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#tw Suicidal thoughts
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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snuffysbox · 5 months
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The canon heart event that made me want to do these comics to begin with 🌧️
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borderlinereminders · 3 months
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Sometimes I deal with suicidal thoughts and get urges. My lack of emotional permanence makes it extra hard because I’m convinced that feeling suicidal is the only feeling and it’ll never pass. Something that helps me get through the moment is “I always have the power to end everything but I don’t have to do it right now.”
Reminding myself of that can help me get through the feelings. It makes the urges less strong. Telling myself “no” instead of “maybe later” makes them harder to ignore and makes my emotional situation worse.
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what it's like to fuck re4 leon (angsty)
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pairing: leon/reader
cw: ANGST, smut, rough sex, mentions of suicidal ideation, mentions of death, low self-esteem
summary: i wanted to write headcanons/a similar post to the vendetta!leon post and give my 'realistic'/pessimistic take on re4 leon's sex life, (as opposed to the cute/sexy idealistic version), but i let my mind off it's leash and went full-blown depressing
wc: 977
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Leon’s a certified cynic and doesn’t do much to hide it. If you found him out somewhere, maybe a bar - a place he’d one day frequent, he’d seem unapproachable. Not only due to his obvious physical attractiveness, but also to his disinterested expression, which wasn’t directed at anything or anyone in particular. He probably got dragged out of his house by friends who were chatting and laughing, or had already gone home with someone else, so he was just biding time until he’d decide to call a cab home. 
If you struck up a conversation with him, he’d smile politely because behind it all, he’s still kind. The stoic facade is just a new manifestation of depression because he’s not allowed to cry or rot away in bed. That’s not what a good government agent does. He’s charming when you finally get him to open up a bit. He compliments you, sincerely, despite the awkward manner in which the words fall out of his mouth. 
As the night drags on you can’t stop yourself from thinking about how badly you want to take him home or vice versa. You’re hoping he’ll kiss you, but he’s not into PDA, so he won’t, in a crowded bar. But, when you’re standing outside about to call a cab, you think he’s going to offer you his jacket because it’s cold during the winter in D.C., but when he wraps one arm around you, his other hand lifts your chin, so he can kiss you. Soon, that same hand is cradling the back of your head, so you don’t hit your head on the brick wall behind you when you’re pressed up against it. The kiss is hot. It’s not all tongue-and-teeth sloppy, but it’s far from chaste, especially once he has one of your legs wrapped around one of his hips. 
Eventually, he’s holding you up entirely and it takes no energy for him, you can tell by his arms. Still, you can feel his biceps flex under your touch, and you can’t help but think about the possibility of reaching down and feeling a similar firm sensation at the front of his jeans. 
If you’re lucky, if he’s too drunk and can’t walk without stumbling, thus incapable of any sort of wild sex, or if he’s too sober and still has a grasp on the consequences of getting caught with his pants down in public, he might take you home. The sex wouldn’t be rough - unless you ask for it - because he doesn’t know you like that and would never want to cross a boundary. He understands what those are. If you asked for it hard, he’d happily grant that wish because he’s constantly pent up with frustration and has very few outlets to get his emotions out. It’s not like he can talk this shit out, so sex is a cheap bandaid solution, but it feels better than nothing. He’d like it from behind - he wouldn’t want to see your face, but not because he doesn’t think you’re beautiful. He does. But sometimes pleasure looks like pain and he hates to watch people cry even no matter the circumstance. 
On the other hand, he’s quite the masochist. He wants to get his hair pulled while he’s on his knees with his face shoved between your legs. His perfect, precious hair that he fought so hard to keep, but this is the only time it’s not for show. It’s useful when it comes to sex, it’s another vulnerability, one that he allows himself to have. He likes scratches down his back, too, ones that cover up old scars like a new paint job. In the shower the next morning, he doesn’t have to relive every knife and bullet that’s ever grazed his skin. Nails down his back or his chest let him link pain to pleasure, he only deserves the former in his opinion, though, the second is just collateral. 
Sex is just a chase to death, really, Leon thinks. It’s the kind he’s man enough to suffer. The ten seconds of oblivion are so good, especially since he doesn’t have to think anymore. He can’t off himself just yet, so it’s the best he can do. The only other options are morphine, lobotomy and a bullet to the head, or at least, that’s what he thinks. He’d never say it out loud, though. 
When he fucks you, he doesn’t have to think. It’s the same adrenaline rush he feels when he’s in fight or flight mode. It’s like killing, you feel the guilt later. It’s not the same as fighting bioterrorism, though, since the government’s the one that’s screwing him in that situation. The animalistic, carnal side of him doesn’t take over his mind when he kills. He’s not voracious like that, there’s nothing thrilling. Because no matter how hard he’s thrusting into you, even if the tip of his dick is hitting your cervix everytime and his iron grip on you leaves bruises, he’s a good man inside. 
If you don’t want it hard and fast, you’ll get it slow and deep and methodical. It’s a memorized routine, he’s just running on instinct, but he’s not bored. It’s more like watching the same TV show over and over, it was good the first time and it’s comfortable, so you keep cycling through the same episodes. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 
Leon feels guilty when he gets his dick sucked, so you’d have to coax him into it. If you really want to spoil him, though, you’d have to ask him not to pull out when he’s right on the edge. He doesn’t even think he has a breeding kink, but it’s like you’ve put malware in his brain and just fucked up the code, he can’t help the fact that he blows his load inside you. He’ll buy you Plan B tomorrow and leave it on the counter alongside a sticky note with an apology on it, short and sincere.  
Leon will let you stay the night, let you snuggle up to him while he tries to reciprocate the same gentleness, and he’ll make you coffee in the morning. He won’t plan on romancing you, though. It’s not out of any malice. It’s just that he doesn’t quite believe in love, or at least, he doesn’t believe it’s for him. The government controls his life and he’s learned to submit - they haven’t sent any women to court him yet, so he’s convinced they’d never let him have a girlfriend.
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charlunday · 8 months
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it's okay to be sad. 💛
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soranatus · 4 months
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INVINCIBLE 2x04: It's Been a While
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dreamingamongthestars · 3 months
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Let's leave the phrase "letting the 'intrusive thoughts' win" in 2023. Yet another online attempt to appropriate and incorrectly define symptoms experienced by those with OCD and suicidal thoughts. Wanting to do something silly for fun (which is called an IMPULSIVE THOUGHT) is nowhere near the harrowing, real ordeals experienced by people with severe, debilitating mental illness.
This awful trend is "I'm so OCD" all over again and misinforms ppl with undiagnosed OCD/suicidal thoughts as well as the general public. People with real intrusive thoughts will spend their lives hiding in shame and being bullied due to the misunderstanding of what they really are. Lives are ruined by intrusive thoughts and the lack of awareness and empathy surrounding them. Do your research and pls be kind
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furiousgoldfish · 10 days
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(tw mention of suicidal thoughts)
Alright so I am writing this because I can't find anyone to talk to, and my brain is letting me know that I need to talk about it somewhere.
I am falling depressed, and I'm unsure if it's genuine depression, or some sort of deep grief that is just feeling very similar. And I've already looked up what you're supposed to do if you're trying to break out of depression; I am sleeping full 8 hours on a regular sleep schedule, I shower regularly, I do my best to eat regular meals (sometimes it doesn't happen due to lack of energy), if I have any energy left in me, I take a little walk, I pay attention to my surroundings. I do my best to answer messages and to socialize, even superficially, with the people I see.
However, despite me doing all that, the deep feeling of sadness is persevering, in fact it gets worse after my walks, I end up going home in worse feeling of dread than before.
I was going to keep trying to break out of it, and then today something bad and triggering happened, and my mind just went very dark. Like what is even the point anymore? I started considering if anyone around me would be impacted by my suicide. And then just tried to dissociate from the bad thing that happened, tried to create reality in which it didn't. Like I could ignore it out of existence. Like maybe if I just curl up over there and never look at anything ever again, maybe then bad things would go away.
I tried to comfort myself thinking I could, at least, tell people around me and see if anyone would say anything kind or helpful, but people around me did not care at all, would go on about their troubles instead and looked at me like I was weirdo for complaining. Which again, made me feel like talking to people was the worst idea ever and like I was dumb for even engaging, I should have known I'm alone in this.
So now I'm back to sinking down in my grief, occasionally getting numb from it and sinking again. I had periods, years of grief in the past, and it just feels like you're slowly dying, right, and it doesn't stop and it feels suffocating and like you'd do anything for it to stop. But also in the past, I knew what I was grieving; it was the loss of my delusion of family, loss of hope that I will have family members who are in any way safe for me, loss of security and safety that comes with family, acknowledgment that I was abandoned and left with predators for the most of my life. I thought I was done grieving about all that, because for a while I just didn't think about it, and it didn't bother me. I don't think that's what I'm grieving now.
It's actually hard to pinpoint it, because my memories are mostly gone, but I think it's the loss of friendships in my life. I've tried hard to build connections with other people, even as scared and reluctant I was feeling about it, but it always fell trough, and left me feeling with less hope. The ends of friendships were so traumatic for me, that my memories of the entire friendships got deleted. And I can tell right now that hearing anything about people having friends, spending time together and helping each other, that usually sets my grief off, and causes me to start crying regardless of where I am. I tried to recall my past memories of friendships, but all I get back are things I never want to feel or live trough again. Every memory feels like enough reason never to interact with a person again, all of them cut so deep I have to dissociate from them right away.
And basically I don't know what to do. I am losing every bit of my willpower or energy to do anything. Even with my best efforts to stay upright, to interact with my environment and go to walks, I'm only out of bed while I'm working. And I'm randomly bursting into tears and collapsing while I'm doing my job. I am messing up basic tasks. There isn't any activity that isn't exhausting. And everything I cared about feels like nothing to me. I can't even imagine a future, which is usually what I did to pull myself out of bad moods, I would imagine a future where I had a home of my own, and security that I would be able to survive there without having to fight for my life. Now it feels like even if I had that, I would just still want to die.
I've been slowly falling into this place for months, but it is more real today than at any time before. I've put so much effort not to end up feeling like this but... it only makes me more sad to know I'm in this mess anyway. I don't know what to do. I've tried interacting with people, I've tried befriending people, every new interaction feels like it's going to drown me further.
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nurse-buckley · 1 year
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Tomorrow Holds Such Better Days
Fandom: 9-1-1  Word Count: 2,472 Characters: Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Bobby Nash, firefam (mentioned) Warnings: major trigger warning for depression, suicidal thoughts, suicide and overdosing with pills. If you are not in the right mind frame to read this please skip this one. Summary: After your depression worsens, you decide to take things into your own hands and end your life, but will a message to your family be enough to save your life? Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @hauntedmilkshakeghost @floralbuckleys @alexxavicry (if you want to be added or taken off the list, please let me know)
Thank you @floralbuckleys @firemedicdiaz and @bucketofbarnes for all of your help, support with writing this <3
If you or anyone else is struggling with thoughts of suicide please reach out to someone you trust or alternatively try these helplines (x) If the link is broken, please let me know. You don't have to suffer alone.
You were no stranger to depression, having struggled with it off and on for a long time. The constant, agonizing feeling of sinking, as if you were watching everyone around you swimming up for air but there was a constant weight dragging you down. You didn’t want to die, but sometimes it just felt that going to sleep and never waking up or an accident on the job taking you out would make it easier. 
Life had just gotten to be too much. Truly, sometimes you just thought maybe it wasn’t for you. Maybe you were just one of the unlucky ones that life didn’t work out for. With those constant thoughts plaguing your mind for days, you had finally made up your mind to end your life and made peace with it. If self-preservation had taught you anything, it was that maybe you should be terrified. But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
Usually you would have reached out to someone before it got to this point. You would have phoned Eddie, Buck or Bobby, or even the family you’d gained through them, knowing they’d all been through their own struggles. Any one of them would have dropped what they were doing to help you. But again, no matter how hard you tried to pick up the phone, typing and backspacing messages asking for help, the voice in your head was just too loud and fed you all the usual lies. 
‘You’re a burden,’ ‘No one cares.’ ‘Why are you so needy?’ ‘They have their own lives and issues to worry about without adding your burdens to them.’ 
You didn’t want to put your issues on them anymore, scared of the judgment, the looks and the pity they might give you. Not when they had their own problems and lives to deal with. If you were being truthful to yourself, maybe you didn’t want to tell them because if you did they would stop you and you weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted. 
This just felt like the best option; for you, and for them. 
You opened your phone, sending a text to Bobby first to let him know you couldn’t make it to work again. It was the second shift in a row that you’d missed, and even now you hated the fact that you were letting the team down. A few moments later, your phone started pinging with a few notifications from your friends.  
Hen: ‘I hope you feel better soon <3’
Chim: ‘Feel better, let me or Maddie know if you need anything :)’ 
Buck: ‘Me and Eddie will swing by to check on you with some soup after shift, do you need anything else? xx’
You cursed yourself for lying to them, once again forcing the attention on yourself. The guilt only added to your decision and with one last text to the group, that was it. 
‘Thanks for always having my back guys. Appreciate and love you all.’ 
You hit the send button, leaving the phone on your coffee table along with a hastily scribbled note explaining your decision and apologizing.  
To everyone else, the message you’d sent seemed normal. They’d pocketed their phones and gone about their normal duties, checking inventory and cleaning, but something in Buck just didn’t sit right. He’d read the message over and over, trying to convince himself that everything was okay, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. 
You’d opened up to Buck about your past a few times, your parents, even your therapy. He thought you’d been doing better but he’d noticed your downturn in mood lately; how quiet you’d been, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, even as you laughed at his and Chim’s jokes.
Buck made his way to Bobby’s office. “Hey Cap, is it alright if me and Eddie swing by y/n’s place?” 
Bobby didn’t miss the concern plastering Buck’s face, being able to read him like a book and knowing something wasn’t sitting right with him. 
“What’s going on?” 
It didn’t take him long to quickly explain his worries, the warning signs, and that he wouldn’t feel okay until he checked on you. 
Bobby mentally kicked himself for not putting it together sooner, knowing the warning signs from his own experiences when Hen and Buck had almost had to break his door down for him years before. “Take one of the med kits and keep me updated.” 
Buck practically flew out of Bobby’s office, calling Eddie as he ran to grab one of the spare medical kits and monitors from the storage closet. 
“I’ll explain on the way, we need to go. Now.”  
“Y/N, can you open the door for us?” 
Buck pulled out his phone, willing his hands to stop shaking so he could unlock the screen and call your number. Eddie leant in closer to the door as they heard your familiar ringtone. With no answer or signs of movement, Eddie pulled out the spare key you’d given him. 
As the pair walked in, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The place was relatively tidy but there was no sign of you being there. Buck called out your name once more, his worry only growing as he was met with silence. 
“Buck…” Eddie’s heart felt as if it were in his throat as his eyes landed on your phone sitting on top of a folded piece of paper on the coffee table where you’d left them.  
Buck’s feet carried him towards your bedroom before his mind could even fully comprehend the note, not even caring to knock as he swung open the door. His breath caught in his throat as he saw your body lying prone on your bed, the small orange pill bottle lying empty and open on your bedside table. 
He couldn’t even hear himself screaming Eddie’s name for help over the pounding in his ears as he ran to the bedside and dropped to his knees. He pressed his fingers into your neck, relief washing over him as he felt your pulse beneath his fingertips. It was slower then he’d have liked, but it was there. 
You felt as if you were floating, vaguely aware of voices around you, hands jostling your body and flipping you onto your back; but your body was too heavy to fight back, the pull of the drugs still keeping you asleep. You felt another set of warm fingers press into the side of your neck, but the darkness was safe. Comforting. 
It wasn’t until you felt the painful sensation of knuckles rubbing up and down the center of your chest that you became more aware of your surroundings. The pain caused you to let out a groan as you sluggishly came back to your senses. 
“That’s it. Open your eyes for me, we’ve got you.” 
Even through the haze, you could recognise that voice anywhere. “Ed…?” 
The knuckles continued to try and rouse you and you would have given anything to smack him away if your arms weren’t so heavy.  
“Yeah. It’s me, I’m here. Buck’s here too. Open your eyes for us.” 
When you finally opened your eyes, you were met with the two men hovering over you. It didn’t take long for the memories to come rushing back; the text messages…the note…the pills. You suddenly became aware of the enormity of what you’d just attempted. You’d tried to kill yourself, and without Buck and Eddie there you very nearly could have succeeded. There was no coming back from that and you knew you’d have to explain yourself. 
You shot up, crashing into Eddie as you wrapped your arms around him, fisting your hands into his t-shirt as every emotion that had built up over the last few weeks burst out. He wrapped his arms around you in return, holding you as you cried, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you choked out between sobs.  
“Shh, it’s alright, you’re okay. We’ve got you,” you heard Buck say as you felt him rub soothing patterns up and down your back. 
Eventually the sobs died down, turning to small hiccups and you pulled away. Shame suddenly overwhelmed you, your hands and gaze dropping to your lap, not being able to look at either man.    
Eddie reached out slowly, giving you time to back away before he gently squeezed your hands and ducked his head to try and gain your attention. “Y/n?” 
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you looked up at him; Anger? Annoyance? Disgust? But you were only met with his soft and understanding expression. 
“I’m really sorry sweetheart. I know this is the last thing you want right now, but with the pills you took I need you to let me or Buck take a look at you. I know that you know what kinds of effects they can have on your body and so I know you know it's important we get a set of vitals on you and see what’s going on with your heart and breathing. Do you think we can get you settled on the couch so we can check you over?” 
You looked between him and Buck, being met with twin concerned expressions and nodded, knowing it needed to be done. 
“Thank you,” Eddie replied as he gave your hands another squeeze. 
The pair moved to either side of you as they helped you swing your legs off the bed and kept you steady as you stood. They stayed still for a moment, letting you gain your balance, before leading you to the couch in the living room. 
Once settled, Buck pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, wrapped it around your back and took the seat next to you, offering out his hand. You took it gratefully, needing all the strength you could get to get you through Eddie’s exam. 
He began with a few questions. How many pills you took, how you were feeling physically and if you had any symptoms. Thankfully the vitals were quick and after a few more tears, he set the equipment off to the side and took your other hand. “I’m happy your vitals are stable for now. I’d be happier if you got checked out at the hospital, but…” 
“No…” your panic began to rise at the thought of hospitals, doctors and nurses. 
A squeeze from Eddie’s hand grounded you enough for him to continue, “But,  I understand if you don’t want that,” he added quickly, knowing your previous experiences with hospitals. 
“Me and Buck would come with you and we could call it an accidental overdose, no one would need to know the details. It’d just be so we can get you checked medically, but I can’t and am not going to force you.” 
“I can’t.”  
“Okay, if we’re not going to the hospital then I have a few conditions. I’m going to keep an eye on your vitals until the pills wear off, but if anything changes we will have to call an ambulance. I’m also going to set up some fluids to help flush your system and make you something to eat. How does that sound?” 
You were terrified at the thought of more vitals, needles and eating; but you knew the alternative would be a lot worse. You trusted Eddie and Buck with your life, and another glance between the pair had you agreeing to his terms. 
Buck was next to speak, offering distraction as Eddie began gathering the supplies he needed to start the IV. “Have you got an appointment with your therapist coming up any time soon?” 
“Yeah. I’ve got an appointment the day after tomorrow.” 
“That’s good.” 
He kept up the conversation, talking about anything that came to mind, Eddie chipping in here and there.  
“Almost ready here,” Eddie interrupted, “Where’s best for you to have the IV?”  
You held out your preferred arm, turning away to Buck for distraction as he cleaned the area. Before you knew it, Eddie had the fluids up and running. With nothing more to do for the moment, the room fell silent. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie asked, being the first to broach the subject. 
You fiddled with the tape on your IV for a minute, not sure whether you wanted to open that can of worms or not. “Not really. I don’t know. I’m a little embarrassed and know it was dumb and I could have come to any of you, but I just couldn’t see a way out for a minute there.” 
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’d be surprised to find someone today who hasn’t been affected by poor mental health,” Eddie replied, “and I don’t need to tell you that any of us would have dropped everything to help you.”  
The three of you talked more while the fluids ran through. Buck had already updated Bobby who’d promised to come by after shift, asking Eddie and Buck to stay with you as he called in cover for them. Buck made you all something to eat so you wouldn’t feel alone, while Eddie kept an eye on you and got a few more sets of vitals. 
True to his word, a few hours later Bobby appeared, taking the seat beside you as he pulled you into his chest and held you close. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were struggling sooner,” he whispered only for you to hear.  
“Do the others know?” 
“No,” Bobby shook his head, “and they don’t have to know, unless you tell them. They just think you’ve got a bad case of the flu.” 
“I’m sorry,” you let out after a few moments of silence. 
“You don’t have to be. I’ve been there before. After my family died I had a plan and if it weren’t for Buck, Hen and the rest of you…I wouldn’t be here. They got me through and we’ll get you through. It’s what family does.” 
You let out a shaky breath, “So. What happens now?” 
“That’s up to you. Do you think it would be a good idea to take some time off work?” 
“No. Isolating myself just makes things worse. Not having anything to do tends to make me spiral a little.” 
The pair of you agreed on a plan. A few days off to recover, continuing with your therapist and checking in with either him, Buck or Eddie if you felt yourself slipping again. Buck offered to let you stay with him, not wanting you to be alone and wanting you where he could keep an eye on you for the night. You knew the road to recovery was only just beginning, but you felt a little lighter with your family by your side. 
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jgyapologism · 7 months
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You know, I just can't get the opening scene of only friends ep 4 out of my head, and not just because it broke my heart.
When the scene opens, Ray is doing a voice over, and the first thing he says is: "Everybody has an emergency contact. Someone to call when we need urgent assistance. That person can be a lover, a sibling, or a family member, but for someone who doesn't have any of those, my emergency contact is Mew."
And it just really makes me wonder how estranged he and his father must be from one another, for Ray to not even consider him a family member, or even consider having his own father as his emergency contact. Instead, he chooses the friend who, immediately upon answering, says: "Are you drunk again? I'm not picking you up this time."
And Ray's response to that? "I just called to tell you that I love you."
That right there should be raising alarm bells in Mew's head. But what does he say? "You're drunk and talking nonsense."
And Ray responds with: "Thank you for being a good friend to me and always taking care of me."
And fuck. It just makes me so, so sad. Because Ray is reaching out. He's fucking SCREAMING for help in this moment, calling the one friend he trusts enough to be his emergency contact, and that friend is responding in the most unsupportive way imaginable.
(Listen: I've been that friend. I've been the one who's been called upon by drunk family members or friends who are ALWAYS drunk. It can be exhausting, but if they said that shit to me? I would be IN MY CAR already on the way. I would have my phone ready to call a fucking ambulance if need be.
And like, yes. Setting boundaries is important. We can't always take care of our self destructive friends/family, but at moments like THIS, when they start using language like THIS, you better fucking pay attention.)
"If I'm gone, I won't be anyone's burden anymore, right? You take care of yourself."
Just ... the way Ray responds to indifference, or to insults, is to internalize it. He always blames himself. He is always viewing himself as the problem. And I just know it fucking stems from his mother and his father - a mother who apparently never hugged him and a father who seems to have abandoned him.
It just makes you think about the fucked up relationship that Ray must have with love, and how people express love towards him, that he has internalized it to the point of thinking he's a burden.
So here we have Ray, on the verge of suicide, calling the one person he thinks will be there for him during a moment of crisis, or perhaps the one person he thinks will offer him a way out - and Mew just, doesn't. Not until he realizes what Ray is about to do.
And I don't know. I just think it's a lesson for us all: If you care about somebody, fucking show it. All the time.
It reminds me of the very first episode, when Ray tells Boston, Mew, and Cheum that he loves them, and Boston's response is to say: "He's saying please don't leave me."
It just really fucking breaks my heart that Ray's response to being ridiculed is to not only internalize it and blame himself, but to still show love to that person, to still show his sincerity. And even then, his sincerity isn't accepted.
Because he's just a drunkard. How could he possibly be sincere?
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myymi · 1 month
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Tails has always liked fire.
Sonic has too, but he mostly likes it because it's the opposite of water.
For Tails, fire was a friend. It kept him warm when his fur wasn't able to do so on its own. It cooked his food and provided a perfect mood for spending a calm night with his friends.
It protected him.
Even before he met Sonic, fire protected him during one of the scariest moments in his life.
He doesn't remember why he decided he had to be the one to take on the armada that had attacked Cocoa Island. He learned to believe it was just a ‘he was there, so he might as well do it’ situation. It didn't really make sense to him though, he was usually too scared to do anything when he was four.
But he did it anyway.
Fighting the Battle Kukku wasn't so bad. They had plenty of guns and other weapons, but it was pretty easy to overwhelm them by throwing a bomb or two.
The hardest fights were against Speedy and his dad, The Great Battle Kukku. They dragged on for what felt like forever, and he was so sore by the end of it all.
He was too sore, in fact. He couldn't move once he killed The Great Kukku. He could only limply cradle the stones as the ship fell towards the ocean. He wasn't sure why the Battle Kukku were so intent on collecting these stones, but it had to mean they were important.
There was nothing else alive on the ship but Tails.
Well–nothing except the fire that was left behind during the battles.
It was so hot it felt like he was being burned alive, but it was still the safest he'd ever felt. The warm flames circled him protectively, not letting anything else come near him or the stones.
He wasn't sure how he survived the crash or how he even managed to get off the island. All he knows is that he fell asleep in the warmth of the flames, and then he was back on Westside Island.
Sometimes he still wished he never woke up at all.
He still felt the lingering warmth of the fire when he woke up. It didn't last long, but it was nice.
He's liked fire ever since. He was always gentle when near a new flame, always taking extra precautions to make sure it wouldn't die out.
He owed it that much. It kept him alive all those years ago, so it was only fair he repaid the favor now.
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Trimax Thoughts Vol. 4 Pt. 3
Alright. Bit of a heavier one for tonight. I want to talk Vash's relation to his own feelings of anger and how these tie into his suicidal thoughts, because it's tragically fascinating and I still can't really make heads or tails out of it - specifically in that I don't think anyone is a reliable narrator in this situation so I'm left a little lost as to who to believe.
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(ID: A screenshot of four panels from Chapter 7 of Volume 4 of Trigun Maximum. A conversation between Hoppered and Vash takes place, in which Hoppered says "I bet you want to kill me too, right? Of course you do... You want to tear me limb from limb." A somewhat grainy image of Rem, smile visible but eyes hidden, is shown, before Vash replies, his eyes narrowed, "Yeah... I do..." End ID.)
Warning! I am going to be discussing Vash's no good, very bad mental health. It's nothing worse than what is obvious from a read of the manga but if you're not in the headspace for it, you might want to skip this one. I had a bit of trouble writing it, if I'm being honest.
Volume 4 basically solidified what had kept cropping up all throughout the manga - Vash is keeping himself going only through his goal of "settling the score" with Knives. On the next page, Vash says the following:
"That's why... you can go right ahead and kill me. But... before I give you that chance... before I let you bind me in chains, lock me up, and torture me to death... I will send Knives to hell!"
Yikes buddy. This has been a running bit of characterization all throughout the manga - Vash survives because he has to. He takes small moments of joy where he can, tries to smile even when he's not feeling it, looks on the bright side even when things seem hopeless, because that's the only way he can survive to do what he has to. <- There's nothing especially wrong with this. This is a coping mechanism and as far as his coping mechanisms go, it's not so bad at all. It's actually pretty good, all things considered.
Problem is, he also has to embody the ideal he strives for - that no one needs to die, that he will never kill. And herein lies the issue, because Vash already feels like a monster because of July. Any deviation from the peace loving pacifist image he tries so hard to maintain brings Vash's self-loathing to the surface.
Ex. Vash sees the moon his angel arm blew a hole in and goes from denying culpability for the destruction of July to hardly resisting and calling himself a murderer.
Ex. Vash expresses that he holds murderous sentiment towards Hoppered. He sees this as a justifiable reason for Hoppered to kill him.
Even the thought that he has or could still deviate from his promise made in Rem's memory causes him immense amounts of shame. Vash does not want to harm people. Is it out of love? Is it out of guilt? I think at this point, there's no separating them. Vash doesn't kill out of a mix of these two emotions that are so intertwined in his core they have become inextricable.
The thing is... Vash's driving emotion appears to actually be anger, specifically, anger against Knives. He wants to "settle the score", which is a pretty retributive mentality for someone trying to embody pacifism. In fact, that kind of motivation strongly clashes with that image in a way that imo cannot coexist. It's reasonable in his mind to take that stance against Knives, who is not one of the humans Rem died to save, but against humans, it's unacceptable. So, Vash represses his anger constantly.
A great example of this is watching the contrast between Vash fighting Leonof and Wolfwood fighting Ninelives. Wolfwood fights with his emotions on visceral display; he is loud and cocky and desperate and violent. Vash, on the flip side, is almost dangerously quiet and composed, to the point Wolfwood seems a bit disturbed by it - but it's all repression. He needs to stay focused, his motions are calculated to reduce harm even against the puppets, he's eerily silent and his facial expressions are controlled and muted for the most part; all methods that Vash uses to stay in control (<- this is important!).
Here's the thing. I don't know that I necessarily, fully believe that Vash wants to kill Hoppered. I don't know that I trust anyone's narration in this scene - first of all, Hoppered is mad projecting his animosity onto Vash because he needs to secure the image of Vash as unrepentant destroyer of July; if Vash isn't the demon he believes him to be, his quest for revenge was for nothing (well, sort of. Vash obviously did destroy the city, but the intent was not there - and the latter seems to be what Hoppered is banking his hatred on). Hoppered earlier accused Vash of enjoying the fight... which is pretty clearly not true, so that it was Hoppered who prompted Vash's admittance above is a little suspect. Second, we've seen what Vash looks like when actually violently angry.
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(ID: Two separate images screenshotted from the Trigun manga. The first shows Vash raising his gun at a recently reborn Knives, angrily shouting the other's name. The second shows Vash having jammed the barrel of his gun into Monev's eye, clearly close to pulling the trigger. End ID.)
To me, I see little indication in the build up to this of Vash legitimately wanting to kill Hoppered. He had no desire to kill Rai-Dei after all, and that was after he knew the GHG were targeting Home. Hoppered is probably the most sympathetic of the GHG. Vash is also in a self-destructive mindset in this scene, having just called himself a murderer after seeing the damage done to the moon again.
Is he agreeing with Hoppered's projection because he wants Hoppered to continue to hate him enough to punish him for the deaths of all those people? (The image of Rem then becomes symbolic of his having already failed to uphold her sacrifice.) Or should I be taking his words at face value and he really does want to kill Hoppered? (In this case, the image of Rem is out of guilt for voicing something aloud that goes against his image of her.) Is it possible that a combination of his self-loathing in this scene and fear of himself has him agreeing with Hoppered out of resignation that despite his best efforts, he is doomed to destroy? (Like in fifth moon's "we were no good from the start". The image of Rem is thus the image of someone genuinely good and kind to him, an image he feels he cannot embody no matter how hard he tries.)
I find it very ambiguous honestly. Any interpretation is compelling from a character sense. Perhaps they all hold merit to some degree.
Regardless of how you interpret the line though, Vash is obviously angry, and for good reason - Hoppered, Midvalley and Zazie have taken Meryl. He's also likely afraid for her too - dude did jump out a window for like no practical purpose whatsoever before Zazie even finished talking. Like that's really sweet buddy but you accomplished absolutely nothing of use lol. Anyways. The point is, even if Vash was angry enough to want to kill Hoppered (and it would be for this reason, since nothing else would really warrant that), then that still wouldn't make Vash secretly evil and awful - first off, having a thought does not mean you will actually act on it, and second, what's the thing we keep getting shown and told, again and again?
Anyone will pick up a gun when their loved ones are threatened.
It's very natural to feel animosity for a person who may have harmed someone we care about. In that sense, Vash is behaving very human.
However, there's an extra layer here that complicates things. Vash has never been shy about his anger, but I think there is a bit of a progression of Vash kind of... tamping down on it faster, reeling it back in a little sooner after an initial flare of rage. ...Ever since Fifth Moon, actually. We also know that he has a strict training regimen, he does not miss a target, even blindfolded - Vash clearly maintains strong control over himself, all to mitigate the potential damage he could cause.
But then there's his Plant abilities. The angel arm. Something destructive he clearly does not understand, and has little if any control over (never mind that control was literally wrenched away from him but whatever). I don't think it's a stretch to say Vash is terrified of losing control.
Any human can feel hatred and anger and potentially cause moderate amounts of harm and damage, but these are likely to be targeted and can be more easily contained. Vash feels hatred and anger and has the capacity to level a city and blow a hole in a celestial body in the blink of an eye, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. That must be terrifying.
Because, see, the no-killing thing is out of respect for Rem, but Vash also strongly wants to, needs to believe that non-violent solutions are possible, that people are good, that anyone can change. Vash, out of some combination of love and guilt, does not actually want to harm anyone, but Vash is also a living gun just under the surface of his iron self-control. And being reminded of that deeply fucks him up, to the point he believes he is a danger by nature, incapable of living up to the standard of kindness he wants to put into the world, so even just the thought of wanting to inflict harm on another is enough to send him spiraling - because what if that is the point he loses his control? "I should never have been born" indeed...
It's interesting to me that Vash should call Wolfwood out on his lack of hope in a future for the world, when he so clearly has little if any hope in a future for himself. He allots himself no place in the world. Maybe you should allow yourself to heal a little, buddy. You have some people pretty close by who, in spite of it all, like you quite a lot...
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qtubbo · 2 months
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Still at Sunny unknowingly asking Tubbo if they could both die together, as he looks on in horror unable to do anything but play along.
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ohno-the-sun · 10 months
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I can kinda imagine sun just giving up and being like “fine you win” to moon
Like total full on depression and surrender
I like them depression moments (BUT NOT THEM DEATH MOMENTS-)
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This would near the end of one of the endings (which one is up to you)
I wonder what Moon would decide to do
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zeta-in-de-walls · 1 year
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Okay so Tommy's character has become addicted to invisibility potions because he's afraid of being in the spotlight.
... This is the complete opposite of Tommy's character from the start of the SMP. Tommy's character at the start of the SMP was absolutely hungry for attention. He feared being ignored and overlooked and that's part of why people found him annoying and why he was sometimes troublesome. He really wanted to be seen.
And now we've reached the point where he's afraid of attention. He fears being seen now because in his experience it brings pain. This is not a natural progression of character. This is a character who has been through traumatic experiences which has broken them in some way. Tommy should not be shy and reclusive. This is a Tommy who is full of fear and cannot be himself.
Now, Tommy's character has had suicidal thoughts in the past. We know he's contemplated his own death, usually in times where he's felt lonely and unloved. However, he also fears death very much. He is very much afraid of dying.
Being invisible is safe. No one can hurt you because they can't find you. Being invisible is also incredibly isolating because no can see you. And Tommy especially has always been a very relationship oriented character.
So it seems he's stuck a balance and found himself an unhappy status quo where he's not truly dead and yet not truly living either.
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thickenmyblood · 2 months
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I love HIUH and think about it often. Today I was thinking about Laurent and his experience with his own court-mandated therapy along with some of your recent tumblr comments.
Did he want to start therapy back when he did? I assume that if it was court-mandated it was a condition of him getting custody of Nicaise. Did he want to go on medication or did he resist? What would cause Paschal to recommend it? Damen mentioned early on in the story some fighting between Laurent and Nicaise when he first started living with them, so maybe that was it and it was worse than Damen and his rose-tinted glasses remembers.
I always assumed Laurent would be very pro-therapy (for Nicaise's well being and when he learned that Damen went too) but does he think the same thing for himself -- especially since you noted that this Laurent is very self-hating and was basically ok with being a target of Damen's unintended toxic masculinity. He also seemed to take the brunt of Agnes' well-meaning advise to him about him separating his life from Nicaise's and that ended up with Damen mad at him for not noticing what was happening.
It's all so interesting and I'd love to hear more if you can/want to share. Thank you!
hi!!!!!!!! i love these questions.
Did he want to start therapy back when he did? I assume that if it was court-mandated it was a condition of him getting custody of Nicaise.
no, he didn't want to do it, but at the same time I think of laurent as a very rational person, and so it would be hard for him to objectively say "I'm fine and don't need any kind of help" when he lost his entire family and was emotionally and sexually abused for years. it's my headcanon that he went into it thinking "I'll attend the required 20-something sessions and then I'm done", but he ended up liking paschal and also realizing he really needed the outlet (let's face it, he was NOT going to be talking to damen about any of that)
Did he want to go on medication or did he resist? What would cause Paschal to recommend it? Damen mentioned early on in the story some fighting between Laurent and Nicaise when he first started living with them, so maybe that was it and it was worse than Damen and his rose-tinted glasses remembers.
there are a few mentions in the story about how negatively laurent thinks and feels about his mother. it's implied she also struggled with mental health issues and ended up needing some kind of treatment (meds, inpatient, etc.), which laurent doesn't seem very supportive of. it's my personal opinion that laurent doesn't want to end up like her, doesn't want to relate to her in that way, and he's already at a disadvantage because he was institutionalized as a teen. so . . . yes, I think he REALLY resisted going on meds.
as to why paschal recommended it . . . we don't see this in canon because the story ends in KR and that's it for them, basically, but I imagine that once things have settled, laurent abandons his hypervigilant state and in the new calm that follows is forced to deal with all the emotional things he did not have the time, space, comfort to do deal with before. which means actually FEELING your feelings. which means . . . going a bit insane. i did a lot of trimming when it comes to the flashbacks, but there was one I sort of regret taking out because it showed laurent right before going on meds. he's in and out all the time, in public and when he's alone, and damen doesn't really notice how bad it is until they're having a conversation that borders on suicidal ideation.
“Disappear,” Damen said. “Like a vacation?” Laurent stopped scrubbing his hands. “No.” “The school year doesn’t end for another three months.” “The school year?” Damen frowned then, because— “Unless you don’t want to take Nicaise?” “Nicaise,” Laurent said, like he was hearing the name for the first time. He went back to scrubbing.
it's also mentioned in the fic that laurent has trouble sleeping. so, it's a nice combo of years of pent-up shame and self-hatred, anxiety and stress over the new responsibility of raising a kid, guilt over what happened to said kid, a baseline of depression, issues with your partner because you don't know how to be vulnerable and he's a bit too oblivious sometimes . . . yeah. laurent and nicaise's arguments def pushed laurent over the edge, too, because back then nicaise was still pretty much team uncle, which in turn brought up a lot of trauma for laurent since they're mirror characters in the fic.
i loved this ask!!! thank you for reading the story and reaching out!! i hope this reply was worth your time.
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