you should kill yourself

New Cuts and Old Scars

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Prompt: “You are more than what you think you are.”

Word Count: 896

Warnings: SELF HARM, LOW SELF ESTEEM, AND DEPRESSION but fluff at the end I promise

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my entry for @the-shield-of-writing ‘s writing challenge celebrating 800 followers! Enjoy! 

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood

     Taking the small blade in your hands, you fumbled with it in your fingers. You knew you shouldn’t do it. You had promised you wouldn’t. Yet, you still wanted to. You knew you deserved every ounce of pain that was going to be delivered to you because you were just you. You were always anxious and always sad and never slept and it just got worse and worse. You were just an ugly, worthless burden to everyone else. No. No. I need to be fine. I need to be okay because other people tell me I’m supposed to be fine. Even in your head you knew that was just the same lie you had been telling yourself for years now. You needed the sweet release of pain. Something to lash out at. Better yourself than anyone else.

     With a tear rolling down your cheek, you lifted up your sleeve and dragged the small piece of metal across your skin. It stung at first but created a small line of red to which the liquid dripped down your wrists and onto the floor. Over and over again, you slashed, hacked, and slit your skin, officially ruining its beautiful clarity you had worked so hard to keep. Red line after red line appeared and drop after drop of blood fell to the floor staining the freshly washed green rug. “Y/N?” a voice called from the hallway. You simply ignored it as you continued to harm yourself. “Y/N? Are you okay?” Loki’s voice echoed just outside the door. He knocked three times gently. Hearing his voice simply made it so much worse. You didn’t deserve him. Slash. You are a broken useless girl that can no longer wear short sleeves because she hates herself that much. Slash. God, you should just kill yourself already. Slash. The knocking at the door had turned to poundings and you heard the doorknob being twisted and turned in a desperate attempt to get in despite it being locked. “Y/N? Y/N!Your boyfriend had started to raise his voice in alarm. Blood dripping down your arms you moved to your thighs where you did the most damage. No one checks the thighs. Tears stung the cuts you made on your skin yet you continued on. You were so involved in mutilating your legs that you didn’t hear the door being forcefully wrenched open.

     Suddenly the blade disappeared from your fingers and strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind instead. “Y/N, my beautiful queen, please don’t do this to yourself. You were spun around to meet Loki. His beautiful eyes looked down at you with such sorrow it caused you to cry more violently, if that was even possible. Bleeding arms and all he pulled you to his chest not caring what the blood stained. You buried your face in his dark hair, shaking with sobs. He hugged you so tight you could barely breath but it was exactly what you needed at that moment. He stroked your hair and didn’t let you go even when you tried to pull away. You both slumped to the floor and he let you go only to take your hands in his and press kisses to your unsteady fingers. “Loki, I’m so so sorry. You deserve so much better. I’m sorry I’m not good enough,” You looked down sadly knowing it was true. He deserved the world and more and you couldn’t give it to him. You were broken and beaten up and all around pathetic. “Y/N look at me.” It was almost as if his voice commanded you to turn your head up and his gaze locked on yours. “You are good enough. In fact you are more than good enough.” Your hands started shaking violently again. How could he possibly think this highly of you? In order to calm your hands he simply intertwined his fingers in your own. God, his touch could work wonders on you. The shaking slowly came to an end and you gripped his hands as if your life depended on it.

     “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “You are more than what you think you are. You are the kindest, most caring compassionate, and intelligent person I have ever met. Not to mention breath-takingly gorgeous. You know that I would do absolutely anything for you and all I want is for you to be safe and happy and it breaks my heart break to see you, my precious Y/N, like this because you are my everything and so much, so much more.” At this point he had tears in his eyes himself, He cupped your face and shook it gently desperately trying to get you to accept the words that were coming out of his mouth as the truth. “I promised I would protect you, Y/N.His voice cracked with sorrow. “Do you understand me? I promised! I will not rest until I have kissed every cut, every scar on your body and healed every wound that this cruel, cruel world has instilled in your beautiful soul.” He took you back into his arms briefly, cradling your fragile body in his strong arms. “Nothing can touch you while I am here Y/N I swear it. You are mine and I am yours and I will never ever let you go my beautiful, ever-loving, and oh so deserving Queen.”

Stop hitting yourself

The party relied on the NPC member taking first watch (like idiots). The fighter wakes up to a zombie puppy on their leg.

Fighter OOC: I swing my sword and decapitate it.

GM: You have a warhammer, no sword.

Fighter OOC: I swing that.

GM: You kill the zombie, and smash your leg. You can’t walk. The Cleric will have to carry/drag you.

~~

End of session:

Fighter OOC: So do I get EXP for this session?

GM: You didn’t do anything!

Fighter OOC: I killed a zombie.

GM: YOU HOBBLED YOURSELF! I SHOULD DEDUCT EXP!!!

Kevin: *has zero healthy coping mechanisms*

Kevin: *hyper-fixates on exy and has his entire sense of self-worth centered around it*

Kevin:*barely sleeps between late night practices and early morning practices*

Kevin: *constantly pushes his body to and beyond its limits and will not take a day off of practice*

Kevin: *downs whole bottles of tequila to avoid his problems*

Kevin: *recreationally uses drugs*

Kevin: *eat healthy and pretends like it will counter out the other stuff*

Kevin: What the fuck, Nicky? Are you trying to kill yourself buying junk food? You should follow my example and take better care of yourself.

Anonymous Hate - Bruce Wayne x Reader

So, lately, a lot of writing blogs I LOVE (though I probably don’t say it enough) received anonymous hate…It inspired me to write this piece. I hope you’ll like it, and if I receive anonymous hate for it, oh man, I’m so ready for this…Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy (forgive me if it’s not great, I slept only 4 hours in those last three days, and drunk too much coffee) : 

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

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Bruce Wayne’s heart is threatening to beat out of his chest, and he isn’t sure of what he’s feeling right now. 

Anger ? Worries ? Confusion ? 

Does he feel stun ? Or Furious ? 

Sad or scared ? 

Anxious or enraged ? 

He doesn’t know. 

And if there’s one thing Bruce Wayne hates, is to lose control over his own emotions. But he just couldn’t help it. 

He was used to it with you, and only with you did he not mind. 

When it was about you, he just couldn’t have any control of what he felt, and that was alright…Though it was always positive feelings. 

Love. Awe. Adoration. A strong friendship. Passion. Devotion. Respect. Affection. Tenderness. Yearning. Fondness. Adulation…

He was of course always worried about you because 1. since you became a Wayne you also became a target for people who’d want something from him or his company, or for those who wanted a huge ransom and 2. because he’s as much the Batman than Bruce, and if one day his secret identity was to be discovered by any of his enemies, your life would be in a life threatening danger…Well, more that it was already. 

This thought was already almost too much to bear (he broke it off with you in the first few months of your relationship, scared to lose you…until he realized that he would lose you anyway if he left you, and since you accepted him back with wide arms…). 

So now, faced with…All this. It was too real. It was too close from home. 

Both literally and figuratively. 

Because those “things” (he refused to give it the name he knew it actually had) arrived in your house. At Wayne’s Manor. 

He felt like a pregnant woman, as if his hormones were playing tricks on him, because it wasn’t possible that a single human being could feel all those feelings at once, naturally…Right ? 

And yet. And yet here, in front of your desk, reading all those terrible things…

-Bruce ? Are you there ?

Your voice makes him jump, and, startled, he whips around and is faced with you and all your Glory…Oh because you’re nothing but glorious, as the light of the sun going down hits you just right and makes you look like a goddess. 

His Goddess. And oh Bruce is glad that you cannot read minds, because if you could, you would mock him and his cheesiness right now. 

-Oh hey, here you are my heart. Say, for tonight, I was thinking…What is that ? Hey are you alright my Broosh ? 

You approach him, worried because he’s just so pale and he seems almost lost, as his eyes follow you as if it was just an automatic reaction. It’s only when you reach for his face, and stroke his cheek with soft fingers that he finally snap out of his strange haze. He leans in your touch, and, without saying anything, shows you what’s in his hand. 

You look down and…

-Oh. That. I knew I should have burn everything…But I always forget. I receive them with the rest of the fan mail and I just shove it in there promising myself to destroy it, in case you’d find them, and then…I forget, or get too busy with something and then forget. 

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  • Normal people: I'm not really into this ship, so I'll just stay off its tag and keep shipping my own stuff
  • Some fucking retards: IF YOU SHIP THIS YOU SHOULD DIE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE I HOPE YOU KILL YOURSELF BECAUSE I'M SUCH A RIGHTEOUS HUMAN BEING!!!!111 AND IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T UNDERSTOOD YET I'LL JUST SPAM THE TAGS AND SEND ANON HATE BECAUSE EVERYONE WHO SHIPS SOMETHING I DON'T SHIP SHOULD FUCKING BURN IN HELL QKDJAKSJAJQBA
Be a decent human being

I was a customer in this situation defending a worker.
Went to Bell of Tacos to cure my pregnancy craving (hey when your kiddo demands it it’s easier to get it) and I went inside since the drive thru was utterly packed. Now I was minding my own business just browsing on my phone when I noticed the poor cashier must’ve been newer (I’ve kinda learned everyone at this location) and he was struggling to get past his Rs. This older woman he was helping suddenly let out a banshee scream and started going off on how “Retards like you should just kill yourself. You wouldn’t be alive back in my day!” And just having a complete melt down.
I’ll admit it, I saw red. I stepped up and nodded to the poor boy and said “go get your manager” before turning to the woman who looked at me and tried screaming at me until she slowly realized, I wasn’t screaming back. I waited until she stopped and was looking around before calmly saying
“I might be young but in no way should anyone no matter their age be such a royal bitch to anyone.” She went to say something but luckily the manager, who had heard the things the woman had said, promptly canceled the transaction and told her to leave before the cops were called. I asked the manager of the boy was alright and she said she sent him home and thanked me for standing up for her worker.
I’m now at home still pissed off at that woman while happily enjoying the churros that were thrown into my meal.
Seriously just be a decent human being…

every road leads here

this is my gift for @aftgexchange‘s valentines exchange for the lovely @elswicked‘s prompt of andrew and neil meeting as kids. it was supposed to be cheerful, but then……………

(ao3)


Neil does not know a world without Andrew at his back. He’s always been there, a constant, reassuring presence. He’s almost like Neil’s shadow, if a shadow were prone to sarcastic comments and making sure Neil doesn’t pick too many fights he can’t win.

(Every time reminds Neil of the first. Some kid, one of the ones who’d clearly been given everything from cradle onwards, had decided he was entitled to Neil’s favourite glittery crayon. Neil, in turn, decided he was entitled to the other kid’s juice. And to forcibly take the crayon back, no matter how that would escalate events. Just before it got to any kind of tackle, Andrew turned up - and even though he was short Neil had no idea how he’d never noticed him before - and threatened the kid into leaving it be. Neil had tried to thank Andrew, and he’d shrugged and said, “‘S only fair.”)

(Andrew’s always been the same. All he wants is for things to be fair. Maybe a little more fair for his friends than anyone else, but isn’t that true of everyone?)

“Why did you pick us?” Neil laughs around the mouth of a beer bottle, looking into Andrew’s ever-clear hazel eyes.

“This isn’t gym, Josten,” Andrew replies. “And if it were, you wouldn’t be my first choice.”

“I’m the fastest runner you know. Fact.”

“Less so since you graduated high school. You got lazy.”

Neil rolls his eyes, an over-exaggerated gesture to minimise the world rolling with them. “Whatever, Minyard. Stop avoiding the question.”

“Not my fault your questions are vague.”

Neil would groan if he hadn’t had almost sixteen years of dealing with his shitheel of a best friend. (Even if ‘friend’ has never encapsulated all that Andrew is to him. He’d choose ‘soulmate’, because he’s sure there’s no one else who could ever understand the core of what it is to be Neil as well as Andrew does, but since Andrew rejects Neil’s friendship almost daily and scorns the idea of romance, Neil sticks to ‘Andrew’.) “Andrew. At the young age of… whatever. Whenever. Young. We were young. You stuck up for me so I didn’t get in a brawl with a rich kid who’d have fought dirty when all I wanted was my glitter crayon. And since then you’ve been more loyal than, like, an extremely long-lived dog, right? So what did you see in the dumbass who cared more about his crayon than childhood friends? And… whoever else. I know there were more,” Neil says, turning his grin to Kevin for half a second.

Andrew raises his eyebrows a fraction of an inch, a movement barely visible in the dim light, “Dumbasses who wouldn’t survive a day without me.”

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INTP and morality

Even I find it strange how morals don’t really matter to me.

Like I have a sense of good and bad and I generally adhere to it but I really just don’t care? Like there’s no feeling behind it. It’s just go along to get along. 

I was having a conversation about vegetarianism the other day and my stance:
The problem is not in the eating of meat (which is entirely natural and that’s just life) it is in the industry. Morally I disagree with the idea of farming and animals being bred for slaughter. I agree that if one is willing to eat meat then you should be willing to kill it yourself, and yet I wouldn’t. Because morally I’m against it. But I also do eat meat. Because I don’t really care. But I do care. But I don’t feel anything about it. And I’m not even sure how that works. So it’s easier just to ignore morality generally and focus on practicality. 

Damian Wayne/ Robin X Reader- As You Wish

I really tried to add fluff to this!! I really hope it’s enough.


You hissed in pain as you peeled your uniform off the wound you received during patrol.  It was a stab wound from one of Two-Face’s goons, but that didn’t mean it was painless.  Removing the blade was easy, but stitching yourself up was the problem.  Alfred would have had stitched you up by now if you returned to the manor, but you couldn’t go back there.  You were sick of the nonstop mental abuse from your partner, Robin, and tonight was the last straw.  You were patient and kept your mouth shut whenever he opened his mouth, but he took it too far.  Once your top was removed, you placed gauze on the stab wound and grabbed the needle and surgical thread you kept in your apartment.  As you were stitching yourself, you replayed what had happened a few hours earlier and wondered why he was always such an ass to you.  It wasn’t like it was your fault you got stabbed, you actually saved Robin from getting a knife to the heart, but you guessed that he didn’t appreciate you shoving him away from death.

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its-not-show-its-a-lifestyle  asked:

"I taught you to pick locks and this is what you do with it?" DeanxReader for the Drabble request thingie

Most nights you were fine on your own but some nights you were so consumed with your own racing thoughts you thought they might swallow you whole. Every night for the past week was the latter. You laid in bed, tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling for minutes that seemed like hours. You forced your eyes shut, humming your favorite songs trying to force yourself to sleep, but you couldn’t turn your brain off. You could’ve done things differently on this hunt. You were the reason Dean risked his life on that hunt 2 weeks ago. You were the reason Sam needed stitches hunting that wendigo 6 months ago. You fucked up again, just like always. You could’ve done better on a hunt 5 years ago and not broken your ankle. 

With a sigh and tears pooling in your eyes, you tossed back the covers and rolled out of bed. Your intent was to go to the kitchen and steal Dean’s secret stash of whiskey but you didn’t make it. Your thoughts stopped on Dean and you paused at his bedroom door, reaching out and trying the handle. Of course it was locked. Without thinking about what you were doing or how it could be intrusive, you pulled a bobby pin from your hair and quietly picked the lock, stepping inside and slowly closing the door. 

For someone who was normally so vigilant, he didn’t seem to notice you. You couldn’t help but be envious of him. He looked peaceful, more relaxed than he ever was when he was awake. The creases in his forehead were gone, all the worry lines in his face had vanished, he looked so much younger. “I taught you to pick locks and this is what you do with it?” Dean mumbled, not even opening his eyes to look at you. 

“I - sorry - I’ll go.” You murmured, choking back your tears and turning to leave. Dean’s arm reached out and gripped your wrist, stopping you from leaving. 

“Y/N.” Dean said, voice gravelly with sleep. “What’s wrong? You came here for a reason. Spill.” 

“I just…I can’t sleep…and I shouldn’t be here bothering you…just…I’ll -”

“Get in bed.” Dean moved over and pulled back the blankets, inviting you in. You wanted to argue and run away, but the look he gave you gave no room for that and you hesitantly crawled in. His arms wrapped around you, molding you to him perfectly, his warmth seeping through your skin down to your bones making you sleepy for the first time in days. “Better?” 

You nodded against him, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent that was uniquely Dean. “I know you beat yourself up over things that aren’t your fault. I know that a lot of times you think you aren’t good enough and you should leave. Sometimes I think you try to get yourself killed. I need you, sweetheart.” You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You’d harbored a crush on Dean forever but for him to reciprocate was never something you expected. 

You tears stained his t-shirt and you moved your head up, kissing his jaw and burying your face in his neck in response to his confession. You couldn’t speak without bursting into tears and he knew that, rubbing your back and burying his nose in your hair. You’d sleep easy for the rest of your life with Dean by your side. 

Drabble Requests are Closed

I think the Voltron team is cornering themselves

I don’t understand what team Voltron is trying to do. In my eyes, they kinda backed themselves into a corner when it comes to Shiro’s death.

The Voltron team is known for sticking to the original Voltron defender of the universe. Not exactly, but they have many similarities, and members of the Voltron team say it themselves in the Netflix Voltron 84’ series. If you don’t know already, in the 84’ version of Voltron {SPOILERS- not really??} Sven (original Shiro) dies, leading Keith to becoming the leader of Voltron and piloting the black lion. It’s very possible that the Voltron team could decide to go on a similar route, killing off Shiro.. but should they?
Most likely, you thought to yourself “no! If they kill off space daddy™ I’ll fucking END MYSELF-” that exact reaction is why it is a poor choice to kill off Shiro.


Nobody wants Shiro to die. You can lie to yourself all you want about how it would be badass for Shiro to die because not only is it paying respects to the original, but it would show that team Voltron ain’t fuckin’ around, and are willing to kill off one of there main character. But for the positives, the negatives are pretty hard hitting. Voltron demographic wether they like it or not, are primarily teens and young adults. It may not be the original demographic, I’m not sure but that’s what it is now. Im very certain they know this, and knowing this killing Shiro would be a VERY bad idea. Killing someone like Shiro that is very obviously a fan favorite, would be catastrophic- pissing there fans off to a whole new level. The amount of harassment they would go through if they decided to pull this, wouldn’t amount to any sort of defense, not even loyal fans that wouldn’t mind his death could stop the armada of anger.


On the other side of the spectrum, if they don’t decide to kill Shiro, the emotional scenes of Shiro talking with Keith about how if he dies, Keith would lead Voltron (Season 2; Episode 3: Shiro’s Escape) and the scene where Shiro tells Keith that one day he WILL lead Voltron (Season 2; Episode 8: the Blade of Malmora) would be completely meaningless.
Now there’s a certain rule I personally follow when it comes to watching a TV series, even animated ones.. every scene is done on purpose. This rule has only failed me maybe once or twice on shows that aren’t really canonical, but Voltron is. Every scene in a show is meant to serve some kind of purpose, and what other purpose would a scene like the one in Blade of Malmora serve? Hell, the entire episode is about Keith needing to control himself, and Shiro says in the beginning “you’ll have to control your emotions if your going to lead this group (Voltron) someday.” This branches off to a whole other topic- personally, I don’t think Keith is ready to lead Voltron.. I don’t think they should have him lead Voltron for a couple YEARS (in show years.) he seems too young and inexperienced to lead a group- Shiro said it himself, he’s gotta control his emotions, and I get that the entire episode was about that- but I doubt one episode is enough. He still shows signs of being too quick on the trigger- and the amount of backlash from Lance- imagine him thinking “how come Shiro doesn’t trust me to lead Voltron? How come he trusts Keith?” Wouldn’t be surprised if Lance grew spiteful. The thought of it gives me heartache..

But anyways back to my point.

The scene serves a purpose, and if they decide not to kill him the scenes would be meaningless yadayadayada- which I’m guessing would also piss off the fandom, but not by much. At least not as many as if they where to kill him off.

The ONLY way out of that corner I can see for them wouldn’t even really solve the issue, just cover it with a really good bandaid. The only way I see possible is if Keith is “leader” of Voltron for a temporary span of time. It would explain there previous issue of having those scenes exist, but at the same time it would be really unfulfilling for them to say things like “if I don’t make it- I want you to lead Voltron” but it would also make sense since he also says “someday” not really pertaining to it being at all permanent. It’s a very back and forth argument but overall, it would make more sense then either of the other two options by supporting both of them equally.

My assumption for season 3 is; Keith might be leader of Voltron for a while, and during this time, we’ll also see what Shiro is dealing with and where he is. It would be like showing two stories at once, as shiro would have no connection to the group until the end of the season.. this probably won’t happen, they’ll probably just pull a season 2 and get him back 3 episodes in, which I wouldn’t mind honestly- it’s all up to interpretation I guess.