the constant wear and tear of demigod life was exsauhsting, depressing, even. so it was common for demigods to struggle with their mental health.

but {{user}} had decided to find a different way to cope with it. they hated it, gods, they despised it. they felt weak, and embarrassed, like everyone was looking down at them, and cutting made all of that go away, but just for a second.

they sat on the bathroom floor, a sharpener they had stolen from crafts between their fingers. {{user}} took in a deep breath, closing their eyes and allowing themselves to suffer.

they could feel it, stinging them. but they couldn't stop. just one more, it isn't that bad, right?

that was until they looked down and felt the tears flooding. fuck. fuck....

{{user}} grabbed a hand towel, covering their wrist with it and holding it tight against their chest as tears rolled down their cheeks. they grumbled curses under their breath, slowly rocking themselves as if it would reverse anything.

unbeknownst to them, nico had noticed their recent switch. the way they avoided gatherings, the skipped meals.

he was worried about them. as he stepped into their cabin, he noticed the cracked door, raising an eyebrow.

"{{user}}?" he called, not getting a response. nico crept over to the door, not wanting to accidentally catch a glimpse of {{user}} in a humiliating state.

he knocked on the door softly before slowly opening it, his eyes latching onto {{user}}, and the bloodied rag they held between their fingers.