#tw: possession mention

[rhys-ravenfeather]

Way, WAY back when, I read a FNAF theory (specifically for the first game), suggesting that the original five animatronics were all somehow possessed by the ghost of the murderer. Yeah, even with how off-the-rails the series would end up becoming, I still had a hard time wrapping my mind around this one.

Obviously, this idea has long since been disproven fifty times over...but having recently watched a review of Willy’s Wonderland, I can’t help but feel that G.O. Parsons read this theory some time back and decided to run with it, since the movie from what I’ve seen is basically ‘Five Nights at Freddy’s, but with no ghost kids and seven killers’. And also Nicholas Cage.

[ravensroleplays]

Oh yeah, not sure if I've ever mentioned this, but me drawing the ghost kids from my FNAF AU with features from their respective animatronics, i.e. Ian with Foxy's eyepatch, Tricia and Daniel with Freddy and Golden Freddy's hats, up to this point, has just been a stylistic choice to indicate what animatronic they're stuck haunting--I've always just imagined that they don't have them when their souls appear outside their animatronics, and I've drawn them like that a couple times.

But honestly, I actually like the idea of them actually having their animatronics' accessories in their ghost forms, so I'm going to make that a thing now :P

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

afton'd reader sets a man up to be straight up point blank Murdered and honestly, good for them, wish i could do that when someone flirts with me when im working smh

(i say that like i've been flirted with more than maybe two times in four years of customer service type shit)

[stemms]

After rewatching season three of TOH, I’ve noticed an interesting detail. So, as we all know, Hunter has a hair strand reminiscent of Caleb’s that he cuts off at the beginning of ‘Thanks to Them’ to stop being reminded of his abuser and heal properly. Yet, the very moment he’s possessed by Belos, the hair strand grows back.

Although it’s a subtle detail, it encapsulates Belos and Hunter's relationship perfectly: Belos is in complete control of Hunter’s actions, appearance, and future, while Hunter is a vessel to be moulded at the former’s whim. Additionally, it may symbolise Hunter’s struggle to leave his traumatic memories behind and heal. Given that he’s lived his entire life in Belos’ company, his trauma and conditioning simply cannot vanish the moment he gains physical freedom from his abuser. Healing takes a long time, and his abuser’s return isn’t helping at all.

If we compare Hunter’s hair strand from season two and ‘Thanks to Them’, we’ll notice that they’re not identical.

As you can see, it descends into the middle of Hunter’s forehead instead of being positioned to the side like it used to. Guess who else has a hair strand in this exact area. Belos.

The bastard grew it out the very moment he gained control over Hunter’s body, just to mark his ownership over the boy and flaunt it to his friends. Also, remember how Hunter cut his hair short in the intro because his hair length reminded him of his traumatic past? Belos also grew out the rest of the boy’s hair (maybe not as long, but still), possibly to let him know that he’ll never be free, and most importantly, himself.

After breaking free from Belos’ control, Hunter’s hair strand returns to its original side position, which symbolises that he accepted his grimwalker roots, but made sure to remember that he’s his own person, not the tool or property Belos reduced him to. Considering how much happier Timeskip Hunter looks, it’s quite possible that he eventually started associating that part of his hair with something much more positive, rather than with pain and shame.

[mauselet]

The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty. 

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in. 

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath. 

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away. 

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni. 

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes. 

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it  together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again. 

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together. 

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around. 

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they’re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room. 

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her. 

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear. 

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else. 

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her. 

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back. 

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said. 

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.

[galaxygermdraws]

DREW FANART FOR MY FAVORITE FIC OF ALL TIME (and spoiled it for those of you who wanna check it out)

If you DON'T know what fic this is, this is "Dynasty Decapitated" by blueticked. Their tumblr account is deactivated, and idk if they ever made a new account, so I can't properly tag them. But the fic is linked if you want to read it. You may have to zoom in for better quality also because this canvas is huge

(Reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. PLEASE go read this fic it's so good. Also! I will put a non spoilered version of this under the cut so you can see what I drew. Thankyu)

[softedgessculptures]

Toxic! Bff Armin Arlert that never wants you to date anyone 🚫

Imagine think your life is cursed because your relationships never work out in love, but it's actually all your best friend Armin Arlert's fault??!

Word counts: I don't know.

Warnings: possessiveness, manipulation, blackmail, obsessiveness, some light dumbification, stalker

Author's Notes: I'm not one to write like this but I missed writing so much!! I've wanted to talk about it for so long. Thank you so much to those who read it!

Armin is known by everyone as the best person in the world, genius, kind, supportive, selfless!! He does everything for you and aways wants to give his best to everyone!!! 🤗✨✨

But... when it comes to sharing you with someone else, whoever it is, Armin r e a l l y doesn't want to.

So let's take a step back in time before we recap things. Growing up together and always being friends from elementary school, you and Armin have been so intimate getting to know both parents and families in so long time, going through difficult times side by side, sleeping together, cuddling, going to cinema, studying, doing it all together........ you at a certain point ever wondered how much sad it would be if one of the two started dating and the pair broke up? He would hate it. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate it. Armin is painfully in love with you since elementary school when you protected him from getting hit on sports class (he the glasses dude); nevertheless, he doesn't have enough self-esteem to confess his feelings for your but he also doesn't want to lose you. (You also never thought you could work out more than friends and so Armin insists on getting in your way 'til you be entirely his) .

You two started studying together and Armin always made you get good grades, after all, he was the genius of the class and over the years was more than clear the improvement of his sympathy; more and more to the point of being a class representative, leader of the student council and even close to the school principal. Armin Arlert became highly respected and even stopped being spanked at school because of his influence💀. You admire him so much, you think he's amazing, and you've told him several times that you didn't deserve him as a best friend. This made him so confident on one hand... so much so that he now possesses control over your head, knowing that after years and years of having him as your teacher and admiration figure, you obey and take as truth pretty much everything Armin says.

Armin knows he could have matured better in his choices of beliefs and become a good flag, but at the end he really didn't want to and ended up giving in to the 🚩 one. He realized how much influence, security and love he conveyed to you. Suppose that Armin knows it's not right but somehow his obsessiveness assures him that he's the best you could ever have and that you two were made only for each other. (Armin really doesn't want to be the obsessive guy that he is and scare you away, because he knows his fellings can be THAT deep so?? He does what's suits him better!!!). He knows he's wrong but he DOESN'T CARE, he just makes excuses to be sick.

Knowing your bff Armin, it's obvious that he wouldn't say "oh I don't like you dating other people nor want you to ever leave me 👿" but "All recent researches shows that society is so lost when it comes to relationships y/n", "You could at least remember that friend of yours who was cheated on by her husband for 3 years?", "I only want the best for you and us y/n... ". You get crazier listening to all of this than coming straight out of toxic comments on Instagram itself.

"When in relationships, even best friends tend to drift apart. If you date someone, we'll mostly stop talking because of your boyfriend..." "... I'd hate to be in the middle of the two of you." And yes, it sounds innocent and genuine. Even kind of understatement to underscore his genuineness, but no, he's being really direct because he knows he's going to be THERE, literally, in the middle of the two of you.

"Are you okay with not being with me anymore?"

You would definitely believe anything Armin says when he makes those puppy dog eyes, then he hugs you, even CRIES, because he KNOWS you wouldn't hurt him any more than you already are now just thinking about leaving him for another man after all you've been through together.

"But Armin. I don't want to hurt you. Things turns out that time goes by, you know? Please, I love you so much.... " You murmur softly to him as you try to unveil those needy eyes that have stared at you since you mentioned a new guy's name. Then he rests his head on your chest, hugging your waist "I know. I just I don't want you to get hurt like the other times... You know I love you more..."

It's more than natural to make a landscape face while everything burns in flames from the inside for him. Days went by and Armin didn't make much of a point of talking about what interested you in relationships and he always changed the subject.

If there's one thing Armin knows how to do, it's push people away from you, to have you all to himself.

You know each other's secrets, and along with that, both of you have both phones screen lock keys in complete confidence because of that time when Armin first asked when you begged him to help rescue old messages you lost. As your intimacies have increased, access to each other's privacy has become so normalized that you two ended so intimate that even see nuds on each other's phones became normal. Armin has already being naked changing clothes in the same room as you, as him also has seen you naked often and has photos of you on his own phone gallery. If he doesn't take any pic of you secretly, he gets the suggestive ones that you keep in your gallery without you knowing and sends it to his phone by himself.

Armin walks by your room and pick up your phone whenever he wants, he even says he's going to play some games or do that search for "dangerous" malware that he assured that you don't know (only he knows 🙄) but he closes and go to your Facebook to delete new messages and requests, with Instagram being no different blocking people. Telegram? Never. Armin doesn't let you have such an explicit app. He even looks at your Discord channels to make sure to block anyone who shows the slightest interest in gaming with you, so you don't have to call with anyone. (this messing with cell phone hc @ambassadorarlert mentioned and it became a great inspiration to me, thank you!!!!! 💖)

Armin always tried to convince you to take him on a date with you to see the "other guy" but you always thought it was exaggerated to HE be there. Also the day you told him that, he cried a lot and you spent days spoiling him as an excuse because he always made it a point to go out with you to most of the places that were out there. Then it all ended with you not going out with anyone EVER to only be with Armin, after he manipulated you into staying with him and canceling the date, or the guy you went out alone would just block you from everything the next day for "no reason at all" and you come back crying to Armin wondering what you did wrong. "You already know what he probably wanted, and I told you so." he says as he combs your hair, knowing how much he's made hell the guy who dared to go out alone with you (if not hacking the guy account and blocking you there 💀)

You never realize what he does because Armin is so good and so sweet, kind, sensitive, and loving. There are girls from his college and work taking an interest in him, but still, he choose be with you, take care of you and helps you with everything, he loves to help and be with your parents. You don't understand why things go wrong and you think the world is pointing to Armin as your perfect husband and only you don't see it.

(Thank you so much if you read it this far!! If anyone wants credit for the images I used, please comment here and I'll credit you because I took any photo in my gallery and forgot about the owner!)

[tornoleander]

I know you tend to like Skybound most out of all the seasons, but I finally found a blog about Ninjago that doesn’t try to shy away from the more mature themes and I desperately need to talk about the fact that Morro (who died at like fifteen) is drinking alcohol in Lloyd’s body. Like there isn’t any single way that this would be considered okay! Morro would have been too young to drink when he was alive and Lloyd was around the same age physically. The only thing that you could argue is that Morro died a long time ago so now he would be considered way older than fifteen. But that means nothing when you add Lloyd into the equation! Also, the night watchman! We never see him again and last we see of him, he’s alone in a room with Morro who is possessing Lloyd’s body. He was the only witness to something Morro was trying to keep a semi-secret. If Morro used Lloyd’s body to actually kill people, that adds a whole new layer of trauma.

Oh they did that, I also think about it sometimes.

“It’s implied” in the situation meaning yeah it was but we can try to deny it still.

And you are correct, it’s messed up.

He was already controlling Lloyd, a trauma I rarely seen go into depth the way I wanna read. He lost FULL bodily autonomy, none of his actions were his own and he must watch Morrow use his strength to hurt the people he loves.

Just eating would be enough for me to get pissed. Like how fuckn dare you put something in my body. But Morrow intoxicated an unwilling minor. That happened.

Huh.

And yes, Morrow is supposed to have been around the ninjas age when he died, drinking alcohol should not be something he can say “it’s been a while” about and has troubling implications for him and his already troubled past. (Though, he’s definitely old enough by the time he intoxicated Lloyd)

I’ll Have to look into the night watchman thing I think he was seen in a different scene? But if he hasn’t been seen since, Morro killing could be a good theory.

Mmm yes I “like” skybound. I do like thinking about mature themes I know some people really don’t like people “ruining” kids shows but please THEY PUT IT THERE. Also I am wholesome and kid friendly ALL DAY for work I LOVE my job but I let myself be 18 so you will suffer my Lego angst here.

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

I approach the DSMP panel and ask my question to Tubbo.

“Why did c!Schlatt call c!Tubbo ‘Toby’ during his final moments? And why did Glatt want to start a family business with c!Tubbo? What was the relationship between c!Tubbo and c!Schlatt? Are they related?”

I am booed by the crowd.

“She’s right.” A voice calls out from over the crowd. 

I turn around. Jonathan Schlatt is standing there. He shoots me 12 times in th

[ravensroleplays]

An explanation of how Moonjumper's strings work:

Like Snatcher, he is able to remove people's souls--however, unlike Snatcher, he removes someone's entire soul; i.e. their consciousness, ALL of them, goes with them.

Think of it kind of like when Bill Cipher took over Dipper's body in Gravity Falls--essentially, his strings rip someone from their body, so he can use their empty shell as a puppet, and control to do as he pleases.

Basically, Snatcher's soul-stealing abilities in the SaSA AU are actually a toned down version of Moonjumper's, due to Moonjumper tricking him into eating souls and corrupting him--back when Snatcher stole souls, he was essentially only taking half of a person's soul...they weren't actually connected to the half he took, at least not at first, but depending on how long they were separated from their soul 'fragment', more and more of their soul would slowly start to leave them, with their consciousness being split between their body and their soul fragment, and given enough time, their body would be left as an empty, lifeless shell, like with your 'traditional' stories of someone's soul being taken.

As for Moonjumper himself, when he removes someone from their body, they are sent to a sort of limbo/in-between world, sort of like a Time Rift, except designed to trap them in a nightmare world that torments them by showing them their worst fears until their soul is completely destroyed.

[anartisticdreamer0]

ya know on this island, parents have never really had to explain death to their kids. it’s always been an accepted thing that can happen, a fate that might befall any of them at any time, that at any point one of them or their siblings may die.

but now they have to. now it’s not just eggs that die. now they have to explain death. which now leads to different parents having to explain different perspectives of death. so far it’s mainly been phil and bbh, but that makes it even more interesting because they have probably the weirdest povs on death. phil literally explaining how he views death. we legit got lore out of him.

and that’s mainly just in reference to the older eggs, the newer eggs have had a completely different scenario happen to them. in which they’ve gotten told “oh these are your new parents, some of them have dead kids so they might not be receptive to you, but that’s fine they’ll learn”. which creates a whole new relationship with death. em and pepito having to live in bobby’s shadow. sunny knowing she had a sister but she’s not around anymore. and those past relationships affect the relationships those parents have with their “new” kids. not to mention how sunny never has really had death explained to her. the new eggs have not yet had death normalized, they are still scared of it.

that’s not helped by islanders themselves dying. chayanne said (paraphrased) “you’re not supposed to die like eggs” while talking to phil and i think that perfectly describes how the older eggs perceive death. they can die forever and never come back that’s why their parents protect them. their parents can’t and won’t die permanently, they will come back. but tubbo, and now bad have destroyed that mindset. because now parents can die permanently. and that’s what scares them. death overall scares the newer eggs, their parents dying scares the older eggs.

this isn’t even getting to how dapper, pomme, and tallulah have an even stronger connection to death and therefore likely have a slightly different view on it. sunny has had that entire everything with q!lenay’s corpse, don’t get me started on the kinds of tragic and fucked up all that is. or how pepito has 3 of pepito’s parents have dead kids. at the end of the day, these are kids. all of them. and i don’t think we talk about the inherent importance and interest that automatically holds enough. these kids are growing up on an island where if your parents don’t feed you cookies for a week you die. and so you just have to hope someone else does it for you to keep being alive. and some most of you only have one dependable parent, some of your parents have to worry about two of you, some of you can only depend on a babysitter.

then one of your parents dies. and then the babysitter, that everyone has depended on at least once, dies. . .

how safe then is your mom or dad? and if they die, who takes care of you? who makes sure you don’t die?

[angelsdean]

also re: my dean + sex work post, and especially the quote from 1x08 where dean's talking abt making money through non-legal ways like hustling and scamming and he says, "it's what we were raised to do" and then connecting that to the scene in 1x20 where john tells dean "you know what to do" cut to-- dean playing monster bait (and being nonconsensually kissed by a vampire) and then connecting that to the cut line from 14x14 where dean tells cas that john used to make him play the wide-eyed hitchhiker routine as monster bait on hunts. dean was groomed from a young age by john to see his body as nothing more than a tool and weapon. he learned from a young age that his body is an object. he is daddy's blunt little instrument. he is something that can be used for a purpose and then discarded. he's repeatedly used as a soldier and weapon by john when he's needed and then abandoned and neglected when he's not. and i think that mentality absolutely influenced how he saw his body in relation to sex and sex work. and i'm not saying sex work can't be empowering or positive for some people but in dean's specific case and circumstances it wouldn't have really been a choice but more a desperate last ditch option. but one that he doesn't even waver much on because of all these prior experiences that have primed him for being objectified. like he's already had so much of his personhood stripped, he'd already been objectified as a weapon, seeing himself as expendable and only useful when he's being used. all of this made him so vulnerable and desensitized in a way that sex work for survival wouldn't even be a huge jump for him. it's another way he can be useful and make sure he's providing for his brother and fulfilling his number one job as caretaker.

[sophieinwonderland]

you mentioned endos getting killed for being possessed, is there a source on this? that sounds very important and interesting

To be clear, this is more about deaths for the perception of spiritual plurality. People who died because they were believed to experience spiritual plurality. i.e. possession.

Here's a listicle featuring deaths from exorcisms:

(Trigger warning: Includes mention of deaths and torture of real children.)

I have no way of confirming which if any of the victims are actually plural, let alone endogenic. Some are almost definitely not, like the 6-month-old baby. But they died because they were perceived in some way as having other entities in their body, which contributes to the reason why endogenic systems have largely been in hiding for thousands of years.

Anyone confessing to share their body with other agents would have faced persecution like this and quite possibly death.

[stemms]

Do you ever think about c!Tommy’s connection to death after the revival? It seems that c!Tommy’s death and subsequent revival in prison split his life into a ‘before’ and ‘after’. The very idea of having been brought back to life when he was meant to remain dead shocked him and felt utterly wrong, as if he was going against nature, and perhaps, even the Primes.

c!Tommy began to consider his house as his grave and decorate his clothes with flowers, just to mask the smell of his rotting flesh — that’s what he believed, at least.

In addition to struggling mentally with the aftermath of his revival, c!Tommy had to deal with constant tremors, phantom pain, and nightmares related to his death in prison and limbo. He seriously struggled with knitting again, just like when c!Dream would break his fingers in exile to make him more dependent on him.

Every single part of this living nightmare led to c!Dream — the very cause of his suffering.

It only proved that c!Dream owned his soul, body, and mind, didn’t it? :) :) :)

[thethirdpapa]

"Father, bless me for that I will sin"

Summary: Father Jim deFroque gets possesed by a familiar face AN: Happy Jesus he knows me anniversairy y´all have a bit of Jim suffering in honor of that. Let me know if you want part 2. Also the art is a nod to a very beloved horror game. Guess which one in the comments!! TW: Possesion , cussing , discussion of religion , mild gore , pain Words: 1,3k

Father Jim deFroque. Some call him the good willing father of the Jesus talks, some know him from his masses, some know him from his not so holy night life. Somewhat he had the trace of a glorious Popstar-Life, but behind this naïve look and the preaching of comfortable lies with the subtle manipulation of giving some man all your money to be greeted into heaven with open arms. Not to speak that Jum had a lot of interesting callers , especially around easter. Some days he wondered if it wasn’t the infamous ministry who chased these kinds of calls upon his neck to annoy him. But , as a priest must, he kept his patience all the way, And it wasn’t only his good willing patience that helped him stay calm during the arguments on the Jesus talks, but also the leftovers from his wild nights . Some wonder if he had a cold that he never gets rid off as they get to hear the sniffing from time to time on calls

Yet , one call was interesting. It came , late at night while he was in the bathroom , taking care of his hair. He forgot to leave the light on in his bedroom , which made the call coming from it seem like the scene right before a jumpscare in a horror movie. The only source of light was the moon from outside, shimmering lightly through the stained glass. Jim picked up, who would he be if not a priest always available for his devoted followers?He was just surprised the call did go to his mobile phone rather than the one he was given by the church for the jesus talks. He picked up.

“Good evening ,May god bless your soul. you are speaking to Father Jim deFroque. How may I help you?” he answered in his usual demeanor. There was no answer. Except some weird, breathing noises. Jim thought it was one of these interesting calls again and was about to hang up when suddenly , a rather familiar voice spoke . “Another day of serving the lord?” . What a weird.. teasy sounding question. Jim firstly had to think for a moment. “Sir, is this a serious question or do you just want to …” Jim started with a confused tone as the voice interrupted him “..No..no.. genuine question.” . “Well , yes, obviously. How shall I not fulfill my duty of serving our shepherd” Jim responded in his usual demeanor. “How are you so sure that he is actually real? Has he done something to prove his existence to you?” Yes, it was done of those callers again. Jim took a deep sigh, deciding if he should just shit on the rules and tell the caller to fuck off, or if he should grab into his basket of “evidence” he keeps repeating like a broken record.

He decided for option two, he does not need any troubles right now , as he did not wish to ruin his image just because it was 2 am and he was about to go to bed since he didn’t feel like clubbing today. “Well you see, I consider my duty and life to be a blessing of our lord and saviour. He has led me to my mission to bring the message of the holy spirit to the masses and redirect the people back to the right path” . There was silence , then a chuckling.. “redirect them to the right path..sure” the voice replies snarky “do you ask them if they wish to? Do they come to you even?” Jim felt himself getting tired of this pointless conversation, but also weirdly anxious. “Sir, I only do what I must, not what I decide is the solution” . The voice snickered at that. “Im sure they’ll appreciate you” . That was when the call ended. Leaving Jim with the phone in his hand, starring at the screen of the suppressed number. Jim found this weird, but nothing shocking. And decided to go to bed, but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was out to get him.

Jim didn’t have the most pleasant dream either, a rather short figure appearing in his dream only to laugh at him. As he stepped closer to the figure he got to see their face, it was familiar face paint what burned itself into his memory. The unmatched eyes, it was like he has seen them before. Why was this haunting him?  But that wasn’t the worst of it all. As the figure stepped closer, He was revealing his horns, and the ground beneath Jim was burning. They just watched him on fire, waving even a little with a smile he didn’t know was meant to be a greeting or a farewell. The eyes and the face paint stayed in his memory even as he awoke. It was still dark. He checked his watch , spotting it was only five am

The light in the bathroom was still on. Jim couldn’t recall if he switched it off before bed or not so he forced himself up to turn it off. Yet his eyes were greeted with a different scenery as he wished to. There was red paint on his mirror, spelling the word Sinner. Now that was the final straw to get the faithful man out of his calm demeanor. He inspected the paint, but the paint turned it out to be blood.

Firstly Jim went to check his locks and windows, in case someone wanted to pull a prank on him. But all locked and closed. Which was weird. To say the least. “Holy Father have mercy on my soul…” Jim whispered under his breath. And the plead was replies with a chuckling. The same as on the call. Jim shook his head, refusing to let his mind trick him. He started to consider that these were the after effects of his last trip. As he stood in front of the mirror with disbelief the light switched off.

Jim unintentionally screamed. Not sure if it was the shock  or the fact that everything what was going on seemed out of a horror movie. He prayed quietl under his breath, pinched himself even to wake himself up from this nightmare. Pleading to whoever was listening to stop his madness. “No, No” it sounded behind him. Jim gulped  and turned around to the noise,  (He felt incredibly stupid for acting like a horror movie protagonist in this situation) and spotted the man from his dreams sit there. Didn’t they say he was dead? Decaptivated even? And of course he had horns. He smirked at Jim. “So ..Are you still on the right path?, Father?" He asked while looking absent minded towards the wall . “What a stupid question, of course I am. What do you want, my soul? “ Jim yelled hysterically , losing his demeanor. Why was he tormenting him like that?

The man stood up. He didnt answer his question but was smirking even brighter. “Lets see how he can save you now from that” he replied, with that he revealed his horns and wings. He snapped his finger and a burning pain claimed Jim´s chest. The father screamed for mercy. To anyone that would listen to help him. “Burn in hell you--…” Jim went quiet. He felt something shift, enter his mind and spread inside him like poison , no prayers would save him now. And he was simply not qualified for an exorcism on himself and way too panicked to continue. Jim felt his faith fade, along with his mind.  No matter how hard he tried to stay and not let the evil take him over, it was too late for salvation. The begs of mercy faded slowly. His tortured expression turned into one of satisfaction

Father Jim was no more, his smile was not his own, his eyes always overshadowed with the omnipresent glow of his red eyes. Jim slowly got up, groaning from his floor. Facing his new form in the mirror. A bright smile painted his face and he chuckled. A weird dark red substance trickled from his mouth and eyes , and his iris were black along.

And with that the beloved father was gone , buried deep beneath the shadows of the possesion , locked in the dark of his mind.

[chesspens]

Strawberry Blonde

I'm sorry, my sweet strawberry blonde.

For all my strength, I am still a child.