#where can a girl ramble around in isolation these days?????

[words-and-pages]

We as a society need to start building lighthouses, castles, and remote stone cottages again

[nyctoaerah]

Yandere!Limerence!Giyuu Hc's pls? Both nsfw and sfw<3 your writing is so good btw! I'm inlove with limerence🤍🤍 sorry if it's not specific enough 🥹 I just can't get enough of giyuu<3

⋆♱⋆IN LIMERENCE

Warnings: Yandere Behaviors, Loads of Manipulation and Gaslighting, Stalking, Nsfw in the end, tiny bit of somno at the end. MDNI

Pairings: Yandere! Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Androphobic Reader

The moment that Giyuu finds out about your fear of men, he resorts to an act of shame: He pretended to be a girl, knowing full well how deeply traumatized you are by your male comrades—hell you’re even afraid of your own mentor — Uzui, so who’s to say that you wouldn’t be scared of him if you find out that he’s a male?

So In an act of desperation, he lowers himself so low, because he doesn’t want you to hate him, reasoning with himself that you already see him as a girl anyway, like, his pronouns suddenly turns from he/him to she/her whenever you’re near, not only that, he makes sure to make his voice as soft and as feminine as possible whenever you’re near, after all, he can’t have his pretty darling afraid of him now, can he?

He doesn’t mind wearing makeup or lipstick as long as it doesn’t jeopardize his cover. The other Hashiras were beginning to question whether Giyuu was transgender, and while this wounded his pride, his primary desire for you to be comfortable with him was more stronger than the shame he’s feeling.

He gets jealous whenever you’re near Mitsuri and Shinobu, because he knew damn well that those two girls obviously has feelings for you and they have a lot of chance with you, considering your androphobia — and the fact that there’s a 70% chance that you might be a girl kisser.

He doesn’t like the fact that the two girls, Especially mitsuri — who wasn’t afraid of showing her feelings for you, always hugging you and bombarding you with compliments. Because honestly, what’s the point of having those two girls around when you can have him instead?

He showers you with gifts and often treats you to outings, but truthfully? Those are just his ploys to isolate you from everyone else, after all, he craves your presence and has already sunk to great lows for you; and he definitely won’t let you slip away from his fingers.

He would always stalk you, so he would eventually find out the things that you liked, the things that makes you tick, your fear, and other stuff, and he uses it to his own advantage — especially your androphobia, saying things about the other hashiras, especially the male ones, about how they treat him so bad, and how they make him feel like an outcast. And honestly? you’ll have a hard time trying to find out whether he’s being genuine or not, because it was very obvious that the other hashiras dislikes him. The fact that he’s such a soft-spoken manipulator doesn’t help either

He’s totally into it when you play with his hair; it’s like his personal spa day, He’ll plop his head on your lap like it’s a throne, soaking up your ramblings like they’re the latest gossip,

Here’s where it gets a tad too cozy: whenever you’re yapping about the mysteries of the universe, and there he is, lounging on your lap, His fingers would start their little expedition up your thigh, but don’t worry, he’s a gentleman—he’ll halt if you give him a swat or tell him to stop. But if you let him continue? Well, let’s just say that’s a one-way ticket to a very different conversation.

Giyuu really loves pleasuring you with his fingers and mouth, his fingers would drill deep into your dripping pussy, while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears while he fingers you. Yet, beneath this guise of sweetness, a hidden agenda brews. He hopes—prays—that the intensity of your ecstasy will render you oblivious to the prominent bulge that would always tent his pants, whenever he would get the chance to get in your pants.

He totally shuts you down when it comes to him getting any pleasure, like, no way! If you did, you’d realize he’s definitely a guy, not a girl! So, it’s mostly him just giving you some action. Deep down, he’s kinda happy you’re not sexually active and just goes with the flow. And Honestly? He probably thinks you’re asexual. But man, when he gets all worked up and his cock starts leaking and getting painfully hard, he just ends up taking care of it himself. Sometimes, though, when you’re snoozing, he can’t help but use your hand to get himself off instead.

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐀/𝐍: WOAHHH, this is the first time i got asked for hc’s on one of my books😭😭 so this is actually pretty unique LOL. Anyways, this hc’s is based of my book: Limerence. It’s a yandere!kny book and it’s a harem — it’s why mitsuri and shinobu r said to have feelings for you:) you can go check it out on my wattpad! It’s the rewritten version, but if you read the quotev version (the previous one) it’ll make sense why reader thinks that giyuu is a girl, since the rewritten version hasn’t reached that part yet. But i suggest that you read the rewritten version more cause the orig is cringe af LOL.

[persephoneprice]

my brain is full of cobwebs, so you must excuse me rehashing something I definitely mentioned before in a fic (and also for the fact that this is sad), but I do in my head always imagine that if she survives until closer to the 74th Games that Snow kills her after whichever Hunger Games Titus (the D6 Tribute who resorts to cannibalism) is in (The Hunger Games, Ch. 10).

Even if Snow doesn't kill her, I feel like he'd make her life worse though. Perhaps, she gets isolated from society, assuming she and Festus are married, maybe Festus notably falls out of favor, ect. (I just think that Snow'd take out being reminded of uncomfortable memories out on people who also remind him of the same memories).

Anyway, I hope you have a good day even if it's busy!

omg abyssal in the ask box one of my fav sights!!

oh, oh wow. the idea of snow killing off persephone after the cannibal tribute deeply hurts. i know that seeing that- and there’s no way she did not see that- had to have affected her.

i would love to know what exactly you think led to snow killing her off! how did the cannibal tribute lead to him wanting to kill off pippa?

i can imagine a scenario where seeing titus leads to persephone having some sort of breakdown (seeing that + …everything else in her life) and that’s when snow decides she’s just too much of a liability to keep around.

or i could also see him reacting from a place of trauma and overcorrecting by killing off “all the cannibals” in the capitol as to prevent himself from having to relive the bad childhood memories.

i can absolutely see (and honestly think) at some point that persephone and festus fall out of snow’s favor. maybe there’s still enough affection there on snow’s end that he doesn’t kill festus, just makes sure he’s so far removed from elite capitol society that he can’t reach snow or do cause any harm.

of course, i can’t imagine that festus doesn’t know enough to be dangerous wherever he is- so snow may have no choice but to kill him off as a means of protecting himself.

i have the opinion that snow is affected by the trauma of his childhood into adulthood and i can see him trying to mitigate the affects of it by getting rid of the reminders of it- mainly by getting rid of the people who knew that version of him. he doesn’t want anyone around who remembered coryo- the boy who had to claw his way into remaining in elite capitol society, the boy who made the mistake of falling for a district girl, the scrappy version of himself. of course, i can also see him just feeling the need to get rid of everyone who knew about lucy gray. anyway, i’m just rambling now so i’ll shut up. sorry!

[bloomandcorey]

Hey!

How are you? I hope you drank enough water today

In this post, we're going to introduce you to the main characters in our story.

Oh, a note before we start, you can tell which one of us is talking by weather the writing is italicized or not! (L.B normal, Amour italicized)

All right, all right, let's get to the point. I hope you love them as much as we do!

Let's start with the Hero of our story, Corey.

In a quiet country home, amidst the shadows of a well-tended forest thicket, in a family of artisans, the soul of a boy named Corey was conceived. Early in his journey through life, he discovered a fondness for literature, nature, and the great stories of the past. However, a shadow of isolation and anxiety crept into his heart due to his difficulty in communicating with others. Often the boy went into the deep woods, carried away by his books, seeking solitude to read and immerse himself in the world of words.

With each passing year, Corey's reticence grew deeper and deeper, and insecurity and anxiety became an integral part of his being. Yet even in his darkest moments, his soul carried the germ of a desire for protection and a desire to be brave.

And so, at the turn of his ninth year, he met Bloom, a girl whose kindness and light penetrated through his gray thicket of anxiety, changing his life. She became not only his friend but also his inspiration, awakening his courage and determination. Bloom, albeit unknowingly, became his soul's guide to a unique world where fears gave way to courage and protection.

Fun Fact: When we started out on this idea, before Corey had a name, he was known between the two of us as "The Hero of Anxiety"! (True)

Now, a little bit about our darling princess, Bloom!

Bloom is the only child to the royal family, and is very sheltered and protected. As a child, she had a big mouth, and loved to talk and be around people. This was not the kind of perfect princess her parents wanted. They believe in a strict social ladder, and did not appreciate her chatting with guards and servents. As she grew older, she became more and more curious, inquiring about things her parents were trying so hard to keep from her. Her parents dreams of having a perfect princess to represent the royal family were crumbling.

So, one day they had enough, and permitted her to explore the forest outside the castle garden, so long as she's not bothering them in the castle. She loved it out there, it was freedom she'd never had before. Still, being the sweet, naive girl she was, she would always come home without question.

One day, when she was eight, she wandered further than usual, and stumbled upon a boy reading a book. Being the social butterfly she was, she was quick to try and talk to him.. and at first, her friendliness was not reciprocated.

But they warmed up to each other and became inseparable. She has never met another child before, he was freeing to be around. Corey had so much knowledge that she didn't know she had been longing for. She was attached to him in a way that she had never been before. They made the perfect match.

Fun fact: I used the Bloom palette when creating the Nightbloom Lily (and yes, the flower's name contains "bloom" for a reason)

Well, that's it! I hope we didn't give you too much of a rambling recap. Of course, in the future there will be more information about behavior, character, etc., but we decided to start here. I hope you will love them

Thank you for reading! <3

Bye!

[caninecomfort]

hello i heard you had feelings about lycanthropy and femininity. i would love to hear abt them (—canis-dentem, this is my main)

I am so glad you asked 😈 the inherent ties between lycanthropy and female biology are sooooo strong. I know it’s a theme that’s explored in the ginger snaps movies but I haven’t watched them oddly enough haha, I just realized it while working on a story idea a while back and did some research and found that other people have said it too.

basically the way that lycanthropy and the female menstrual cycle are both 30(ish) day cycles revolving around uncontrollable natural processes that happen to the human body. they both involve intense mood swings, physical pain, appearance changes (acne and oily hair etc for menstrual cycle, and obviously becoming a wolf for lycanthropy), and plenty of blood and gore. they’re also both something that is expected, no matter how much they affect a person’s life, to be kept quiet about because it makes other people uncomfortable or disturbed. even when you’re suffering you’re supposed to not talk about it for fear other people will judge you.

being a little girl and not understanding that getting my period was a sign that my body was healthy and thriving, I always felt so uncomfortable and ashamed of it even though I knew it was normal. I felt distinctly separated from other people when I couldn’t do normal activities because of something my body was affected by that I couldn’t bring myself to put into words. I think that’s such a tie into lycanthropy—a werewolf doesn’t usually understand their earlier transformations and is often in denial and refuses to admit even to themselves what’s happening. they have to skip out on their lives during the full moon out of fear people will see them for who they are. for both, the experience can make someone feel othered from society and their peers.

sometimes during my cycle I feel like my body and emotions are rebelling against me. my mood swings get so bad that I sometimes just have to isolate myself for a while so I don’t lash out at people. my cramps send me to bed for at least the whole first day of my period. this sounds all too familiar with lycanthropy, where werewolves often have to lock themselves up somewhere and suffer the pain of a transformation alone because they might hurt someone without wanting to.

then there’s the whole matter of a month-long cycle and different stages within it. the body preparing and gathering strength, then going through the big event of a menstrual period or werewolf transformation, then recovering physically from it.

since I was younger I have always liked to think of my period as a werewolf transformation. period cramps? no that’s just my bones and muscles shifting into my wolf form. mood swings? no i’m feeling aggressive because i’m a werewolf. etc. I still think about it this way and generally have always related to werewolves a lot as a form between humans and wolves.

the book such sharp teeth by rachel harrison turned my ears back toward this concept recently and got it bag on my mind! it was such a fun contemporary werewolf story with a cute romance and shockingly deeper themes about recovering from trauma.

for more on the topic…

thank you for asking!! I could ramble about this for ages. 🐺 🌕🩸

- jay

[thedarkone121]

Hello! Have a ramble card, you may ramble about whatever you like :3

Oh, Dust. Dust, my good fellow and now-fellow mutual, I don’t even know where to begin with this power you have given me… I’m ill-prepared for such a responsibility! But, I guess I can start my rambling off with some facts about Anne-Marie.

Anne-Marie is mixed-race, her biological mother originated from the Caribbean Islands but she fled to England during the wars for independence and to get away from her own family situation. Anne-Marie’s biological father was a wealthy Englishman, one who went after immigrant women. He’s a slimeball, plain and simple.

Anne-Marie has no desire to know her biological father. Jekyll is her dad and that’s end of it. Her mother, Isabella, is still alive but Anne-Marie doesn’t know nor does she care. Anne-Marie wants nothing to do with Isabella and would rather leave her in the past. They did not have a good relationship.

Anne-Marie did have a group of friends while she was at the Orphanage. She was the youngest so the older kids did their best to look after her. They were the ones who gave her the name Anne because of her tendency to question things by saying “And?”.

I meant to save this for a sketch on the first day of Pride Month but I guess I’ll say it here; Anne-Marie is asexual — like most of my OCs, to be honest 🤣 she falls more on the sex-repulsed side of things, which confused the heck out of Hyde. Speaking of Hyde, Jekyll and him were both very confused when Anne-Marie came out but they were still supportive in their own ways. They’re trying, okay? 🤣 They did have a huge sigh of relief when they realized that Anne-Marie wasn’t interested in fooling around with anybody when she reached her teenage/adult years.

Do not mention the words Anne-Marie and marriage in the same sentence around Jekyll. Jekyll does not want to think about marrying her off. He wants her to be the sole inheritor of everything he owns. He WILL delay marriage talks for as long as he can.

(In a future scenario where everything is happy, an older Anne-Marie does end up being in a nice queerplantonic marriage with a Jonathan Harker-inspired OC who is AroAce. Lanyon and Everly helped set it up.)

Everly is Anne-Marie’s piano teacher, something that happened not long after Robert first met the girl. The two got along together swimmingly and Anne-Marie would often play Everly’s sonnets as a form of lessons. Everly is probably the only Lanyon Anne-Marie genuinely likes. Everly sees her as the daughter she wishes she could have.

It’s such a shame that Anne-Marie doesn’t like Robert because those two would’ve gotten along swimmingly on dissing the upper-class while they were at parties. While Anne-Marie, like Jekyll, was taught upper-class etiquette but she didn’t thrive off it like her father. She’s actually pretty crabby whenever she had to deal with snobs. The only reason she is able to get away with acting as the perfect proper daughter is because Jekyll lets her loose it in either an isolated room or during the carriage ride on the way home.

She has a collection of scary stuffed toys in her room. Stuff like bears with large teeth and creepy button eyes. It freaks Lanyon and some of the Lodgers out. Jekyll has gotten used to them. Hyde is still weird out by them.

Anne-Marie’s tends to favor spicy food. Her favorite is that Chicken Paprika their family lawyer got from a fellow lawyer friend. Jekyll and Hyde can NOT handle spicy food but they still try to eat it with her. Hyde keeps going despite how much pain he’s in.

I guess it’s time to mention some stuff I have in regards to Jekyll being a dad. I can’t imagine him having any biological children. I can’t imagine this man procreating. In any form of media, might I add. It is easier to see him pick up a child from somewhere and him becoming a dad that way.

No matter how much his reputation means to him, I think Jekyll is willing to go to war if somebody ever sighted Anne-Marie the wrong way. If Anne-Marie tells her side of the story of an incident she’s involved with, he WILL believe her. Frankenstein learned that the hard way.

Him reading her bedtime stories are the only times Jekyll is able to sleep. Anne-Marie is a koala bear when she’s tired and Jekyll is never able to escape when she latches on. Welcome to the life of a dad, Jekyll.

Speaking of which, I almost forgotten to mention that I don’t think Jekyll ever planned to have kids. He likes children and sometimes don’t mind their company, but he never saw himself as a dad. Him adopting Anne-Marie was a decision that still surprises him to this day.

One last thing to close off the whole ramble, Anne-Marie is able to hold her stare for a long time. It’s something she developed when she was on the streets. She uses it as a form of intimidation, as she found out that people can unnerved by holding a long form of eye contact with them. She’s still well-known for this trick, even when she lost her sight. So if she is staring in a general direction, the Lodger who is on the receiving end of it is still freaked out.

And that’s end of the ramble! Not sure if this counts since I tend to be organized when I’m writing but thank you Dust Mint for letting me get some of ideas out!

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

I think I realized what an impossible task I have at my job to accomplish, and how the teachers view the library staff as a parasite.

Some of it is my fault.

But in retrospect, it's as if I sneezed loudly at a wrong moment, and now the Staff there treat me like a batman tier war criminal, and it's entirely unfair.

Example and dumb rambles of Teacher staff drama under the cut cus I'm fed up and just making this Tumblr post to vent if anything.

Today, there was a buffet potluck for Teacher staff. So I asked if I could have some. They said yes. But once I had food, they were upset I was eating "teacher staff" food and it wasn't for Library Staff.

They even sent the Elementary Guidance Councilor to tell me this. And they spoke in the same voice that they use for five year olds having a disagreement.

But this wasn't a disagreement, more of a misunderstanding.

I mean, did they think I'd eat the whole potluck? Did they want me to contribute?

I gladly would have. Heck, I could have given the parent teacher association money if that's what this was about.

I know why they treat me this way. It's because I took a few small foods from the PTO breakroom in the past without paying for them. Planning to pay back once I got my paycheck. (I'm not the only one to do this. The few teachers who I am friendly with do this all the time and assured me it was fine.)

This was over five months ago and I have since payed back the money, apologized for my mistake and misunderstanding, and have been trying to move on. As my job revolves around having good working relationship with the staff there.

So I will admit fault for my slip ups of work related hunger and poverty.

I can take responsibility for my actions, and I have sense been trying to build my relationships up since.

What I didn't appreciate was that they told me I was allowed to potluck functions, something I double checked and asked about, and made sure it was absolutely okay for me to have this food, which they said alright, then got mad when I took a small amount of food, locked me out of the breakroom, despite me having a key, and treated me like a war criminal or a Snorlax that'll eat the whole damn potluck.

Not to mention, my boss also wants me to "come up with something" to organize the library in a new way.

When they admitted personally that they don't know what they want.

So I don't know what to research.

But since I'm on probation on yet another job, I will get fired if I don't find or come up with something they want by the end of the month.

The task is impossible.

Partially self inflicted. I know I did some of this myself. But I don't think it's all self inflicted. I think it's also part of the Teacher Staff being very catty and clichey and just treating the library staff like unwanted parasites or outsiders.

And I don't think I deserve a lot of the isolation that they put me though. (I either have a choice of eating in the hallway where the library is located or a broom closet these days. And yes, the superintendent was the one who made this "compromise" so their food doesn't get "stolen" Granted, the custodians can't use the breakroom now either.... But the substitutes can.)

Either I'll quit or be fired by the end of the year.

I think I'm too autistic to have a job where building relationships and have everyone like you be part of my job description.

I feel I'm too autistic for a job anymore in general.

Anyway, long story short:

Me: oh cool. Nice food. Can I have some?

Them: sure.

Me: (eating) them: no, no. Bad girl. That's teacher food.

[bbunnyyy]

hey i was wondering if i could have a bakugo/todoroki/deku x reader (any one of them is fine) where the reader often rambles (had a past where they were often neglected and ignored) and they cant really control when it happens. so they end up rambling in class to a group when talking about something they really like, but the class ends up disinterested and kind of talks over her, before one of them (preferably Ochako cuz i have a burning hate for her that can only be fueled by fanfiction) kind of irritably cuts her off. after that the reader kind of goes radio silent and isolates for the rest of the day because they feel like a bother, and the worried guy of your choosing goes to check up on them, only to find them like laying on top of their cover's staring at nothing, a dead or empty look on their face. maybe they try and get them to talk, and eventually the reader opens up and says they feel like a bother/like no one likes them, maybe some light bullying from pink cheeks and gossip/rumors from other people in the school cuz they have a weak/villainous quirk and they deem them unfit, and even a bit of sad y/n backstory 😼 anyways i just want it to be heart-wrenching angst with little to no fluff until the end, can be from any characters POV. sorry if this is long i had a bit of a brain dump, feel free to change anything too!

oh also! cool quirk idea for the reader:

Bubble Pop: essentially the reader can create bubble of any shapes or sizes from their body or water sources nearby (its harder like that) and they dont pop unless the reader wants them too, so they can be used as bullets or trampolines to jump off of . (can even house people inside to help them escape) but when these bubbles pop they release hallucinogenic gas that can cause horrific hallucinations to those who inhale it. (feel and look real, like in schizophrenia disorder, can be very damaging to the victim). oh also maybe overuse causes the reader to become severely dehydrated, resulting is muscle cramps and liver problems, and hallucinations to themselves. also a heightened chance of schizophrenic disorder.

thats all i think.

IZUKU X READER

I like how you called him Deku 💀

I'm super sorry for the delay, I hope you like it <3

A certain pink-haired girl walked through the classroom doors, hair wet. "Bakugou has been such as ass for no reaaassoonnn." Mina pouted, laying her head on the table.

"Are you sure that's not because of your constant pranks on him?" Yaomomo questioned, hands on her hips. "Yeah, that's right. You do go overboard with your pranks, Mina."

Mina stuck her tongue out. "Awhhhh I can't help it, he's too fun to tease." "He's stuck up, isn't he?" Uraraka piped in, "He shouldn't have done that, that was wayy too mean."

"You're the only one that gets me, 'chako." Mina dramatically put her arms around Ochako's neck. "Bakugou's rude and unbearable, gosh. The only one he cares about himself. He's always mean to Izuku as well..." Ochako continued, huffing.

Todoroki and Izuku-kun walked closer on hearing what Ochako had to say. Taking a seat on the tables, listening to the conversation. "Isn't that a bit rude, Uraraka?" Izuku said nervously. "If Kacchan heard it-"

Before Todoroki could say anything, you spoke up. "I think Bakugou's that way because he's insecure. He looks like he only cares about himself, but when Izuku-kun was about to get kidnapped he was the first one to step in. Oh, and didn't he give you a sweater, Mina when you said you felt cold the other day?"

"You're right~ he's one of my bestest friends after all." Mina hummed. Ochako wasn't a fan of the fact you were the centre of attention, she made that clear by staring bullets into you.

"Even though he's rude to Izuku-kun- which isn't justified, He cares about Izuku a lot. I think Bakugou makes himself look confident and egotistical because he doesn't want to be seen as weak"

 Yaoyorozu seemed interested at first, but she was talking to Todoroki now and you could see some of your classmates yawning and others walking away. Ochako gave you a look.

"Not cause he's actually any of those things." Your throat dried up as you trailed off. Izuku nodded, smiling. But you didn't see that.

Uraraka put her hand on her cheek, tilting her head. "Woooww, that was so interesting [name]. Anyways, who wants to check out the new cafe after classes today?"

Ashido cheered and the girls nodded enthusiastically, agreeing to the plan. They crowded around Uraraka, shoving you out of the way in the process.

☾☼☽

After class, you walked to your locker deciding to retreat to your dorm for the rest of the day. You'd annoyed the people around you enough already. It's not like you had a right to be in their plans and bother them with your company. Sighing, you slammed the locker shut and walked to the dorm building.

Setting your heavy bag on the floor, you didn't bother changing out of your uniform. The sleeves of your blazer were damp with your tears. Well, whatever. You didn't mind being alone. Who cares about the opinions of some stuck-up teenagers anyways. Plopping yourself down on your bed, you decided to indulge yourself, indulge yourself in the pain your past held.

Thoughts trickled in slowly. It's not like you need company, you reassured yourself. You've done this before.

.

.

Did everyone really hate you? Were they just nice to you because you're classmates? Were you that boring?

<<I bet they won't even notice I'm gone>>

<<everyone hates me.>> You thought.

<<maybe I should just- >>

☾☼☽

Your little seance with your past self was cut short by a sharp knock at your door. Not that you bothered responding though. The person walked in and you didn't bother looking at them. What use was any of this?

"Hey..You feeling alright?" A squeaky voice asked. You turned your head to see the nervous green-haired boy standing there, looking at you with concern.

▻ "Uhuh." You replied.

"You don't sound alright. Mm...I know, do you want to talk about it?"

▻ "I told you, I'm fine. Dandy."

"Look, I'm here for you. You can tell me what's bothering you, don't bottle it up. You might feel better after you say it out loud, you know?" Midoriya said, seating himself down next to you.

You didn't want to keep it in anymore. It hurt and Midoriya seemed like he cared.

"It's just...I feel like everyone hates me. That they're just tolerating me cause they have to. You've heard the rumours about my grandfather going insane because of my quirk. They're just two-faced, talking behind my back and being nice to me to my face. it just sucks."

Midoriya hummed, understanding where you came from. "I don't think that's the case. Rumours come and go, we all have haters. We were worried about you because you haven't talked much today. I thought something was off when you looked sad in class today." You listened silently. He continued.

"The others are at the cafe, waiting for us. I volunteered to bring you there. Come on [name], join us. It'll be fun." Izuku smiled.

[icouldntthinkofabetternamesook]

It Devours! Ramble

I should be going to be but instead have this rant about an amazing book

killing God but God is representation of your trauma, lies and repression and destroying it ultimately does nothing to solve the issue because ultimately the damage is coming from inside of and your own refusal to face how what happened still lurks in your life, and God was never really a god just a scared cornered animal acting out it’s own survival and it only has the status of a God because people are using it as a symbol to project their fears and hopes on, making it bigger and having it killed for their satisfaction

the world simply being as it is and people projecting different world views on it in their own feeble attempts at understanding and comfort

religion being primarily based in community and belief, fulfilling and yet also restricting. Science being primarily based in isolation and uncertainty, necessary for safety and yet eternally contaminated from its own ideals by human nurture. viewing reality from any angle ultimately guarantees bias and as such by witnessing and trying to understand the world we fundamentally misinterpret it and how at the end of the day the important thing is to be open to other perspectives and view points and to open yourself up to human connection even if it means being wrong, both in the technical sense and in the sense that you hurt someone even with the best intentions and those good intentions do not undermine the hurt

Nilanjana is amazing. I way over identify with her lonely girl who only needs work not friends routine

Carlos really hates local government and would be weirdly fine with seeing NighVale as a whole burn if it meant keeping the specific people he loves safe and that is very sexy of him

Loved Pamela. She’s just so much fun, well intended but terrible at communicating and that fits into the border themes of connection doesn’t it

the Joyous Congregation of the Smiling God really went off on the aesthetic. both the pamphlet and the slide show sermon where so fucking good, a perfect mix of creepy, spiritual and well intended. there just enough authentic about the ideology to make you understand why people would fall for it and actually believe in what they say with just enough so overtly wrong it’s unsettling

there was little hits of the old Strex here and there, but for the most part this had no continuity with years 2 or 3 and thats kinda fine because it manages to take the themes and aesthetics of what came before and weave it into something new and amazing. the dessert bluffs and Kevin timeline is totally broken but time is literally broken so...

I loved all the digressing and meanderings of the plot to focus on other set-random Nightvale characters rather than on the main plot and it really drives home the fact that Welcome to NightVale is about NightVale as a community rather than about any one protagonist or narrative. it makes that fact that you can pick up any piece of NighVale with no prior knowledge and jump right in work all the more because everyplace is just a small one in the grand mosaic that is NighVale where every person and every world view counts and this circles back around to what I was saying about community 

and you know what lets circle back around to what I said about Carlos being willing to let Nightvale burn for his family and the lack of continuity with year three and there’s really 2 main things to say, the first being the slightly bizarre retcon to make Carlos’ otherworld stay 10 miserable years instead of 1 where he’s “just staying, not trapped” and how I think we can all agree that Carlos’ “come move to the dessert otherworld with me and abandon all your friends and family became this otherworld is so great for research and my science work babe” and the fact that they never really felt with how Cecil was straight up suicidal and deeply depressed for the later half of the year and the lack of actual resolution to what was going through Carlos’ mind when he decided to come back with absolutely no shown issue or effort, and it is so much weirder for Carlos to try to talk Cecil into moving to a place where he is actually secretly miserable

and the second thing about that is that when Carlos comes back he refers to importance of NightVale as a community rather than a place and how Cecil needs to reconnect wth the people around him and focus “on the everyone” and how Carlos really did primarily come back for Cecil and to be with Cecil and how he says that NightVale is where everyone Cecil loves lives and Carlos really have a very small protective domain of people considered his own

Cecil literally be used as a stand in for the concept of love and connection and dependability itself with Nilanjana contemplating of wanting to find her Cecil and wanting to be Cecil for someone, the emphasis on the radio tower where Nil and Darryl's relationship gets physical for the first time. It is weird to read a piece of Nightvale that doesn’t have Cecil's perspective coloring every thing and never allowing me into his mind but its kinda cool because we instead just see him as a distant pillar of love, support and community and how those are ultimately the things the book believes is universal to science and religion and how concerning that then kinda makes Cecil’s statement that he would give up all of Nightvale for Carlos, even if he would much rather not, but also how good it is that Cecil is allowed to be selfish about something when he has had so much of life decided for him, being prophesied to be the voice of the community, being a tree who’s fruit is fed to the people, who’s truck is chopped down and used to make their shelter and how he nearly did almost once give up all of Nightvale for Carlos by going the the Otherworld with him

It was great seeing Abby even if only for a second

An entire book in the Nightvale style of deeply unsettling and profound and funny is a wonderful idea, with human nature so beautifully captured with in the pages and prose

the appearance of happiness being valued above the actual emotion. teeth as a fragmented symbol, being a part of something natural being a small segment of a symbol of joy and goodness and of course that piecemeal symbol being divorced from context and being made so creepy in that isolation, teeth both as a part of smiling and a part of biting, piece in isolation that could be either joy or devouring

always love me good cult

always love killing God and the horrible thing it makes of us

always love the conflict between understanding and belief

by the way, and I think this is a good thing, Never thought that any of the devoured people where dead. it would fuck with status quo to hard if Larry or Rico where gone. made it more a mystery of how they where going to comeback than an actual threat and thats a good thing

and you know how Cecil never actually talks about Homophobia or racism or any kind of discrimination is his show? and then we step outside of his heavily edited, censored perspective and it turns out theirs still antisemitism and racism and sexism and stuff like that in Nightvale? I think it makes me appreciate Cecil more to know that his pride in his identity and his dedication to showing a mostly egalitarian world, is intact a dedicated choice that he makes about his own identity and not just a passive aspect of his environment. Cecil overall came across as a lot more put together and reliable from other perspectives than his own. I would not have expected Cecil to be able to cook or be an emotional pillar right after his nice almost died. I think he might just have really low opinion of himself and it comes through in the show.

It can be really hard to tell the difference between Cecil being dumb because he’s putting on a show for the audience and trying to get around censorship Cecil being dumb die to reeducation side affects and timeline shenanigans, and Cecil being dumb because he just is. theres so many layers of truth and deception

religion being about the community, belief and interpretation of it all even when the facts are horrible

My god Carlos would have killed so many people and 1000% believed that it was City Council hating him enough to cut off their nose to spite their face and never once stopping to question his remarkably biased assumption. He really took the conflation of hero and scientist hard and is complete willing to force the issue with his own self rightness. Baby Girl you are so deranged!!! and he’s completely head over heels for Cecil. nice to know it goes both ways

I would like to get some more Darryl and Nil feels but its 11:54 and I have work tomorrow

also catch me think that Luisa is ‘like that’ as a result of being re-educated a bit to hard after having a mental break down from watching one of her co-workers die from Strex. two scientists went missing that day and we still don’t know what happened. and least one could have died

Nils absolutely came to town later and not with the rest of the research group

Carlos really killed God with gasoline and a flare gun when It was helpless and pinned. Darryl really looses faith in God when that faith is corroborated by fact and the truth can never be as real as the fantasy. Nil and Darryl really don’t work as a couple blue they just don’t have comparable word views and Darryl winds up wth the childhood best friend he shares a life and community with. Nil hooking up with Kareem would create perfect symmetry of scientist and radio host, so they clearly won’t work because it not their story its just one their would parallel, but her trying for a Cecil stand in works thematically due to all that Cecil represents within this story and Kareem is closer to Nils world view as a acts as the rational outsider to Cecil’s world view in the podcast

Hey, hey. invisible food and how you may or may not be eating anything, about how devouring is about becoming full, finding nutrients and fulling your body and taking care of yourself. you are flesh and you take in solid sunshine to be able to move and live and choosing to take the risk of starving yourself, of putting nothing in your body when it needs something, hearing your stomach growling and contracting around imaginary food who’s taste you made up, because it would ruin the fun to find out if you were actually taking care of yourself. Jon Peters constantly insisting that he is a farmer because he is unsure if he actually is a farmer, how he lives in fear and shame that his identity, the identity passed down from his father, built with the brother he lost to a distant war, is actually a lie, that he failed at what he was supposed to do because of the facts of his environment and how he decided to make up a story, spin a fantasy rather than admit the truth. how Nightvale eats empty air and no one is willing to admit the truth of their hunger because nightvale is a town of lies, secrets and stories

contrasting that with the flesh and weight of the smiling god. how for all its lofty thoughts and belief at the end of the day its just blood and crunching teeth. what seems like a lie, a fantasy, a story is really just plain naked truth, the blood and sweat and bile that we are, how we are just lumps of grey matter draped in bone and at the end of the day we die and that Charlie Bair who wanted his ghost license so he could continue on after death, Charlie Bair who will one day pay 10000$ to have his brain scooped out and turned into a cyborg slave of the smiling god, how bodies are just parts, how his fear of death turned to eternal pain. the smiling god devours. you are food. you will die

a science that chooses lies and fantasy and a religion that chooses facts and flesh

there is no one with out the other

Kevin and Darryl and Kasper and church being a business that can’t feel like a business to all but those in charge. a cybernetics company and a church that looks like a cheap office building

community being death, love being clear so all you see is the real, practical things on the other side of it, love being what is, love being the act of going about your life, the fox eats itself, the fox kills its pack, you kill the fox, skin it and wear its face over your own, what could be fire or trees with what could be chemicals or water, what would harm one or save the other but you don’t know if friendship is toxic, destructive, mutualistic or beneficial, the many faces of a relationship 

Nils throwing up in church, in that yellow costume that hides all of what she is, that makes her just one in a crowd, you go to church hungry but she ate her fill and this becomes her salvation because it allows her to escape the pull and get away from the locked room of cultists she’s pretending to be a part of

starving and feasting. devouring and imagining

this wound up being more about the visceral then the communal

stand by for something more coherent, there is to much to say about this book

tldr; understanding of the world is fundamentally flawed due to human subjectivity so its only by opening ourselves to other world views can we find understanding

[chaifootsteps]

I don’t know if it’s me, but I just think Octavia is going to be an unintentional tragic character if anything that later half of season two suggests.

I remember asking myself two days before the latest episode aired, “wouldn’t Stella know that everything would go to Via?” Then low and behold her brother has to point that out to her. Then starts scheming to manipulate Via because they think she’s a gateway to getting the riches.

Like, the thing that majorly ticks me off is wouldn’t Stella know that? She’s been raising her with Stolas. Why does need to be told this if initially this arranged marriage also included a precautionary heir. There is nothing to say she wouldn’t know that.

Back to Via, her parents—well mostly Stella—but that could because Viv doesn’t want her interacting with her own daughter until they need to for Stolas reasons—refers to her as an “egg” and seemingly forgets she’s Stolas’ heir should he die. Meanwhile as Stolas is making his points, he calls Octavia “that girl” which is…I get they wanted to prove that he may not want to become like his father and wanted to give her a happy childhood, but dude why can’t you say daughter? I don’t know if Viv wants to even commit to this precautionary heir stuff because half the time they keep making Via repeat the same arc which eventually go on three times now.

Like, one of the reasons why parents who may not love each other would still want to stay for the kid which is real, and if they really wanted to commit to the precautionary heir stuff, maybe make Stella want to ask where the Grimoire is and needing to feel like “we have to keep this deal that we both don’t want to do, but our society has rules we must play apart of” and Stolas being torn with wanting to give Via a happy childhood but also knowing that the deal still exists so that just starts the further deterioration of the marriage between him and Stella. Maybe if in the S2 E1 flashbacks it could slowly show him becoming more withdrawn from them if they say he’s tired of it. The ideas from the first episode can work, but it focuses too much on retconning Stolas and Blitz characters that it should’ve focused on how his relationship with Stella deteriorated because neither of them want to be here and would play more into the nobility of the Goetia if that is slowly taking the driving force for the family.

If Via feels guilty of her birth, it could make become more isolated and depressed. The kid would feel guilt if they were the active cause of the pain if that is what the writers are attempting to imply but only loosely using the pieces that there and trying to spin it by making us feel more sad for the Dad than the daughter who is scared of being abandoned, thinking she isn’t wanted and apparently planning to guilt trip her even more.

I am with in being scared of them possibly turning the audience against Via instead of sympathizing with her. People either already understand where Stolas is coming from in S2 E2, which is fair, we don’t want invalidate victims of spousal abuse, but if they do it a third time then the writers run the risk of making the audience think Via is selfish or something. Or probably those who would blame Stella more whichever comes first.

Sorry for the ramble.

Nah, rambles are always welcome, we love rambles around here. And this was a great one!

Stolas, Stella, and Octavia are frustrating because all three are in an immensely shitty situation put together by forces outside of their control. None of them are handling it well, but Via's got the excuse of being a child caught between two deeply unhappy parents. There's so much potential there, so much to explore, and Vivzie and Brandon won't because that would involve holding Stolas accountable for literally any wrongdoing. It would involve letting Via be the bigger victim here, and we can't have that, can we?

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

You know, someday someone will write a Bioshock story that has these guys in it:

Because the idea of survivor camps hidden away in different parts of Rapture, is just too logical not to show up in a fanfic somewhere.

There has to be at least a small subset of people in Rapture who never got into splicing. It can’t literally just be Sinclair, Grace, Sophia Lamb, Tenenbaum, and Stanly who never touched the stuff and lived to 1968.

Like the couple that tried to escape in that crashed bathysphere that we find early on into Bioshock 2. They don’t sound like splicers, they sound completely coherent (something splicers don’t tend to sound).

I just love the survivor idea so much. That and how there would have been be a pneumo trading system with them. Which I think could have replaced the vending machine system, at least in some parts of Rapture.

Such as Dionysus Park, where it’s been flooded since before the war. So all of the vending machines (or at least their content) should have logically been ruined.

Different traders would focus on different things, as you can tell the picture above is of the ammo trader’s inventory.

It’s just that when I really got into looking up removed content from the games this is one of the things I was sad never made it into the final game. So I’ve always wanted to see someone write a fic exploring the idea.

So I’ve got fic idea below, involving Eleanor’s childhood friend Amir being a survivor if you want to read any of it:

Personally I’ve always wanted to see a fic with Eleanor’s childhood friend Amir turning out to be a survivor. Just because Eleanor deserves nice things, and should be able to escape Rapture with her childhood friend on a stolen submarine like she’d wanted too as a child.

Also it’d just be a great reunion anyways, because you know both Eleanor and Amir would think the other is either dead, or spliced to the point it’d be less horrible to think they’re dead.

The survivor camps are supposed to be isolated from the rest of Rapture. No splicers or splicing among the survivors means no reason for little sisters to come around because there would be nothing to gather. The survivors wouldn’t care about Lamb and what she has to say. She’s just another adam obsessed leader of the most recent cult of personality. Just like Atlas, and Fontaine, and Ryan. Everything she says just sounds like weird drug cult nonsense to them.

Amir might not even know Eleanor survived the war at all if he doesn’t know her last name. Because my guess is that the last he heard of her was that she was seen around town as a Little Sister, and then the civil war broke out and she was gone. They were both pretty young kids back then, so Amir could very well not even know or remember Eleanor’s last name was Lamb. [After all, we the audience never learn Amir’s last name from Eleanor. He’s just Amir.] So even if he does hear Sophia’s sermons about the “People’s Daughter” and the random Splicer’s ramblings, and that girl being referred to as Eleanor. The idea that it could be the Eleanor he knew from childhood doesn’t even come to mind.

Eleanor who punched him in the face without an ounce of hesitation the first day they met. Who was sneaking out of her house so frequently her controlling mother installed a security system to keep her inside. Who, when they were kids, once looked him in the eye and asked, completely seriously, if he was a dog eating dog in a human suit. He’s supposed to think that girl is this weird cult’s all forgiving, all knowing, messiah figure?

Eleanor was feral, and Amir knew that. It’s the whole reason they were friends.

So there’s only 4 options in Amir’s mind: A) Eleanor died as a little sister during the New Years Eve Riot, because that’s when she disappeared, and a lot of people died during the riot. B) Eleanor survived the New Years Eve Riot, but later died as a little sister. Death was very common among little sisters, it’s why little girls were worth so much in Rapture. C) Eleanor survived the riot, and was one of the lucky little sisters to get swept up by Jack Ryan and Dr. Tenenbaum and is now living a normal life on the surface, with Rapture being just a distant memory. [God does Amir hope this is what happened.] Or lastly D) Eleanor survived as a little sister all the way through to being turned into a big sister. And she’s now one of those shrieking, murderous giants running around Rapture. [The option Amir dreads the most.]

Eleanor on the other hand definitely hasn’t heard hide nor hair of Amir since she got swept up in the Gatherer program. Sophia didn’t want Eleanor to have friends anyways, and Eleanor was actively breaking out of the house in order to go see Amir and the rest of her friends.

So when Sophia found Eleanor again she 100% kept her under lock and key, and certainly wouldn’t have told Eleanor anything about her old friends. Friendship meant a more significant emotional attachment. Friendship meant favoritism among the masses. A flaw in the utopian mindset that Sophia was obsessed with molding her child to have.

So Eleanor assumes that Amir was killed as a child during the civil war, or that he’s possibly a splicer, but she finds the second idea highly unlikely. The idea that Amir could have survived as a non-splicer survivor doesn’t really cross her mind, as the non-splicer survivors rarely cross her mind.

Eleanor is in a prison and can only see and hear into the world beyond where the little sisters are. The non-splicer survivor camps had long since blocked up the little sister vents that lead to their camps. Due to the fact that a big daddy would never be too far behind one. Along with the possibility of a splicer following the adam rich smell of a little sister into their camp area.

Most non-splicer survivors who are scavengers (who are the ones how leave their camp/safe area to find supplies) tend to be older than Eleanor (and Amir). After all, parents who managed to keep their kids alive, sure as hell wouldn’t be trying to send them off into the dangerous splicer ridden battle field that is the city beyond their safe area.

So even when she gains the eyes and ears of the little sisters, Eleanor doesn’t ever see proof of Amir still being alive. Or even being a still living splicer from the memories of dead splicers.

[always-andromeda]

Hi! Sorry to just pop in and ramble about Religious Trauma™️ but I saw your previous couple of posts and wanted to say that I've had such similar experiences!! I was raised Catholic (I am no longer Catholic tho) and at Youth Ministry (so like, middle school mostly), they did a thing where they passed a chocolate bar around to all the boys and had them break off a piece so that when it came back to the leader it was all gone. And of course that was meant to represent a woman when she has premarital sex with too many men: "there's nothing left for her husband." I've also had friends who were raised religious say that they've seen similar things (I think they have a name actually, like "purity exercises" or something???) with the boys chewing gum, spitting in a glass of water, or plucking the petals off a rose. And now that I'm older I am just so completely horrified. Like WHAT??? That is so beyond not okay.

Anyway, sorry to jump in with negative stuff, but I think it's so important that we have these conversations since many of these types of religions try to shame people into silence or intentionally isolate them from the community if they choose to leave.

But to end on a slightly nicer note, Maddie Zahm has an incredible song called "If It's Not God" which is all about her coming to terms with her own beliefs and fighting through her religious trauma. Would highly recommend to anyone who hasn't heard it who's struggling with similar issues!

Okay um yeah anyway, sorry! I hope you have a fantastic day/night that is as free of religious trauma as possible! 💙

Hey, here on spicedchaiandromeda welcome rambling with open arms because ya girl is a massive rambler herself, so don’t you worry!! And don't apologize for the "negative" subject matter because I really value these conversations as well!! Putting a read more tab under this so I don't clog up my mutuals dashboards lmao <3

That being said, it truly is kind of horrifying the amount of times I've heard afab friends of mine recount these kinds of experiences? I've seen these kinds of ideas come from Mormons, Catholics, Jehovah's Witnesses, etc. I just tend to say "Christians" and "Christianity" because that's what I and nearly everyone around me was raised with. These ideas aren't just confined to the teachings of different religions, but I will say that the echo chambers that many religious groups put themselves in allow these ideas to thrive.

Thank you so much for the music recommendation! I absolutely love the song and I feel like I'd love to listen to more by her!! On the note of music, I'd also love to recommend the EP Preacher's Kid by Semler. They're a queer Christian artist and they're everything that I ever wanted from a Christian artist when I was a little queer teenagers.

While I myself am kind of loose on what I believe, I'd like to think that there's a higher power out there that doesn't stand for this level of shame and guilt that organized religions can oftentimes breed. And I want anyone who reads this to know that if you have religious trauma, this will always be a safe place to express your feelings and frustrations. Those safe and warm communities that religious groups love to preach about can also exist for us. No matter where you are on your religious/spiritual journey, please know that you are loved and valid and I send you all of the well wishes and support that I possibly can. Take care of yourselves, friends. 💞✨

[voidze]

Can you elaborate on that one post qhere you said one of tatsuki fujimotos reocorring themes was about messing with gender?

sure, sure! i gotta be honest it's an idea that's still brewin', i'm still making my way through his works. and some of it is probably gonna seem real small in isolation to some folks, so it's totally fair if people don't feel the same way.

but for example, in his oneshot manga "look back," the two girls depicted are meant to represent him.

he has a manga called "woke up as a girl syndrome" where a guy suddenly wakes up as a girl one day.

he has an explicitly trans character in his manga fire punch - togata, who i fucking love btw. and i really like the way togata was handled. it really seems like it was coming from a place of genuine, like, kindness? just like sincerity? it wasn't some joke or something. they didn't belabour the point, in fact togata hated when people put too much of a magnifying glass to his transness, he didn't like being put in a position where he was meant to constantly educate people about his identity, or where they treated him with "kid gloves" (in his words). he wanted people to look at him and see not just his transness, but see him as a whole person. and there's just certain panels i could analyze for a bit just for togata, but yeah, i found him to be deeply relatable in a lot of ways. it feels isolating sometimes to feel like the odd one out in like, Literally Every Situation. i feel that.

even in "sayonara, eri" i feel like he was representing himself in both the main character, who is a boy, and eri, who is a girl. i mean, one of her whole things is how much she loves movies... so is togata's. and fujimoto is a known film buff.

of course i'm not speculating on the gender of a complete stranger real human person, because that would be really rude and not my business etc. but i do see this theme of playing with gender. expressing oneself and experimenting with that expression via art. which is cool, people should be allowed to do that!! people playing with gender/gender expression through art is awesome! regardless of one's gender, people should be allowed and encouraged to play around with gender, figure out what they like and what they don't, you know, all that good stuff.

idk if any of that makes sense or is... convincing? to people? lol. like i said i still have more of his works to read as i'm piecing together stuff like this, like, the different themes i see in his works, even his real early stuff as a teenager. it's been real interesting!

anyway uhh sorry this is real rambly, anon. if you got through this and you have any input you can send me another ask or smth, i like being able to talk about this stuff ^^

[gallusrostromegalus]

Consider also the other way.

A family has a child who is born strong in the force- it almost ripples off her when she screams and cries as infants do. The Jedi are waiting by the door when the parents bring her home, her arrival having sent ripples in the force weeks before.

Please, they say. We know you love her. We know she is your first born, and that she is special to you the way that all children are special to their parents. But this gift comes with it's own costs. She will be strange, she will be destructive without meaning to, she will see and know things that will frighten her and will frighten you. she may even accidentally kill without proper training. Please, for your sake and hers, let us raise her where she will not harm others and be understood by her peers.

And the family says no. She is OURS, and ours to raise.

And the Jedi can do nothing. To force the issue is tantamount to kidnapping, and inexcusable.

So they let her go.

The problems begin before she reaches her first birthday. A baby with the power of the cosmos at her command is a dangerous thing- objects shatter and splinter when she cries, there is no place out of reach to her- if she wants a cookie, she can pull the whole jar off the shelf. But they try. She is their child, after all.

It gets worse when she starts to speak. Secrets are thrown into the light of day, disturbing questions asked, and she still cries- not from her own distress now, but from horrors seen across time and space, too large and fraught for such a small being to handle alone, but there is nothing her parents can say to comfort her. She develops means of protecting herself on her own- unpredictable aversions and triggers, hiding away from the too-loud feelings of others, rituals to stave off the horrors that never work but the compulsion is there the same. They try, but her parents know they are failing now. She isn't growing up like the child they expected and planned for, she isn't growing up like any child they know, she hardly seems like a child at all some days-

-And just like that, she goes from being their child, to their burden.

They still try- but they're trying to manage her now, not raise her. Doctors are called in, Medications are tried, and then 'alternative' treatments and therapies and then 'unlicensed professionals' and eventually for the sake of their sanity and the safety of her siblings, she is sent away. Not to the temple, but to camps and then retreats and then institutions. Only ever for a few weeks at a time, she is still theirs and they can't burden anyone else with her, and each time she comes back less aggressively bizarre, so the treatments must be working right? It's not like we've trained her that she'll be punished with isolation and torture for 'acting out', right?

And it goes like this, until she is twelve and alone at home- her family is away so that her sibling scan have a "Normal vacation, for once", and a documentary comes on.

It's about the Jedi.

They don't do documentaries often, but sometimes its good to let the public see how the mysterious organization operates. There is a live interview with a girl her age, who has just become the 'apprentice' to another Jedi, and she is bubbly and excited and rambles on and stammers as her mind outruns her mouth in a way frieghteningly familiar to the girl, and she tenses as the Master approaches, anticpating punishment- she always gets yelled at or smacked or worse when she gets like this.

Instead.

An affectionate hand is put on her shoulder, assuring her of his presence and letting her continue to speak. She babbles on, and the camera pans upward to her assigned guardian.

He is looking down at this girl with such affection, such pride, such LOVE-

A whole alternate future spins out before her at once, where her parents had relented and admitted they didn't know what they were doing, and given her up. A future where there wasn't such breakable furniture around. A future where her nightmares were met with sypmathy and understanding, a future where shew as encouraged to move the furniture hands-free or make the flowers bloom or predict next week's news- a future where-

-where she could have been LOVED.

The resulting explosion takes out two of the walls and the nearest transformer, plunging the county into darkness while she flees into the night.

She doesn't see the rest of the interview, where apprentice and master alike flinch, at the sound of a breaking heart and the apprentice sobs, trying to reach out after the shadow vanishing into the night, and her master reaches immediately to comfort her.

thinking about how so many parents who give their children to the jedi order did so because they want their kids to be raised safely, to have the care that their first family can’t give them, to be loved and understood by their peers and teachers and guardians; how much devotion and pain goes into that decision; and how that means so many jedi become part of the order due to the ultimate expression of love without possessive attachment

[rainybyday]

Graves aren’t the only place people die and rest

People don’t die at their graves, nor do they all die from accidents. Logically Danny knew this, he knows this. 

Maybe it’s because of Amity Park. Amity is just a small town, a place out of the way from the rest. It’s not completely isolated but it’s not really close to any other town or city as well. 

Then again, his ancestors did burn witches so it might have added more into his surprise in later years once he realizes what ‘dead’ is. 

It started off as one of mom and dad’s normal ghost hunting trips. It was a new location and this time both he and Jazz were being brought with them since it was the spring break. The location was an empty cabin, it was old but well cared for and clean. The couple that owns the cabins said that some unusual actives were happening which caught the interest of his parents. And as usual, they had to get rid of the ‘spook’. 

Danny didn’t care as much as he should have, having grown up with his parents' wild urges to find anything remotely close to their research of ghost and getting rid of them. Ever since he became Phantom, he started to care a whole lot more since, after learning and understanding the spirits of the dead, were just people who can’t officially cross. 

But that wasn’t the story. It was when night fell, did he realize an important fact about ghost. 

It was a night flying, just a bit of air and quiet time after dealing with his parents rambling all day and avoiding their weapons. He needed a breather, and nothing brought he more peace than a nightly timed stroll. 

Then that's when he felt it. 

A ghost was nearby.

Huffing that his parents were right, he flew towards the direction of the ghost he detected.

Now Danny isn’t a stranger to childlike children ghost. Sidney and Youngblood were one of the few child-like ghost he met. Cujo was a dog and others like Ember and Kitty were practically teenagers when passed on. 

(And he himself knew that his death should not have happen, should never happen. He was a child when he lived, and he was a child as he died. But he likes to think the moment he became Phantom was the moment he had to grow up.)

In other words, he wasn’t a stranger to young looking ghost.

He was a stranger, however, to the tense aura of fear-help-sorry-fear-fear-hurt-pain-scared-scared-mom-help washing over him as he looked upon a girl was no older than he was, crying over a crack in the ground. 

It was the first time he saw the effects of a newly killed ghost. 

Things became a blur after that, but the moment Danny woke up with white eyes watching him in curiosity did he remembered what happened. 

Her name was Anna, she loves to do photography. She wanted to take pictures in the woods. She saw a man in the woods. She turned around. She made a mistake. She died with a stab wound and her body was left to rot in that crack in the ground. She wasn’t buried. She was killed and left behind. 

She died two months ago. 

That was when Danny remembered that not everyone can die a quiet death. 

(He helped her cross over and brought her to a city in the zone. He didn’t want to leave, not yet, but he knew he had a duty and promised to visit. 

It took a couple of weeks until he saw her smile through her endless tears.)

Then months passed and more trips became a common thing during the summer break. Since it was the summer, their ‘ghost hunting’ trips would take them further away from Amity and all over the state. 

In that one summer season he found other ghosts that were just like Anna. Some in alleyways, others on the road, some at gas stations, a few in front of their homes and the scary sad few that were found in the middle of nowhere. 

Murdered, killed, car accident, strokes, hunger and more.

Death is not something Danny thought of as scary. He thought that those that had died already, those that where ghost, the scary ones. He forgot that death was not something everyone wanted.

(He repressed the memory of how painful his death was.)

But he learned, he remembered, and he helped. 

He wanted to help, to help those that died to soon or to sudden, He wanted to help the ghost that seem so angry, so sad, and the few that looked so empty and helpless that they look worse the living. 

Those looked like they never lived at all.

So, he helped, he helped because this was all he can do. If he can give at least one ghost a peaceful passing, then he can trade those few hours of sleepless nights happily. 

half a year later his parents chose to make an extended trip during the winter break (which he didn’t mind since they would miss chrismas in Amity Park, a miracle all on its own.)

The problem is that the place they wanted to take a trip was in Gotham. 

A city where crime and death rates are at their highest.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw a ghost in Gotham, however, he was surprised when most of the ghosts seemed to be far more calming then all the rest. 

They did not wail in sadness nor did the scream to the high heavens of the unfairness of it all. No, they simply watched over the people that lived there for years and lifetimes more than them.

He thought that it might be easy to take them across the zone and back to their home because of how calm they were, how reasonable, however, that was not the case. 

Instead, they wanted him to help Gotham and the people that lived in those very streets. 

He should have said no, he should have turned away, heck, he should have dragged them back to the zone and be done with it all. 

But he looked deep into the eyes of the dead citizens of this crime filled city and saw sadness. Sadness for the living that had to walk a life of danger, a never-ending release. 

They cared not of their own undead lives but the ones that have yet to die. 

And the undead teenage can only sigh before reaching out his hand as a sign of peace. 

“Who would you like me to save?”

[novacqnes]

insomnia // rosita espinosa

summary: grappling with heartbreak and her sexuality Rosita finds solace in you and a little more.

warning: very brief smut (fingering, masturbation)

word count: 2.2k

pairing: rosita espinosa x fem reader

a/n: noticed a lack of rosita fics on here, if you guys enjoyed please don’t forget to reblog I really appreciate it :)

Loneliness was an unmistakable feeling. It was the depravity and isolation that came with being alone that made living unbearable. It was a feeling that Rosita knew all too well but she was good at masking it. After all, she had Abraham, someone who she’d known since the start of the end and he wouldn’t dare leave her- until he eventually did. But there were more men after Abraham, all of whom meant nothing to her, none of them could replace the growing loneliness she wrestled with day after day.

From the moment Rosita emerged from the tank by Abraham’s side you were in awe. Not just by her physical appearance but the way she cared for people, especially those she loved. She was fierce but in an a passionate way- being loved by Rosita was unlike anything else, or so you imagined. There were many things stopping you from professing your long held crush on her; the first began with the 6ft blue-eyed ginger with a loaded machine gun. The second was that Rosita was presumably straight. She never talked about girls or even hinted at a possible attraction to them which made you doubt the possibility that she’d ever reciprocate your feelings. 

So maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was curiosity that led Rosita to your doorstep for the first time 6 weeks ago. That night Rosita wandered around Alexandria aimlessly until she came across your dimly lit house on the corner of the street. She didn’t have a particular goal in mind but before she knew it she was at your front step, ringing the doorbell.

When you appeared Rosita was shocked by the absence of fatigue and dark circles under your eyes. You looked put together, almost as if you weren’t sleeping in the first place. It made her feel embarrassed to be standing in front of you with nothing but a tank top and shorts. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked.

Rosita looked more flushed than usual. And any other day you would’ve blamed it on the scorching Virginia heat. It was something about the way she stood in front of you, out of breath, balled fists and messy hair. You knew there had to be something more. 

“Yeah, I saw the light from outside. Can I come in?”

You opened the door a bit further to let her in when you finally saw it. The dim light over the fireplace illuminated the room to where you were able to finally get a clear view of Rosita. You hadn’t realized it before but her eyes were red as if she’d been crying for hours.

“Sorry for the mess, I can clean it up if you want to sit down.” 

Rosita had only visited your house a handful of times yet this was the first time she truly got a good look. There were candles lit all around your living room, the couch was pulled out and numerous books, pencils, cigarettes, poems and drawings spread all across the mattress. 

“No- don’t it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She remarked, a drawing on the corner of the bed catching her eye. 

She sauntered over to it picking it up, it was a drawing of Michonne. Around her dozens upon dozens of flowers drawn meticulously to outline her locs. Around her locs were splashes of color that only enhanced the picture.

She stood in disbelief, “You did this?”

Rosita was astonished, she’d never seen anything like it. She couldn’t fathom that something so beautiful could come to life in the world they lived. A world of pain, loneliness and fear. 

“Yeah, I tried to get the eyes right but they look off-“ You rambled.

“Y/n, this is beautiful. Is that what you do all night?”

“Pretty much, I can never really fall asleep so I find something to do, to keep myself busy.”

“Is there more? Can I look?” She urged, her eyes falling on more.

“Knock yourself out.” You chuckled, giddy excitement ran through your body as you watched Rosita face light up at the sight of your creations. 

She sat on the mattress reading through the poems- your poems. She found herself smiling at your handwriting, the way you wrote with passion and pursuit. Each and every drawing she came across made her heart swell, especially the ones of the group. Something about the way you drew people felt majestic. The way people wanted to be seen as something more than themselves, as something greater, you displayed through each stroke. 

Rosita kept looking until she came across one at the edge of the bed, you began to panic recognizing the figure through the page. Before you could rush over and grab it she was already on it, flipping it over to see herself. 

At first she was speechless, it felt as if she was staring at her own reflection. In the pit of your stomach several knots formed as you stood by anxiously hoping she wasn’t creeped out or hated your drawing. You picked your cuticles hoping to distract yourself from the unnerving silence. 

At last a painful smile broke through Rosita's face as she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. 

She hated it.

You stuttered, “I’m sorry Rosita, I tried my best but I could redo it if you’d like—“ 

“No, no- Y/n this is perfect, you’re perfect. I love it.” She reassured.

“Then what’s wrong?” You asked, joining her on the side of the bed. 

“Abraham. He left me.”

Rosita filled you in on how it happened. When she came into the room they shared together and he was packing. He didn’t offer her much of an explanation besides the fact that he now knew that she wasn’t the only woman in the world anymore. But you both knew it meant he’d fallen for someone else and kicked Rosita as well as all of the years they’d spent together to the curb. 

“I’m not upset that he’s found someone better for himself, you know? It hurts like hell but it’s how he did it. Like I was nothing.” 

Anger bubbled inside of you as you found it hard to contain your thoughts. You’d always created a picture of what you imagined Rosita and Abraham's relationship to be. You thought of them as some sort of unbreakable force. They weren’t joined at the hip like Maggie and Glenn but their loyalty to each other spoke for itself. Rosita would do anything for him and until now you assumed it was the same back.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Y/n—“

“Listen I know you love him and all but he’s still a dick, and I’m entitled to believe that.” You said curtly.

She chucked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She held up the picture of herself. 

“The way you drew me, I want someone to see me like that. Strong, beautiful, unbeatable.” She gushed, placing a hand on your clothed thigh. 

Someone. Although she didn’t say your name directly, it felt like she was talking about you. Like she was calling out to you and once again you felt the heat rush to your cheeks but this time you said something.

“You are.”

Rosita blushed, nervously shaking her head as she sensed the atmosphere shift. The vanilla scent from the candles made her feel like she was walking on air. How she so deeply wanted to lean in and kiss you right there yet she held back. She pulled her hand in, placing it back in her lap. 

She grinned, “I really needed this Y/n, thanks for being an insomniac.”

“Anytime.” You mumbled, heart sinking as you felt like you’d driven her away. 

She headed for the door clutching the picture in her arms shooting you one last bittersweet smile. Once the door closed you flung yourself onto the bed. You screwed up you thought, you let your feelings get in the way and it chased Rosita away. Now you really weren’t going to sleep. 

Little did you know Rosita hadn’t let the tension deter her from seeing you. Every day since that night she found her way back to your house. Sometimes it was to talk, admire your work, but truly it was because she liked being around you. That night Rosita practically begged you to let her model for you. She went around all of Alexandria collecting acrylic paints and a canvas for you to work on. When she finally arrived she was bursting at the seams with excitement waltzing through the door. She dumped the tools on the pull out bed.

“You’re way too excited for this.” You giggled, setting up your workstation.

“Never been more ready for anything in my life- you know I had to play a game of chess with Eugene to get those fancy paints for you?” 

“Chess?” 

“Yes, chess! It lasted a whole 3 hours. You should be thanking me.” She exclaimed.

You smirked, “I’ll make sure to thank you after, have a seat.”

Rosita took a seat on the bed as you settled on the stool behind the canvas. You meticulously studied her face and you noticed it had a new joy to it. Over the last few weeks you could feel Rosita’s confidence slowly beginning to build back up. There were a few setbacks but she was repairing her heart with your help, every step of the way. 

You guys had grown extremely close as Rosita began to spend the night, but you guys never slept in the same bed. Since the first night you were careful not to cross any lines with Rosita, your relationship was strictly platonic and it was going to stay that way. 

With each stroke you replicated the beautiful woman seated in front of you. You covered each and every inch of her body accentuating the slightest detail. 

“Almost done there?” Rosita called out, growing a bit restless.

“Almost….” You answered back, adding the finishing details to the portrait. 

Once you were finally satisfied you turned the canvas around allowing Rosita to see. A heartfelt smile spread across her flushed face as she admired the art.

“That’s you,” You beamed, taking a seat right next to her.

“Y/n…. I don’t even know what to say, it's beautiful.” She cooed, turning to look at you. 

For a second you felt time stop as your eyes connected. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you caught a whiff of her maple scent. Instead of pulling away Rosita placed a gentle hand on the side of your face moving in to kiss you. Her lips were so soft, you couldn’t think straight as her hands ran up and down your body pressing herself further against you. 

“Wait no-no.” You shook your head going to remove her hands from you.

“What’s wrong?” 

“You don’t really want this.” You croaked. 

“What?”

“You’re heartbroken because of Abraham so this is your way to cope, you don’t really like me.

She began, “Y/n-“ 

“No-“

“Y/n, listen to me.” She cupped your face so you could see she was truly serious.

“I like you and I want to be with you. This isn’t some phase or coping mechanism. I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. You make me want to be better and I hope I can be that person for you. Please let me.” She pleaded.

You knew she was telling the truth, you could see it in her eyes she was being genuine. You’d gone down this road way too many times to know that you just needed to trust her, you felt it deep down that you could.

“Okay,” You nodded, moving your hands, allowing Rosita to continue.

Something about the way she kissed you, the passion behind it made you fall all in. The kiss grew more fierce as she slipped her tongue into your mouth causing you to moan. Her hand traveled to the band of your sweatpants before looking at you for permission. 

“I’m not experienced, when it comes to girls. But I want to try…can I touch you?” She muttered in between kisses.

“Yes, please.” 

You placed your hand over hers slipping it under your pants and underwear, guiding her in the right  direction. The pad of her thumb gently connected with your clit as it sent a shiver through your pussy. She began to rub tauntingly slow circles kissing up and down your neck. 

“Just like that.” You moaned, as the pleasure built inside of you. Seeing how this affected you Rosita applied more pressure to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you.

“You’re doing so well Rosie.” You cried, as her pace sped up, she leaned down to sloppily kiss you, your tongues swirling over one another.

Rosita angled her finger meeting your g spot as you gasped. She kept going until you were a moaning mess in front of her on the verge of release. When you were done she placed her head into the crevice of your neck, admiring her work. You looked down at her content and out of breath. 

“I could do that for you too you know, take care of you.” You suggested, slipping a hand over her thigh.

“I know but you always do, I wanted to be the one this time. I promise to be.” 

That night you laid in the same bed comfortably tangled in each other’s arms, drifting off into a long slumber for the first time in years. Although your insomnia wasn’t cured, having Rosita next to you every night made it a little easier.