#TW:self harm

[worldofkuro]

Hi, I love your fic and this may seem really random, you don't have you write it at all, but could you please do a self-harm!reader and Alastor comforting her, or just Alastor comforting her after finding her having a mental breakdown alone. I suggest maybe when their teens cause teens often have mental breakdowns (or maybe that was just me). Thanks again if you see this <3

Oh, dear, trust me, I know, even adults. Thank you for loving Painted Smile. It's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts about it! I wanted to warn you, it’s not fluff, this is how Painted Smile!Alastor would react and we all know he doesn’t work like a “normal” being, he is crazy and that is why we love him, I suppose. This is Alastor’s way of saving you from yourself. So please, if you are easily shocked, don’t read it. TW: Self-harm

Not cut for love.

You were in front of the mirror, in the bathroom, looking at yourself with a blade in your hand. You didn’t know when you started crying, but you just wanted this pain to end. You didn’t understand when you felt this never-ending torment crawl in your mind. You had loving parents and friends that were here for you, and yet, sometimes, you feel lonelier than ever.

You didn’t remember the first time you dug the blade in your skin. Maybe it was because you needed to feel something real, something that would ground you. To save you from drowning, you felt the need to hurt your body.

Your body could heal, your mind couldn’t.

That was what you were telling yourself. Every wound would heal itself because your body wanted to live, and you wanted to keep on living while your mind was torturing you with thoughts you felt like you didn’t deserve to have.

When did this agony begin..?

You held back a sob as blood was beginning to slide down your wrist. It was pretty, making you believe you were pretty inside. You didn't want to be a burden. You didn't want people to be condescending because you were feeling sad or anxious. They would send you to a hospital and never look back.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. Even though the blade cut your skin, it wasn’t enough. You began to cut yourself once more, trying to go deeper until this torment inside your mind would stop.

“ Dearest ?”

You turned your head toward the door you were sure you had locked, and there was Alastor, staring at you with his usual smile. You quickly hide your arms behind your back, your whole body shaking. 

You felt shame enveloping you in an uncomfortable hug. You opened your mouth, but no words could come out. You didn’t know what was going to happen, and you didn’t want to find out.

“ That’s a lot of blood. May I see?” he held his hand toward you, closing the door after him. You took a step back as he came closer, looking at the mess on the floor. You were shaking, angry with yourself to be found in that situation, angry at Alastor to discover your secret, you just felt.. angry.

“ No. Get out.. I don’t have time for jokes.” You tried to keep your voice strong even though it was only a mere whisper.

“ Who’s joking?” he took the blade from your shaking hands and stared at it before looking at you. He gently took your bloodied wrist on his hand with a soft smile. “ It’s going to scar.”

You looked at him, confused. Why wasn’t he screaming at you, calling you crazy or hysterical ? You let him look at your wounds. You felt like this moment was more intimate than you realized. 

“ Do you want to keep going?” he tilted his head toward you, making your eyes widen in shock. He wanted you to continue..? “ Your cut isn’t bad, but this isn’t the best way to cut yourself, my dear.”

“ You… You aren’t angry..?”

“ With you? Of course not. But I’m curious, why are you cutting yourself?” he stroked your bloodied skin while staring at you. As you weakly tried to explain your inner turmoil, Alastor was observing while wiping your tears and your blood from your skin. “ I see. Let’s go kill animals. It helps me when I’m feeling down!” he beamed at you.

“ What? No! Why? They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“ So did you, dearest. And yet, you’re still hurting yourself.” he tilted his head, seeming confused. You closed your mouth at his words, it echoed inside of you, you didn't do anything wrong and yet… “ Next time you want to hurt yourself, wait for me.”

“ Why..? Shouldn’t you try to stop me?”

“ Is it going to make you stop?” he stared at you as you weakly shook your head. This pain was something that you needed now. You didn’t feel like living without it anymore.. Even your body would beg you to do it sometimes…” That’s what I thought. So, my dearest friend, when you want to cut yourself, wait for me, I’ll cut you.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. Did he really say..?

“ Alastor… You..”

“ Like I told you, I know how to cut. Your cuts are messy and dangerous. You could have touched a vein here. So, if you allow me, I’ll cut you.” he pressed the blade slightly against your skin, making you gasp. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know what to think about it and yet.. It was oddly comforting to think Alastor, your friend, your special person, would do that for you.

“ Are we crazy, Alastor?” you whispered.

“ Completely insane, dear!” he laughed as he cleaned your wounds, already preparing bandages. He hummed before kissing your cut. “ One cut, one kiss, what about it?”

You nodded as he slid the blade against your skin. It wasn’t like you were doing. The blade wasn’t cutting deeply. It was enough to draw blood, but it wasn’t as messy as you would do. Alastor was staring at your face, observing every reaction. It was comforting, letting Alastor have his way with your life. He could kill you if he made a bad cut, but you knew he never would.

You were letting him hold your life in his hands, and it was… a good feeling. You knew Alastor was feeling the same. His pupils were dilated, and you could hear his breathing getting harder, the same as yours.

You looked at the wounds as Alastor kissed it, getting dirty with your blood.

“ I’m used to scars that are made by hate and violence, I don’t want you to feel that. So, my dear, let me scar you with my affections for you.”

You didn’t know if you should be scared or disgusted, but at that moment, you felt nothing but relief. You weren’t alone in this torment anymore.

[woodleeef]

Stay the course.

inspired by my fav game, Disco Elysium

before and after

inspo

[anti-kawaii-daily]

Today's Anti-Kawaii Characters of The Day are Dakemi-Chan and Kiumi-Hime, a pair of indie VTubers! They wear Dark and Sweet Girly Kei with some mild Yamikawaii elements! They also both fit into the Utsudere and Menhera archetypes, while Kiumi in particular fits into the Hikikomori archetype!

You can find them both on Twitch (Dakemi) (Kiumi); And on Twitter.com (Dakemi) (Kiumi)!

These characters were requested by @magical-sickness!

[hwangdahlia]

[demodraws0606]

It's wild how much people frame Bad as "problematic" when his actions basically are :

-Defending a person whose been friend with for years from grooming allegations that he didn't believe were true that turned out to not hold much water in the end.

-Making a self-harm joke a long time ago that he explained was based on what he went through when people pushed him about it.

-The usage of the r-slur a fucking long time ago when it was normalized which he apologized for (which is funny cos no one brings that up when its the ONE thing he has actually done wrong and apologized for)

-People lying about him being xenophobic ????????? Ig ???

Like oh god what a problematic evil person ????? Truly I'm shaking in my boots rn from all this tension

[discocannon8002]

I could do it

MASSIVE TW

I’ve been…eight days clean from sh.

eight days since I last landed a blow on my own skull

but now… all I want is to be dead.

Usually I sh to get the emotions out but…

this time I want to because I feel like I deserve it.

this time it’s more serious

this time I want to seriously sink a blade into my skin because I’m not good enough.

I could do it, everybody else is asleep

but I’ve come this far

so instead, I guess I’m gonna go tell my parents.

wish me luck

[sannasruins]

blue haired girl

hado nejire x reader

warnings: growing apart, unrequited feelings, abandonment, non-descriptive self-harm, lesbians (the horror!)

a/n: there's a bit of time skipping in this, so i’ve labeled things as their verses in the songs and the years (1, 2, and 3A) + semesters of high school they took place in. is nejire adhd/autistic coded? i cant tell, maybe its because i see the way she is as my normal (adhd) that i cant tell. i'm basing her personality strongly off the wiki bc she really hasn't had that much air time.

word count: 2.9k

inspired by and based on tv girl's- blue hair

Verse 1 - First Semester 1A

You and Nejire met on your first day of high school, class 1A. Both of you had quirks that were more powerful than the rest of the girls in your class, assuming that the two of you thought that you were superior to them and were already looking down on them, they took initiative and distanced themselves from you at the start. This left the two of you with only two options, have no friends, be a lonely outcast for the foreseeable future, or become friends. Obviously, it was an easy choice, and it was nice that the two of you got along well, and probably would have become friends even if you weren’t put in that unfortunate social situation. 

She was a blunt girl, not really knowing when it was the appropriate time, if at all, to say something that she wanted to say. She often ended up saying things that were accidentally hurtful, though if you let her know, she would instantly feel remorseful and apologize incessantly. She wasn’t always sure how to make a joke, often her attempts falling flat, but she was bright, and cheery, and had so much knowledge that she longed to share. You couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at her as you listened to her ramble about the newest thing, she learned that week on national geographic. 

One day, in the middle of your first year, she asked you how to be funny. You were taken aback, and asked her back, “you think I’m funny?” She nodded with a small smile.

You contemplated on how you should respond to her difficultly abstract question, “I don’t think that’s something you can teach.” 

She looked down, her smile falling off her face sent a pang of guilt to your heart. You quickly tried to backtrack, “I think you’re funny though Hado! You’re constantly making me smile and laugh!”. Her eyes met yours, a furrow forming on her brow, you stammered on, “Maybe not everyone thinks you’re funny, but I think that’s true for everyone! You just got to find the people that do think you’re funny and like being around you… like me.” You held eye contact with her despite the bright flush that made its way to your cheeks, ask if you were trying to transfer your conviction over to her.  She brushed off your almost confession with a giggle and a change of topic.

Chorus 1- Second Semester 2A

As you both aged, Nejire started to get more notice than you. Not that you were jealous, you being too enamored with her to care, no, you were just happy that she was getting the recognition you thought she so obviously deserved. It did sting though, when she would turn down your invitations for afterschool dates poorly vailed by you as hangouts. She needed to train though, she would say, and dismiss you with a “next time, okay y/n?”

Sometimes as you left the school building on your way home you would take the long way, past the training fields to watch her for a little bit, training with two boys from your class. You wondered why she didn’t ask you to train with her, to help her. You would never ask though, far too afraid of the answer that seemed to be pulling at the hem of your shirt, demanding your attention. She’s just focusing on training, it’s not like she suddenly stopped liking you. It’s not like she wanted to stop being your friend. It’s not like she was purposely ignoring you. Right?

Verse 2- Third Semester 1A 

The two of you were sitting in a cafe after school, one that Nejire had shown you a picture of on Pinterest and said the two of you had to go for their cute specialty foods. You had gotten a parfait, the cream on top having been manipulated into the shape of a cat, Nejire got a jasmine tea latte, the art in the foam had her swooning and whipping out her phone to snap pictures of it in multiple angles as she told you about her Pinterest page’s aesthetic, you listened along, slightly confused at the idea of people posting on Pinterest like it was a social media but not questioning it. After she had taken enough pictures of both her and your orders, the two of you started on your treats, she took a long sip from her latte and when she placed it back down on the table, she had suddenly grown a distinguished mustache made of foam. It made you smile so hard your cheeks hurt, trying to keep your laugher a courteous volume to the other patrons was exceedingly difficult as she didn’t seem to notice her new facial accessory and was looking at you very confused. In spite of your shakes of laughter you managed to raise a shaky hand to point at your upper lip, signaling to her what you had found so funny. She raised a finger to her top lip, touching the foam and then pulled it back to see what was on her face. Realizing what she had done, her face blushed a warm pink as she quickly grabbed her napkin to wipe it away. You had finally calmed down and noticed that she had missed a little bit on the far edge.

“Nejire, you still have some,” you told her and pointed on yourself where it was on her, picked the napkin back up and scrubbed at her face, but on the wrong side.

“No, other side,” you specified. She again rubbed at her face with the now crumpled napkin but somehow still managed to miss the small smudge of foamed milk.

Not thinking, you rose and leaned across the table, before wiping the white away with your thumb. You sat back down, and without a thought in your head, licked it off of your thumb. 

You noticed her face flush, even more than before, now a hot red; you realized the suggestiveness of what you had just done, and at the same time, felt an explosion of butterflies manifest themselves into your gut. 

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking down with a slight smile on her face, and you reddened. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while before she broke it.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

You didn’t think before you responded.

“Yes.” You hesitated and then added on, “I think you’re really beautiful.”

The two of you fell back into silence.

The purgatory of not knowing how the two of you felt about each other was horrible, but the fear of rejection, not just of a confession but of you as a person, rejecting your identity, kept you in your place. 

There really was no winning.

Chorus 2- First Semester 3A

It hurt, seeing her every day, but not being able to talk to her about anything and everything in the way that you had grown used to. She was part of the big 3 now, she was revered by everyone now, she was strong and kind and smart and now they were all seeing what you had from the start. It was selfish of you, you knew, but you wish they hadn't noticed. 

She wasn’t being purposefully cruel in her withdrawal from you, she wasn’t doing it to be mean, she had just forgotten, she had just been stretched too thin and something had to go. It was still mean though, and it was still cruel.

You felt the loneliest now, so much so it was almost incomparable. Your days now spent in silence, and slowly falling into the motions. School, train, sleep, school, train, sleep, school, train, sleep. With nothing to break the monotony, life became dull, and you were sinking into a different kind of blue, not the blue of an eye like you did when you first saw Hado Nejire, but into the blue of the mind, getting darker, muddier, harder to see what’s in front of you. 

You became more reckless, not in retaliation but due to a slow building and concerning lack of self-preservation. Often throwing yourself into dangerous positions with villains, jumping solo into fights, you had no probability of winning alone, asking for more and more hours at your internship. It kept it at bay for a little while, the numbness, but as with most things, it did not last. You feared you were slowly but surely becoming a shell of your former self.

You needed something more, you needed to keep yourself feeling, needed to keep yourself human, needed to keep yourself. So, you resorted to means you probably shouldn’t have. Flame, blade, burns, blood. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but it was something. 

On an especially hot September day it was odd to see students wearing their long-sleeved winter uniforms, but not enough to raise many questions. One girl asked, “Aren’t you hot?”, but you brushed it off, explaining that you just ran cold. A bold-faced lie to anyone who knew you, but none of them did. 

As you were working on your lesson book, Hado Nejire walked past your desk on her way to the front of the room, glancing down at you, maybe out of habit, she got a glance of lines of damaged skin, some already faded, but many varying degrees of red. She faltered in her step, double taking, confused as to what she was seeing. Not wanting to cause a scene in class or be caught staring, she almost seamlessly continued walking, and if one hadn’t been watching her, they wouldn’t have noticed her split second reel.

She stopped you by the door after class, and when you tried to scoot by her, thinking she wasn’t aware she was in the doorway, she blocked its entirety with her body, staring you down. She grabbed you by the hand and led you to an unused stairwell as you stumbled behind her hastened pace. You didn’t notice it at the time, but she was especially careful when grabbing you, fearing that she would take hold somewhere that would cause you pain, fearing to reopen possible wounds.

 There was a furrow in your brow as you looked at her, wordlessly questioned why she had dragged you there. She turned your arm over, her hand still holding yours, and gently raised your crisp white sleeve, a gasp of dismay escaping her lips as her eyes raked over your battered arm. She dropped your hand only to quickly grab your other one, pulling the sleeve of that arm up too. You were watching her face as she grit her teeth at the sight, her eyebrows pushed into an expression you didn’t know, one you had never seen before even after all the years you had known her. Her head turned and her eyes met yours, weirdly, you thought, they were filled with tears. 

“Why?”

This pushed some button you did not know you had, and an unexpected, hot rage filled you. 

“What do you mean, Hado?” you did not spit her name, but she flinched as if it was filled with venom.

“Y/n…” she trailed off. You remained silent, seething. 

“This isn’t like you, why would you do this?” 

You didn’t answer her for a long time before sighing, “You wouldn’t know Hado, you haven’t spoke to me in well over 5 months.”

“I’m sorry, I-” her words almost a whimper, but you interrupted her. 

“Please, don’t. I don’t think I can stomach it Hado, I think, whatever you’re going to say next, will only make things worse.”

She clamped her mouth shut, her lips in a pale line, and nodded tearfully, before choking out an “okay”. 

Things didn’t change much after that, though she was more watchful of you, you could, at times, feel her eyes boring into you from across the classroom or training halls and fields, and you started feeling a little different, slowing down in your efforts to drive away the numbness, as the numbness seemed to seep away from you. Less and less, you found yourself feeling as if there was nowhere else to go with a knife in your grasp. 

You also no longer prayed that she would make time for you, disillusioning yourself, and realizing that she was not perfect, though feelings as strong as yours don’t just simply disappear due to disillusionment. 

Verse 3- Third Semester 3A

Her hair had been burnt off, now in a blunt bob, and what once had been marred and blistered skin was now just slightly tinged pink. It still hurt you to see though, quietly observing. She was different now, bolder, more self-assured, Maybe, you mused, something had been burnt off along with her hair. You were different now too though, you were better. You had sought counseling, speaking to the trusted hero you were interning under, and they helped you find and utilize resources to mitigate your mental health. You felt lighter, you were still lonely, but you were now a little bit more at peace with your solitude, and less afraid to put yourself out there, slowly becoming friends with the sidekicks at your internship who were just a couple years your senior. 

Chorus 3- After Graduation

Sometimes you would see her on TVs in coffee shops, or in ads in magazines, though if you looked you could find yourself too, maybe not as often, but still there. Both of you were making a name for yourselves in the hero world. 

You had started dating a pretty sidekick from your agency, she was one of the first people you had befriended when you started putting in the effort to get better, she had been there for you through many bad nights, and many more good ones. You really, truly loved her. And yes, sometimes you would miss your first love, but not in a way of current longing, but for a past. You would never leave your girlfriend though, even if you got the chance to go back, even if they told you everything would turn out the way you had begged and hoped and dreamt. Those were no longer your dreams. 

It was in line at a coffee shop that you ran into her. She looked nice, more mature, gracefully slipping into her early 20’s, face less youthful, but still bright with a smile. 

The two of you chatted as you waited for your orders to be taken, and continued afterwards, as you waited for them to be made. 

She was direct in her flirting, touching your arm, complementing you, laughing a little too much at things that weren’t that funny. You did not reciprocate. 5 years ago, if she had been doing what she was doing now, you would have been over the moon, indescribably happy, but now, you didn’t feel much of anything at all. You were flattered, maybe a bit annoyed, but the feelings were so watered down, so muted that you could barely describe them as anything. You were happy to talk to an old friend though. 

“We should hang out some time,” she told you after your orders had been picked up from the counter and the two of you started towards the front doors, “go on a little afterschool date like we used to.” She smiled and winked.

You politely smiled back at her and opened your mouth to reply, when your phone started going off, the ring tone you had affectionately assigned to your girlfriend, playing. 

“Oh, sorry it’s my girlfriend, let me answer real quick,” not waiting for a response from Nejire, you picked up the phone.

“Hey love, what’s up?” You inquired through the phone.

“Are you almost home yet?”

“Yeah, I just picked up your coffee from the coffee place two blocks down.”

“Oh yay! Thank you baby, see you soon, I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

You ended the call and turned towards Nejire apologetically, “Sorry about that!”

You exited the shop, Nejire holding the door open for you, and stood next to her on the sidewalk, close to the building and out of the way. 

“Oh!” you realized you hadn’t answered her question yet, “yeah, it would be nice to hang out and catch up.” This time, hangout had no hidden meanings or crossed fingers. It was purely platonic. “I miss you,” she confessed. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you were really never expecting her to say that. 

“I guess things ended up differently, not the way I wanted I mean.” she clarified. “It’s hard seeing you in the news, or in my fashion magazines, but not being able to see you in person anymore. I just… miss you a lot y/n, even though you’ve not gone anywhere.”

You hmm and nod, “you’re right, I haven’t gone anywhere. That was you, Hado Nejire. I’m proud of you, you're becoming a great hero.” You smiled at her softly. She stood, unmoving, looking at you, maybe waiting for something more, but you were no longer the person who would be able to provide that.

“Well, I need to get going before all this ice melts,” you shook the iced coffee in your hands, “or my girlfriend will have my head.”

“Oh, uh, okay” she stammered. 

“Message me! My numbers still the same, if you still have it. You could meet my girlfriend too, I think you’d like her, she’s amazing.”

Nejire nodded, watching your figure as you walked away, bitter jealousy and remorse making their home in her sour stomach.

Hi! I know it may seem like I am romanticizing self-harm in this but I promise I am not. As it is something I have struggled with for many years I am just reflecting my own struggles and thoughts, and trying to represent a mental illness as what it is. That doesn't mean it is something you should do, and if you struggle with it and are tempted after reading, here are some healthier alternatives. Please do not hurt yourselves, lovelies.

[papaziggy-devblog]

I'm sorry, but can I get any consolation from Sophie or Gavin? Over the past few weeks, I've been constantly hearing that I've become less diligent, lazy, and weird. I tried not to pay much attention to it, but my parents' words finished me off. My stepfather shouted that I was a stupid lazy person, and my mother complained that my college grades were much better last year and that I was wasting such important and difficult time on useless drawings that would not feed me. Their words became the trigger for a nervous breakdown, accompanied by unintentional self-harm. I managed to somehow stop myself, but panic and hysteria, no matter how hard I try, do not go away with bad thoughts. Please forgive me for having to read this. If it is unpleasant for you to write on such topics, then please ignore it. Once again, please forgive me

(I'm sorry you're going through such a hard time anon... its not right for people to speak to you like that and I know things seem overwhelming... But just keep on pushing on, do what makes you happy, and working towards the future you want and you'll get there, I just know it, please take care of yourself ok? 🤎🦥🤎)

[your-brightest-star]

Kys

Oh believe me....

[transexualpirate]

cannot express how important remus sanders was to me. dealing with intrusive thoughts came out right around the time where my intrusive thoughts were reaching what i consider to be extreme proportions and eventually causing me to self harm over them, and seeing for the First Time thoughts that you don't want to be having in not only a morally neutral perspective but also as just a silly, stupid, goofy thing to have was so game changing for me at the time. sanders sides ily forever

[roxy4life]

....... 4 months gone....

...... It's burns and hurts...

[lazyjellyfishcreation]

No thoughts, just Sam and his affinity for fire.

I headcanon, that Sam always had a fascination for fire. Being part demon and one of Azazel's special children had that effect on him. He had a brass/silver lighter he carried everywhere and fiddled/played with wherever, especially when he was anxious. When he found out why he had this tic, he stopped doing it. The urge to grab his lighter to mindlessly play with the flame was still there, but it was like giving in, and scratching that itch would confirm what he was. He gave his favorite brass/silver lighter to Dean and bought himself one of them cheap ones. Being able to burn shit was still important to his job, but having a cheap, plastic lighter instead of one he could play with, helped. After his soul gets back from the cage, he goes to Dean and demands his lighter back. Dean still has it. Knowing how much comfort that lighter once brought his brother means that Dean kept it all this time in his breast pocket close to his heart. (And also because Sammy was gone, and Dean couldn't reach him and that lighter was one of the lest ties Dean had to his baby brother. If he couldn't keep his brother safe, maybe he can keep same the thing that brought him so much joy one upon a time)

Now, the flame is a source of comfort. He needs it, on him, all the time. The cage was cold. So so cold. He needs the heat, the comfort of the burning flame. As long as he has his flame, the cold can't hurt him. He burns himself sometimes. Being part demon and the (retired) boy king of hell means that the fire hurts less and the burns heal quickly, leaving behind a comforting tingling sensation.

Burning still hurts, don't get me wrong, but less, and he can control it. In the cage, Lucifer controlled his pain. Out here, he controls his own pain, as a reminder that his body (vessel) belongs to him and only him. Fire is good. His lighter is good. Maybe that makes him a demon, but he's okay with that. He's okay with being a demon as long as he's reminded that he's no longer there. Idk man, just Sam being chronically addicted to playing with his lighter, because the heat of the flame reminds him he's alive.

[lnkedmyheart]

Skk shippers, aku stans, chuuya stans. I know you guys think Kavya or Dazai anon or Melozai is some silly dumb jobless troll. But please understand that she has not just been acting like a basic particularly enthusiastic troll. She is clearly unwell and has been doing this for at least over a year to users on twitter. She has not only been getting increasingly more obsessive with the shippers she has repeatedly sent them suicide threats, death threats and even gore/mutilation images in dms (and I am pretty sure it was a picture of their own body). She has at several points tried to gaslight people after attacking them for their sexuality, gender and race. She has been harassing people on multiple platforms non stop and without break. She has far too many sock puppet accounts to be considered normal troll behaviour and she has literally memorized a massive chunk of skk shippers and chuuya stans to constantly tag and harass.

Please understand that interacting with her in any capacity is not healthy. Her behaviour has several red flags everywhere and we do not know how far she is willing to go. I have seen enough people like her who get written off as just trolls take drastic actions from reporting a gay teenager to the police in a place where being gay was a punishable offense to actually feeding fan artists needle laced food at conventions. Please, understand the risks of interacting with that person.

Edit- she did this to emily back in 2021 as well.

[finlands-world]

Mots d'une illusion

(TW: body image issues, referenced self-harm)

Il y a quelque chose d’incroyablement violent

dans le regard que tu pose sur ton reflet.

J’ai du mal à comprendre pourquoi, d’ailleurs.

Ton sourire illumine les espoirs et tes yeux ont cet éclat penseur,

comme si une fascinante question flânait constamment à la lisière de tes lèvres,

comme si tu n’étais que rarement conscient du décors.

J’essaie, tu sais. 

Te renvoyer un regard aimant, un sourire sincère, 

j’y mets tout mes efforts.

Mais je ne suis capable de porter

que les accusations infondées de ton visage froid.

Je suis là chaque fois que tu pleure

que tu blesse, que tu néglige

ce corps qui pourtant ne fait que de son mieux.

Ce corps qui te permet de vivre chaque instant

dans toute son infinie beauté, dans sa tranquillité.

Et je serai là chaque fois que tu croisera ton reflet

dans les fenêtres de bâtiments obscures, 

dans le miroir de ta salle de bain,

contre la carrosserie d’une trop propre voiture,

ou même dans l’éclat de ta poignée de porte.

Que ce soit tôt ou tard,

délibéré ou accidentel,

méticuleux ou du coin de l’oeil.

Je ne suis que l’écho involontaire de tes pensées.

J’aimerais que tu te voies comme je te vois.

J’aimerais que tu me voies comme je te vois

Je ne mérite pas ces regards violents.

[jessiesbadpoetry]

Somebody tell me why I've done my research, I've checked all those lists searching for reasons not to slit my wrists "5 Ways to Feel Happy", "Where to Hide Your Knife", even "100 Reasons to Stay Alive"

I can't stomach food, I just put it away And tell myself I'll eat more another day

I can't look in mirrors I can barely walk I'm scared to open my mouth, don't wanna hear myself talk

Can't go outside My captors keep me in chains Trust me, I've tried my best to escape

I don't belong in this body, hope they take it away Honestly, its not that nice anyway

The music I liked, now feels one beat off Video games don't match up to my lof- ty expectations

The people I like, wanna put me away And honestly, can't say that I blame them

[backpackingspace]

me just existing having a good night excited to try out some new self care stuff. Me gets hit over the head with the desire to hurt my self:mother fucker