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modernsainthood · 19 days

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youtube

SENSUIPILLED Visualizer Loop MV ♱ feat. [𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙨𝙮𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙨] on vocals. ⚠️ TW: Eyestrain ⚠️

This is the visualizer for our NEW single SENSUIPILLED which is out now on Spotify, iTunes & all other platforms~

E n j o y! ♡

【 ☆ ko-fi | ɪɢ | ᴛɪᴋᴛᴏᴋ | ʏᴏᴜᴛᴜʙᴇ | ♫ spotify ☆ 】

#Youtube #new music #music #indie #electropop #d&b #drum & bass #sister psychosis #oc art #artists on tumblr #neoncore #cybercore #illustration #2d animation #modern sainthood #virtual band #serial experiments lain #um jammer lammy #tw: eyestrain

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kenobihater · 2 months

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just read the interview with jake lloyd's mother, lisa lloyd, about his experiences with schizophrenia since being in the phantom menace. i'm glad to hear that he's finally getting help and is reportedly improving, but i can't help but feel absolutely furious about the fact that he was jailed for TEN MONTHS for traffic violations and resisting arrest while in a psychotic episode. the cops wouldn't give him his meds, and denied him hospitalization because "the beds were full". ten fucking months of that. my god.

#jake lloyd #anakin skywalker #the phantom menace #tpm #star wars #posting this both bc it's important as a sw fan but ALSO bc the stigma against psychotic ppl is so absolutely horrendous. i'm sick of it #i was gonna go to bed but i found this in my drafts from earlier today and realized i hadn't posted it yet #also the fact that he was so heavily impacted by his younger sister's death is absolutely heartbreaking. i'm truly rooting for him at this #point. i understand his pain to a degree as someone with bipolar. psychosis is a heavy heavy burden

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crumbleclub · 11 months

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Thoughts for your consideration: a Michael who's so unused to being treated like a person that he has no idea at all how to respond to people being kind or comforting or even just. Acknowledging that he has thoughts and feelings?

Ik this sounds like an angsty concept but it's intended to be the start of things that are happy for him. Like he's given the chance to have positive interactions with someone (ghosts? henry? does he manage to secure a standard human friend somehow? fuckin helpy?) and yea he short circuits in the short term but in the long term he's way better for it and kind of learns from experience how he can express his own feelings and things which allows him to feel less isolated

#imagine how inherently isolating his whole situation is. like even if he was emotionally stable #(which he's definitely not when i write him)#he is chasing down his serial killer dad and trying to release the trapped souls of kids stuck in animatronics #including his sister who went missing when he was just a kid and the brother he himself killed #like. who the fuck do you even talk to about that.#i don't think the afton family would've been religious but maybe he just traumadumps to a catholic priest in a confessional #since they're not supposed to disclose anything and he wouldn't have to ever see them again #unlike a therapist who would immediately assume he's experiencing psychosis #anyway this was originally gonna be abt scooped mike and the inherent dehumanization of rotting alive but #with his background i can see him being like this even as a kid honestly #fnaf #mike's stuff #michael afton #writing process blogging

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revelisms · 9 months

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Excerpt: What You Needed

After years, Jinx and Vi are reunited—and starting to make amends.

From ‘heron blue,’ an AU where Vi and Jinx reconnect under different terms. Slow, rocky relationship rebuilding, found family messiness, and political schemings. cw: abandonment issues, dissociation, psychosis, dysfunctional family dynamics Full story on AO3

Her painted fingers clink out a red-capped glass bottle, and hold it stiffly across from her. "You...still like the cherry ones, right?"

Vi takes it from her, slowly, criss-crossed on the blankets across from her. "You bet," she says softly. Her mouth makes a strange twist: not quite a smile. She turns the bottle in her hand. "Still like blueberry?"

Jinx screws off the cap of her own, a glittering spin off the stones. "Uh, yeah—best of the bestest."

The lights hum around them, a pleasant, blitzy static. Jinx draws up her knees, curls her arms around them, and sips. For a long, horrible moment, there's nothing for them to say. Nothing she can get out: the questions stuck in her stomach, in her heart, like lead on her tongue.

Why did you leave me—?

"When...when did you build this?" Vi's looking at the decorations all around them, the paint and the color and glow, with a quiet awe.

Jinx wonders, for a moment, if she means the alcove or the club itself. They'd kept the bones, but rebuilt it all, straight from the ground up. No more smelly storeroom—too many ghosts; all boarded up now. They'd cleaned and sanded and revarnished the floors; painted the rooms, retiled the bathrooms; brought in that beautiful imported glass to bubble around the walls, a new addition to the spaces wholly their own on the third floor, with the same old staff kitchen and storage closets and divots in the walls.

Jinx shrugs, bobbing her knee. "Oh, I dunno—years ago."

Vi's smiling, now. She looks down at the bottle in her hands: twists off the cap. "I...I missed this, y'know. All your creations."

It lights up something in Jinx's heart, like a little lamp tuned to life. "I—I never stopped, really," she says, a flash of her teeth. "Painted up my room all pretty—oh—I just got this new color in from that big guy in the third district." She props closer, with a brightening grin. "It's, like, the prettiest blue—gonna put it on Whambo. He's gonna be a nail bomb. And I might use it for some details, on Fritz—he's a smoke flare, mostly, but he can double as a firecracker launcher—cool, right? I've been trying to get the combustion ratio right, for ages, but the thing keeps fizzlin' out too early—that old doc's tried to give me equations, but ugh—anyway. Work in progress, Fritz."

And then she's telling her about Jabberwock the ray gun, that she'd engraved with the emblem of a little seahorse—and about the Zing-Dusters she'd built: the respirators they used in the air dispensaries, that she was making a new model of—and the water filtration systems they were going to pilot in the rotted hovels of the Sump, once they got the right treated metals in.

She tells her about Tullo the mechanic, a giant of a man, with hair to his knees and tattoos gaudy as a pirate's, who she gets her imports from. Tullo, who Sevika got in a fight with the other day, after he'd called her arm just for show—and Sevika was a big old ogre, just as awful as ever: she ate blood sausage and grits for breakfast—yeuch!

She's rambling, on and on: the words pouring out of her: a runoff of shaky-laughed, tense-shouldered babbling.

There's so much she doesn't say.

She doesn't tell her about Little Man. She doesn't tell her about the voices in her head, or Mylo or Claggor, or her stuffed rabbit nailed to the wall, or how she spent years and years trying to carve herself in the chasm she'd left behind, not knowing why she wasn't enough, good enough, worth enough to bring her back; or how Silco would find her beating her hands bloody in the old arcade, or how he never laughed, not really, and never, ever cried, except when he talked about Vander, and then he nearly did both; or how, sometimes, when Sevika laid her arm around her, it almost, almost felt like hers—and she does not tell her about how Powder is dead and gone and drowned, drowned in a well, drowned by Jinx's own hands, and Jinx—Jinx is strong, now.

The voices ring through her ears: a pitching, endless drone.

It's too quiet, again.

Jinx swallows, fidgeting. She lifts her eyes from the roof. Vi is just looking at her, looking and frowning, with that burning sort of sadness Jinx hates. She's looking at her, and not saying a word—and for all Jinx doesn't tell her any of that, she is terrified that in some small, terrible way, she knows it, all the same.

"You're quiet," Jinx mumbles. She rips her eyes down, again.

Vi reaches over, wraps her hand beneath her own. "I know—I know. I'm sorry, I'm just..." She huffs out a breath, turning away, staring at the bustle of the streets. "I'm just thinking." She's nervous: her hands heavy and fiddling, so warm over Jinx's own. "It's—it's just..." Vi clears her throat. "It's been so long, I've been—I've been so worried about you."

Jinx scrapes her nail over her thumb. Those words hit something unpleasant inside her—worried about you—plunge a sickly chill in her stomach: a blazing knot of self-disgust, of rage; of sharp, splintered old hurt.

The words trapped in her throat bubble out, before she can stop them. "Why..." They stick like grease on her teeth. "Why did you leave me?"

She knows they cut at her sister. She knows they sting.

Part of her wants them to.

Vi looks down. She weathers her thumb over Jinx's own. "I—I tried to get back to you, I promise." The same as she'd said, before. "I did—but I—"

"You left me." It sounds so pitiful coming out of Jinx's mouth, and she despises herself for it. She yanks her hand out from Vi's own: tucks it under her knee. "I didn't—I didn't understand—"

"I know," Vi hushes. "I know, I—there hasn't been a day I haven't regretted it. Not a single one, from every damned night I was in that cell—but I—I just—" Her shoulders sink. She's looking away, forcing air through her teeth. "I needed time."

Something blitzes up Jinx's neck: leaves her head twitching.

You're not ready!

She scowls slow at the tiles. "Away from me."

"That's not—"

I told you to stay away!

Jinx scrapes her nails against the stones. "Things changed, when you left." Air shudders against her teeth. She fights the heat broiling in her throat: blinks it quick out of her eyes. "I—I changed," she whispers.

Vi's hands fist between her knees. Something in her turns venomous: like it did in Silco, when someone said something that got under his skin; when he let his words turn harsh and biting, looming over his constituents, a shadow of a monster with red-tipped wings.

"If I'd known you were here," Vi is saying, a low firmness in the words—and Jinx knows where they're going, before she even speaks them; feels her shoulders draw firm as stone. "If I could have—I would have done anything to find you; I would have got you out of here, as soon as I—"

A numbness washes through Jinx's veins.

"Got me out," she repeats.

She feels so far away from herself. Floating.

She's seeing Little Man, with his hair still short and his arms still gangly: his hand shackled around her wrist, hard enough to crush her, pleading to a girl who didn't exist—Powder, come with me, please—we've found a place in the sewers, away from all of this, where you'll be safe—whatever he's done, I'll make sure he never gets to you, again—

"I don't need you to save me," Jinx bites out. Tension gnaws through her fingers: turns them white-knuckled on her knee.

Mylo's wrong, Powder. You're stronger than you think.

You're strong, now—just like you were always meant to be.

She wrenches her head from the words, the memories: Vi's fist colliding with her cheek, Silco's thumb sweeping against it. "I never needed you to save me, I—I needed—"

Because you're a jinx! Mylo was right!

Jinx is perfect.

"Someone else," Vi mutters. Jinx falters, ice in her lungs. Stares wide-eyed at her. Vi is frowning at the green glow beyond them, rasping her thumb against the wrapping over her knuckles. She takes in a hard, gritty breath, and eases it out. "I know," she continues. "I left you, and he—" The look in her eyes turns so strange: bitter, scathing. "He showed up." It's like the words are pulling out her teeth. Her thumb presses hard into her knuckles. "And maybe, that's—that's what you needed."

Jinx tries to swallow. Heat burns and burns in her throat. "You want me to hate him," she tests, prickling with spite. "You don't want me to be here." Flashes of color outside the edges of her vision: eyes and faces and howling words. "You don't like him—you don't like any of them—well, none of you all liked me, either—"

"That's not true—"

Ghosts are picking at her ears and clawing at her arms and too loud.

"—because I—I was just some—some loose screw, screw-up, always screwing things up—shut up!" She wrenches her head into her hands, squeezes it tight, tight between her nails, to keep her skull from splitting open. "Shut up, shut up!"

Vi's looking at her like she's broken, a wind-up toy with all the cogs gone: like something she doesn't know how to fix. Carefully, her bandaged hand lays over her knee. "That's not true, and you know it," she says gravely. The words crack. "We loved you, Powder. Vander, and Mylo, and Claggor—"

"Don't." Jinx seethes it out, feral: wrenches herself away from Vi's burning hand. "Stop." She breathes long, cavernous, heaving. "Stop, don't—I don't want to think about them—I don't want to think about them, I don't—"

Vi closes her eyes, clenches her jaw. "Okay."

"I don't," Jinx hisses again. There's too much color in her eyes, too much noise in her head.

Vi's holding her. She doesn't remember when she started holding her.

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giantchasm · 6 months

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Random Kirby Headcanon #6

Zan Partizanne, despite not being biologically related to her father, also has a delusion disorder and can sometimes believe things that are not true. One in particular she comes back to a lot is that she and her sisters aren’t actually alive and/or weren’t people before Hyness rescued them, them actually just being weapons he brought to life and imbued with false memories. This seems to be representative of both the fact that she feels like Hyness alone gave her a purpose and that she’d strongly prefer not to acknowledge her prior life.

Initially, Hyness and the others were very distressed by these claims, but nowadays they just kind of leave her be. The thought seems to bring her comfort, and so as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone there’s no real point in trying to argue with her when she experiences these things.

#kirby #zan partizanne #sack’s kirbyverse #mage sisters sunday continues #don’t quote me on this but i feel like i read somewhere that the belief zan has here was the actual mage sisters backstory at one point #but then it was shelved as an idea for ‘being too sad.’#i like what we ultimately got but i still think it’s a fun idea and so here’s a way to still play around with it a little #considering how… UH… flawed to say the least hyness is for a character who’s supposed to have psychosis i figured it’d be nice to like #give a character who WASN’T an exaggerated rambling ableist stereotype who sacrificed his own children sinilar issues #in contrast or whatever #although i of course don’t have a delusion disorder myself so #take this with a grain of salt

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mori-sempai · 11 days

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Thinking about when my sister told me I should be careful of my husbands intentions because she had a dream that when we moved to Korea that we were going to get a Korean maid and that my husband was going to cheat and have a baby with her and I had to be like ok sweetie thank you and all but do you think me, a person with no job, is going to hire someone to clean my own home while I sit there and watch them

She also thought that me moving to Korea was going to be what helped her adopt a Korean a baby and I was like I don’t know how to tell you this but you still live with our parents and you make 9 dollars an hour you’re not adopting a baby from Korea sweetie I’m so sorry

#I’m pretty sure my sister has some sorry of religious psychosis or something cause she’s wild #she thinks there are kids trapped underground in tunnels that are being assaulted and sacrificed to the immuninati elite #idk man

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shouts-into-the-void · 10 months

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Really wishing that every time I went to therapy the therapist didn't just focus on my family problems and actually did literally anything about the visual/auditory hallucinations and inability to leave my house

#because my realtionship with my sister is so much more important than the possible schizo-effective disorder #mental health #therapy #hallucinations #psychosis

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deepseacityunderground · 1 year

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my sister when im weird paranoid trauma ritual having mentally ill and not slightly dishevelled quirky tiktok girl mentally ill