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#TW suicide attempt
support · 10 years
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Everything okay?
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone. There are many support services that are here to help. For 24/7 peer support and other resources, message KokoBot on Tumblr.
If you are in the United States, please try:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) The Trevor Project (LGBTQ youth, ages 13-24) National Eating Disorders Association (online chat, text) RAINN (National Sexual Assault Hotline)
If you are outside the United States, visit IASP to find resources for your country.
For more resources, please visit our Counseling & Prevention Resources page for a list of services that may be able to help.
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sad-leon · 4 months
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TW Suicide Attempt
we all talk about him portal chopping an arm off but,,, it would be so easy. so quick
KoFi || Patreon
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factual-fantasy · 7 months
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Okay so I did some research on Seam and realized that it would be a crime to not add him to my AU in someway where him and Jevil reconcile and they escape to the multiverse together and are free and they're best friends and- 😭😭😭
I had a dark story all thought up for this but half way through drawing I changed the story so this isn't really canon anymore?? Or it might be idk- my Deltarune AU is only a few days into development so its constantly changing <XDD Sorry-
If anyone's interested in the story I've got it below the Keep reading :}} (Fair warning, its rather dark and disturbing..)
TLDR: This story is super dark and interesting to me but it might not be canon XD
ANYWAYS! The story behind this was Jevil and Seam come from a very dark and corrupt AU. Ruled by an even darker and wicked King (Lancers dad). In this AU they were Kings royal Magician and Jester as per usual. They were best friends though and preformed these beautiful displays of magic together. Side by side, hand in hand. They were best friends for years and always dreamed of one day running away together and finding a safe place to live.
Eventually Jevil met someone. Someone who spoke of a way to leave this place. They spoke of walking through your own reflection. And if done right, one could leave their AU entirely.. Jevil believed them out of desperation and tried to tell Seam about it. Seam thought Jevil was losing his mind. Walking through your own reflection? That makes no sense..
King caught wind of them plotting to escape. And as punishment to both of them he commanded Seam to lock Jevil away using his own magic.
In Seams eyes, Jevil was his best friend. His brother, the only thing in this world that he could trust. But he was more afraid of what King would do to him or Jevil for disobeying him, then he was willing to stand up against him. So while believing Jevil was sick in the head and needed help, he acted out of cowardice and sealed Jevil away..
I'm thinking that eventually sometime later, Jevil is able to escape through his own reflection. A mirror. And either he goes back and sees Seam dressed in these beautiful robes and thinks "well the king must be treating him well. Guess I'll just leave him to reap the benefits of betraying me.. >:(" And leaves with a bitter heart. THAT, or he just left. Never going back to check on Seam or see if King was treating him well or not.
So the AU continues. With Jevil traveling from world to world, meeting new people and learning new things.. When eventually he's with the whole gang and they're all sitting in a restaurant or something.
When Jevil suddenly feels this overwhelming sense of doom. Something horrible is about to happen to Seam. He just knows it, its in his bones. Deep within his soul he can feel it. He knows- he needs to save him.
He falls back out of his chair into a mirror and heads straight for his old AU. Showing up just in time to stop Seam from.. well..
They end up talking. Turns out that after Jevil was imprisoned, Seam tried to sneak down to the basement and visit him. He wanted to apologize for imprisoning him and explain himself- but he was caught by King.
"I just wanted to see him!"
"For that I will take your eye."
"NO! Please don't take my eye!!"
"For talking back, I will take your voice too."
King took Seams eye and stitched his mouth shut. He could still talk but not very well. To make things worse, when Jevil escaped? Seam thought he had died. Why wouldn't he? His magical barrier was never broken and Jevil was gone. Surly he must have died somehow.. Meanwhile everyone else was under the impression that Seam let Jevil escape because they were friends.
Seam then suffered greatly for years as punishment for "letting Jevil escape". He was bound by these magical chains made by King. He was abused for years and at this point he had enough. But before he could do anything rash.. Jevil returned.
Jevil then felt the sinking horror realizing that he left Seam alone in this world to be abused by King. He abandoned him. After all those years of promising to one day run away together..
Seam betrayed Jevil, and Jevil abandoned Seam.
After realizing all of this and having a long emotional talk. Seam and Jevil deeply apologized to the other, and forgave each other. Marking the beginning of their new friendship. And despite Seam feeling like he doesn't deserve freedom, he agreed to run away with Jevil and finally be free with him.
~~~~
Now this story is super cool and morbid and all but now I'm questioning the story and wether or not I want it to be canon <XD
I have some other ideas that I really like too and this one is just a biiiiit dark... ish. I mean I've made worse- but idk I guess this one just has a bad taste to it..
I also like the idea that Seam has been with Jevil this whole time and was the first person he saved. Which motivated him to try and save other people and give them the same freedom that he gave to Seam. But then that would change the Grillby fight and Spamton situation a bit and also maybe effect the Goner kid situation- GAH!! I'll figure it out eventually- <XDD
I hope this wasn't too hard to stomach and if you read all the way through I thank you :}} 💖
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krystaljungs · 3 months
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DEAD FRIEND FOREVER เพื่อน ตาย (2023-24) episode 7 dir. Ma-Deaw Chookiat Sakveerakul, Chantana Tiprachart
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luneariann · 11 months
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Screaming over them again honestly
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ginumo · 5 months
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Prelude
0 // (OLD) Next
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revitalizationrat · 8 months
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Leonardo doesn't die after tossing Casey into a portal.
He's all alone in this apocalyptic hell...What will he do now? Is there anything worth fighting for?..
Let me present to you the first chapter of my comic series:
Crusade of a lonely turtle
Chapter I- Beyond the black stump
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Chapter II
Masterpost
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a-sip-of-milo · 5 months
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Nobody ever understands the affects of reactive abuse until they've experienced it themselves.
It shows particularly well when people would rather blame a child for reacting rather than the adult for abusing them in the first place.
When I was fourteen, my parents held me down to my bed, locked my window so I couldn't escape, took everything they knew I loved away from me (including contact with my grandmother, all my books, my music, all my diaries, etc.) and my step dad threatened to sit in the corner of my room and watch me for the entire night if I tried to escape. All while my three younger siblings watched me.
As a result, I had my first panic attack. It led me to attempting to break my window, smashing my mirror, becoming physically violent towards either of my parents when they attempted to come into my room, and nearly overdosing later that night after everyone had gone to bed.
For years, people ignored what I had gone through to get to that point. My parents had crafted such an elaborate story that painted themselves as the victims of my terrible abuse that nobody thought to question how I reached that point. Not the police. Not my school. Not even over half of my own family believed me. The extent of my suicidal ideations nearly put me in hospital multiple times over the following years, even succeeding once.
Reacting to abuse in this way is a cry for help. It's the equivalent of self-harm in my book, except directed towards others. That's not to say that it's okay, but more people seriously need to start looking at the bigger picture before making assumptions.
This blog is safe for people with NPD, BPD, HPD and ASPD.
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It was only supposed to be a one-night stand (Part 1)
TW: suicide attempt, mentions of self harm, smut (kinda), yandere shenanigans
okay i mayyy have made this after like seeing a bunch of hot construction workers around my campus doing tinkering and shit and my saviour complex is also kinda flaring up too
and also this is my first ever cringefail yandere, he's not rich and he barely has connections and mans was suicidal
enjouy
Part 2
Everyone doesn't know why you didn't just block him, call the cops on him, or just... anything! You don't either.
This man has been following you around for months now. Leaving you flowers on your office desk, dropping parcels of gifts in front of your door, and visiting your workplace to give you boxes of freshly made takeout.
He's not much of a talker. Maybe it's because he can't exactly speak English well. But that was the only language he had ever spoken or written in before, as far as you know.
He's definitely intimidating everyone around you. Standing at an imposing height of what you think is 6'5, his back alone is usually enough to block the sun from your eyes. With his shaggy, brown hair covering his eyes, unkempt stubble covering his face and scruffy clothes; he usually wears an olive green shirt under his very worn chore jacket and a pair of shabby khaki pants. The man wears a pair of mildly tattered combat boots. He isn't ugly, perse, but he definitely isn't the standard of beauty in society. Your stalker has this rugged and disheveled vibe to him that some may like and most look down upon.
You think he's homeless, living in his beaten car and going to public gyms to shower. You've never seen him eating something he cooked himself, it's either he's eating something out of a styrofoam box, or a package good from convenience stores.
But he isn't unemployed. You know he is a construction worker, you caught him many times staring at you longingly as you hasten your pace, fleeing the soon-to-be shopping complex near your office. He was carrying a heavy set of wooden planks on his shoulder effortlessly, the stranger wiped his sweat using the back of his hand before adjusting his hard hat.
You didn't know that he worked in this field when you first met him. You always had a good heart... or at least a heart that simply cannot handle bystander guilt.
You were walking towards the subway one day, and it was late because you agreed to work overtime. The sky was pitch black, and the only thing that illuminated the path ahead was the lamps swarmed by millions of moths.
Entering the tunnel, there were only a few people around; either waiting for the train, for someone, or for a miracle. Regardless of what they're there for, they're all occupied in their own little world.
You were about to be immersed in the world of social media too, but your blasted phone died. So you're forced to stand in silence and become aware of your surroundings, nothing to numb yourself from the daily mundaneness.
And it was this awareness that led you to notice the man in the first place. You were guarded, taking a few steps away from him as he seemed extremely intoxicated. He was swaying and stumbling, in his calloused hand, held a brown glass bottle with liquid sloshing in it. The man was mumbling something, but it was too soft and incoherent for you to hear. He kept wiping his face using the back of his knuckles.
He, just like everyone else except you, is in his own personal hell too. He spared no attention for you or anything else except his own drunken stupor, so you deem it relatively safe to watch him from where you're standing. The stranger is your only source of entertainment at the moment anyway, the train is coming soon, so why not watch him for a bit more and laugh at him internally for being at his lowest? Certainly, it would never happen to you.
You were snapped out of your own thoughts when you saw him going dangerously close to the ledge, crossing over the yellow line. At the same time, the sounds of wind rushing and rumbling reached your ears, if he falls onto the rails, he will definitely be done for. You looked behind your shoulder and saw bright lights coming from one end of the tunnel, calculating that you only have a couple seconds to make your decision.
You shouted for his attention, catching it and a few others around you. He stared at you with bloodshot, glassy eyes. However, he lost his footing and was about to fall to his ultimate demise.
The adrenaline rush amplified by the roar of the train wheels made you propel your feet toward him. You stretched your arm, grabbed him by the back of his jacket, and yanked him out of the danger zone with all your might. It definitely wasn't easy to move this hunky mass at all, but you did. And you saved him just at the nick of time, as the train rushed by, blasting a gust of wind against the two of you.
You must have underestimated your strength because he was flung back at high speeds. He grabbed your arm by instinct, trying to re-balance himself, and brought you down to the grimy subway floor with him.
You groan as you rush to sit up, cradling the arm that made contact with the ground. Scowling at the stranger for pulling such a stupid stunt in his inebriated state, upset that now you had a few pairs of judging eyes on you. You froze when you saw his eyes though, a unique glimmer made its way to his dark irises. His mouth is slightly ajar, he is staring at you with such intense reverence and adoration which you mistake as a mere alcoholic's intoxicated stare.
You screeched when he suddenly emptied the contents of his stomach on your work blouse. Shouting angry curses at him as his head was slumped to the ground and his eyelids shut.
You got up and tried to swipe as much puke away from you as you ran to the train. The last you saw him that night was in an extremely pathetic state, unconscious in his own puddle of vomit, a bottle of booze rolling away from him. People either crossed over him or walked over his body, sparing a few glances of pity or contempt before boarding the train themselves.
You thought that you were never going to see him again, with that much alcohol in his system, you would be surprised that he could even remember his own name. And you couldn't be more wrong.
A few days after that, you were in the same station, taking the same train because your boss needed you to finish the report by that day. This time, you're exhausted. Not sleeping, eating or enjoying your hobbies puts a toll on your energy levels, what a surprise.
You were nodding off in the train, struggling to keep yourself awake.
Maybe if you let yourself doze off, you'll wake up just in time for your stop. And so, you did, you let yourself drift into slumberland.
It was a mistake.
You were harshly woken up with a torch shining in your eyes and a booming voice telling you that the both of you have to leave, as this is the last stop. Lifting your head from a headrest, which actually was someone's broad shoulder. But you didn't realize that.
You were still half asleep, groggily and hastily gathering your things, not registering that the employee was also referring to another person in your proximity.
You muttered a small good night to the staff before exiting the train, yawning and stretching. Smacking your lips as you realized that your briefcase wasn't with you, must've left it back on your seat. So you turned around and walked forwards, only to ram yourself onto what you thought was an oddly shaped pillar. Cussing under your breath as you stumbled backwards, rubbing your head.
You let out a shocked yelp when you realized that it's the man instead. You were about to say something to him but your eyes landed on his side; he was holding the suitcase for you.
You stammered a quick thank you as you snatched it away from him, picking up the pace as you walked away. Howeever, you heard footfalls behind you.
Looking over your shoulder, you saw him following closely behind.
Perhaps he is also looking for an exit, so you silently lead the way to the nearest opening. But as you walk, you start to wonder; did he purposely stayed on the train with you? If he had to go somewhere he would have gotten off by then, if this was his stop, he would have left before the lights went out.
Finally, having to breath in fresh air once you exit the dusty station, you turned to look at him. Trying to discern which way is he heading.
He isn't moving. The man stood next to your side, staring straight ahead. As if he's waiting for you to take another step. After a few more seconds of idling, he turned his gaze to you.
Understandably being creeped out by this, you told him not to follow you. He blinked a couple times before continuing to stare.
Sighing, you asked him if he is lost. And you got no response.
You asked him if he is stupid. And you got no response.
Not giving a shit anymore, you picked a direction and walked. It's a long walk home and there will not be any trains left until the sun rises. As expected, he followed you all the way.
He is useful in warding off midnight catcallers and other seedy individuals that hang around alleys and empty streets. Who wouldn't be wary of him? He looks like he could easily pick them up by the scruff and fling them to the rooftops. But that means he could do that to you too, and that isn't comforting to know at all.
You reached home after an hour and a half of walking. The man is still on your trail, crowding you around the door as you unlocked it. You opened the door and immediately slipped in, he tried entering as well but you slammed it against his face. He watches you lock and latch your door through the window, he placed his hand on the glass and clawed at it a bit. You simply drew the curtains shut, praying hard that he isn't going to be there by sunrise.
Your prayers wasn't answered because you decided to check up on him an hour later. You saw him laying on the porch with his eyes closed and that tugged at your heartstrings a bit.
Maybe it's the sleep deprivation that is lowering your inhibitions, or you're just lonely and he doesn't look half bad. It could also be the cold one you cracked open that's screwing up with your soberness. Either way, you would have given yourself shit for opening the door and letting him in your house while the world is still asleep. If you get murdered, at least you won't need to go to work next week.
It was a blur, you remembered bits and pieces of his hands roaming your bare back, his cock impaling into you as he sloppily kissed you from the jaw to your neck. How his rough fingers fondled your genitals and how you were gripping your bedsheets as if your life depended on it.
Bouncing on him while you shoved your tongue down his throat was fun, especially when he wrapped his hand around the back of your head, preventing you from escaping him. Feeling the pleasant pressure on you as he pinned you to the firm bed. It was kind of him to shield your head with his hand from hitting the bedframe while he plows you from behind, iron gripping your hips with the other.
You remember starting it, demanding that he gives you something in exchange for staying a night here, you remembered pulling him into a deep, passionate, drunken kiss before he has a foot into the living room. You didn't give a shit about knowing his name or if he had any STDs, you just need to release a lot of frustrations.
You woke up hungover, with you being the small spoon while he held you tightly in his strong arms. They were littered in old scars, some clearly self inflicted.
You turned your head to see that he's still asleep, soft snores escaping his lips. Annoying to some.
Squinting as you let the sharp rays of light stab your eyes, you saw that your clothes and his were strewn all over the bedroom, the door wide open with a stray shoe resting next to it's hinges.
You looked at the clock and realized that you're going to be late. Being the workaholic you are, you shook the stranger in your bed awake. He was groaning and quietly whining about not wanting to get up, but shuts up as soon as you hurled his clothes at his face.
He shot up and cowered behind his arms as you continued throwing his articles of clothing at him, telling him that he has to leave because you need to go to work.
While he's composing himself, you rush to the bathroom to take a quick shower, pretending the cold stream of water is washing away all your sins from the night before. You lather up some soap before scrubbing your skin, internally beating yourself up for your irresponsible choices.
A familiar pair of arms snaked around your torso as you're pulled back into a strong chest, a pair of lips decided to flutter smooches on your temple and ear. His hands explored your naked body, utilizing the suds and the water to give you that electrically tingling sensation.
Of course, this intrusion wasn't taken lightly. You screamed and kicked him out of the shower, telling him to leave your house. You caught a glimpse of his confused and crestfallen look in his eyes, paired with his dripping wet hair and sopping wet body.
You finished your business, threw on a set of fresh clothes and rushed out of the door. And definitely dragging him out of there with you too, not giving a crap that he was in the middle of wearing his shirt.
You ran as fast as you could, wanting to catch the next train. And so did he, he chased after you and squeezed himself into the carriage.
Everyone was also rushing to work, there were no seats left nor were there any standing spots. Shoulders were bumping shoulders and the shorter passengers were at an all time disadvantage. You couldn't reach the handles; but he could.
As the door closes, the man held you close to him and rested his free hand on the small of your back. To outsiders, you and him looked like a run of the mill couple having each other. They couldn't be more wrong, you don't even know a single thing about him.
You just endured it, having no choice but to stick next to him. He yawned and frowned, looking quite displeased that he was not in your bed. Well, that's his fault, no one forced him to follow you back home, and no one forced him to stick himself inside of you.
Among the busy chatter in the train, you and him stayed silent. Gradually feeling comfortable in each other's embrace.
You mumbled curses under your breath, he knows where you live and he is going to know where you work. Couldn't this year get any worse?
As soon as the doors open, you make a mad dash out of the station. Running as fast as you could, not caring who you had to shove to clear your way.
You never looked back, but you made sure to take as many detours as possible to mess with his direction if he somehow managed to catch up to you. But your lungs and your out-of-shape-office-worker legs can only take you so far, you reach a nearby tree in a park next to your building.
You panted as you scanned your surroundings, only seeing the elderly, children, athletic adults, and their pets. No sign of that man you slept with last night.
You took a couple more minutes to catch your breath, knowing fully that your boss would chew you up for being close to an hour late. Whatever, you're here now. Let's earn your salary.
So you walked, it's just a couple minutes away. Nothing else should go wrong today-
You had an incredulous look on your face when you saw him loitering at the entrance. Your colleagues glance him up and down, some admiring the way his muscles slightly stick out of his shirt, some wondering what an unkempt hunk like him is doing in front of such a corporate, sanitized venue.
There was no way to sneak past him, you just had to face him. It was... cute that his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you. So you sighed as you marched up to him, requesting him to leave you alone as politely as you could. There was an edge to your tone, he must either be oblivious to it or he's simply choosing to ignore the fact that you're unhappy with him here.
During mid-sentence, he presented you with a paper plate that had a hotdog on it. You were speechless, it had everything on it: ketchup, mustard, relish, pickles, mayonnaise, cheese, Jalapeño slices, onions, beef chili, and other heaps of things that you couldn't identify. With the number of toppings, you couldn't tell that it was a hotdog in the first place, it was just a mountain of random savory foodstuffs. Your eyes darted to his other hand, it also had a hotdog wrapped in a napkin, except his one only had relish.
"I didn't know what you liked..." He mumbled, voice so deep that you could feel the vibrations in your own chest. The man looked at you with hope, wanting you to accept the plate of everything as breakfast.
You shook your head and said you were late to work. Pushing him away from the door before entering the building, some of the topping amalgamations spilled onto his shirt. Probably staining it forever with its oil content.
He stood there with a frown, he craned his head downwards to stare at the spill.
Then, he looked back up to see that you were out of sight. His shoulders sagged as he placed his own hotdog on top of your plate of horrors.
The man walked away as he pulled out a plastic spoon that he tucked in his pocket, it was given to him by the vendor because it is impossible to eat your order with hands.
He began digging in, throwing one last glance at the main door behind him.
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cryptidtyping · 7 months
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I want to go back
Summary: It's not easy coming face-to-face with your own dead body. You wish the demons you live with would even pretend to care. Lesson 16 spoilers
Content Warnings: Suicide attempt.
This is angst, all hurt, little/no comfort.
As the brothers rejoiced at the reappearance of the youngest, Belphegor (the same brother you went out of your way to help, the same brother you endured Lucifers threats and suspicion for, the same brother who took your trust and broke it and threw it in your face, the same brother who had just killed you), you felt… empty.
Over the past few months, as you watched movies with Mammon, or played games with Levi, or ate at Hell’s kitchen with Beel, or did skincare with Asmo, or read with Satan, the hollow little crack where your soul would be had filled up. With joy, with content, maybe even with love… there was nothing, all of it evaporating into dust.
You watched Mammon needle Belphegor, hiding his smile as he did, and you felt cold. Did your first demon not remember holding your corpse, only moments ago? Crying for you, yelling at the same brother he laughed with now?
You’d never be able to forget looking at your own dead body, how limp it was, the vivid bruises encircling your throat like a necklace. How it had simply faded away before your eyes. (you remembered clawing at unrepentant, unmoving hands and gasping for breath and fighting and fighting because you thought happiness resided with this literally damned family)
Looking at the happy family, you felt a chasm opening between you and them.
How silly you feel, now, thinking you could ever be a part of their family.
They’ve already forgotten you existed.
Empty. You felt so empty.
Why hadn’t you just stayed dead?
….
The front door clicks shut, but they don’t notice.
‘I want to go back.’
How often had you ended up at this same bridge during your stay in the Devildom, the one that overlooked the city with the palace a striking silhouette against the sky? Too often, perhaps, when you needed space and quiet.
‘I want to go back.’
You’d stepped over the guardrail, toes dangling over the abyss. Your hands were firmly gripping the bars, head tilted down to stare at the serpentine river far, far, far below.
‘I want to go back.’
Tears slipped down your nose.
You wanted to hate Belphegor, and you do, but you couldn’t help but also be grateful. Never before had you known the peace, the quiet, the warmth, that he’d helped you discover on the other side.
‘I want to go back.’
Head tilting back, you stare at the twinkling stars in the sky. Suicide was a sin, so you’d probably be right back here, but…
Maybe God would take pity on your poor soul, and you’d get to go to Heaven.
‘I want to go back.’
No one was coming to stop you. A sob rips itself from your throat.
Your fingers begin to relax, and you let go.
But someone was holding onto you.
Your savior hauled you back over the guardrail, your body splaying across rough cobblestone and scraping any unlucky bit of exposed flesh. The hand around your wrist had disappeared, and the unknown person did not remain a mystery much longer.
“____, what happened?” Simeon asked gently, softly, hands fluttering around you nervously but never landing for fear of triggering your haphephobia. He was knelt before you, smelling of baked sweets and honey and mint, and he was looking at you.
He saw you.
(Finally, finally someone saw you and your pain and and-)
You throw yourself into his arms and sob.
Death had nothing on the peace and warmth you found when the angels arms hesitantly wrap around you.
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Thoughts and feelings about Izzy in s2ep4 and what it means to me as a fellow disabled person:
Yeah, so, that episode, huh?
You know, I already knew going into this new season that Izzy's storyline is going to hit me hard regardless of the exact little plot points it might have, but it's only now, several hours after I've watched eps 4&5 that I'm really starting to digest what his story means to me in it's current shape. This is... a bit long. I also mention a character from a different show - Isaac from Sex Education.
Izzy has always been a bit of a dick, right? That's the reason a lot of people hated him in the first season.
Well, now he is a bit of a dick and disabled. And let me tell you how fucking ecstatic I am about that.
You see, looking for disabled characters in media I consume has rarely been gratifying - if they are there at all, which already is rare, they have very little to do, and if they're even semi-important, they're almost always the epitomes of goodness. Nice, understanding, quiet, patient.
Barely there.
The first time I truly felt something change in this area was with the appearance of Isaac in Netflix's Sex Education. He's sarcastic, funny, talented, honest and mean.
The fandom of that show hated Isaac, let me tell you.
It was mostly because he took direct action to separate the main ship of the show that had many people obsessed. As you'd expect. People's ableism immediately jumped out. As you'd expect.
Because how dare he have his own motivations and wants, and to do what he thinks is right?
Barely there.
And now we have Izzy. Izzy, who also did what he thought was right, which in s1 of the show was trying to separate Ed and Stede. He wasn't trying to make himself too likeable at any point (well. when the crew almost mutinied on him in s1 he did do a last ditch effort but. you remember how well that went).
My point is that now we have someone who isn't particularly nice, and now he's dealing with a sudden loss of ability in his body, which is going to make him even worse. He's angry! Of course he is! He's hobbling around with half a leg gone, humiliated, exhausted, barely recovered from impromptu amputation, no anesthesia. And a suicide attempt! He's angry at himself, his body, at Ed, at Stede, at God if he still believes in one, and who knows who else.
He isn't suddenly going to become nicer to people just because. He doesn't need to be humbled.
(a little sidenote: I do not accept the reasoning that Izzy somehow deserved to lose his leg, that "oh what did he expect riling up Ed when he was heartbroken?" etc. He wasn't expecting to get shot in the fucking leg. Nobody fucking deserves that, and if you think that Ed shooting him in the leg and Izzy subsequently having to have it amputated was an "appropriate punishment" for "what he's done", you're just cruel and wrong. Now scram.)
But that's the point. Disabled people deserve help regardless of whether or not we are nice.
Thankfully (not from Izzy's point of view - his pride was definitely bruised in that moment) the crew saw him struggle, and acted in kind. Because Izzy is their dick. And now - also their unicorn.
And it means so much to me that we get the representation of disabled people who thrash around and rattle the bars of their societal cages, furious at the world that isn't welcoming to us, and receive love and care and an invitation to a loving community regardless.
We shouldn't have to be here just when ableds are ready to give. We aren't meek vessels for your good will. Izzy is such a painfully realistic (as far as the universe of the show permits, given it's unavoidable goofiness) portrayal of the anger of someone who's lost some of their body's past ability, and how one might deal with it.
And I really wanted to say something about that, because I'm afraid it might get lost in the discussion about the more popular and more easily digestible aspects of the show.
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alenachelk · 1 month
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Felix is ​​always ready to help Adrien, but that doesn't mean he does it well (mostly he makes everything worse)
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Bonus:
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sad-leon · 4 months
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TW!! Suicide Attempt, Self Harm, Implied Eating Disorder
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i forgor the colour behind the dialogue but im too tired to add it now
im so tired and theres no resolution because nothing i can make will make me feel better. i Know my friends love me and think my life is worth living, but when it gets bad it gets Bad and theres nothing to do but pick up the peices
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mossiestpiglet · 7 months
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I can’t stop thinking about how Ed needed Izzy to die first before he tried to kill himself. No one else actually mattered to him at all; Frenchie, Jim, Fang, it’s debatable if he even knows Archie’s name- they’re just accessories to his own death. But Izzy’s death mattered enough that he had to intimidate Frenchie into revealing Izzy’s location just so that Ed could go and leave Izzy with a gun knowing exactly what he would do when left alone with it. He needed Izzy to die first because he knew Izzy would try to stop him. He needed Izzy to die first because he needed everyone who loved him to be gone. He needed Izzy to die first because no matter how much he could hurt Izzy, could walk him right up to the very edge of death, Ed could never be the one to actually kill Izzy himself. If Ed was going to take them all down at the end of the day, Izzy had to already be dead by his own hand because Ed couldn’t do it. Not to Izzy.
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krystaljungs · 3 months
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DEAD FRIEND FOREVER เพื่อน ตาย (2023-24) episode 7 dir. Ma-Deaw Chookiat Sakveerakul, Chantana Tiprachart
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luneariann · 7 months
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I went through the five stages of grief making this but it’s FINISHED HUZZAHHHH
As you can see…. I struggled, special thanks to my beloved friend @caelanglang for giving me advice on this thing cuz without them I would’ve given up 🫶
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