#Vern's thoughts

[hello-from-nrc-infirmary]

Hello~ how do you umm... get a tsum to um... stop doing something?

[hello-from-nrc-infirmary]

Pam won't um... let me work right umm... now anyway

Ssh shshu!

(Please ask us!)

send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.

[vcrnons]

VERNON | F*ck My Life Official MV

[mythryl00]

Trainer Woozi wants to battle!

[beaulesbian]

monster trio underwater, beginning of the skypiea arc, ch 219,(with chapter 220 titled "a walk on the seafloor")

&

monster trio underwater, beginning of the fishman island arc, ch 605, (up to chapter 607 titled "30,000 feet under the sea")

[scaredstupid]

superb!

[vernalloy]

Lawrence just has that obsession with control and need to chase positions of domestic status (doctor with a tight-knit family) contrasting with the underside of exterior in which he’s remarkably cold (& cheats on his wife) that makes him read as really traumatized and closeted.

In cunk lusion

[ID: Christian Borle as Marvin from Falsettos. End ID.]

[novahazard24]

A bunch of JV!Nemo sketches because I am not normal about this man

[hello-from-nrc-infirmary]

*Vern tugs on a loose strand of hair, glancing around the forest clearing that's decorated surprisingly nicely with various spring flower backdrops, a snack table, DJ, and a ring of sand in the middle*

*~~.``!!..~~..

(I guess its umm... not a bad space)

*he tries smoothing his dress a little*

[dathen]

Holmes straight-up said “if it’s not about my special interest why should I care” and proceeded to ADHD-stare out the window in 50% of his classes and never bother with school again

[verndusk]

daily "am i burnt out or am i just having a bad day" art feelings but today i had to stop drawing half-way through a piece cause i just wasn't feelin it at all DAMN

[cringefail-loser]

trying to decide which members of the party would be who from the kids in Stand By Me is so tricky.

it makes sense for Will to be Gordie, since he's quiet, shy, and artsy, but Chris's daddy issues and how they affect him work well for him as well.

Dustin would obviously be Vern, no doubt about it, but what about Lucas? The only character left for him would be Teddy, since it makes sense for Mike to be Chris or Gordie (whichever character Will isn't), but Lucas is nothing like Teddy.

For one, Teddy is rambunctious, likes to poke fun at his friends, and aggressive. Sure, Lucas was known for making fun of Mike for his 'crush' on El, but that's about it. Lucas isn't really a "I'm at the prime of my youth and I'll never be young again" kinda kid. But, I guess it'll have to work.

back to Will and Mike.

I'd say Will is Gordie because Gordie, out of the four main characters, is more or less the main main character, so I'd say Will would have to be Gordie, which leaves Mike with Chris, which is perfect because Chris and Gordie definitely have some gay shit going on, a lot like Will and Mike.

thanks for coming to my TedTalk about 80's gays

[celestialudenburn7]

cw vent, gore

hi can someone please rip out my ribs? Maybe throw my organs in a blender? Can my spine be cracked open along with my kneecaps? Not to forget my head, which deserves to be skewered up upon a spike.

[vernalloy]

Being a newbie selfshipper and a writer is such a dangerous combination. “Ooo Anthony Perkins is so pretty” -> “yknow fittingly bc John’s aro and Norman has a very bad relationship with relationships from being abused I can probably write something about this” -> “I think I hauve CPTSD”

[junkissed]

working on my final paper rn so remind me later but. stoner bf vernon fic soon perhaps

[whump-in-the-closet]

The Scarred Among the Mundane.

cw: death threats, magical whump, captivity, elf whumpee, skeleton walking around in a generally creepy castle

previous. masterlist. next

— —

With a rope around Finn’s neck, the sorcerer drags him forward, into the crowd.

The watching, waiting crowd.

Finn stumbles. “You–”

The sorcerer nudges her horse into a trot, cutting off Finn’s voice by cutting off his air supply.

Dust shifts beneath his boots, rising with the crowd’s low voices.

“Scum.”

“…deserve death.”

“Die slowly—”

Finn rolls his eyes with great effort. “I deserve something better than ‘I hope you die slowly’, don’t you think?” he tells the crowd. “Maybe, ‘I’d greatly enjoy watching you scream for death, and instead of granting it, I’d prolong your miserable life for my own enjoyment.’ Hm? How's that?”

A slight pause. Then someone spits at him.

As the sorcerer pulls Finn out of the town square, he can feel it dripping down the side of his face. Along with the egg yolk.

Disgusting.

Finn wishes, not for the first time and not for the last, that his hands were free. He’d claw his own skin off in an attempt to wipe the food and spit off of his face.

And then he’d strangle the sorcerer. Maybe with the very same rope she’d tied around him. That’s a lovely thought.

The sorcerer yanks harder at the rope and Finn barely manages to catch his balance. “Don’t tell me you can read thoughts.”

They reach the edge of the town– a trampled road leading into green hills. On either side, there’s tall grass and tangled trees and sunlight trapped in the branches.

The sorcerer turns her horse away from the road. “I’d save your breath if I were you. We have a long way to go.”

Finn looks at the sharp grass that rises up to his knees. At the dark forest. The rope rubs awkwardly around his throat with every breath he takes. “You’re making me walk? Have I committed some deep personal wrong against you? What exactly have I done to deserve this?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to answer that for yourself. I’m not concerned with your wrongdoings.” She pulls Finn into the grass, urging her horse on faster.

Finn has to run to avoid being dragged unceremoniously through the dirt.

The sorcerer takes no hidden path, no secret entrance, no magic portal. Merely rides through thick mud and suffocating vines and deep shadows, taking Finn with her.

What wrongdoings?

Finn laughs.

Wrongdoings.

Behind his eyes, flames dance. Destructive. Beautiful.

So, besides the fires, he’s done nothing wrong. Well. There are the screams. The ones he can’t drown out.

The ones he hears when he’s trying to sleep.

The ones that don’t let him sleep.

Behind the flames, there are always the screams.

He will not apologise for a single fire.

A low-hanging branch cuts him across his face, knocking aside all thoughts of fire and replaced with stinging and a hatred for trees.

Spitting out leaves, he calls out, “How much longer?”

No answer.

“Do you live far away because you hate humans or because you hate me?“

A bird chirps. The sorcerer says nothing.

“Stricken silent, huh? I have been told I have this effect on people.”

The sorcerer lifts her hand, fingers twisted.

Finn doubles over, eyes burning and tongue feeling like a dead weight.

Silence.

The sorcerer sighs, but she slumps further in her saddle. “That's better.” It’s almost a whisper, buried by the overhanging, overarching suffocation of trees.

The ground begins to tilt upwards at an unnatural angle. Up, up, up until Finn’s legs ache. The trees, if possible, thicken.

But by the time they reach the top of the hill, the spell has faded. Finn’s tongue only feels slightly strange and no longer like a brick. An improvement.

And then he sees the fortress.

It’s a towering grey structure– all odd angles and formidding shadows. Dead plants cling to the sides.

Finn swears he can see eyes glowing from the windows. Not a good thought. Not a good one. Nope. Please no. He doesn’t like the idea of eyes.

The sorcerer rides into the courtyard, pulling Finn behind her. He doesn’t look away from the window with the eyes.

A smile pastes itself to the cracked glass, teeth dripping white. The eyes blink and then vanish.

Finn shudders, mouth like cotton.

The sorcerer dismounts in one fluid motion.

Licking cracked lips, Finn forces a smile. “You own all this?”

This time, the sorcerer smiles back. It’s a deeply unsettling smile. Keeping one hand on the rope and the other on her horse, she nods behind Finn. “My father does.”

Finn turns. His false smile falters before failing all together.

There’s a raised garden in the courtyard, and standing over it is a human skeleton. Bone-white. Eyes gaping and dark.

Finn takes a stumbling, rushing step back.

The skeleton, with stiff fingers, begins to weed the garden. Pieces of grass fly into the air, green and yellow.

But Finn can’t get the image of gaping eyes and dull teeth out of his mind.

It’s a long moment before Finn is able to speak. His voice is a choked whisper. “That’s–”

The sorcerer grins. “Was my father. The property is still in his name. Never got around to changing it. Don’t worry, he’ll only come after you if you try to escape.”

Finn’s knees threaten to give out on him.

The sorcerer tightens the rope. “Come. We don’t have all day.”

Numbly, Finn follows her inside the fortress. She takes him down a winding staircase– lit with light that has no source.

The darkness deepens with the cold. They step into a long hall, doors lining either side. The sorcerer kicks open the first one.

“In you go.”

Finn stares at the aching emptiness of the small room. He blinks, swallows hard. You have got to be kidding.

“Elf, I saved your life. The least you can do is show a little gratitude.”

“I said thank you.”

“Your life is in my hands. Do not try my patience.”

Finn snarls. This is bad.

Bad bad bad.

“What exactly does a necromancer want to do with an elf?”

Again, that unsettling smile. “You’ll find out in the morning.” She unlocks the chains around Finn’s wrists and unties the rope around his neck. “And I’m not a necromancer. The name is Verne.”

“Didn’t ask.”

Verne waves towards the cell. “Get in.” Her voice allows no refusal, no argument, no banter.

Finn steps in. Dust rises up in a soft cloud around him. And as the door slams shut, he tries not to flinch.

tagging: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast (lmk if you want to be added/ removed)