#suicidal theme

[ddwweebbii]

2022.12.20

[beebopurr]

Posting the entirety of my original "prologue" comic here because I think the story beats still hold up even if I'm not exactly a fan of how it looks

[mrs-gauche]

So I have seen several people now playing with the idea that Rook might've actually died at the ritual site and that whatever happened there with their blood and their connection to the Fade/Solas/the Dread Wolf pride demon was something similar to what we know of demon/spirit possession that can bring people back to life...... which would be absolutely insane to me, given what that could imply for the story and also how Solas feels about free will and abominations and... you know, all of that. 😂

BUT (and this is probably the most tinfoily I'm gonna get at this point lol)....

Between THIS and *checks notes*...

The short story "The Wake" implying that Lucanis died some time after The Wigmaker Job, him being called "The Demon" and all the pride demon imagery in his design/tarot card, having people suspect that he was brought back to life by a pride demon.

The devs saying "Manfred the skeleton is not romanceable, but we're not saying NO skeleton romance".

Harding suddenly having magical abilities.

There being something eerie about a lot of the companion tarot cards, mostly because of the glowy eyes that we often associate with possession.

....so I'm just gonna put the tinfoil hat back on and conclude that all this clearly has to mean that.. uh...

Everyone is dead...?

And they're all abominations now, which means that somehow all of them have a connection to some powerful spirit/demon that brought them back to life to join Rook on this final mission to save the world. 😂

Or something like that, Idk, the heat is clearly getting to me. lmaoo 💀

[lgbtlunaverse]

I feel like too often people frame Nie Mingjue's issues as ignorance borne from safety. Like, they think that because of his privilege as a sect leader he doesn't know what it's like to be in danger and forced to make hard choices to survive. And I disagree. Strongly.

First of all, Nie Mingjue is very familiar with death not only from war but from. You know. Actively dying since the age of fourteen. Let us not forget Nie Mingjue is dead! Super dead! And maybe he didn't die the exact way he expected to but he did, absolutely, know he was going to die. To act like Nie Mingjue is unfamiliar with the scenario of "do something you find morally reprehensible or die" is to ignore that he has been living that exact scenario and chose death.

Nie Mingjue knows death is a risk for someone like Jin guangyao, in fact he explicitly acknowledges it even in his worst moments like the stairs in chapter 49. Had his issue been ignorance, then he would've responded to Jin Guangyao saying that he's in danger and has to sacrifice others for his own safety with "No you aren't you'll be fine." But he doesn't. He accepts the fact that jgy is in danger with no qualms and says: then you should die.

That's not him betraying his values, those are his values. He is, essentially, pro-suicide. Jgy is like hey I have a moral dilemma what should I do and nmj straight up goes "Kill yourself" and earlier that same chapter when he was faced with a moral dilemma he went "I'm gonna kill myself." He believes the solution to moral dilemmas is suicide! He is extremely consistent about this! When it's pointed out to him that it would have been dangerous for Wen Qing to oppose Wen Ruohan it doesn't phase him because he thinks putting yourself at risk to do the right thing is the only moral choice. The idea that he can only hold this belief because he is himself somehow not in danger, again, requires you to ignore that he is dying the whole time. And it doesn't deter him. He is the idea of self-sacrifice as a moral good taken to its absolute logical extreme. Someone who is ready to die and demands the same from everyone else.

It makes him a very fun case study for fandom, because a lot of fandom spaces also tend to revere self-sacrifice as the ultimate good, and yet we get very uncomfortable when someone starts demanding it of characters we love. Like woah, hold on, that's a bit too far isn't it? Only we the audience get to do that!

[taeetimee]

Genetic grief

[rottendust]

Everything I got on vacation 💒

[chrliekclly]

[citricjoy]

the passenger (2023) is such a crazy watch from a place of passive suicidal ideation because benson feels so firmly in that camp at the beginning especially on a second watch, like suicidality feels like such a driving force for him. from the moment he has randy in the car all i can see is someone who has had idle fantasies for so long about ending his own life finally seeing the end coming near and he’s fucking ecstatic. like yes! i’m finally gonna be done with this shit, AND i got to help someone on the way out! he’s found this purpose in ‘helping’ randy and he comes at it so manically because he’s just gotta get this shit done and then he can fuck off into a pine box and stop dragging out his wasted life!… but then sheppard happens. and ms. beard happens. and the cops show up. and that fantasy is ripped away, and all benson can do is laugh at what a fucking idiot he was, thinking he’d grow up to be fucking anything at all.

[xx-akubara-xx]

MEGA POST: Prisoner AU - Part 1

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Page 20

- Part 1: You're here! Part 2: N/A

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Click here for next page (N/A)

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Master Post of Comics

[2bu]

don't engage with the 'mouthwashing fandom', worst mistake of my fucking lifeeeee

[silverior968]

"Made a pact with you and God: "If you don't move I swear to you I'm going to make you""

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Ratchet from TFP, pictured from the shoulders and up. The background is a grainy gradient of dull purple and yellow. Ratchet is drawn with a pensive expression, looking slightly upwards with glass shards flying around him. He looks different through the glass where it is flying over him, namely one of his eyes and part of the other, one corner of his mouth and his chest, with his eyes green instead of cyan, green energon stained across the corner of his mouth and falling down his chin, and with the edge of a large wound on his chest. The artist's signature, Silverior968, is written along his collar. The drawing takes inspiration from the music video for Manchester Orchestra's "The Alien", which is also the origin of the lyric used as the post's title. / End ID]

[wyrdle]

Deceiver - "Why do you waste your time searching for a reason to live in this broken world? There's no point to it at all!"

Quick shuji ikutsuki doodle

[knific]

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔫 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 - 𝔐𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔵

[l0vergirlatheart]

Mandela catalogue but instead of gabriel its sunday sdmddnfdn

aughhhh sorry this has been marinating in my inbox for so long... but this is so real... quick yap section

tw ; uncanny themes, murder, alternates, I DO NOT SUPPORT ALEX KISTER!!, reader is a janitor at the church so you can choose if you're religious or not, but there is religious themes, suicide, death in the end

That man in the corner of your church. You're sure he's a freak, he's uncanny.. he's unnerving. Smile plastered on his face constantly.

He's even there after hours, when you're wiping down the pews.

You've heard he's nice, polite, gentle. But there's something off about him.

A savior, your mind comes up with as you see him helping out those in need or dire situations.

But he isn't, and he knows you're catching on.

Perhaps that's why he tries to get closer to you, and eventually you hesitantly allow him to hand around you.

Going to a cafe? Let him come with.

Break time? Spend it with him, he's got stories to share.

Off work? Go take a walk with him, won't you?

It's annoying, unnerving, freakish. You don't like it, how it feels borderline stalking, only you're aware of it.

Worst comes to worst, he's decided you know too much and not enough at the same time. He's outside your window one rainy night, you're supposed to be asleep.

He taps on it to stir you. When you do look at him, he's not really Sunday. He's staring at you, eyes a bit too wide to be normal, eyes black instead of their usual golden, and he's still smiling.

It's too wide to be human, you know. But his hand breaks through the window by the time you scramble out of bed, and he's already inside the house when you lock yourself in the bathroom.

He tries to coax you out of it, and he knows it'll only be a matter of time. A human cannot be alone forever.

I'm your savior, he promises. He won't hurt you, he swears.

Humans are flawed, he whispers through the door, eye staring through the keyhole creepily.

I can fix you, he promises, smile too wide to be comforting.

I can fix humanity, he swears as the door slowly creaks open.

You can trust me, the barrel of the gun you point at him doesn't even bother him in the slightest.

Listen to me, he cooes as he shifts the direction of the gun you hold towards yourself.

I will save you all, he smiles as the gun eventually goes off.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

no more runnin'

demon!joel miller x f!reader

words: 468

summary: joel comes to collect what you owe him.

warnings: dead dove do not read, major character death (reader), implied suicide, christian concepts of life and death, description of a self-inflicted wound, I wrote this because I needed a good cry and I was processing some feelings that I needed to feel even though they were painful.

PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU READ THE WARNINGS.

viewer discretion is advised. you are responsible for the media you consume.

If you or someone you know is in crisis Call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 (para ayuda en español, llame al 988). The Lifeline provides 24-hour, confidential support to anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He found you there. He had a habit of being places he shouldn’t, seeing things he wasn’t supposed to see. Of finding people who didn’t want to be found. 

That was why he was there, after all. He had come calling for what he was owed. And you were finally ready to pay up. 

“No more runnin’, huh?” Joel asked, crouching down. He reached out, brushing your cheek with the back of his knuckles. 

“No more runnin’,” you rasp. 

“Coulda just told me,” he said, picking up your limp hand and inspecting the weeping wound below it. “I never said it hadta be painful. Coulda gone in your sleep.”

You manage a half shrug. “Maybe I wanted to say goodbye.”

He sighs, looking down at the damp concrete. “I would have given ya that, too,” he says. 

You close your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears, but they slip free anyway. He brushes them away with a swipe of his thumb. 

“Ah, shit,” he mutters. “It’s alright. I got ya. You’re not alone.”

He sits down beside you against the brick wall and pulls you into his arms. “This is why I don’t give extra time,” he murmurs into your hair. “It’s always harder, sweetheart.”

“My own damn fault,” you say, a shaky laugh through tears. “Goin’ and fallin’ for the fuckin’ demon I sold my soul to.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly discourage ya, did I? But you know I can’t… I don’t…”

“I know,” you whisper. “No heart. Part of the whole arrangement. I don’t believe it for a second.”

“You’re a foolish girl,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it. “I was gonna give you a pass. Gonna risk my fuckin’ neck to send you off to someplace better. But you’ve gone and condemned yourself, darlin.’ Why would you do this?”

“You’ll be there,” you admit. 

“Ah, darlin’,” he said, voice strained. “You ain’t gonna remember me. I’m sorry.”

“Will you remember me?” You ask, voice cracking. Your breathing is shallow, unsteady. 

He knows it’s almost time. He tilts your chin up, pressing his lips to yours. It’s slow and tender, nothing like the rushed and frantic clash of flesh and teeth that you’re used to.

“I could never forget you,” he assures. It’s true, but you can’t be sure. Like he’d say anything else right now, give you anything other than what you need to hear in this moment. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, cradling your head to his chest. “You can close your eyes. I’ll stay with ya.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Your lids are heavy, burdened by tear-laden lashes and too many years, too many losses. You relax against him, feeling the press of his lips on the top of your head once, twice, thrice, until you feel no more.