You kicked your shoes off as you plopped onto the couch. You laid your head back and tried to relax. You were so tired from the events earlier today.
You had just escaped an insane asylum with the help of Theo Galavan. Besides being knocked out with poisonous gas, you hadn’t been able to have a good nights sleep for weeks.
With your eyes closed, you heard someone walk in. The footsteps got closer until finally you felt someone plop on the couch beside you. You tried to ignore them.
“(Y/N), get up.”
It was Jerome. “I’m tired” you told him.
“Too bad, get up. I have something I want to show you.”
“Show me later” you whined.
“Just get up now” he badgered.
You just turned on your side, trying to get to sleep. But the sudden sound of a chainsaw turning on loudly. The sudden, loud sound frightened you, and you found yourself falling off the couch.
Jerome cackled with laughter as he watched you. You quickly stood up and stared at him with wide eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“I want to show you something on the roof” he shouted. The chainsaw still roared in his hands. “Come with me.”
You glared at him and say back down on the couch. “I’m tired, Jerome. Let me be.”
“You heard the lady, Jerome, leave her alone.”
You both looked up to see Galavan entering the room. “And please, turn off that chainsaw.”
Jerome dropped the machine to the floor distastefully. He grinned at Galavan. “I was just trying to get (Y/N) to come out and play. She’s been inside all day long.”
“Actually, I have some concerns I would like to speak to miss (Y/L/N) about if she wouldn’t mind.”
You automatically rose to your feet. Jerome frowned.
“Of course, Mr. Galavan. What do you need?”
He held his hand up with a smile. “Please, call me Theo.”
You nodded in agreement. He looked to Jerome. “If you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to have this discussion with (Y/N) in private.”
“Of course…” Jerome said irritably. He glanced at you once more before leaving the room.
“I hope this isn’t too out of the blue, but I was hoping I could talk to you about how you were admitted to Arkham Asylum in the first place.” He walked to his desk and pulled up a bottle of alcohol. He began to fill a glass.
You froze. “I, um, I had killed a shop clerk-”
You looked at Galavan nervously as he continued. “You weren’t admitted, were you? You put yourself in there. Why?”
“How did you know?”
He was now leaning against his desk with his glass of alcohol in hand. “Just answer the question.”
You hesitated. “…I was scared…”
Galavan frowned. “Of what? What could make you so scared that you would put yourself in an enclosed room with a bunch of ruthless criminals?”
“Arkham had the best security in the world. It was supposed to be secured from all out side intruders. I…” you paused. “There has been a man following me. I thought I’d be safer inside.”
“Who is this man?”
“I don’t know.”
“But Jim Gordon does?” Your eyes widened. “I know he took up your case. You thought you were being stalked and went to the GCPD. If I can recall what I’ve heard, he grew fond of you.”
“He helped me, but that was all” you tried to say.
“He suggested staying at Arkham.”
“If you called him again, asking for help, would he come? Right away?”
You were confused by the question, but answered. “Yes. I think he would.”
Galavan smiled. “That’s all I needed to hear.” He stepped forward. Putting a hand on my shoulder he said, “You’re going to be very useful to the Maniax, (Y/N), just you wait and see.”
A sudden bang came from the roof. You pulled away from him. “Can I go see what that was?”
“Yes, you’re welcome to leave. Just…don’t go far.”
You nodded. You quickly left the room. A feeling of dread settling over you as Galavan had brought up a past life you had just begun to forget. You reached the roof and saw Jerome. He was leaning over the edge wall, staring down, laughing.
“Jerome?” you asked. “What are you doing?”
Also on the room, you saw a hammer. It was just lying there, covered in blood. A giant blood trail led to where Jerome was.
“Come on, (Y/N). Come see what I did” he spoke with laughter in his voice.
Cautiously, you walked to where he was. You leaned over the railing and gasped loudly. You stumbled back. Someone had been tossed onto the ground from their high building. And they were on fire.
“Jerome! What have you done?”
“He was a violinist. You said you like classical music, so I kidnapped one I saw coming out of a theater.”
“Why did you kill him?” you demanded.
He turned to you with a deadly expression. He was still listing though, making him look terrifying.
“Maybe I got sick of waiting for you and ‘Theo’ to finish ‘talking’. If, ya know, that’s what you like calling it.”
You frowned. “What?”
“I must say, (Y/N), I never thought of you as the kind to swing for the oldies. But, hey, maybe Galavan convinced you somehow.” His voice was rough as he spoke.
“What? Me and Galavan? Jerome, what-”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you seem to bend to his every will. He’s got you whipped, that’s for sure.” He chuckled. “Maybe he took a page from Tabitha’s book with you.”
“Jerome, I don’t do what Galavan says because I like him-”
“What is it then?” he demanded. “Is he just that good in the sack that you can’t resist?”
“He saved us, Jerome. I’m grateful.”
“You sure show it” he barked, he started laughing hysterically. But you knew there was no humor there.
You reached out to touch him. But he jerked away.
“What were your talking about then?” he demanded.
“I-I can’t tell you” you said. If Jerome found out you hadn’t been admitted to Arkham, he wouldn’t think of you the same.
He scoffed. “Fine.” He started to leave the roof.
“Save your breath” he snapped at you. “I’m sure you’ll have more luck with Galavan than me.”
He then left the roof, leaving you alone on with the sounds of screams from below as the body was discovered.
Our time has come
Rise and see what you have become
Old lessons learned
Determined to reap what they’ve earned
No, i’m not the same
Seen my own shadow and gone thought the shame
But this is the price
I’ll let all demons awake
When they call out my name
It has begun
Wake and see your freedoms undone
Let reasons mourn
Escape from a life overturned
I am going insane
Enraptured by secrets revealed by my pain
But what is the price
To let all my demons awake
When all senses prevail
See, it’s always the same
Come on hear my whisper
And call out my name
And I’ll see into the insanity
I will never say this is fate
Whenever you need me
Just call out my name
And I’ll be there with your insanity
No longer turn when they’re around
I’ve put my feet back on the ground
Have no intentions to return
Manga Kaneki is a (somewhat unhinged) Cutie Appreciation Post
Alright, so seeing how anime white haired Kaneki only seems capable of one expression of blank emo stare devoid of a personality, I wanted to make this appreciation post of the sadistic cutie that manga Kaneki is.
Literally just escaped from being tortured to insanity? Still able to smile like an angel.
(Even though the smile is a lie)
And he’s very capable of putting on very convincing fake smiles to mask his true nature. When asked if he murdered dozens of ghouls (that he totally actually did):
Wouldn’t you trust that smile if you didn’t know better?
Though there are plenty of genuinely cute moments, especially where Hinami is involved. He’s always a total angel with her, and looks after her almost like like a parent:
Pictured Above: Kaneki Ken, Ghoul Gang Boss, Pro Hairdresser
He’s also (somewhat distubingly) good at switching in an instant between sweet and… not so sweet. For example while training Banjou, he effortlessly goes from Yamori-style trainer from hell (and ends up throwing him off a building):
To (when rescuing him bridal style from falling from said roof) this gentle - albeit somewhat smug - smile:
In the midst of a dangerous raid, immediately after kicking ass?
“Why is this guy so happy” indeed, Irimi. And then the next time we see him, just few pages later, he makes a CCG mook literally piss his pants in fear just by landing in front of him.
And seriously look at this kawaii-as-fuck smile, even when confronting an enemy in a fight to the death.
Especially for the fact it’s directly preceded by this page:
And that’s just a few choice examples (seriously, when taking screenshots for this post, I kept coming across great manga moments I’d forgotten about and had to restrain myself from just posting the whole manga). Conclusion: Pierrot, how the hell did you manage to mischaracterise Kaneki to the degree of cutting out both his sweet side and his sadistic side and everything else that makes him so interesting and likeable?
Oh well, let’s just appreciate the treasure that is manga Kaneki Ken.
Don’t care about your pro Hilary anti trump (or vise versa) political garbage. Politics are like religion. Just fine until someone shoves their beliefs down your throat and demands you follow their way of thinking, or else.
I am not here for that.
It’s sad that I keep having to publicly remind people I will not be discussing politics whether I agree or not. This has, and always will be a fandom and personal blog only. An escape from the insanity of the world. Please stop sending me things that have to do with politics.
Got a go fund me for a sick kid? I am here for that! Want me to join you in your quest to find a cure for cancer? SIGN ME UP!
But please, if I did not ask your opinion on *insert political subject here* just assume I don’t want to hear it. I deal with it enough in real life. I don’t want to see it here.
And if you tag your political posts like you do your spoilers? Bless you.
Actress Anne Heche says she spent the first 31 years of her life suffering from mental illness triggered by sexual abuse at the hands of her father.
“I’m not crazy,” Anne — who believed for years that she was two people, one of whom was from another planet — tells Walters. “But it’s a crazy life. I was raised in a crazy family and it took 31 years to get the crazy out of me.”
Sexual Abuse By Her Father
“I had a fantasy world that I escaped to. I called my other personality Celestia,” she explains. “I believed I was from that world. I believed I was from another planet. I think I was insane.”
This escape to another world, she says, stemmed from being sexually abused by her father, Donald Heche, a seemingly devout Christian who she found out was gay as he lay dying of AIDS in 1983.
“He raped me, he stuck his dick in my mouth, he fondled me, he put me on all fours, and had sex with me,” says Heche, qualifying that the abuse started when she was a toddler, years that she can’t remember clearly.
“I think it’s always hard for children to talk about abuse because it is only memory. I didn’t carry around a tape recorder … I didn’t chisel anything in stone … Anybody can look and say, ‘Well how do you know for sure?’ And that’s one of the most painful things about it. You don’t.”
Anne says she had herpes as a young girl, but she does not know if her mother knew she was being molested by her father. “I had a rash, I had sores, I had welts on my nose and on my lips.” When she found out her father had AIDS, she feared for her life.
With her father’s double life exposed, and her family homeless, Heche would spend the next 20 years in a tortured search.
“I think everything I’ve done in all my insanity was to try to get my parents to love me. My father loved movie stars. I decided I needed to become famous to get his love. My mother loved Jesus. That was her thing. So I wanted to become Jesus Christ.”
To get away from her painful upbringing, Heche says, “I drank. I smoked. I did drugs. I had sex with people. I did anything I could to get the shame out of my life.”
She also used acting as a way to escape, playing twins on the soap opera Another World from 1988 to 1992.
But as Heche’s career began to flourish, she was still haunted by her past.
After years of therapy, she confronted her mother about her father’s sexual abuse. “She hung up the phone on me,” Heche recalls.
"To have gone through so much work to heal myself and have my mother not acknowledge in any way that she was sorry for what had happened to me broke my heart. And in that moment, I split off from myself.“
By the time she was 25, her personality had begun to fragment, shattering into moments of madness. Celestia, her other personality whom she believed was the reincarnation of God, spoke a different language and had special powers.
Shutter Island 2009 Director: Martin Scorsese
A U.S Marshal investigates the disappearance of a murderess who escaped from a hospital for the criminally insane. Shutter Island is a 2010 American psychological thriller film directed by Martin Scorsese. The film is based on Dennis Lehane’s 2003 novel of the same name.
On June 21, 1930, 35-year-old Raymond Spang murdered his wife and four children in New Haven, Connecticut. Spang was a World War I veteran and had currently been voluntarily admitted to a psychiatric hospital in New York with “manic depressive insanity.” The previous day, he escaped from the hospital and hitchhiked to his home. In celebration of his return, Spang took his family on a picnic to West Rock Park. As his wife Gertrude settled close to the edge of the 400 ft. cliff, witnesses recall “they saw him kick her headlong over the brink.” He then hurled each of his children over the edge while onlookers too far away to do anything watched in horror. They were: Helen, 10, Lorraine, 7, Raymond, 5, and three-year-old Donald. Spang noticed his wife was caught on a rock and began descending the slope to reach her body. At this point, a fireman arrived at the top of the cliff armed with a shotgun and attempted to intervene. He fired four shots at Spang once he was within 50 ft. of his wife’s body, but they all missed. The fireman was lowered by rope near the ledge he perched himself on and was halted when Spang threatened to jump if he came any closer. After attempting to reason with him for 15 minutes, Spang made the sign of the cross and plunged to his death. When the bodies were reached, all of them were dead except Raymond, and he passed away an hour later.
Happy birthday to the amazing. the beautiful, the bae, comewhatanime!!!!! Hope you have/had an amazing day and that you get everything you asked for! I’m sorry this is a little short but hopefully proudtobeaginger‘s amazing art will make up for it! So, here’s your lil’ birthday drabble!
If someone had told Lucy when she met a certain pyromaniac
in Hargeon all those years ago that one day she would be the mother of his
children, she would have politely asked them what insane asylum they had
escaped from. She’d been waiting for her Prince Charming, not some reckless boy
with a knack for getting into trouble.
And yet, here she was, feeling the life the two of them had
created kicking inside of her.
I think it’s worth noting and even respecting just how much punishment Jasper can take.
When we last saw her, she was thrown into the reactor core of a spaceship, which then crashed, and pulled herself out of the rubble without needing to regenerate.
In the latest episode, we see that Lapis is still keeping her imprisoned, but it’s taking everything she has to keep Jasper down. Her complete, undivided concentration AND the entire weight of the ocean is what’s keeping Jasper from escaping.
The Escape From Monkey Island bank puzzle begins with mild insanity. You go to a prosthetic limb store and ask for free body parts. The owner immediately agrees, but you get to pick the type of prosthetic only by guessing characters’ names in his rambling story. We’re only two sentences into the puzzle, and if you’re still following along, we are legally allowed to diagnose you with dementia. Did you just blindly guess that the pirate in the owner’s story was Larry? Then you get a fake butt. It’s so, so weird. It’s like logic took a trip on the event horizon and brought some unspeakable darkness back with it.
I knew there was a reason I was feeling a little older today, and now I know what it was. I don’t spend a lot of time on this blog anymore, but It’s special to me because otherwise I probably would have left Tumblr, come to think of it, right about two years ago. This was my escape from the well intended insanity of trying to literally follow everyone back (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME LOL) on my original blog. I’m grateful as always to all you, and as I’ve said before, please don’t feel obligated to follow both blogs. I promise I won’t know, though I’m keenly aware of the surprisingly many friends who regularly find time to stop by on one blog or the other. THANK YOU! Someday when I have the energy I’ll have to explain the story behind Don’t Cry It’s Only Mike. It actually has 2 hidden meanings, but that’s enough for now.