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#cw sui ideation
the-bitter-ocean · 2 days
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(MAJOR 2HATS/ A6SE + SASASAP TRUE END SPOILERS under the cut) ICAC au writing drabbles based on @tealgoat and @eurydice-pens awesome fanart they both did of my au In Cycles and Cessation!
{{ You wake up in Dormont.}}
{{….!!!!}}
{{The sun is so bright you can hardly register it as real. }}
{{Everyone is roaming around happily without a care in the world.}}
{{ You’re sitting on the bench outside the storefront.}}
{{ The papers are in your hands again. }}
{{One of the villagers approach you. They wave and smile happily. }}
“Good luck against stopping the King, Mirabelle! We know you and the saviors will prevail!”
{{ You smile and wave back. }}
{{You ignore how your hands are shaking. }}
{{You grip the papers tightly. You crumple it into a ball and toss it. }}
{{ You get up from your seat and run.}}
{{Past the change god statue. }}
{{Past all the villagers who adore you when they have no good reason to. }}
{{You don’t bother greeting any of your party members either.}}
{{You need to be alone.}}
{{You go into the forest clearing and practically collapse unto the ground.}}
{{You start to cry.}}
{{You pray and pray and pray and pray for this to be over. }}
{{You cant do this anymore! }}
{{You curl up on the ground and scream. }}
{{You don’t want to do this again! The first time you ever beat the king- finally something new happened in your short pitiful existence and it couldn’t save you!}}
{{You tug on your curls until you feel a dull pain at the sides of your head.}}
{{ The power of friendship couldn’t save you! You weren’t chosen! You weren’t special! }}
{{You wish for someone to help you escape!}}
{{You can’t bare to die again. To watch your friends get hurt again. To see everyone frozen- your home permanently cursed to stagnation! }}
{{You wish for someone to understand you!}}
{{The loops were lonely and scary. You had no one to talk to who knew what you were going through!}}
{{And the minute you thought.. t-thought that maybe you found hope it was taken from you! Why? Why why why-}}
{{You wish you could change into someone who could actually save your home!!!}}
{{You…!}}
{{…?!}}
{{ You stare at the moon shaped object in your hands. }}
{{ You look around confused as to who or what gave you this form of divine intervention- if it would even work at all to begin with.}}
{{….}}
{{You’re in no position to reject it or be skeptical. }}
{{ You’re helpless. }}
{{ You can only do so much on your own before everything falls apart. }}
{{ You hold the crescent close to your chest. }}
{{ You thought it would burn you but it’s surprisingly soothing. }}
{{Siffrin talked about the item that’s currently in your hands a long time ago.}}
{{You didn’t get it half the time but you listened anyway because it made him happy. }}
{{…..}}
{{The moon will never be as bright as the sun. }}
{{It’s only capable of reflecting the light and warmth from the suns rays. }}
{{It has nothing to shine with on its own. }}
{{…It suits you.}}
{{ You slowly bring the crescent to your mouth and devour it whole. }}
{{ You. Feel. A. Tug. On. Your. Heart. And. You-}}
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neil-gaiman · 8 months
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I wanted to say, because you're the easiest person to thank for this - I've always struggled with suicidal thoughts (I promise this isn't *too* dark). But after watching GOS2, I've noticed whenever my head starts drifting to that bad place, I start hearing Crowley's little Scottish drunk-off-Laudanum voice going "noooo dying. No dying!" And it helps more than years of therapy ever did. So I guess thank you for writing that, and also thank David Tennant for delivering that.
I'm proud of you!
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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months
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yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]
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Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own
Internet consumption!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.
First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.
Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.
With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)
Part Two
Part Three
Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought. 
He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself. 
The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark. 
God’s Beloved. 
The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes. 
The Holiest Woman in the World.
There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff. 
 Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance. 
Yes, you were the Reverend Sister  but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place. 
The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself  even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes. 
His Eyes that you now possessed. 
No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.
You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision. 
Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe. 
He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever. 
One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a  strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther. 
“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.” 
Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?
No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister. 
Something is not right. 
He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir. 
If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.
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You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision. 
All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight,  vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it? 
This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return. 
Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take. 
That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser. 
Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?
If the sight of seeing this Affection Level  and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target. 
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Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”
Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor. 
You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist. 
Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered. 
“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.
 “Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”
Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation. 
May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.
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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
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needle-noggins · 10 months
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(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.
I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!
Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.
So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.
It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.
Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!
Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:
Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.
Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.
The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??
Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!
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reasonsforhope · 6 months
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I can't take the state of the world anymore, every day things constantly get worse and there's literally nothing we can do. Every time things get better they're immediately undone by forces more powerful than us. I just want things to go back to the way they were before when it felt like there was hope, now it feels like humanity is doomed and will never, ever get better. I just want to die so I can finally know peace from this evil.
Hey. I'm really, really sorry you're having such a hard time. That sounds like an incredibly painful headspace to be in.
Please find someone you can talk to and who can help you - whether that's a peer counselor or a good friend or a trained mental health professional. Especially a trained mental health professional, if you can. You can find a really thorough list of crisis hotlines listed by country here.
Also, I realllllly recommend getting off any websites or social media that are contributing to you feeling like this, or at least block all the people/tags posting things that are making you feel like this. Negativity bias is real - the news/internet doesn't accurately reflect the world and neither does the way your brain perceives it
In the meantime, a few quick words/facts of comfort. I hope they can give you at least some reassurance or solace.
We literally have more reason to hope we can solve climate change than ever before x
Starting about six months ago, major international energy reports have come out for the first time showing that we have a visible, concrete path to staying under 1.5 degrees celsius x
Twenty, even ten years ago, scientists talked about whether we could possibly manage to limit global warming to 4 or 5 degrees Celsius. Now, those numbers aren't even on the map - we're talking 1.5 or 2 degrees Celsius. We've cut expected warming in half in under a decade x
Renewable energy is growing so exponentially it's now "unstoppable" x
Two hundred years ago, in 1800, there wasn't a single "liberal democracy" - a democracy that gives all citizens the right to vote - on the planet. Just over one hundred years ago, in 1900, there were five of them. Today, roughly half the countries (aka roughly 100) on the planet fall into this category. International politics is so often two steps forward, one step back, but this is actually an astonishing pace of progress in the grand scheme of things x
For all of human history, until just over 200 years ago, roughly half of all children died. Across times, across cultures. Half of all children died by the age of 15. Half of them. Today, globally, that same child mortality rate is only 4%. We did that. We changed what was previously an eternal, inescapable, and horrific condition of human existence, and we are going to keep making that rate go down x
Two steps forward, one step back, is still moving forward. There are so, so, so many reasons that we are not already doomed. There are so many reasons to think the future is going to be bright
To anyone struggling with thoughts like this: please, please give yourself the chance to see it
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0ddoblivion · 4 months
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Quick doodle of a little guy feelin fine
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niinnyu · 1 month
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Bodies and Souls - part 1/2
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Part 2
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s0fti3w1tch · 8 months
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Trainee's Request
cw in tags
Audio: Kingdom Hearts: Birth By Sleep (Time Stamp 5:01:55 of this video)
My friend convinced me into Birth By Sleep (I've only ever gotten into KH1 & 2) and I got to this part and went "ow" and "Ah, perfect"
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shyjusticewarrior · 2 months
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DC Comics Incorrect Quotes Pt 255
Tim: You don't want Jason to die, and I don't want Jason to die. Now we just gotta make sure Jason doesn't want Jason to die.
Barbara: Fantastic plan, but have you met Jason?
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top-egg-1337 · 4 months
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just wanted to throw my hat in with everyone else immeasurably pissed off about the Gale section of That Interview.
Yes this is all projection, no I don't fucking care. CW for suicidal ideation etc etc
Gale killing himself is not the "right ending". Not only is it ridiculous to suggest that such a concept exists for a game with as many permutations as BG3, it's also blatantly affirming that suicide is A Good Choice, Actually, for people with disabilities (including neurodivergence and mental illnesses).
Like Gale, I talk way too much about the things I'm passionate about to the point where people find me annoying. Like Gale, I fumble social interactions a lot. Like Gale, I have never had many friends. Like Gale, if I fall for someone, it happens fast and I'm super awkward about it until I feel secure with them. Like Gale, I have made mistakes that felt catastrophic. Like Gale, my continued survival relies on assistance from others and this makes me feel like a burden. Like Gale, I have spent extended periods of my life thinking I was better off dead.
If any of these ring true for you, first of all...
Fuck, lads(gender neutral), we're really playing through life on honour mode huh? it couldn't be fucking easy...
Secondly, asking for help, and being vulnerable enough to accept that help, is a bigger show of strength than Minsc climbing out of a mimic.
Thirdly, you really, truly, are not better off dead. If you read that and think I'm lying to make you feel better, I get it. I've felt that way countless times. But there are countless moments for your life to improve, and those moments die the moment you do.
I didn't think I'd make it to 20. I'm 27 now. I'm married, and we're in the process of buying a house. We have a delightfully grumpy dog who we recued 4 years ago. He's 14 now.
It's still hard. This year felt impossible at times. I thought I'd finally got my life on track after starting ADHD meds, started my first ever full-time job, and had to quit after 3 months - 2 of those months being on sick leave.
I felt mortified. Everything I'd worked for crumbled, what even was the point in trying to improve myself if I couldn't trust my body or mind to keep their shit together when it mattered most?
But here I am. And weirdly, I'm maybe the happiest I've ever been, despite being in the middle of months of medical investigations where cancer is a real possibility.
I often felt like it was my destiny to kill myself.
Fuck destiny.
As Elminster said:
Be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.
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tkwrites · 17 days
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I'll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc
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Photo from Pinterest via Bauer Hockey
Title: I’ll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC) 
Summary: When an opportunity for Quinn to meet her uncle arrives, Sarah jumps at the chance, and they attend a St. Patrick's Day party at her uncle's house on Salt Spring Island. On the ferry ride back home, Sarah finally explains why she had to be close to family after her mothers death, necessitating her move to Vancouver. 
Warnings: Mentions of depression, grief, and meeting new family. Talks of suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. No attempts or methods are described or discussed. 
Word Count: 5,600
Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for a long time. In many ways, it's extremely self-indulgent. I loved writing the banter between Sarah and her uncle Travis, and it was very healing for me to write about Sarah’s experiences after her mothers death. 
Sarah’s experiences are very similar to the experiences I had after losing my father. My dad died three years ago in September, and I have not experienced any kind of suicidal ideation for over a year and a half. While I was in the thick of it, it felt like I was always going to be stuck in that darkness. The other side of that chasm is so beautiful and so worth the work it took to get here. 
I was very lucky that I already had a therapist who could refer me to a specialist and friends and family who cared very deeply about me and my mental well-being. Seeing a psychiatrist to get on medication was one of the best decisions I ever made.
If you are having or have thoughts like these in the future, please, please talk to a friend and a professional to get help. The world is such a better place with you in it. xx
I’ll Be Proud For You 
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
Sarah grabbed Quinn's wrist as he walked toward the kitchen. “Do you have plans for St. Patrick's Day?” 
“I think Garly's having a party. Why?” 
“My uncle Travis always hosts a dinner party since we’re Irish, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me.” 
“Sure.” 
A smile took over her whole face, and he was instantly glad he agreed. 
Internally, though, his heart was racing. Her uncle was the closest family she had nearby. When she first moved to the city, she'd lived with him for a year. She still went to his house at least two Sundays a month. Quinn knew they were close.
At least he had three days to mentally prepare. 
“It’s a bit of a drive - they live on Saltspring, so we have to take the ferry.”
“Just means I get to spend more time with you,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, I like it over there.”
Her smile got bigger, and he swore his knees got a little weak. God, what wouldn’t he do for that smile?
“Is there anything I should do to prepare?” he asked, sitting next to her.
“Just wear something green. And don't wear anything that says 'Kiss me, I'm Irish' unless you actually want to be kissed.”
“Wouldn't mind being kissed by you,” he said with a wink. 
Laughing, she leaned over and obliged. 
He instantly wished they weren't at the dining room table so he could lay her out and kiss her like he meant it. 
A few minutes later, the nagging feeling of neglecting her studying won out, and Sarah pulled away. “I'm sorry,” she said, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, “I really need to finish this. Give me thirty minutes?” 
“Then you're mine for the night?” 
She nodded. 
“Okay.” He kissed her forehead and wandered to the kitchen to make dinner. 
As she left school for the aquarium the next day, Sarah called her uncle Travis.
“Hey, Sar, how are you doing?” 
“Good. How are you, Trav?” 
“Great. Samson started crawling on Tuesday.”
“What? No.”
“Yep.” 
“I refuse to believe he’s crawling already.” 
“I know. It’s the worst. What’s up?” 
“I just wanted to let you know I'm bringing someone with me on Sunday.”
“One of your roommates?”
“No, someone I'm seeing.”
He actually seemed to choke on whatever he was drinking and coughed a few times before asking, “I'm sorry, what?”
“We've been going out for a while, and I want him to meet everyone.”
“How long is a while?” 
“Two and a half months.” 
“And you were going to tell us when?”
“I was waiting to see how serious it would be.”
“And it's serious?”
“I think it’s headed that way. I want to see what you think of him.” 
“What's his name?”
“Quinn.” 
“How did you meet?”
“At the aquarium,” she said,  “he asked me out to lunch, and we've been dating ever since.” 
“He lives in the city?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Is there anything I should know about him?” 
“Just that I really like him. Please promise you won't embarrass me.”
“No can do. That's what uncles are for, but I can promise I won't pull out your baby pictures.”
“You don't even have my baby pictures.”
“Precisely. Otherwise, I probably would.”
Rolling her eyes, she asked what she could bring to dinner. After deciding she would bring the soda bread and butter, they hung up, and she sent the plan to Quinn.  
Great. When should I pick you up?
I'm driving, so I'll come get you. 
You have a car? 
Technically, it's my uncles, but I haven't driven in forever, so I’m calling transportation on this one.
He laughed. Tocc canceled practice tomorrow so we can leave whenever. 
I'll pick you up at 1 then? 
What time is dinner? 
5, but the drive over is 2 and a half hours, and I like to be there a little early to help out. 
“Why does your uncle keep a car here?” Quinn asked as he buckled his seatbelt.
“I have parking included with my apartment, so it just made sense. I drop it off at the Ferry terminal once or twice a month for Trev when he has to come to the mainland for work.” 
“I didn’t know that. Let me know next time and I’ll give you a ride home.” 
She shot a grateful smile at him before looking back to the road.
It was a strange thing for Quinn to be a passenger. He was usually the one driving, and rarely got the chance to watch her for such a long period of time uninterrupted.
He was taken with her. With the constellation of freckles on her cheeks and the button of her nose, and the round swell of her bottom lip. He wondered if anyone would notice if they just made out on the ferry ride over. She didn’t have tinted windows. Probably not the best idea.
She was wearing the same green dress she’d worn when Brady came to town. It still looked beautiful and soft, and he still couldn’t stop the fantasies of stripping it off her from clouding his mind. 
“How was your morning?”
“Fine.” he scrubbed his hands over his face, “It’s nice to have a day off.” 
“I bet,” she said, reaching over to entwine her fingers with his. 
They held hands until they hit traffic and she had to get back to the gear shift.
He’d never driven a manual transmission, and he was impressed by her seamless shifting, despite the fact that she was a bit of a terrifying driver. He found himself reaching for the door handle more than once as she weaved in and out of traffic and went a little too fast for his liking.
“How was your day?” he asked to distract himself.
“Good. I did some reading and finished up some assignments I’d put off from earlier in the week.” 
“I didn’t know you were capable of putting things off,” he teased. 
She snorted and threw him a sarcastic look. 
“You’re so organized, I didn’t think you could.”
Quinn had seen her planner once. It was the size of a college notebook with a column for every day of the week. Each of her classes was assigned a different color, and every day was an organized riot: hours blocked for class, work, assignments, tests, and readings to be completed. He didn’t know how she got it all done. He was exhausted just reading it. Then, he’d smiled when he realized he was there. She had all his games and their plans and dates written in sparkly blue ink. 
“I still miss things. Sunday is my catchup day,” she explained. “Usually, I sleep in and do my homework on the ferry over and back, but I wanted to have it done early so I could spend the time with you.”
“It would have been okay,” he said. 
The smile she gave him made his heart patter against his lungs. That, along with a stop so sudden, the seatbelt engaged to snap him back, made it a little hard to breathe. 
“Thank you, but I would rather spend this time with you.” 
His heart warmed at the gesture, and her willingness to give up her one morning to sleep in to spend time with him.
Once on the ferry, they stayed in the car and talked instead of going up on deck. He told her about practice and trying to push aside his nerves about making the playoffs, “Everyone keeps talking about it like it’s a guarantee.” 
“Well, you are second in the league.”
“Yeah, but so much could change. I don’t want to get my hopes up, and the media asks about it practically every day. I’m getting so tired of telling them, ‘that’s what we’re aiming for, and we have a group that can get there.’” He threw his voice into a self-depricating, exaggerated version of itself. 
Despite her attempt to stifle it down, a giggle spilled out of her mouth. “I think they’re probably asking because it’s going to happen.” 
“We don’t know that. Demmer’s out, and we haven’t been doing great…” he trailed off. 
“You’re still first in the Pacific by almost 10 points, Quinn. Can’t you celebrate that for a minute?” 
He sighed, “it’s just… so much can change in a month, and I don’t want to be the guy who talks about how good it will be to play in the playoffs only to have his team not make it. I’d be a laughing stock on the internet for the rest of time and a lesson to all other captains to not jinx it.”
“I’d never considered it that way.” 
He made a noise of ascent in his throat. 
“You can celebrate it with me, though, right?” she asked, lacing their fingers together.
Quinn wanted to agree, he really did, but the superstitious part of his mind went to war against it. The result was a kind of half-hearted grimace.
Laughter burst from her. “Fine, fine. You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just be proud for you,” she said, bringing his hand to her mouth so she could kiss his knuckles. 
His stomach did a jerking little jig, and a real smile spread over his face. 
Eventually, their conversation turned to her uncle. 
“Trav is a sound engineer, and he toured with Brooks & Dunn for a long time. He moved to Vancouver because he said it’s the most beautiful city he’s been to.” 
“I would agree with that,” Quinn said. 
“Now he stays at home with their kids. Trevor is a copyright lawyer.”
“Oh, your uncle’s gay,” he said with a spark of understanding. 
“Is that a problem?” Sarah asked, raising her brows. 
“No, of course not. I was just confused. You mentioned Trav and Trev, and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing his name wrong or what.” 
When they pulled off the ferry, Sarah turned onto a small two lane road, running away from town. It didn’t look like anything was out here except forest and pebble beaches. 
Sarah had an incredible inherent sense of direction - the kind he had to rely on his phone GPS for - so he knew they weren’t lost, but he couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like civilization.
When they turned onto a small driveway tucked right into the woods, drove up a hill, and pulled in front of a home that looked more like a cabin than a house, Quinn wasn’t too shocked. 
“What a view,” he said as they got out of the car. 
Despite the drizzly weather, the horizon was still stunning. The gray blue water of the Salish Sea seemed to melt into the rolling, gray clouds, making them indistinguishable except where pine covered islands rose out of the water, vibrantly green against all the neutral colors. The city skyline cut a dark, jagged edge across the water. If the commute wasn’t so long, he would live out here, too.
“I know, right?” she said, picking up a tote bag and taking his hand to lead him up to the front door.
“Hey Trav,” she said, embracing him as soon as the door was opened. “Trav, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is my uncle Travis,” she introduced when they broke apart
Other than the fact that he had her same bright blue eyes, her uncle didn’t look anything like he’d expected. Quinn had braced himself to meet a middle-aged man who was around his dads age. Instead, Travis looked no more than ten years older than Sarah. The oldest looking thing about him was his gray hair, which was casually swept back in that effortless way Quinn’s hair could never quite manage. He wore jeans and a green band t-shirt without socks or shoes. His toenails and fingernails were painted various shades of green. 
 “It's nice to meet you, sir,” Quinn said as they shook hands. If he wasn’t so used to seeing it, he would have missed the way Travis’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.
“Just call me Travis,” he said with a snort, trying to cover his shock. “No one has ever called me, sir in my life. Come on in.”
Trying to catch her eye as they passed, Travis wondered how, when he’d asked if there was anything he should know about this guy she was bringing, Sarah didn’t think the fact that he was Quinn Hughes was something he ought to know. She didn’t notice, and he dropped it before Quinn did.
“Beara!” a little girl yelled as she ran toward them. “Beara! Beara!”  She had curly pigtails, each tied with a green bow that flopped as she ran. 
“Sawyer!” Sarah caught her before they collided, picking her up and swinging her around. “I missed you,” she said, pulling the little girl against her chest. 
Putting her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, she said, “missed you more.” 
When she noticed Quinn, she turned her face away from him and put her thumb in her mouth, suddenly shy.
“Sawyer, this is my friend, Quinn,” she said, turning so they could make eye contact. 
“Hi, Sawyer,” he said. “I like your ribbons.” 
She smiled around her thumb at him. She had those same bright blue eyes, though they were slightly wider than Travis or Sarah’s. 
“What do you say to that?” her father coached gently.
“Thank you.” she didn’t take her thumb out of her mouth when she said it, so it was a little garbled, but he got the idea.
Sarah set her down, and she ran back to the kitchen, squealing when Travis chased her down the hallway. 
“Beara?” Quinn asked, humor in his eyes as she took his hand, following after them.
“My whole life, my nickname has been Sar Bear. When she was younger, Sawyer had a hard time saying her S’s, so she started calling me Beara instead of Sarah, and it just kind of stuck.” 
He snorted, “oh god, the guys are going to have a heyday with that.” 
“With what?” 
“You know how they call me Huggy Bear sometimes?”
She nodded. 
“Huggy Bear and Sar Bear?” He snorted, “I mean, come on.” 
The house, while rustic on the outside, was homey on the inside. Neutral gray walls and a modern, light kitchen. It seemed the whole back half of the house was made of glass, giving a perfect view into the misty forest. It was beautiful, but Quinn wasn’t sure he’d want to be here at night to see what came out of those woods.
Sarah was laughing as she entered the kitchen, hand in hand with Quinn. The shock of Quinn Hughes being in his house, of Quinn Hughes dating his niece, who had always been more of a little sister to him, still had him reeling. 
Even through that startling revelation, Travis wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her so relaxed and happy since her parents died. The protective part of him held himself back from reading too much into it. The last thing Sarah needed in her life was more heartache.
“Quinn, this is my uncle Trevor.” 
“It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little busy,” he said, gesturing to the meat he was fishing out of a marinade. “I hope you like beef stew.” 
“Sounds great.” 
“And this,” Sarah picked a pudgy little boy up from his high chair, “is Samson.” 
Quinn held a hand out to the little boy, who wrapped his tiny fingers around one of Quinn’s as he smiled and babbled. Samson looked more like Trevor. He had dark curly hair, dark eyes, and smooth olive skin. Quinn wondered if each of them had fathered an embryo for a surrogate. 
“Can I get you a beer?” Travis asked. 
“Sure.” 
“We only have Guinness today.” 
“I wouldn’t expect anything else. It’s the Irish way, right?” 
Laughing, he handed the can off to Quinn before turning to Sarah. “Hey, can you help me find the barley?” 
He knew he was being obvious as he pulled her into the pantry, but he hoped this was a little less obvious than pulling her back into the living room would be. At least he had an excuse for her help this way. 
As he shut the door behind them, he heard Quinn ask, “is there anything I can help with?” 
Travis clicked the light on. They were standing nearly chest to chest in the tiny room, baby Samson squished between them. He didn’t seem to mind as he continued to babble, reaching out for the brightly colored packages. 
“You didn’t tell me you were dating Quinn Hughes!” he hissed. 
“You know who he is?”
“Everyone in this entire province knows who Quinn Hughes is, Sarah.” 
“I didn’t when we met.” 
“That doesn’t surprise me.” 
“Why not?” If she didn’t have a baby in her arms, she would have folded them over her chest. 
“You’re too busy learning stuff to pay attention to things like that. He was all over the news for three weeks when they put him in as Captain this fall. Plus, you only care about football.” 
“I do not. Well, not anymore, at least,” she said, catching Samson’s hand before he could pull a box of pasta off the shelf. “Anyway, why does it matter that he’s Quinn Hughes?” 
“He’s - I mean,” Travis blew a harsh breath out of his nose. “When you said you met at the aquarium, I thought he was some guy who works there, not the captain of the fucking Vancouver Canucks!”
“He's just a guy, Trav. He just happens to play hockey for a living.” 
His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to realize he couldn't argue against that point. “He’s a pro athlete, Sarah.” 
“So?”
“So, they’re gone all the time, and the money fucks with their heads and pretty soon they’re all cheating on their partners.”
One of her eyebrows arched up, “do you only watch reality TV, or do you sometimes deviate to Lifetime?” 
Despite himself, he laughed. “I just mean,” he paused, glancing down at his green fingernails. Sawyer had insisted on painting them and pulled out every shade of green polish in the house, determined to use them all. “I don’t want you to get hurt. He treats you well?” 
“Yes. Very well. I wouldn’t keep dating him or bring him to meet you if he didn’t. He's actually the best guy I've ever dated,” she added. 
Travis's eyebrows shot into his gray hairline. 
“Just spend some time with him. You'll see. He’s really thoughtful and nice.” 
“Okay, but I’m having a talk with him by the end of the night.” 
“No.”
“Listen, I just need to make sure he’s good enough for you.” 
“Don’t you think that’s something I can decide for myself?” 
“I’m just going to have a chat with him, man to man. You’re the one that wanted to know what I think of him,” he said. “It's happening whether you like it or not. I'm just letting you know.” 
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but don’t embarrass me. And none of that asking for permission bullshit. I'm not a possession.”
“Dont insult me,” Travis chided, smiling, loving seeing pieces of his oldest sister in Sarah. He was glad Becky had instilled those same, strong feminist values in her children. “Of course he doesn't need permission. I just care about you.”
“Thanks, Trav,” she said, touched. 
He pulled her into a hug, smooshing Samson between them more. He let out a tiny grunt.
“Here, take your baby,” she said, handing him off and grabbing a box of cookies as an alibi as she left. 
If Quinn thought anything was suspicious, he didn't let on, continuing to chop the lettuce Trevor had set him to preparing. 
“Teddy Graham?” Sarah asked, offering the box as she stood next to him at the long island.
“Sure.”
“Hey Sar, we were thinking about coming into the city for your birthday. I have to be in that day for a few meetings, so Trav was going to bring the kids on the ferry. Do you think that would work? We thought we could take you to dinner.” Trevor said, looking up from braising the beef. 
“Yeah, I would like that,” she said with a big smile.
As he walked back into the kitchen, Travis caught Quinn’s wide-eyed expression. 
“When’s your birthday?” he asked, tipping the lettuce into a bowl.
“On April third.” 
He gulped. It was a gesture Travis immediately recognized as a man grappling for a purchase with new information.
 Quinn pulled out his phone and quietly breathed, “we’re in Arizona that day.”
“I know,” Sarah said with a smile that tried but didn’t totally succeed in covering her disappointment. 
Something about it made Travis’ hackles rise. Quinn wasn't actively hurting her, but his lifestyle was.
Quinn saved her birthday in her contact card and put his phone back in his pocket. “I guess we’ll celebrate when I get back.” 
“That would be nice,” she said with a smile that was genuine this time.
Travis got her a can of Guiness, and she wrinkled her nose. “Can I have whiskey?”
“You hate whiskey.” 
“I’d rather it than this tar,” she said, pushing the can back to him. “At least whiskey can be mixed into something palatable.”
“Here here,” Trevor said, laughing. 
Travis mimed pulling a knife out of his chest. “You’ve insulted our ancestors, Sarah.” 
“Listen, the Irish invented a lot of really great things: boycotts, modern chemistry, the stethoscope, the submarine,” she said, counting them off on her fingers.
Quinn gave her a surprised look. 
“I did a presentation on Irish inventions in high school,” she explained, flipping her hands, “the point is, is that their alcohol is not one of them.” 
Travis laughed, taking the can for himself. “You want a ginger highball then?” 
She beamed, “I think you know the answer to that.”
“What is that?” Quinn asked. 
“It’s whiskey and ginger ale. It’s delicious.” 
 
Before other guests arrived, Travis asked Quinn if he'd like to see the vintage shelby Mustang he was restoring.
Quinn agreed and gulped when Trevor asked if Sarah could help him find Sawyer. This was one of those talks. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her uncle out to the garage. 
“Listen,” Travis said after they admired the beautiful white car, “Sarah isn't my daughter, but she means a hell of a lot to me, and I want to make sure she’s not going to get hurt. She’s gone through enough heartache already.” 
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Quinn licked his lips before responding, “the last thing I want is to cause her more pain. I know she’s been through too much. I don’t know that I can guarantee she’ll never get hurt, but I can say that I would never hurt her intentionally.” 
“Do you think your job will get in the way?” 
“The travel definitely takes a toll. But I really like Sarah, and I think we have a lot of potential.” Times like these, he was glad for all of his media training. Not that this was anything like a press conference, but they did get him used to thinking fast and answering hard questions.
“She’s not really a model NHL girlfriend.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Quinn demanded, barely keeping a glare off of his features. 
“Just that most of your lot date models that don’t have normal jobs and aren’t in school,” Travis said, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. That defensiveness answered a lot of his questions. 
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, biting down the urge to correct him. Most of his teammates were married to their high school or college sweethearts. “I like that Sarah has her own stuff and that she’s so independent. Before I met her, I dated a girl like you described, and I was always a little worried about what she was doing while I was on the road. I don't ever get that with Sarah.” 
“What do you do on the road?”
“Mostly, I sleep or hang out with the guys. We don't have as much free time as people think.” 
Travis was still looking at him appraisingly over the hood of the car. Had he not been exposed to Sarah’s blue, blue eyes, he would have found her uncles stare incredibly intimidating. 
“Look, Sir - Travis,” he corrected quickly, “I really -” he stopped himself, not wanting to say that to her uncle first. “I really like Sarah, and we really get along. I know it’s not an ideal thing for me to be on the road during the season, but it seems to be working well so far. I want to be with her, and if she’ll let me, I’d like to be in her life for a long time. I just want to make her happy.” 
Travis nodded. “What’s your favorite thing about her?” It was a question his mother-in-law asked him when he met her. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized what a telling question it was. 
“She treats me like a normal person,” Quinn admitted. Even though he knew it made him sound conceited, it was his favorite thing about her. She’d never treated him like anything else than a normal guy. “And she’s interesting and easy to talk to and really respectful to people around her.” 
“Okay,” Travis said, nodding, glad to see Quinn saw the same things he did. “Okay.” His face split into the natural smile he’d given Sarah when he first opened the door. “I can see why she likes you.” 
Despite his attempt to stay cool and collected, Quinn felt a blush splash onto his cheeks as relief relaxed his shoulders.
“I'm not going to say I'll kill you if you hurt her, but just know she has me and Trevor in her corner.” 
Quinn smiled, “I get it. I would want to hurt anyone who hurt her, too.” 
The dinner party was small - no more than 10 people, and only one of them, their friend’s teenage son, Jace, gawked when he walked in to see Quinn in the kitchen. Quinn took it in stride and talked shop with Jace for a while before dinner was served and he took his seat next to Sarah, who had been watching him with a secret, proud kind of smile on her lips.
Halfway through the night, Travis looked over at them to find Quinn watching her as she talked with someone, with this quiet, infatuated look on his face. A few more of his fears were put to rest.
As he stood at the kitchen sink with his niece, drying the pots and pans she was washing by hand, he leaned closer to her, “I can see what you see in him,” he said, conspiratorially. 
“See,” she said, nudging her shoulder into his as she handed him a knife, “I told you.” 
“How did you manage going to school from here for a year?” Quinn asked as they pulled onto the ferry for the ride home. 
“When I lived with them, they lived in the city. They needed to move into a bigger house when Samson was born. By that time, Trevor was working from home most of the time, and I was okay to live with roommates. So, I moved into the apartment I'm in now, and they moved onto the island.”
He waited until the car was parked before asking, “what do you mean you were okay to live with roommates?” 
She pulled in a heavy breath. It was bound to come out eventually. May as well tell him while they had a solid hour and a half boat ride to talk about it. 
“After my mom died, I really struggled.” 
“Wouldn’t anyone?” Quinn asked. 
Sarah pushed the seat back to give her enough room to turn and face him. Her right knee pressed up against the center console. She needed to be looking at him when she said this.
“I mean… I really,” she paused, trying to find the right words. “I remember I flew back to Hawaii a week after the funeral, thinking it was going to be so nice to get back into my routine, but I had this massive gulf in front of me and a literal ocean between me and my family. My roommates were kind of party animals, and they had no idea how to support me, and I had broken up with Kaleo, my boyfriend, before I left because he didn't want anything to do with her funeral or my grief. It felt like no matter where I was, I was just so…alone.” 
It felt like someone was reaching down Quinn's throat and wringing his heart. 
“I called my sister one day - I think I woke her up, which was really shitty because she had a six month old who was teething.” She laughed a little, but there was too much sadness in it for it to be convincing.
“Anyway, I called her crying because I…I started having these really intense thoughts about killing myself.” 
A steep breath stuck in his lungs. He wasn’t totally sure what he thought she would say, but he hadn’t expected that.
“She flew out to be with me, and I moved home two days later. Just packed everything up and left. I didn’t even tell my boss - I was still on FMLA for the funeral, and she had to call me when I didn't show up to work the next Monday.” 
 “Did you ever…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.
“Attempt?”
He nodded, and Sarah shook her head, “no, but the thought of it was really terrifying. Like, I saw for the first time how someone could get into that headspace where they might take their own life. I just remember ruminating on those thoughts and thinking, ‘I don’t wanna die.’” She pressed the heel of her hand under her eye to catch some of the tears that slipped.
“How did you get out of it?” Perhaps she was just really good at hiding it, but she didn’t seem that depressed in all the time he’d known her. 
“I stayed with my sister for the next nine months. I got on some meds and started seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist, and we talked through what was bringing those thoughts up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d already gone through the grief process with my dad, so I knew how awful it was. I never expected to have to go through another big death while I was still single. I thought by the time my mom died, I would have a consistent partner in my life - maybe even a family - and I just kept thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this again.’” 
Quinn wanted to go back in time and make it better. Somehow make sure they met before she was in the city so he could be there for her when it all happened. 
“Anyway, my psychiatrist told me our brains are basically just big problem solvers. You give it a problem, it wants to fix it. So when I kept telling myself, ‘I don’t want to do this again,’ my brain was just coming up with the swiftest solution for me to not have to do it again. When I changed the way I was thinking about it and started giving myself some more grace, those thoughts lessened a lot.” 
God, she was even stronger than he thought. 
“Even with all that stuff, I still really wanted to go to grad school, and my therapist and my psychiatrist agreed that it was best for me to have a goal to work toward, even if it meant moving away from home. I was really scared that if I moved out totally on my own, those feelings would come up again, and no one would be around for me to talk to about them, and I might hurt myself. But I couldn't study the ocean in Nevada. My brother actually suggested UBC and living with Travis. I called him to see what he thought. I hadn't even applied, but I didn't want to if I didn't have a plan for when I got in. I pitched that I could be a nanny of sorts when I wasn't in school. They told me they’d love to have me stay with them. I applied and by some miracle was accepted on the first try, and the rest is history,” she said, shrugging.
“Do you…” he paused, not totally sure how best to ask this. “Do you still think about it?” 
She shook her head, “not much anymore. Every once in a while, it comes back when a big grief marker comes up, or I get really, really stressed or anxious, but the thoughts are always  really fleeting.”
Even though it meant the console was pressing into his stomach, and she was pitched back slightly, Quinn leaned over to gather her against him. “I can’t believe how strong you are.” 
“It’s not like I had any other choice.” 
“Clearly you did,” he said, reluctantly settling back into his seat. 
“I didn’t,” she said, voice quiet but firm. “There was no way I was going to put my family through another death, and like I said, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to not be in pain anymore, and those are very different things.” 
“I just think you should be proud of yourself, that’s all.” 
“I mean, I am proud that I got out of it, and proud that I know how to ask for what I need now, but being strong in the face of death is just something you have to do. There’s no way out but through.”
“Fine,” he said, repeating her action from earlier and bringing her knuckles to his lips, “I’ll be proud for you.” 
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist
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neitheror · 11 months
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A comic about thinking bad things and a way to fight against it feat. My fursona.
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alltheyearsblog · 6 months
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We will always save you, Leonardo.
Look, I ain’t pointing fingers, someone might have just been consuming a lot of Leo angst fics across all the iterations.
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s1lly-gh02tz · 1 month
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GUN AND SUI. IMPLIED TW⚠️😰😰😰😰😰
Sighs TikTok wouldn’t let me post this (I wonder why)
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windslar · 20 days
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cjcroen1393 · 4 months
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This idea popped into my head this morning and I spent most of said morning working on it.
Kieran denies that he has depression by showing the League Club his vent art. Predictably, this fails to convince them and all it accomplishes is making them MORE concerned for him.
Edit: Forgot to color Ogerpon’s dot thingys
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