’s wearing a color?” 

He feels more than sees Annabeth’s disapproving glare at the side of his head. Jason draws himself up, then seems to falter. His head cocks to the side and he shakes his head. 

“What?” 

“That’s a big deal,” Percy reiterates. “Nico doesn’t wear colors.” 

“Nico is standing right here, wearing a color,” Nico grumbles. He shoves his hands into the pocket of the sweatshirt and gives Percy a glare that is far more familiar than literally anything else happening right now. “I’m allowed to wear whatever I want to wear, for the record.” 

“But you don’t!” 

“Well I do now. If you have a fucking problem with it-” 

“I never said I had a problem with it,” Percy snaps back, immediately on the defensive. “I was fucking worried about you, you little shit, I thought something was wrong. I thought- I don’t know what I thought! I thought you two were swapped with some other versions of yourself, I thought you’d been- I don’t know- abducted by aliens, or fairies, or something!” He throws his hands up in the air, then drops them back onto his head, staring sort of at the middle point between the two of them. “You can’t do that shit and not expect- I mean, because, come on, guys, you’re you, you two fucking freak out if someone so much as touches your clothes. What were we supposed to think?” 

The hearth crackles. It’s too pleasant a sound for the sick Percy feels. 

Annabeth takes his hand, at least, and squeezes. His face burns with the shame of yelling like this, over this, it just feels so fucking stupid all of a sudden. He feels so stupid. Annabeth tried to tell him it was nothing, and he let it all get away with him, he let that nasty part of his brain win and win and win, and now he’s taking his losses out on them. 

“I’m happy for you two,” he makes himself say, when no one else speaks. “I think I just also need therapy.” 

Finally, Annabeth snorts. It’s a noise Percy knows, one he can ground himself with, same as her palm hot in his, her weight tilting into his side as her head bonks into his chin. 

The stress he’d held bundled up in his spine and his shoulders and his stomach all day releases in an instant. He slouches back in against her and laughs against the top of her head. 

“Jesus Christ,” Nico mutters, when Percy can’t stop himself, dissolving into a fit of hysterics over his own bullshit. “This is why I said we should just tell them. He’s laughing at us.” 

“I think he’s laughing at himself,” Jason says. He sounds uncertain. 

Percy hugs Annabeth tight, and laughs himself hoarse. 

EXTRA 

Nico stares at himself in Jason’s mirror, with the sweater hanging halfway down his thighs, sleeves hanging off his hands, the peak of his collarbone through the freaking collar. He narrows his gaze into a glare. 

“I look like a toddler,” he says derisively. 

Jason, still getting dressed himself, laughs. When he appears in the mirror behind Nico, looking far more proportional in Nico’s sweatshirt (which is frankly fucking unfair), his grin softens into a smile that’s- something. Sweet. 

Nico twitches his nose.  

“I look like I’m six years old,” he says, grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt and yanking down. “Why are we doing this.” 

“‘Cause it’s silly,” Jason says. He presses a kiss against the side of Nico’s head and hugs him loosely from behind. “You don’t look like a baby, either. You just look your age.” 

Nico looks down at himself. Maybe there’s a point there, a point to be made about how he dresses for practicality, dresses to blend in, but never to express himself. Maybe there’s a point to be made about how his discomfort isn’t really for how he feels about this, but how he thinks others will feel about it. 

He tugs at the hem again, and looks back up. Jason’s eyes in the mirror are bright, as if taking in the sight of Nico in his hoodie like this is something to savor. 

Nico likes when Jason looks at him like that. He likes how it feels to be looked at like he’s attractive. He likes how it feels to be wanted. 

“I guess,” Nico concedes, leaning further back into Jason’s chest. Immediately, Jason’s stance is more solid, sturdy, holding them both up as easy as breathing. He holds Nico like it’s a promise that he’ll never let go. 

He looks at the pair of them in the mirror, a cohesive unit rather than two separate halves. Jason in black is definitely something Nico wants to see more of, especially with the way Nico’s clothes fit snug over him, just a little tight at the biceps and chest. He looks good, not that he doesn’t look good otherwise. Different. 

With Nico his contrast in yellow…maybe it isn’t so bad. Maybe he likes being the counterbalance, even. 

Jason squeezes him again. Those damn eyes in the mirror are making Nico too warm, like his stomach is full of hot jell-o. 

“Okay, fine, let’s do this,” he huffs. The difference in his tone must be audible, though, because Jason perks up and grins, his eyebrows up, face aglow. Nico can’t look at him for too long. It’s still strange knowing he can make someone feel like that. He doesn’t know what to do when Jason turns the full puppy-love thing on. “And stop looking at me like that, you’re going to give me cavities.” 

“Okay,” Jason says in a voice identical to his expression. 

Nico grabs his hand and squeezes it twice. 

Jason squeezes back, so tight it aches. Nico’s heart swells with bright affection. 

Alright. Maybe yellow isn’t so bad, actually. 

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

Girls r having experiences in the mind that r impossible to communicate to other people

[jils-things]

by the lighthouse.

dividers

[uncanny-tranny]

I'm by no means recovered fully, but it genuinely feels so... freeing and exalting to be excited to eat, to look forward to a meal you're making. I can feel it changing my brain chemistry 💛

[dailykugisaki]

Day 347 | id in alt

Kugisaki hasn't been around Gojo enough to gaf about him LMAO.

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[daz4i]

grumbling grumpily bc i unfortunately have to admit that i am indeed getting better >:( like i actually feel excitement again for example. smh. i look forward to going out and being with people??? i am way more agreeable to trying new things and i let myself approach them with an open mind so i often end up enjoying them??? this isn't me this isn't my heart .

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Silly TMA X MECS fanfic where Jon and Jonny look basically the same and are switched and the Mecs automatically know that some shit happened to Jonny because he isn't in the ship and still there was no repports of mass violence and only of Jonny asking random questions and are worried about him (even more when the found Jon because he is definitivally not Jonny, no eye shadow, no alcohool close and he tried to stop a bar fight? "Ew who is this nerd?" mutters Gunpowder Tim) but the Archieve Crew just looks at Jonny and decides Jon finally went murderhobo insane for at least a whole ass week until Martin is just too distressed over Jon having a totally different tea taste now that they have to consider that maybe this really is a different guy.

[mushtoons]

I'm sending you mental hugs rn.

and im sending some right fucking back man, ur going through it and i hope u feel better soon dysphoria is no joke 🫂