#implied dissociation

[rauhallinen-hauki]

the wrong man in the right place, and the me that is and isn't there

something weird with the main idea being "Alyx meets Adrian in the inter-dimensional void thru vortessence after being fatally wounded by a hunter in ep 2"

[soyboysauce]

Whenever I spend time consuming mental health media, I always come out of it having internalized the (negative) mental state of the person in it (I rarely watch/listen to/read any media where the narrator has good mental health. I don't know why it's just not what is recommended/available/interesting to me). I had to drop I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy because I went to a buffet after binging the book for 2 days and had a really hard time trying to enjoy myself because of Jennette's relationship with food (it didn't help that I had/have a not-so-great body image and Mandarin puts the calories of each food item under the name).

idk. I'm just so done with not being able to do anything without feeling bad afterwards. Is this really gonna be the rest of my life? Just never feeling real or like myself? Becoming the people I have glimpsed into the minds of because their feelings and realities are vocalized and clear and right in front of me unlike my own? yeah.

also it's night time ish right now and everything just feels worse at night.

[arovaricious]

Well. Fenris is definitely on board with this development lmao

[kaddyssammlung]

Heartstopper (Netflix Season 3)

[vaultedvagabond]

I wonder if its because shes an atheist and he killed god but if I am correct Wit/Jasnah is the most explicit confirmation of main character premarital sex Brandon has written

[raisans-art]

Brothers starter is so messed up because even in the scenerio that Emmet gets to be human again, hes not been human for at least a decade. Can he even go back to living like that? Hes legally dead, he never finished school or made human connections outside of Ingo and even then the connection between a pokemon and human is far different from two humans. He doesnt really have a reason to try being human again apart from giving ingo back his twin, not even a reason for himself.

You can never go home again.

[therian-and-nonhuman-polls]

Therians, what level of differentiation/dissociation (not sure if it's the right word, please correct me if I'm wrong) with your theriotype do you have? Meaning that your "cat self", for example, is more playful, or energetic than your "regular self".

I see this much more often within therian community than within otherkin, so I'm interested. Also feel free to rephrase the question if my wording is off.

- 0% (I am my theriotype fully and thoroughly, no differentiation)

- 0%—25%

- 25%—50%

- 50%—75%

- 75%—100% (there is a "human me" and an "animal me")

- not a therian

[m3lting0ffth3b0nez]

i doesn't matter how clearly i speak or try to convey my thoughts and emotions it just never clicks with anyone else. i swear to fucking god im gonna have to spend the rest of my life frantically trying to explain my thought process to everyone around me

[thecultoflove]

𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦

𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵

[stymecoulli]

i watched an angst tiktok, like, ONCE

something something leo thinks he has died when he went to the prison dimension and he’s living thinking he is in the afterlife and his brothers and the world around him is not a reality. his bros naturally don’t take this lightly.

(based on when leo says “took you guys long enough” when his brothers rescue him. he didn’t think they were rescuing him; mikey was NOT powerful enough, there was no way leo was saved. so he just. thinks they’re unreal because he didn’t expect them to come. he thinks hes being pulled into his limbo his afterlife AFTER HE HAS DIED. i do not remember who made this idea on tiktok but it ROTS in my BRAIN /pos)

reblog greatly appreciated ❤️

tws in tags (stay safe)

[hoglinz]

exile selfie ! !

[howlsofbloodhounds]

This shit made me cry 😭. A few lines made me think of Killer, particularly Stage 1.

“He feels like a stranger. A pretender in someone else’s clothes.” For Stage 1 it could literally mean clothes, he’d never dress himself in this way or manner. For Stage 2, itd be the body itself; as if he slipped on Sans’ face and started pretending to be him. Or as if he was shoved into this body and it fought him the entire way.

“I don’t know who I am..I have lived lives I do not remember.”

Stage 2, detached from most experiences that shaped him as he is now and unable to comprehend himself as having once been Sans, the life he lives now so different that it cannot be true. He must be something else entirely. Unable to tell If he’s real or not, if he’s human or monster or neither or both. All the roles he had to play for survival or others entertainment and convenience.

Stage 1 feeling connected to his life and identity as Sans, but thanks to all the Resets and all the something news, uncertainty if it’s truly real or just a dream he dreamt up one day to convince himself that he was loved and whole once. That he was happy once. Unsure if he is Sans or not, wanting to be. Doesn’t feel like he deserves to be.

“Kill me. Don’t make me do it again. You understand, don’t you? What it’s like to no longer belong to yourself?” The way Stage 1 asked both Swap and Color to kill him before.

[ani-and-the-corries-au]

Hey people, this post is a little different than my usual ones.

I kinda wanted to post something on the 4th/5th but time got away from me.

I have a lot of snippets and segments of ideas from stories in this au that I wrote up.

This is... Sort of the extended segment of my little "Fox and Anakin's first meeting" snippet.

There will probably be more to follow this but for now, I hope you enjoy this little chunk of story.

Autumn

••••••

"We put republic resources into your upkeep, and the bare minimum we expect in return is that you do the jobs that you were made for." The Senate guard fumed.

Anakin pushed himself back into the corner behind the trio of Clones who had all moved in front of him. The familiar mantra of 'I'm not here, there's nothing to see.' ran through his head even as he watched the exchange.

"The Chancellor has decided to cut a third of your funding until he believes that the guard has earned it back CC-1010." The man snapped.

"We need that funding to get supplies for the Men Sir." The clone said, and it almost seemed pleading even through the vocoder. And Anakin felt the surge of concern from the unfamiliar Clone Commander. 

"We're already struggling to get enough supplies after the last cut."

The other Man only snorted derisively. But Anakin was more interested by the surprise blooming in the force from the troopers around him in response to the Commander’s words.

"Perhaps you should put in more work into being worth your upkeep then." He said shortly.

And that didn't seem fair. It seemed to Anakin like the Corries did plenty of work, honestly he thought that maybe the Senators and other guards should be a little more grateful to them.

"Also, you will gather together every useless Clone that failed to stop the attack and bring them to us for proper disciplinary action.” The guard commander sneered, expression so much like that of an especially smug Master that Anakin couldn't help but lean away.

"If it were up to me I'd have them all sent for reconditioning, but unfortunately it's not.". He seemed to be enjoying this interaction a little too much.

Anakin wasn't sure what reconditioning was, but the fear that had soaked the force around them at the words spoke for itself. Anakin wasn't sure what proper disciplinary action entailed either. But the overly pleased look on the other guards face and the fear in the air brought to mind images of Electro whips and beatings, water and food restrictions, abandoning people to the freezing nights or biting sandstorms for even minor provocations.

He quickly pushed those thoughts away, this was Coruscant, not the slave yards. Things worked differently here. It was fine. Even if the words felt suspiciously like a lie even in his own head.

"Don't Talk back to me, Clone." The man snarled, snapping Anakin out of his thoughts.

He must have missed part of the conversation but he came back in time to see the man grabbing hold of the front of the commander's armor. "You do what the republic tells you, you got that? we say send half the guard to the Lower levels, you send the guard." He leaned in closer, expression angry. 

"We tell you to send your useless men back to Kamino to be Reconditioned, you send those men."

He reached in and ripped off the Clone commander's helmet. Anakin couldn't help but notice that the Clone Commander hadn't moved a muscle since the other man had grabbed his armor, he was frozen staring straight forward, short curly hair tumbling into blank eyes as the helmet came off and hit the ground with force.

"You do, as we say." The man snarled, leaning in again. "We could order you to execute your own soldiers and you'd have no choice but to obey." 

He reached up and grabbed the silent man's face. "We own you, Every pound of duplicated flesh that comes from Kamino is ours, and we will do what we wish with it, do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

In the back of his head Anakin had the feeling that he shouldn't be here, that he was seeing something that an outsider shouldn't see. But the thoughts were dulled by the Man's words echoing in his head. 

'We own you.' He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to look at the picture that was slowly coming together in his head.

The guards almost never spoke unless addressed. They were entirely ignored unless someone needed them or took some kind of issue with them. The entire Senate seemed to treat the guard, the clones as lesser than them. He thought back to the interaction he and Padme had crashed, how the two aids had been talking about them. He'd thought that there was something wrong with how the guards were treated in the Senate, but did it go deeper than that.

'we own you.' 

Slavery was illegal in the republic, they had rules against it, Qui-Gon had told him so. 

Maybe the man meant something else, but Anakin was having trouble seeing what else 'we own you' could mean.

Anakin pressed himself further against the wall, he didn't hear whatever else the Man said over the screaming in his ears, he couldn't tell if it was his own thoughts or the force pressing in around him. He wanted to be wrong, he had to be, he couldn't. It couldn't.

"..Ad..? Are you ok..?" A hand brushed his shoulder and he started, looking up into the helmeted face of one of the Clones.

From further away he heard snippets of voices.

"Wait, what do you mean he heard everything?"

"Fox, he's just a kid, he's not going to do anything."

He tried to peer around 'Twelve-Sixteen' to see what was going on, he could still feel distressed in the air, but it had a desolate edge to it now.

'Twelve-Sixteen' Knelt down in front of him.

"Hey, it's ok Ad'ika. Don't worry about any of that ok?"

He was trying to sound cheery, but Anakin could feel the nerves underneath the false cheer. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead of agreement or a confirmation of understanding, the words that spilled out were the ones echoing around his head.

"..They own you..?"

The words came out far louder than he'd ment them, and suddenly all four clones were looking at him. The Commander, who had put his helmet back on, sighed Audibly.

"The Coruscant guard and Grand Army of the republic are both republic property." The man said he sounded tired, like he didn't want to have this conversation.

"But… they, they can't." Anakin stammered, pushing to his feet. "You're People." 

The clone who'd been talking to the commander shook his head. "Maybe to you Ad'ika, but not to most Nat borns."

"They bought us off of the Kaminoans." 'Twelve-Sixteen' told him, shrugging. "If they hadn't brought us, we wouldn't exist."

That did not make Anakin feel better, in fact somehow that was worse. 

"But… they're not - this isn't the outer rim." Anakin stammered. The one thing in the way of his discovery was the fact that Qui-gon had said that Slavery wasn't legal in the Republic, but… that had been ten years ago… had that changed?

The guard commander sighed, if Anakin focused he could feel the storm of emotions around him.

"No, it's not, Welcome to Coruscant." He said flatly. 

"Now, you really shouldn't be here, go back to your Jedi." 

The Commander turned and stormed off, but he didn't seem angry, just tired, so so Tired.

Anakin felt frozen, even as his mind was spinning with thoughts, unfamiliar pieces clipping together into a picture that was all too familiar even as the setting was the furthest thing from.

"Ad'ika…?"

"I.." Anakin stepped away, his hands balling into fists. "...I… They…"

The words weren't coming, but he could feel the worry and resigned acceptance suffusing the air around them.

When he eventually did find words, they weren't addressing the fact that his new friends weren't what he'd thought, maybe weren't even Free like he'd thought.

"...I… can you… I need to talk to Padme… do.. Do you know where I can find her…?"

[h-didanart]

…. So Nexus right?

I haven’t watched the episodes but I’ve heard about how he basically tortured Ruin and Moon by digging through their memories and stuff.

Which

Kinda

Might’ve

Given me an idea

It’s not canon to the au, of course but

But like

I can’t just not do something with it

So

Trigger warnings: Dissociation, panic attacks, flashbacks (though they don’t show heavy violence), implied torture, implied SA (? It might not be super obvious to those unfamiliar with the main au//fic)

Extra warnings: I got feelings when writing this, so, uh, you’re probably going to cry. As always, Bloodmoon is an unreliable narrator, even more so in the type of mental state they’re at here. Read safely

———

And You Drop Us Like That In A Nexus Of Torment

———

They stared at the ground, claws shaking as they tried to lift themselves up. Their breathing was ragged and their vision was blurry, barely able to make out the patch of grass they had been dropped at.

They winced at the ache in their joints, but managed to sit up. Their arms moved to hug themselves after a second.

They were alive. They survived. They… where were they?

They looked around, tensing up at the darkness that surrounded them.

It was dark. It was so dark they can’t see—faint light.

Faint light behind them. There was a source of light. They had to focus on that.

They turned to the light, a blurry mess of yellow and white standing in the distance.

They had to get closer.

They had to get away.

They moved to stand, legs giving out at first before they tried again.

Once they were standing they moved to approach the light source, trying to ignore the way their injuries burned with every move— they don’t have injuries, they do, they don’t, then why can they feel the gashes in their legs? They aren’t real, but they are there, they’re not there, they never left, they did, they can feel him, he isn’t here, they’re gonna die, they won’t, they’re gonna die, they—

Tripped and fell.

They sat up, tears falling to the ground.

They can’t think about that.

They had to keep walking.

They had to focus.

They had to make it home.

They stood up again, now face to face with what seemed like a house.

They knew that house.

They stared at the house and its bright lights. There were people inside.

Maybe they could help. At least they would be better than I’ve always been curious about what really happened in October- Don’t -Let’s see what you have to hide~- Please

A hand went up to their mouth to muffle the sob that escaped.

Keep it together.

They took a breath and walked up to the door.

Slowly they raised a hand to knock, but hesitated. They rubbed harshly at their eyes, suddenly self conscious of what they undoubtedly looked like.

They took a shaky breath and finally knocked.

It wasn’t a very loud knock. They steadied themselves and knocked again.

They let their arm fall back down, other arm wrapping around themselves tightly. They stared at the door, anxiously waiting for whomever would open it.

After a while, they got their answer. A yellow figure with striped pants stood there, probably confused if not scared. Not like there was much to be scared of.

They tried to look at his face, their gaze immediately dropping to the floor the second one of his rays came into view.

It was muffled but they heard him say their name. It kinda sounded like their name, at least.

They took a breath and their voice box crackled on. But nothing came out. They tried again, getting straight to the point.

“Is Solar home?”

All of them stood there in silence for some time.

Sun moved to the side.

The door did not close.

They stared at him- as much of him as they could see at the moment. He gestured to the area inside.

They glanced inside, then back at Sun.

They watched him hesitate before reaching out a hand towards them. They looked at it, for a long time. And slowly their own hand went up to his.

He guided them into the house.

A pressure let up in their chest.

The inside was brighter than the outside, and the smell of cat fur and sweet foods put them at ease.

They found themselves sitting at a couch a moment later. They heard as Sun left, his footsteps followed by a different set of footsteps.

Their footsteps echo through the la—daycare He’s leaving them to die

They brought their knees to their chest, burying their face in them.

They’re on the flo— against a play structure They can’t move He’s laughi— dead silent

They clutched at their hood.

They just want it to stop

A burning sensation started bubbling in their chest, their breathing only accelerated with it.

Not here. Not here.

They heard themselves whine as they ground their teeth together in a ditch effort to avoid the inevitable.

For the love of God not here.

They felt a wet cloth land in their head.

Their claws immediately reached up at it, their legs pushing them against the couch’s corner.

Someone sat close to them.

They stared for a second or two.

Tears started pouring out of their eyes before they even pounced on him. He held them gently, rubbing circles on their back.

They still couldn’t let themselves break down however, they had to warn him. But the only thing that could come out of their voice box was sobbing, and they wouldn’t be able to stop once they started.

They held tighter onto him.

A feeling of weightlessness overtook them, only making them cling onto him more. And then a door closed.

They were in his room.

They looked up at him. Solar looked back at them.

They… supposed they could cry for a bit. He wouldn’t judge. He wouldn’t laugh.

They could do that then.

So they let the sobs escape, and they let themselves shake in his hold, and they let themselves be scared. And through it all he held them, and he cradled them, and he comforted them.

That’s all they needed at that moment.

[paingoes]

Destroyer - MK

(Masterlist)

they were doing some MK ultra shit to delta im ngl

(Content: medical whump, drugging, dissociation, living weapon whumpee, begging, needles, addiction implied)

Lights and colors. It was all dreamy in the void. How long had he been there? The question made no sense. He was always here. Always had been. Something milk white and slimy nuzzled up against his leg.

“Attention, Control. You’re drifting off again.” A voice cut through the noise. He hadn’t noticed the noise just until the voice had cut through it. What did it sound like? Water on rocks. A rainstorm heard from the inside of a tin chest. Mewling. Drool dripping. 

Something pricked at his forehead. He gasped.

“Tighten up.”

He nodded weakly. For a moment, he was back in the office. The faces surrounding him were blurry and tame. His body was nowhere, but his wrists were bound. A thin line of fire worked its way around his neck. Then the office was gone and so was he. Light and colors.

The sharp tip of a blade rose out of the water, held aloft by a hand whose flesh was slipping off of it. The skin debris dripped down into the lake. It floated there like broth that needed to be skimmed. Disgust rose up in his stomach. Had it been full, he thought it might empty itself. He’d have to have a body for that, though.

Pain replaced everything. He couldn’t tell the source of it. He couldn’t tell where it ended and began. 

Inside of you, something said. It’s inside. Get it out. 

He whimpered. From somewhere far away, someone sighed in disgust.

“Delta. One-oh-seven. Enough. Follow the rabbit.”

The instruction was only vaguely familiar. It was coming to him so slow this time. A sine wave hit him directly in the side of his head. It hurt. Abstract concepts soared over the pit he’d carved out for himself. He was helplessly lost. He was scared. Not how he usually was. It was otherworldly.

A snake bit his ankle. It winded and winded.

“Simon?” He called weakly.

Pain, sharp and hot.

“Dr.Leach isn’t here. And you are not to call him that.” 

He felt the firm grip on his face, but couldn’t see it. His vision was dislocated somehow. He did not know what he was seeing instead. It wasn’t nothing. 

The dragon had two tails. He made out the shape on its side.

“Yellow,” he managed, “Yellow, four-sided, decimal. Cobra. Holly.”

“Designation?”

“MK. Omega. Ow. Fucking ow.” 

He felt a hand come down hard against his cheek. He’d just been slapped. Even in his drugged state, he knew that that wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t procedure. He knew Dr.Martino hated him. Really hated him. It didn’t come as a shock everytime he remembered — but the slap had. He made a soft, choked noise. The drugs made the pain feel more intense; they didn’t numb it, like he hoped they would. Weren’t they supposed to?

“Again.”

Something electric and circuitous played against the flesh of his bound hand. The vision shifted.

“Threat level magenta,” he choked, “Seven. Spades. Diamondback. Juniper.”

“Juniper?”

“Pike,” he corrected. “Please make it stop.”

“You know better than to ask,” The doctor said. Something sharp. He couldn’t tell if it was a punishment for having begged or if it was just part of the procedure. They drew no distinction, expecting him to take either complacently. It burned against the inside of his skin.

“Again.”

========

When the drug finally wore off, he was shaking so badly that the chains binding his wrists rattled softly and continuously. He’d been bound up for too long, too tightly. His shoulders and knees ached from the pressure. All the spots on the body where the needle had jabbed him bled through the bandages. There was a dull and constant ache all throughout his body that heightened at each injection site. He tried desperately to subdue his crying, but the tears flowed freely and undisturbed. He couldn’t even roll his shoulder enough to wipe them.

Dr.Martino went about his business like he wasn’t even there. There was no reason for him to still be bound, to still be kept kneeling. The experiment was over. It had ended thirty minutes ago. He didn’t voice this, sure that if he did Martino would make a point to keep him there longer. He tried to readjust his position to relieve the tension. Nothing worked. He just wanted to sleep.

“That was pathetic,” Dr.Martino finally addressed him. Delta cringed. He still didn’t move to free him, which was all Delta could really focus on in the moment.

“Needless to say, I don’t think the Cytopline is a good match. We’ll run a few retrials with different dosages to be sure, but I’m not confident it’ll be to any greater effect.”

Delta tried not to cry again. He thought he meant today. He just needed a break before they started again, just a few minutes to get out of position. He wouldn’t be able to handle going under again.

“There’ll be a bit of a cooldown period before it becomes effective again. You might be inoperable the next few days,” the doctor clarified, much to his relief.

“I can write you a note, if you want.” 

========

Delta laid numbly on the floor of his bedroom, in the same position he’d been in for hours. The blanket was a tangled mess around him. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, just that it was well past when he was supposed to have risen. He drifted in and out of consciousness. There was a sudden banging at the door.

“You know you’re not allowed to quit, right?” Paris called from the other side of it. Delta closed his eyes. 

He was sure that Dr.Martino hadn’t told him on purpose. The unexplained absence would put Paris in a bad mood off the gate, make him totally unwilling to listen once Delta was forced to explain, and Paris was by no means obligated to comply in the first place. The excuse wouldn’t count for anything. He’d still be forced out into the field. He’d probably still be punished just for trying to get out of it. It was such an underhanded move. Delta resented whenever the doctor called him sneaky; if anything, he had learned it from him.

He braced himself up on one elbow, getting ready to open the door, when Paris opened it himself. Right. Not like it had a lock. Delta collapsed back. That was fine. He hated having anyone in his space, but he also didn’t think he’d be able to walk in a straight line all the way to the door.

 But Paris’s anger was always so visibly telegraphed that its absence was immediately obvious. If anything, he was annoyingly chipper. He had one hand pressed up against the top of the doorframe, leaning casually in the entrance. The end of a nicotine lollipop hung off to the side of his mouth. He let himself into the room.

Delta adjusted roughly, just barely pulling himself upright into a kneel. He was already on the floor, so that helped. His hair fell messily in his face. He reached one arm behind him, feeling around clumsily for the doctor’s note on the desk. He offered it up with one hand. 

Paris took it. He read it over slowly, trying to make out the nearly indecipherable doctor’s handwriting. Somehow he managed.

“Oh shit. Comedown?” Paris popped the candy out of his mouth.

“Yes, sir.” Delta stopped himself from rolling his eyes. It was technically true, but he would never call it that.

Paris winced in sympathy, giving Delta some indication of just how pathetic he must have looked. He glanced at the note again. His eyes hovered on the medication name.

“…Do you have any more?”

Delta pulled the pill bottle out from his desk drawer, tossing them over. He was glad to be rid of them. Paris caught them in one hand, letting the note drift back to the ground.

“Take oxitriptan,” he called over his shoulder. He slid the pills into his pants pocket and disappeared out the door. Delta collapsed back against the crumpled blanket. He wasn’t going to take anything. He was pretty content to just lay there. He pulled the blanket over his face, not sleeping, nor moving.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[loaffofbred]

joe?