#he reeks of mental illness

[jrueships]

want to bite his little cheeks <33 🥰🥰

[trans-leek-cookie]

i feel like we are conflating "not realizing you were being lied to" and "accepting/ignoring obvious gross behavior" in the same realm of being Not At Fault. Yeah this is abt James Somerton cause like. Yeah you're not going to notice plagiarism unless youre familiar with the plagiarized work (or someone calls out said plagiarism) that's fine. But like? You aren't irredeemable or anything, but maybe in the future be more critical when someone you respect or like says stuff that's misogynistic or lesbophobic or biphobic or transphobic? Like you don't have to instantly persecute them, but please let that inform how you see them? Don't just write them off as having good intentions or important things to say (even if they do), you can acknowledge those intentions while also acknowledging their faults. Again: it's not an unforgivable sin, but there's a difference in being lied to and listening to someone Say Misogynistic and Bi/Trans/Lesbophobic Shit openly

[fipindustries]

the thing chuck doesnt understand is that jimmy pulls his punches so much when it comes to dealing with him. jimmy is so clever and so resourceful and if he was just 5% more ruthless he could have fucked chuck a thousand times over. but jimmy goes easy on him, and will sabotaje himself for the sake of chuck because he truly loves him. in a way that i dont think chuck reciprocates.

like, in a sense chuck is almost a bit of a crybully, he is the definition of "cries in pain as he strikes you". his mental illness has served him for cover from jimmy's anger so many times, and the fact that he is willing to harm himself (or rather subject himself to his own imagined form of self harm) just so that he can fuck over jimmy. there is something really disgusting in the way that he acts all pathetic and like he is enduring terrible torture as he goes out of his way to block jimmy. because he is either faking it just so he can get sympathy or believe himself a martyr, or he is genuine in which case he must really fucking hate jimmy if he is willing to endure that.

and i dont believe for a second that this comes from some noble concern for law or justice. its plainly obvious that it comes from jealousy. he is jealous because people like jimmy, whereas they only respect him. his dad would not believe jimmy did anything wrong, his mom spent her last words calling for jimmy while chuck was right there, his ex wife was delighted by jimmy's humor and she ended up leaving him. even his own workers and partners, earnest, kim, even howard when he didnt stop jimmy from joining the other lawyer firm. they support jimmy, liying cheating jimmy, slipping jimmy. they suport and give second chances to this conman over him who worked so hard to get where he is. chuck is just so fucking salty over it and he cant stand it.

and the saddest thing is that he is right. jimmy IS a liar, jmmy cheats and cuts corners and takes shortcuts and a lot of times that ends up biting him in the ass. but the way chuck puts himself above jimmy and tries to stop him at every turn just pushes jimmy away more and more.

and the thing is that i feel chuck is starting to take a bit for granted the fact that jimmy cares for him and that this is the only thing keeping him in check. i wouldnt be surprised if this last stunt where he recorded jimmy ends up being the straw that breaks the camels back and make jimmy no longer hold back.

i think chuck is about to find out he has a lot more to lose than jimmy does and that he cant play the game as well a jimmy can when he no longer cares about who he hurts

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Funny how that's actually true about how the characters/story would treat Dimitri, but when Edelgard does it it's "for a just cause" and it's always totally acceptable. This game really does love its waifu double standards.

[acronixium]

I think it’s funnier that he’s literally the manifestation of everything my brother hates. The step-bro of that lady he despises AND a kissup to that evil queen

[bringthekaos]

I'm excited for your thoughts on the new season if/when you share them

It has legit taken me 3 days to come to terms with Act 1. Enough to be able to speak about it. Gunna apologize in advance for the wall of text, and I’m hiding it under a break for spoiler reasons. Also prefacing with these are all just my opinions. All are free to disagree with me and RB with discussions/theories etc. just don’t be a dick about it, I’m not engaging in any discourse.

Ok. So. I have mixed feelings, and I’m aware that this is because I don’t have the whole story yet. So this is all contingent on how the rest of the season plays out.

First and foremost, I’m… wildly swinging back and forth between love and disappointment for Viktor’s arc. So first the negative, and I’ll try to keep it brief because a lot of people have already expressed this and I don’t need to be beating that particular dead horse.

Viktor has had his agency, his bodily autonomy, his original ideas and nearly everything that made him Viktor stripped away. Nothing so far has been his choice. And while this could have worked just fine for an original character, he wasn’t. So there is a massive disconnect between what this character was/should have been. In League, it was all his choice (albeit with a healthy dose of mental illness thrown in, but still). AND it was very heavily suggested that many of the augmentations he performed weren’t as extensive as he lead everyone to believe (namely the controlling/dousing of his emotions). But it appears that whatever the Hexcore did to him, it’s real. He is clearly having a difficult time accessing his emotions, and if he can feel anything, it is limited to the point of him being completely stoic. And the thing with stoic characters is that you obliterate any emotional payoff for the audience. It’s very hard to make an audience feel an emotional connection to a character’s story arc when they themselves don’t feel anything (I have a theory about this though, but I’ll address it a little later in this post). And then there is the issue of Blitzcrank. Blitz was Viktor’s whole world, after his exile. How are they going to swing that? Like, I’m not even asking for Blitz to be in Arcane (that would be great, but I really don’t think they have time). But I stg if they take Blitz away from Viktor, make them someone else’s invention (my suspicion is Heimer or he finds the idea in Sky’s journal)… I’m sorry but no. This was Viktor’s idea, Viktor’s genius. I will genuinely be extremely upset if they take that from him too.

Then there is the whole situation with Sky. First, this girl was fridged. She was nothing but a plot device and continues to be just that. It feels hollow and forced, especially now that he’s hallucinating her as some sort of penance for what he did. (I have seen the prevalent theory that it’s the Hexcore using her image and his guilt to manipulate him, given that it “ate” her, and we have seen it “manipulate” him before when it punished him for trying to destroy it). But back to Sky—he barely acknowledged that poor girl. The reason for that can be argued, whether it’s because he’s gay or because he was just so wrapped up in his one-track minded research. But regardless, there just wasn’t enough setup between those two for this whole thing to have as much weight and meaning as I think it’s supposed to. Honestly to me (TO ME) it reeks of comphet. It feels like that random woman they threw at Poe Dameron to No Homo him. I’m not even asking for Jayvik canon. But the creators were well aware of this ship, after all it’s the second most popular ship in this show and it’s been around since 2012 when Jayce was literally created for Viktor. I’m asking for the bare minimum here—that it’s left open-ended as it was in League, open for interpretation.

Last negative I have is the whole Viktor Jesus thing. The first problem is I am pretty violently agnostic, and messiah narratives have never spoken to me. I don’t enjoy them, they feel weak. The whole “ordained by a higher power” thing is just… stale. Especially when this character originally had no higher power, he gave it to himself through his own hard work and ingenuity. Honestly, Viktor’s original arc is about as far from a Jesus allegory as you can possibly get. And I am absolutely terrified that they’re going to end said Jesus arc the way you’d expect—with him dying for it. Which leaves the moral of his story “disabled man should have just accepted that he was going to die despite the fact that it was the oppression and xenophobia of Piltover that left him out to dry, without proper health care, accessibility, equality, or equity that lead to his terminal diagnosis to begin with.” Which is a very oppressor-centric narrative and we do not need another one of those.

Sorry, I know I said I’d keep the negatives brief, and that was… not. My bad. But moving on!

I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, I did. I am working to embrace this new Viktor narrative and work it into my brain in a way that doesn’t ruin the ship for me. So without further ado, the positives.

Jayce.

Jayce.

Jayce.

I’d have to go back and time it, but it feels like he got more screen time in this first act than the entirety of the first season combined, and his character shined for it. It humanized him in ways season one never did. He’s caring, he’s devoted, and he loved Viktor! No matter what kind of love you think it is, it proves he loved Viktor without a doubt. He carried Viktor several city blocks to the lab to save him, and then YES, he broke his promise about the Hexcore because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

And he’s funny! (The scene where he picks up the regular sized hammer in the fight against Renni and made that “this is ironic” face?? And then basically the entire interaction with Ekko? The hand me a tome thing, and then when he basically pulled this when Ekko suggested “so this is all your fault cuz you pissed off the Arcane”:

GOD that shit was great. Jayce’s personality just shined, and maybe it’s too much to hope, but maybe this will douse a little of the hate. Because instead of being a subtle hint at all of those things being true about him, it’s now overt. And when people lack media literacy, the hints have to be overt.

And th-the. The h. The HUG SCENE. I don’t think I will ever emotionally recover from that scene. Starting with Viktor who, despite being clearly emotionally—I dunno, vacant I guess—sounded so lost and scared when he said “what am I?” For me, it was whispers of that scene from The Last Unicorn: “what have you done to me?” And my poor sweet Jayce, who clearly hasn’t left this damn lab except to go to Cassandra’s memorial. Sleeping on the desk and bleeding through his bandages because he doesn’t want to spend a moment away from Viktor while he “recovers.” And his euphoric response when he finds Viktor alive, when he realizes he hasn’t lost him. And I OWE HIM AN APOLOGY, goddamn. I said in a post that “Jayce will not understand.” I thought that was how Arcane was gunna start the divorce. But Jayce genuinely did not care, as long as his lover friend was alive. And just… Jayce being so affectionate through this entire scene. The hug obviously, but also blurting things he thought he’d never get to say to Viktor—“I’m resigning from the council, my place was always here in the lab with you.”

And… the hug itself. I know we’re all analyzing it frame by goddamn frame, but I see exactly what everyone else sees—there is a moment where Viktor very subtly smiles. But it’s gone in an instant, and it turns bittersweet. LOOK AT HIM.

There is something there, it’s just buried. Deep beneath the surface. It seems to say “I want this, I have wanted this for so long.” But then he realizes something, something I don’t think we’re meant to understand yet. Maybe that he doesn’t feel anything about it anymore, and he recognizes that this should upset him and it doesn’t. Or perhaps it’s something more along the lines of “it’s too late.” Whatever it is, I think this is the exact moment he knows he has to walk away. Because he knows he’ll cave to the affection, he said it himself. (Which is another thing entirely. His voice changes when he says that. Something in him is reacting to that word. Maybe he’s fighting against it, or maybe he’s fighting to get it back. But something made him almost growl that word.)

Which leads me to my final thought (for this post anyway, cuz it’s turning into a novel); Viktor is still in there. He can still feel things, I just think they’re extremely muted by whatever the Hexcore did/continues to do to him, or he has to fight to express them. Because he also smiled at the hallucination of Sky after he “cured” Huck. And if he feels nothing, he wouldn’t have been “joyous” at the thought of her being proud of him, approving of the good things he’s trying to do in her memory. He wouldn’t crave that validation, that vindication from her. So I’m hopeful that we start to see this shell crack a little, especially if those visions of Sky are the Hexcore manipulating him through guilt. It will start to erode him, no matter how stoic he has become. And literally the only thing I’m clinging to is that Jayce will see this and try to pull him out. “He’s still in there and I have to save him.” And that maybe it’ll start to work.

[laismoura-art]

Ok so...

Twice now i’ve seen people approach @elsa-fogen about a take that is “Alastor is in hell because of Voodoo” (the latest one basically saying he is in hell solemnly because of Voodoo”) and I can’t help but feel there’s reeks of religious intolerance from his take (even if it’s not intentional) cause let’s not forget, Voodoo is a religion (main one in places such as Haiti and Gana), and it’s often stigmatised and viewed through the wrong light. So you all can understand how a take like this could rub someone the wrong way and be deemed as religious intolerance.

But as I know this fandom is PAINFULLY stubborn and probably will want to keep exploring this take even if it makes some people uncomfortable (take the people who refuse to acknowledge Alastor as aro and the people who refuse to stop calling Alastor a wendigo for instance) I would like to offer an alternative take: 

See, I’m not from Voodoo and it’s not that big of a religion here in Brazil, however, we do have two other religions here that are similar/derivatives from Voodoo (Candomblé and Umbanda) and face similar prejudices, so I’m making this based mostly on these two but know that it also applies to Voodoo. 

In Umbanda, we have a higher god, the Orixás (entities that provide guidance and protection) and we have spirits, these spirits divide in different groups and offer advices and guidance to all types of people, there are spirits that look after women, children, grieving parents and even the lost (such as drug addicts).

But as we have good spirits, we also have bad ones. they are popularly known as “espiritos de porco” (pig spirits) who are usually mischievous and even ill intended spirits that might loom over you if they feel a bad energy coming from you or if you are spiritually unprotected and they will start to cause you misfortune and even make you feel weak and sick.

Some ill-intended people use these bad spirits against people they want to harm, the bad spirits may guide them in performing a ritual or maybe the spirit will loom on this targeted person. 

It’s (partly) due to people like this that these religions have such bad reputation, but these people basically perform their religion in a corrupted way! Umbanda is a religion that connects you with nature and guides you spiritually, it’s deeply connected with healing practises (mentally, physically and spiritually), but as I said, like EVERY other religion, it can be corrupted and used to harm.

I think the best use of “corrupt vs proper use of religion” I’ve seen comes from Disney's The Princess and the Frog. People usually remember Dr Facilier better, who used Voodoo against his enemies and to harvest power (much like a certain deer man we all know and love) but we also had Mama Odie (which is a real figure in voodoo, mind you. Also present in Umbanda, a Mama Odie is sort of a priestess of the religion) notice how she is a much more accurate representation of the religion, she lives in contact with nature, she performs her rituals and prayers in the wide while dancing with a very positive energy around, and she wears white (which is the most recommended colour to wear during rituals, as it’s a neutral colour and pleases all Orixás). 

So as you can see, there’s good voodoo practicants and bad ones, and in the end it’s all about how you use your religion, if you use it as you were taught, with pure intentions, seeking guidance and protection of good spirits and Orixás, or in a corrupt way, surrounding yourself with bad spirits and helping them spread their bad energy. 

So what I am hoping with all this is is that people put a stop to “Alastor is evil because he uses Voodoo” and adopt the “Alastor is evil because he does malpractice of Voodoo” which is a much more accurate to reality and respectful take. 

I’d even like to offer a headcanon of my own: 

That Alastor's mom was from Voodoo (maybe even was a Mama Odie herself) and taught Alastor all she knew and he corrupted her teachings and started using them for evil (perhaps even to aid him in his killing) and THAT, that corruption, was what sent him to hell, and true redemption for him would not to give up his powers/forsake his religion but actually to go back to his roots and use his powers for good (perhaps in a way that he ends up healing/saving someone (hopefully Charlie or Rosie)👀

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Heyoo! Can i request az x reader where they're mates and vowed to each other that till death do them apart. But az started questioning if he would die for his mate ever since elain came into picture, bcos of the 3 brothers for 3 sisters thing. And reader sort of found out about az's feelings and wanted time off from each other. Then all of a sudden war broke out in the court and everything was crazy. Reader went out to look for az making sure he is safe when she saw an arrow shot towards him and reader took the hit for az. And az started to regret his doubt in thie relationship and begging for his mate's forgiveness. Major angst pls and the ending is up to you! Thank you and have a great day 💖

Scattered Vows.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; way too much angst, mentions of death and battle. Mental illness.

Masterlist.

Uhm my heart broke. I think you will need a tissue box.

You watched the door of your bedroom for what felt like hours. A sigh escaped your lips, and you pressed your head on your mate’s pillow, his scent so faint like he hadn’t slept in your bed for weeks. And he probably hadn’t, you couldn’t remember the last time he stayed in bed for more than three hours.

The city was bright and warm offering a perfect view from the hill you were currently standing on. Your friends’ eyes were filled with tears as they watched you and your mate standing in front of the priestess.

“What do you vow to each other?” She asked.

“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” Azriel’s eyes watered as he spoke, his scarred hands grabbed your own and he pressed a soft kiss on your skin.

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” You chuckled and Azriel smiled.

“May the Mother bless this union and let it bloom like the most precious flowers” the priestess shouted and started murmuring a prayer.

“I love you my angel” Azriel whispered.

“I love you” you whispered back as the tears streamed down your face.

You teared up at the memory. Those vows meant something right? Even though he reeked of jasmine when he came back, he loved you right?

You heard the door open, and your mate’s footsteps filled the silence, making you wipe your tears and sit up. He removed his boots to not wake you and you suppressed the urge to scoff, you slowly slipped out of bed and walked down the hall to find him.

He was standing at the middle of the kitchen watching the two cold plates on the table with a frown.

“You’re here” you noted, and he glanced at you.

“Please don’t start I’m not in the mood.” He huffed.

“Don’t start what Azriel? You stood me up AGAIN” you threw your hands in the air.

“Fine you want to do this now? Okay” he yelled, and you flinched.

Azriel had never raised his voice at you, it was one of the things you loved about him, how you could always talk things out without wrecking your vocal cords.

“Where were you?” You asked and stepped closer.

“I had to finish some reports” he replied and you stepped even closer making him back off, you quirked a brow knowing exactly why he did it and marched to him sniffing. Jasmine.

Your hands clenched into fists, and you growled “you were finishing off reports or Elain’s cunt?”

His eyes widened and he bared his teeth “don’t speak for her like that”.

Your heart broke into million pieces, every fear suddenly felt real and deep down you realized that the union bloomed like a beautiful flower, but in Elain’s garden.

“You’re defending her?” You gaped at him, your face pale.

“I can’t do this anymore y/n. Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows…” he trailed off and you felt like his feet were stepping over the pieces of your heart, crushing them into even smaller fragments.

“Go on” you whispered and let the tears escape.

“I’ve been thinking about Cassian and Rhys…they are mated with two of the sisters and I wonder if I should be mated to the third one. Three brothers and three sisters.” He explained and his eyes watered.

“What?” You asked him.

“I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…” he avoided your eyes

“You want to protect her until your last breath” you whispered and he nodded.

“Okay, please pack your things and leave.” You continued.

“Don’t do this” he breathed “I’m so confused, I’m not even sure if this is what I want. I just spend time with her to see if I’m really interested or if it’s just a sick thought”

“You want me to stay with you until you decide which one you want?” You gasped at his nerve.

“I-i don’t know. Can we just take a break? I won’t touch her I promise I just need some time to think.” He pleaded.

You felt numb, and an adamant wall fell on your side of the bond, blocking him entirely.

You just wanted to be alone, you didn’t have any more power to argue. “Okay. Pack your things and leave and we will speak again when you make your decision.” You lied hoping it will get him out of the house as soon as possible.

“Thank you” he gave you a sad smile and walked into your bedroom. The small cottage you two had built a few months before the ceremony felt empty and dull now as every promise of love died slowly.

You covered your mouth with your palm to keep the sobs in as you clenched your eyes shut and let the tears flow. Azriel reached the door with a small bag thrown over his shoulder and glanced back at you. You turned your back on him and waited to hear the door shutting.

“I’ll be back” he promised and left.

When you couldn’t hear the beating sound of his wings anymore you let it all out, a heartbreaking scream wrecked your throat and you dropped on your knees. Every kiss, every touch, every promise pierced your skin and escaped to the darkness of the sky.

You remained on the kitchen floor for two days, letting every feeling out hoping that it would stop hurting so bad. You reached a point of numbness, where even your love for him was dull now, cursing at yourself for trusting him. He had your fragile heart in his hands, and he crushed it into mist, without a care, without a hint of regret. You pictured him in her arms and rage made your body tremble, you despised her even though it wasn’t her fault. She sure was a wicked female for leading on a mated male but then again why should she care? He was the one who should have said no.

A booming sound pulled you out of your thoughts and you felt the ground shaking making you furrow your eyebrows and peek out the window. Velaris' shield was gone, you couldn’t feel the magic anymore and winged creatures descended from the sky, slaughtering everyone in their path. The autumn court’s banners emerged from the mountains, with an army behind them. You gasped and quickly grabbed a dagger, running out of the cottage and winnowing to the main square, Feyre and Mor were there holding swords and shouting at people to hide.

“Where’s Azriel?” you shouted at Feyre.

“He….” She paused “He took Elain out of the city, he’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You shook your head, not letting your family’s betrayal cloud your senses. They knew and they supported them, like you never existed.

You ran towards the creatures letting all your feelings out as you sliced their necks, your vision clouding and the image of Azriel flying Elain to safety was the only thing you could see. You crouched and placed your hand on the ground screaming, your eyes became white, and your power flowed out of you, destroying creatures and buildings on its way. You gasped for air and glanced around you, Azriel had landed a few steps behind you, his eyes wide as he stared at you and what you did. You noticed a creature lurking in the corner with a bow in its hands, it grabbed an arrow and pointed it to your mate making your face pale.

“Az” you screamed and ran… ran like your life depended on it, the arrow was shot, Azriel whipped his head to the direction, and you jumped, using the remaining power to lunge yourself in front of him. Silence, deafening silence, a cry, pain, fear and darkness.

Azriel watched the arrow piercing your skin and the tip emerging from your back.

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” It rang in his mind.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” He cried out your name.

"I would even take an arrow for you.” “Stop” he ordered himself.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” He grabbed his head, his hands covering his ears.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” “No” he screamed and started hitting his head.

“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” He fell on his knees.

“Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows… I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…”  Darkness.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel woke up with a groan, he was in his room in the house of wind. He glanced around and noticed Elain sitting on a chair by his bed, her hand holding his own.

He stirred a bit and pulled his hand back making her flinch and open her eyes.

“Az” she whispered and tried to pull him in her arms.

“No! Where is she?” he shouted.

Rhysand entered his room and nodded at Elain to get out.

“Rhys where is she?” Azriel raised his voice again.

“Calm down, you need to rest, your shadows almost strangled you to death” his brother spoke.

“What? Why?” he gaped.

Rhys sighed “I went into your mind while you were asleep, you ordered them to strangle you because you wanted the thoughts to go away”.

Azriel’s eyes watered “Where is she? I have to go to her, I have to apologize. I need to beg her not to leave me”.

“I’m sorry brother, you’ve been out for five days. We couldn’t wait any longer so we buried her at the garden of your cottage”

“No!” Azriel screamed “No no no”

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.”  “NO” he screamed again as his body started seizing.

“Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows… I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…”  “Make it stop, please make it stop” he cried out.

Rhysand quickly moved to his side and grabbed his head making him go to sleep again.

“I’m sorry brother” he whispered and glanced at Feyre who was standing at the door, tears were streaming down her face.

“It’s done” she informed him and let him in her mind.

“Are you sure you want to do this y/n?” She asked you.

“Yes, this is for the best. Just tell him I’m dead.” You replied.

“Okay, please take care of her.” She spoke.

“I will, I promise to give her a place in my court” Eris nodded.

“Thank you” Feyre replied, “for everything, we wouldn’t defeat Beron without you”.

“It was my pleasure” Eris smirked and grabbed your hand.

Feyre let a tear slip as she watched you disappearing with Eris.

“Do you think he will survive this?” She asked Rhysand.

“I doubt it.” He sighed and they walked out, closing the door and locking it.

Sorry <3

[seoulzie]

범규; whispers of the unsleeping

───── orphic ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 (adj.) mysterious & entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding

synopsis: in the small city of yeosu, insomniac choi beomgyu seeks refuge in his school's abandoned astronomical observatory to catch some sleep. there, he encounters y/n l/n, a sociable and carefree girl who shares his struggle with insomnia. together, they form an unlikely friendship and revive their school's defunct astronomy club, spending their nights exploring the stars.

彡 pairing: beomgyu x f!reader 彡 genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers au, university au 彡 warnings: mentions of mental health & insomnia, parental abandonment (?) chronic illness, strong language, grief & loss

RELEASE DATE; 07/26/24 — this week, friday

index: prologue i. sleepless encounters capella ii. a place of our own vega iii. rekindling the stars proxima iv. phases of the moon, phases of us rigel v. cosmic challenge polaris vi. beyond the horizon altair vii. heart to heart betelgeuse viii. tomorrow's sunrise arcturus the end: epilogue

TAGLIST: OPEN! leave an ask in my inbox, reply to this post, or send me a dm!

CHOI BEOMGYU ( 21 ) ( M )

a student who struggles with trouble falling asleep most nights. consequently, he is irritable at school, always searching for an opportunity to find a secluded place to doze off. despite his gruff exterior, he is well-known around campus for his charming looks.

Y/N L/N ( 20 ) ( F )

a cheerful and enthusiastic student, the astronomy club president, whose secret battle with insomnia leads her to the solace of the astronomical conservatory at night. determined to keep her condition hidden, she finds refuge among the stars until she encounters another night owl, beomgyu.

PROLOGUE: CHAPTER 0 word count: 3.1k

another sleepless night. beomgyu stared up at the ceiling of his room, counting the cracks for the hundredth time. it was a game he played with himself when he couldn’t sleep, a futile attempt to trick his brain into shutting down. spoiler alert: it never worked.  he groaned, the sound echoing hollowly in the silent room, and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the faint glow of dawn creeping through the dusty blinds. the alarm clock on his nightstand blinked 6:00 am in angry red numbers, a mocking reminder of the day looming ahead.

with a sigh that condensed the exhaustion clinging to him like a shroud, beomgyu rolled out of bed. every muscle screamed in protest, a dull ache thrumming through his limbs. he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements heavy with sleep deprivation. his reflection in the mirror looked as shitty as he felt—dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up in every direction, and a permanent scowl etched on his face. he splashed some cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up enough to function through another hellish day at school.

he reached for his usual blue and white striped tube of toothpaste, but his fingers met only the cold, hard plastic of the sink. panic clawed at his throat. empty. of course, it was empty. why wouldn't it be? just his luck.

frantic, he rummaged through the cabinet under the sink, desperately searching for a spare tube. nothing. nada. just a half-empty bottle of mouthwash that reeked of peppermint and disappointment. he slammed the cabinet shut, the sound echoing through the small bathroom like a gunshot. “fucking hell.”

defeated, beomgyu straightened up, bracing himself for another blow. he hobbled over to his laundry basket, a tangled mess of unmentionables. he started digging, desperately searching for a matching pair of socks. hope flickered when his fingers brushed against soft cotton, then died a slow, agonizing death as he pulled out a lone, navy blue sock. where was its partner? had it been swallowed by a rogue dryer gremlin? eaten by a sock-hungry monster lurking in the washing machine?

beomgyu stared at the single sock in his hand, a monument to his perpetually bad luck. he was starting to think the universe had a personal vendetta against him. this wasn't just another day; it was a full-blown disaster waiting to happen, and he was just the hapless protagonist caught in the middle.

after throwing on his uniform and grabbing his backpack, he headed downstairs. his dad had already left for work, as usual. the house was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the chaotic mornings of his childhood before—stop it, he thought to himself. beomgyu shook off the unwelcome memories and grabbed a piece of toast on his way out.

he dragged himself to the front door, his feet protesting with each step. a splash of color outside his window caught his eye. mrs. han, his elderly neighbor, was kneeling by her rose bushes, her weathered hands wielding a watering can with surprising vigor. despite his fatigue, a small smile tugged at the corner of beomgyu's lips. mrs. han was a fixture in the neighborhood, a tiny woman with a heart as big as her prized hydrangeas.

"good morning, mrs. han," he managed, his voice rough from disuse.

she looked up, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a smile. "good morning, beomgyu. off to school already? you look a bit pale," she said with a motherly concern that always made him feel a flicker of warmth.

"just a little tired, mrs. han," he replied, offering a weak smile. "those history essays won't write themselves, you know."

mrs. han chuckled. "always busy, that's you. but remember, dear, rest is important too. don't you burn yourself out."

"i'll try my best," he promised, though the words tasted like ashes in his mouth. he knew the truth – sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford.

beomgyu continued his walk, the rising sun painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink. the usual sights and sounds of the morning held a peculiar distance, muffled by the fog in his brain. the bakery across the street, usually a source of enticing aromas, only offered a dull ache in his stomach – a reminder of the breakfast he hadn't bothered with.

as he neared the school gates, the sounds of chatter started to seep in, a rising crescendo of greetings and nervous laughter. he braced himself for the usual barrage of hellos and high-fives, his trademark charm already feeling strained. beomgyu wasn't just tired, he was running on fumes, his charisma a flickering candle in a hurricane of exhaustion.

just as he predicted, a cheerful voice chimed in from beside him. "beomgyu! looking handsome as ever this morning, even at this ungodly hour."

he turned to see yeri, a girl from his class with a smile as bright as her sunflower hair clip. she was notorious for her bubbly personality and her unashamed crush on him. usually, beomgyu would respond with a playful jab or a witty remark, adding to the innocent flirtation. but today, a single word was all he could muster.

"hey," he croaked out, a smile barely flickering across his lips.

yeri's smile faltered slightly. "everything okay? you seem...out of it."

he shrugged, the movement feeling like wading through mud. "just a late night studying." it wasn't a complete lie, but the truth felt too heavy to share.

"well," yeri continued, her voice losing a bit of its usual chirp, "don't let it get you down. math class first thing, right? let's just hope ms. choi isn't in one of her moods."

there was a time when such a comment would have sparked a playful banter, a shared groan about their least favorite teacher. today, beomgyu merely nodded, a hollow feeling settling in his chest.

despite his exhaustion, beomgyu couldn't help but notice the way heads turned in his direction, the whispered greetings, the stolen glances. he was undeniably popular, the school's resident charmer. but the weight of that popularity felt like a suffocating cloak.

a group of guys from the basketball team hollered a greeting, their voices echoing off the lockers. beomgyu offered a weak wave, the movement seeming to drain the last vestiges of his energy. a couple of girls from the dance club giggled as they passed, their eyes lingering on him for a beat too long. all he could do was muster a tired smile, the effort feeling monumental.

he reached his locker, the familiar combination numbers a blur in his sleep-deprived haze. as he shoved his books inside, a hand landed on his shoulder. it was kai, his best friend, his partner in crime (or at least, they were when beomgyu had the energy for crime fighting). kai, unlike beomgyu, was a beacon of energy, his perpetually ruffled brown hair and mischievous grin a constant source of amusement.

"dude, you look like a deflated balloon," kai commented, his voice laced with concern. "another night?"

beomgyu slammed his locker shut with a sigh that spoke volumes. "yeah," he mumbled, leaning against the cold metal for support.

kai's brow furrowed. "seriously, beomgyu. you've been like this for weeks. we talked about this already! you said you’d try anything besides looking like you haven't slept since kindergarten."

beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, a grimace creasing his face for a moment before smoothing out into a tired indifference. "yeah, yeah," he mumbled, more to himself than to kai. "it's whatever at this point."

kai's concern flickered, then died down as he picked up on the subtle shift in beomgyu's demeanor. he knew that tone – the one that said beomgyu was resigned, shutting himself off. pushing wouldn't help.

"alright," kai said, switching gears with the practiced ease, “come on, zombie boy. let's get to class before ms. choi starts discussing the square root of boredom."

the morning dragged on, each class blending into the next in a haze of exhaustion and boredom. beomgyu could barely keep his eyes open, let alone focus on the lectures. 

his first class was math, and he trudged to his seat, slumping down with a heavy sigh. he rummaged through his bag, only to realize he had forgotten his pen.

“hey, taehyun,” he whispered to the boy sitting next to him. “got a pen i can borrow?”

taehyun glanced at him and chuckled softly. “forgot yours again? here.” he handed beomgyu a pen, shaking his head in amusement.

“thanks, man,” beomgyu muttered, trying to muster a grateful smile. he opened his notebook and attempted to take notes, but his eyelids felt like lead weights. the teacher’s voice droned on, a monotonous hum that only made him feel sleepier.

his head began to nod, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay awake. just as he was about to give in to the sweet embrace of sleep, he heard his name being called.

“mr. choi,” the teacher’s voice was sharp and reprimanding. beomgyu jolted awake, blinking rapidly.

“y-yes?” he stammered, sitting up straight.

“care to repeat what i just said?” the teacher asked, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

beomgyu’s mind went blank. he hadn’t heard a single word. “uh… something about calculus?” he guessed, hoping he was at least close.

the class snickered, and the teacher sighed in exasperation. “detention, mr. choi. maybe next time you’ll pay attention instead of dozing off in my class.”

beomgyu slumped back in his seat, cursing under his breath. “great. just fucking great,” he thought.

by the time lunch rolled around, beomgyu was ready to collapse. he shuffled towards the cafeteria, his head hanging low. he spotted his friends at their usual table and dragged himself over, the fluorescent lights feeling like a personal attack on his already throbbing head.

"yo, beomgyu!" yeonjun called out, waving him over. "you look like shit, man. rough night?"

beomgyu slumped into a chair, the metal groaning under his weight. a defeated grunt escaped his lips as he slumped his tray onto the table. "yeah," he mumbled, picking at his food with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

soobin, munching on an apple, raised an eyebrow. "again? dude, you really need to see a doctor or something."

beomgyu shrugged, picking at his food without much appetite. "what are they gonna do? prescribe me more useless meds? no thanks."

yeonjun leaned forward, concern etched on his face. "have you tried, like, meditation or something? i heard it can help."

beomgyu rolled his eyes. "yeah, 'cause sitting still and doing nothing is gonna magically cure my insomnia. thanks, but no thanks."

taehyun looked at him, frowning. "you really should try something, man. this can’t be good for you."

beomgyu sighed. "yeah, well, i’ve tried everything. nothing works. now i’ve got detention ‘cause i fell asleep in math."

taehyun winced. "harsh. what are you gonna do?"

"skip it, maybe. find a quiet place to sleep," beomgyu muttered, pushing his tray away.

beomgyu wandered the halls, his mind a jumble of thoughts and exhaustion. the school was a labyrinth of possibilities, each one fraught with its own set of risks and potential rewards. he needed to find the perfect place to nap, somewhere quiet and out of the way where no one would bother him.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) the janitor's closet

the first place that came to mind was the janitor’s closet. beomgyu had passed by it a million times, always noticing how the janitor, mr. lee, would leave it unlocked while he went about his duties. beomgyu headed towards the closet, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. he carefully turned the knob and slipped inside.

the closet was small and dark, filled with cleaning supplies and equipment. the smell of bleach and disinfectant was strong, but beomgyu didn’t care. he saw a small space behind a stack of boxes and decided it would have to do. he crouched down, wedging himself into the cramped space. the floor was cold and hard, but he was desperate for some rest.

he closed his eyes, trying to let the darkness and quiet lull him to sleep. just as he felt himself drifting off, the door creaked open. beomgyu’s eyes snapped open, and he held his breath. mr. lee stood in the doorway, a look of confusion quickly turning to annoyance on his face.

“hey! what are you doing in here?” mr. lee barked.

“shit,” beomgyu muttered under his breath. he scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. “sorry, i—uh—i got lost?”

mr. lee narrowed his eyes. “out. now.”

beomgyu didn’t need to be told twice. he quickly slipped past the janitor and out into the hallway, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. so much for that.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

next, beomgyu decided to try the library. it was usually quiet, and he figured he might be able to find a secluded corner to catch some z’s. he made his way to the library, the scent of old books hitting him as soon as he stepped inside. the librarian, mrs. tanaka, gave him a stern look over her glasses, but he ignored her and began his search for the perfect spot.

the library was mostly empty, with only a few students scattered around, hunched over their books. beomgyu walked past the rows of shelves, looking for a place where he could hide from prying eyes. he found a spot in the back, behind a tall stack of books on astronomy. it was quiet, and he could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning.

he sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and pulled his knees to his chest. the cool air and the silence were soothing, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy. just as he was about to drift off, he heard footsteps. he peeked around the stack of books and saw a group of girls walking towards him, giggling and chatting.

“great,” he thought. “just great.”

the girls didn’t notice him at first, but as they got closer, one of them spotted him. she nudged her friend, and they both started whispering and giggling even louder. beomgyu felt his face heat up with annoyance and embarrassment. this was definitely not going to work.

he got up, brushing the dust off his pants, and made his way out of the library, ignoring the stares and whispers of the girls. “too many people and out in the open,” he thought. scratch that idea.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

beomgyu trudged on, defeat clinging to him like yesterday's gym clothes. he formulated a mental list in his head, each possibility crumpling under the weight of potential interruptions. the rooftop? too exposed. the music room? a rogue trumpet could shatter any hope of sleep.

his weary eyes scanned the familiar halls, a sliver of hope flickering as he rounded a corner. there it stood, a solitary figure against the twilight sky—the astronomy tower.

the tower, a relic of a bygone era of scientific exploration. its once-gleaming silver exterior was now weathered and rusted, the windows dark and vacant. It had been years since anyone had ventured inside, rumors of asbestos and ghosts swirling around it like dusty cobwebs.

but for beomgyu, in his desperate search for a haven, the tower's isolation was a siren song. no students lingered in its shadow, no teachers patrolled its perimeter. in that forgotten corner, a flicker of hope ignited. it might be dusty, it might be creepy, but it could be perfect. as he neared the tower, the details became more pronounced: chipped tiles forming the entrance walkway, a rusty weather vane groaning in the faint evening breeze, and the peeling paint revealing the faded inscription "ad astra per aspera" - "to the stars through difficulties." an odd prickle ran down his spine. the inscription felt oddly fitting, a challenge on this day of immense hardship. could the tower, in its own dilapidated way, be his path to the stars? to sleep, the most elusive star in his current reality? the door was old and creaky, and it took a bit of effort to push it open. just as he was about to reach for the door handle, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

“fuck,” beomgyu muttered, feeling his shoulders slump in defeat. the observatory would have to wait. he decided then and there that he would check it out tomorrow during his free period. he turned and trudged back down the hallway, the prospect of a good nap tantalizingly out of reach.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

© 2024 seoulzie

[gyllenhaux]

also can we talk about how hannibal went YEARS without so much as being a suspect for any sort of crimes (excluding il mostro in his early years) yet the SECOND he was asked to speak with and work with that sweaty autistic mentally ill fbi profiler with encephalitis that reeked of dog, he was willing to tangle himself up with the fbi and even to submit himself to a life in a glass box

[mcytblrconfessions]

I actually do not like Qsmp Tallulah 'd character, as someone who survived the dsmp and saw Wilbur's character in the dsmp get villainized heavily, only because he was mentally ill, I can already see the same thing happening to Qsmp!Wilbur(character). The fandom already feels like it will reek of ableism, pretty soon, to the point I actually hope, Qsmp Wilbur (character) gets a story away from tallulah.

nah ur lame as hell for this anon.

[squiddy-god]

Twst cowboy/western AU

Omg ok so I have so many thoughts here we goooo!!! 

Tw: western Au! Mental illness, guns and gangs, I think that's it- this is a pretty wholesome au soooo

New tags! Town of Night Raven, twisted western, twst western!Au

Ok this au takes place in like the 1890’s in the small western town of Night Raven 

I'll go in order of the boys 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Managed to move away from his mama and go here, he still writes her but he's dead to her and it crushes him

He's a good ole english boy turned cowboy and night Raven is the only town that would take him 

He runs the town's stables and looks after the horses, acting as a sort of vet for their illnesses. Takes house calls to peoples farms so he can fix up their animals.

He has quite the temper and kicks like a horse himself 

Trey Clover 

Local dentist and doctor. 

Friends with Riddle but ain't much for horses

Definitely has this work cut out for him in this mess of a town. 

Came from the big city and knew Riddle as a kid before he moved back to London

Was shocked to see him in night Raven looking like he'd been dragged through hell 

Ace trapola 

Moved west for money and settled in night Raven only to never leave 

Causes a bunch of trouble for the law, always galavanting around town and getting in bar fights

Works at the stable with Riddle and deuce but barely is there to work and just messes around with the horses 

Punched riddle once when he first came to town and has not hit him since considering that Riddle got a lot better at fist fighting since you first came in

Deuce spade 

Used to be a gang outlaw before he came to night Raven and decide he wanted a quiet life to make his mama proud 

Hardest worker at the stables and dose all the lifting

Part time ranch hand out at the big farm Crowley owns 

Leona kingscolar

Runs a gang of outlaws and reeks quite a bit of havoc on night Raven

Came from a wealthy family but left the big city's to make his own path

Succeeded, his territory is pretty big in the West and he just needs night Raven to make it complete 

Only problem is night Raven has waring gang factions

A quick shot and a good rider

Ruggie bucci 

Used to be a street thief to support his town before Leona took over and things got better

Has been his errand boy and enforcer ever since 

Still steals but mostly from rich blokes he finds on the side of the rodes

He's a better shot than Leona, always has two 6 shots and a knife on him. 

Jack howl 

Honestly never wanted to be in a gang but Leona wouldn't leave him alone.

Only joined cause his family lives in a town Leona controls. 

Mostly works as a farm hand for Crowley because of his muscle

Is the one to break up epels bar fights all the time 

Has a mean right hook 

Azul ahsengrotto 

Runs the morstro saloon that he uses to conduct his under the table business. 

He co-owns it with vil

Octovinell is his gang, with jade too his right and Floyd to enforce his rules, 

Active in the night Raven gang wars but mostly just the dirty money he sweeps under the table for arms dealing and such 

jade leech 

Infamous leech brothers 

Escaped convicts that azul took in when they were first forming the gang. 

Handles most of the product side of things for the “business” and runs the front of the house with vil

Spent most of his early life taking care of Floyd and his troubled mind 

Floyd 

Troubled mind growing up, 

They ended up as orphans before they where 12 and had to fend for themselves

Killed three men in a town and ran, from place to place

7 bodies in total before they where caught and thrown in jail. 

Escaped and joined azuls gang at 17 and have been with him ever since. 

Relatively charming young man if you ignore the teeth and glare he sports in a bad mood 

Kalim al-hasim 

Moved west for peace and quiet and decided to bring Jamil along with him 

He's the kind but sort of naive shop owner

Runs the general goods store and has a real knack for business 

Partners with Crowley's farm to supply the store of most produce. 

If you need something bought or sold you either talk to kalim or azul 

Jamil Viper 

Resents kalim for dragging him west 

But he does like the freedom of the western deserts 

Works at kalims shop and chases off any of their more unruly customers (see : Leona and azuls gangs) 

Definitely learned how to shoot and became one of the best shots in town. 

Has his own horse named saffron who's just the most beautiful red! 

Vil schroheint 

Co-owns the salon with azul and runs the front of the house with jade! 

He's absolutely gorgeous, has a slight German accent and often gets mistaken for a lady. 

Was a singer and actor in Germany

Definitely a more effeminate man but after they watched him beat the snot out of some unruly customer they don't mention it. 

Rook calls him gorgeous. And that's it. 

Always mad at epel for bar fights 

Rook hunt 

Definitely a hunter

Always sells his game at kalims shop and always has the best catches

Most avoid him because he's an odd Fellow but no one can deny his skill at hunting. 

Follows vil around so much his nickname has become “the saloon owners dog” 

Epel felimer 

Farm hand at Crowley ranch after he quit working for vil. 

In this au he's a bit taller and more muscular

Realistically he's a strong farm boy, good at bucking hay and climbing trees. 

Mostly tends to the Apple trees but he also herds in the cattle 

Gets in a lot of bar fights 

Vil thinks he's too crass with his thick accent 

Idia shroud 

Rich city guy that moved here unwillingly 

But he's here and he's scared of the gangs

Mostly keeps to himself and is pretty paranoid 

Reads books like crazy, his little house is more of a library then it is a home- well ok it is the local bookstore but his room and or this are on the second story

Used to be quite the gunSlinger before ortho

Ortho shroud 

Takes care of his troubled brother and runs most of the errands! 

Brings home stray cats for idia and always plays with the dogs! 

He's a sweet boy who all but begs people to teach him to shot so he can be just like his big brother but no one budges 

Malleus draconia 

The marshal

With his black Stetson and those horns it has on it makes him look like the bloody devil

And to some he is. 

Really disomnia is more of a benevolent gang, but they enforce the law and keep things mostly peaceful 

Malleus himself is a sweet man but a scary one

All outlaws with territory bigger than leona could ever hope 

Lilia vanrouge 

Outlaw and ex mercenary before he settled down with disomnia 

Malleus right hand 

Fought in the war before he became a hired gun, then an old friend called in a favor and he raised malleus and settled down. 

Joined the gang malleus formed and was right into the thick of it. 

Now he's really settled, just a older gentleman raising his adopted son silver now. 

Silver vanrouge 

 The poor baby he found 

Technically Lilia is the one who made him an orphan but- he felt so bad he adopted silver. 

Now he's a strong young man who loves his pops 

A member of disomnia and works in the town as part of law enforcement occasionally

Besides that he helps Lilia with his little farm. A few cows and some goats, sheep and chickens. 

Nothing much but it still what he loves. 

Sebek zigvolt 

Joined disomnia after seeing Lilia and melleus in a shoot out and becoming an instant devotee 

Works full time as law enforcement. 

Has a penchant for trying to break up bar fights but ends up getting roped into them on accident. 

Denies it but he's so gentle with the horses it's insane to think it's the same boy always yelling and shouting. 

Dire Crowley 

Mayor of the town and a shady one too. 

Pays off all three gangs so they don't kill each other 

Runs a big farm on the outskirts of town that supplies a lot of work. 

Comes into town often but no one likes him much

Definitely a few skeletons in the closet. 

[milequaritchsslut]

Neteyam x Dead Reader Part 2

Warnings: crying, tainted reality, mental illness, suicide, pregnancy. blood, death, depression

Summary: after your death, Neteyam doesn’t know what to do without his mate

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

…

“Neteyam, for your own sake go and talk to your family they miss you” you begged your mate, who was connected to the tree of souls to talk to you. The night before he had slept here, and tonight would be no different. “But it is better here with you yawne” he protested, too deep in his sorrows to listen to your demands. You didn’t want to disconnect from him but you knew it was the only way he would listen to you.

“If you will not listen to me Teyam, I will disconnect” warning him, his expression soon changed from a warm smile to teary eyed. “No please yawne, please don’t disconnect I don’t know what I will do without you!” Falling to his knees as he wrapped himself around you. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of being without you. He refused to face this reality, the reality that you were dead. The reality that he was alone once again, with no mate by his side. He had not cleaned himself in days, he reeked of rotting food and horrid body odor. He refused to leave your side at the tree of souls. He hadn’t disconnected in days and it was effecting his physical body. He had become weak, from postponing his training for months now. His arms were small and scrawny, and his legs weak. Due to him never eating it was hard for him to walk sometimes. You were the only thing he thought of, the only thing he really longed for.

In his eyes you were still here, still alive and breathing. You were just taking a break from life for a little while, of course you’d come back! You didn’t die, everyone was just confused. He was the only one who knew you’d come back, the only one who knew the truth. But one day he would have to wake up from this reality he had created with you. This false reality, his tainted mind had formed. And you were the one who would do that, you couldn’t bare seeing your mate like this. The boy you once walked with every night, had turned into a leech. Never leaving you alone, always by your side. It pained you to do this to him but you knew it was for the best. “I love you Neteyam, please take my advice” you finally spoke, disconnecting he was brought back to reality. Sitting down on the mossy floor, alone once again. His eyesight turned blurry, the tears coming down with no sign of stopping. Shielding himself from the outside world, he rocked himself back and forth. His head in between his knees, as he wailed for your touch once again.

“What will i do without you yawne?” He asked, as if you were sitting there with him. This was routine for him, talking to himself all night. Acting like you were there, your physical body still being in his grasp as he reached out for something that would never be there. It had seemed that Ewya had turned her back on him. Letting his mind go to mush without you here. Letting his body rot away when he wasn’t talking to you. Though the clan prayed for him to heal, the healing never started. It would never start, as long as you were still in his memory. He would never heal, not without you by him.

Maybe he didn’t need to heal, what if he could be with you forever? He had never thought of it up until now. He yearned for you, for your voice to fill his ears up once again. Why couldn’t he? Wiping his tears from his glossy sockets, he closed his eyes. Letting the image of your body flood through his mind. Remembering the feeling of your soft hair in his grasp, the feeling that surged through his body when he would feel your touch, the plans you two had made for the future. He remembered the day you had told him you were pregnant, the feeling that rose throughout his body was unimaginable. He took you into his warm embrace as tears of joy ran down his face at the thought of a little copy of him running around. His biggest wish was having a family with you, he had prayed to Ewya that she would bless you with child. And his prayers had been answered, he planted kisses all around your womb.

That seemed so long ago now, the reality of having you bear his child was impossible now. You were dead and so was his unborn child, this pain was too much for him. He needed it to stop, he needed a way out. This was the only way he could truly be happy, by joining you with Ewya. Bringing himself to the present, he quickly reached for his hunting knife in his holster. The shiny object glistening in the bioluminescent lights surrounding him, gave him hope of a better future with you. Without a second thought he angled the object towards him. Cutting through his own skin, the end of the knife had hit his heart. Looking down at the cut, he watched as the blood gushed out of his body. This was his way out, the only way he could feel happiness again. The pain was nothing compared to the agony he felt without you.

But soon his eyelids turned heavy, too weak to keep them open he slowly let them shut. The last thing on his mind was seeing you again, his only goal in this life was to see you. What felt like seconds later he opened his eyes, being awakened by a familiar voice. His eyelids opening, he was met with your face hovering over him begging him to wake up. “Y-y/n?” He asked, laying on the grassy ground.

“Neteyam!”

taglist: @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @dyingofcookies

[heilith]

Never Die

The art and prompt by the very cool Oak_Hawthorn, for the Scribbles and Drabbles 2023

There is a cloaked figure sneaking around in the Elvenking's Halls. They make an effort to remain unseen, but they seem set on a path to the King's treasury. Is it a Man, an Elf, or someone else entirely? What is their purpose here? Are their intentions good or ill?

Enjoy. I myself refuse to read it yet again, so all that might be wrong with it will be corrected later. I hope there are no such things. :) But deep inside I know there are.

@fall-for-tolkien

Never Die.

“A dragon.”

He missed the moment of the intrusion entirely. He harboured no slightest suspicion his Kingdom was a little less than inaccessible. But it was. Not enough for a serious expression of alarm, as he first believed, but quite worthy of some degree of annoyance. 

Giving it a better afterthought now, he couldn’t but admit his vanity had served him a bad turn. The centuries he’d spent keeping the enemy out of the borders of his domain distorted his perception of what he was capable of. Threats turned into challenges, stability – into boredom.

It was only a matter a time until he was outplayed.

“A dragon,” repeated he, still utterly unbelieving. The truth appeared to be so ridiculous he couldn’t build a strategy around it – something that hadn’t happen to him for millennia.

The golden lizard gurgled happily, sucking and gnawing on one his prized silver sceptres.

“You didn’t need that one, Thranduil,” you scratched the creatures head most casually, which only added to the absurdity of the picture, “Eru knows how much time it took him to dig it out of this pile.”  

He felt like laughing. Not because he found your wit deserving of a laugh. Though yes, he did. He wasn’t fooling you and he couldn’t fool himself.

And yet the brainlessness he was witnessing before his very own eyes was beyond any humour.

The little spiky ball of happiness was reeking of evil for miles.

He first sensed it, making his way to the pool chambers. A viscous clot of a stranger aura. He walked into it headfirst and was plunged into the strongest vision he’d ever had a non-pleasure of enduring. A figure in a dark tattered cloak, someone from the outside, someone…

“I should have thought of it.”

Another lie he was forced to utter while searching for the ways to bring together the scraps of his dignity.

“You couldn’t have thought,” you interrupted him with a bold smile. He almost forgot how sweet you could be when you smiled, even if you meant no good, “Who could have dared?”

You could.

Now he could tell exactly why the three times cursed first vision had failed to trouble him enough. Your print on the plane of visions was familiar to him. You radiated the teasing vibes of an old…friend.

The knowing he was still considering you such was bitter.

Another phantom caught up with him a step away from the throne room. The cloak was wrapped around his shoulders this time. A burden in his hands was heavy. He pulled it closer to his chest to keep his balance…In a flash a surge of malicious energy coursed through him. The world blinked. There was no cloak. There was no burden. But the evil was still there.

“What do you want?” the composure was returning to him slowly. He had to stop behaving like he’d become a King two days ago.

“Why, to feed the child…”

The sceptre seemingly forgotten, the dragon spread a pair of ugly webbed wings and toddled to the nearest open chest. His claws were clanking against the floor like fine daggers.

“He cannot fly. Not yet,” you murmured with such tenderness in your voice he took it as a personal offense.  

 “We barely have food to feed ourselves,” he snapped, “And even if we did, what made you think I’d share it with…this.”

“Would you share it with me?”

“Before or after you had joined the ones who were slitting our throats open?”

He sent a mental order to the guards. He should have kept them by the treasury at all times, but who would ever have dared…

You would.

The traps were now everywhere. The shreds of the evil presence were slowly drifting in the corridors, giving him painful jolts each time he was unable to avoid them. The cloaked trespasser was invading his dreams. And no one could not only stop, but even see them.

He was helpless and brimming with ire.  

“I don’t need food, Thranduil. He doesn’t need it. He feeds on owning things. He’s a dragon.”

The guards had stormed in before he had warned them not to touch you. You were someone he craved for getting even with on his own.

You snapped your fingers with the same come-hither smile. The creature raised its head and stared at the soldiers with three limpid eyes, not a single thought in any of them.

The guards stopped short. Desperate, he was watching them turn away and march out of the treasury, as if a silent voice was shouting commands into their backs.

He didn’t protest, when your hand ran against his shoulder soothingly. He was at a loss.

“And that is how we passed by your watchposts. And your guards. And you – just once,” you spoke in a soft voice, as your fingers kept drawing small curving lines along his arms and up to his neck.

“Why did you leave with them?” asked he hoarsely, “For this?”

“They promised they would spare your son, Thranduil. I couldn’t trust you to protect him.”

“Are you still with them?”

You leaned your forehead into his chest. His arm defied his will, slipping around you like it had done so many times before.

“No,” you whispered, “But I will not return. Don’t worry, we won’t stay here for long.”

“And if I beg?”

You laughed again and lifted your hand again.  

A dry sound rolled across the treasury.

[neko-naruto]

tear a hole exquisite red (fuck the rest, and stab it dead)

Summary: Creek has layers to his personality just like any other Troll does, rotting and wretched and vomit inducing layers, but he has layers nonetheless

Warnings: psychological manipulation, physical violence, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: @bulliestrolls started the psychopath Creek au, so go give him some love for all of the glorious ideas his brain spawns. also Creek's a bit of a whore, just to spite Branch even if it means sleeping with all four of his brothers, because I think it's funny. anyways! if ya'll enjoyed consider dropping a reblog or checking the Ao3 port, it really means a lot

It's all a game for Creek, he's playing the long con and Floyd is his perfect little experiment. Who knows, maybe after he inevitably decides to make Floyd cut the cord, he'll try for Bruce, really tear a hole into Branch and his family. He can laugh at the thought of getting Bruce to divorce, to manipulate him into leaving Brandy for another Troll after Creek himself picks apart Floyd and and gives Branch enough mental anguish for a thousand lifetimes.

But no, that won't be enough, not for Creek. Oh not in the slightest, not after all the agony that Branch has given Creek, his vendetta will never be satiated. Who knows! Maybe he'll go so far as to return Branch to his gray state, that'd be delectable. That could make him feel a sense of satisfaction if anything ever could, or Branch's head on a platter, but the downside to the otherwise beautiful idea is that he wouldn't be able to torture Branch anymore.

"Creek!" It's Floyd, the specific tone of his voice is one that Creek has learned to pick out of a hundred in a similar fashion to Branch's. Just so he can hunt down Floyd and use his sweetness and ignorance of Creek's intentions as a weapon. The magenta Troll has this adorable smile on his face, well, adorable if it weren't for the downturned ears that look just like Branch's.

Creek gives a smile, warm like a fireplace on the TV screen, "Floyd, lovely to see you," He catches sight of Branch trudging behind the slightly older and quells a smirk before tacking on, "My love."

Then he's being hugged and as much as he wants to recoil in disgust when it comes to anything that Branch has any form of relation too, he doesn't. He has a performance to enact, and he plans on fulfilling the part with precision as much as it makes him feel ill and want to gag. But at least Floyd is tolerable compared to the likes of John Dory, Clay, or Bruce. He has gripes against each of them for seperate reasons than being Branch's older brothers.

John Dory is far too obnoxiously loud and arrogant and stubborn and always thinks he's perfect, and apparently he bailed on Branch which he can respect. Clay is somewhat paranoid, always has this brat (Poppy's sister, disgusting) clinging to his side, his hair is a mess too. And Bruce, well, Bruce isn't half bad, his only problem is how often he says sorry for leaving Branch to raise himself, and his domesticity, it reeks like rotting flesh.

"What brings the both of you to my meditation alcove?" Creek asked, giving a small bow to his 'boyfriend' and his least favorite person. He wanted to just be cold and cruel to Branch up front and center, the amount of vitriol stored in his tiny body towards Branch and the queen was unreal, but he refrained. He didn't let it seep through the cracks of his composure, he didn't let it show through until he was alone and could tear something to shreds.

"My brother has been having anger issues again, and he's looking a lot more gray than usual," Floyd explained and Creek just watched Branch get even more agitated as Floyd spilled details that should be confidential, or saved for close Trolls at the least. But wait, that's right, Creek is a close Troll now, and Branch just has to deal with that.

Creek gives a hum as he steps ever closer to Branch and takes his paw, it's yanked away and Creek feigns hurt.

"Branch, he's trying to help," Floyd hissed.

"Really, Branch, I just want to lend a hand," Creek tacked on.

Branch gave a long groan of annoyance before reluctantly letting Creek take his paw, only because it made Floyd smile. He hated every second of his bristled fur brushing against Creek even though it was for just under ten seconds.

"Unless he finds a way to perk up," Creek goes the extra mile to grab the tips of Branch's ears and flick them up, the graying Troll stumbles back. Oh he relishes in that and tries to hide his smirk, "He'll go gray again, I'd suggest meditation."

"I'd suggest meditation," Branch bitterly smarms back at Creek who raises a paw to his chest in faux hurt that only Branch can see through for some fucking reason.

"Branch! If you make one more jab at Creek, I'll," Floyd falters, "There will be consequences."

"Love," Creek begins with, "It's fine, I'm used to dealing with children," The glare Branch shoots is sharp enough to slice diamonds, "If you'd like you can leave him here and I'll teach him the basics of meditation."

Floyd gives this soft smile, completely wrapped up in Creek's performance, and then he presses a kiss to the purple Troll's cheek. Creek returns the favor before Floyd speaks, "Thanks, Creek, I'll be back in hour," And then he's taking his leave.

"You're gonna leave me here? With him?!" Branch questioned, a frantic lilt to his voice as he spoke. Two paws held one of Floyd's, desperation clear with how he held himself.

"You're in good hands," Floyd answered with before gently lifting Branch's paws off his own, "I'll bring snacks when I return."

Branch knows he won't win, "Alright, be careful."

Both Branch and Creek wait patiently for Floyd to be out of earshot range before they interact any further. And their interaction consists of Branch trying to tackle Creek to the ground without any remorse behind his actions. Creek doesn't scream, doesn't writhe, doesn't kick or retalliate, and that scares Branch more than any other reaction could. Instead the Troll in question just smiles, this calculating and cruel one that oh so often is matched with the rest of the face, not now, his eyes are cold and most of his face is stilled.

"What do you want with my brother?" Branch tried to snarl, hands resting atop of Creek's arteries, a bit of pressure and he'll go lightheaded, maybe even pass out. It's illegal to kill a Troll, but every single day that Branch has to watch Creek feign domesticity around Floyd he gets closer to committing an atrocity.

Creek gives a hum, "Your suffering, as sweet as he is he's not my type," He watches Branch go through a thousand thoughts at once and the second he knows Branch is starting to formulate a response he adds on, "I'd go for a guy like Bruce if nothing else."

"You absolute cunt," The expletive is more of a harsh whisper, voice coarse with rage, "You homewrecker."

And Creek just laughs, "Oh, Branch, don't you get it?" He ever so carefully raises a paw and traces it across Branch's face, and he knows that the graying Troll would flinch back but he can't lest he wants to let go of Creek's throat, "I'll drop to lows you've never even heard of it'll hurt you- and if your brothers are the collateral damage? That's not really my problem."

"You're fucking sick, do you know how Floyd's gonna react hen he hears this? You'll break him," Was all that Branch could supply in response to to the downright sickening knowledge he had been given.

"And that'll hurt you, which is really what I'm looking for. But if I want a chance to have a go at any of your other brothers then I'll have to let him down easy," Creek said, "I've talked my way into getting a Bergen to not eat me and give up on happiness. You know damn well I can convince Floyd he's the monster so your brothers and all of Pop Village will come to my aid."

Branch steps back from Creek, speechless, and then the fucker laughs.

"They'll come to my aid Branch, they'll be doing everything they can to make sure I don't off myself while leaving Floyd to suffer- and the best part of it all, Branch? It's a two for one deal, and I just know that one of your brothers will be too caught up in making sure I'm okay to even realize how fucked Floyd is," Creek spat, "I'll fuck that one next."

"I'm gonna tell Poppy everything," Branch said firmly like the words would register as a threat to a Troll that's escaped death three times over now.

"She'll never fucking believe you," Creek answered with and the break of silence from Branch is all he needs as an answer. He stands up and makes his way over to Branch, firmly grasping his jaw, "What're you gonna do about it, Branchie?"

Branch doesn't have an answer ready for what he just had unloaded onto him, all he can do is wrench away Creek's paw. He steps back and wipes his paw off on his vest, "Something."

Creek gives a hum and a smirk, "Cute, you think you can beat me at my own game."

"Oh I don't think I can, I know I will," Branch snapped back with.

"We'll see," Creek said, again with this calculating and cruel smile on his face, "When Floyd crumbles you'll go down with him," It isn't an idea, it's something that Creek knows is true, "I look forward too it."

-/-/-/-

Its Bruce.

After Creek has cried a god damn ocean of crocodile tears and used gold to frame Floyd as the monster, Bruce ends up being his next weapon. And he even went so far into twisting Floyd's perception of reality that the magenta Troll is the one saying sorry even though he did nothing wrong. Even though he was the sweetest Troll in all of Pop Village, turned to a somewhat paranoid and reclusive Troll whose graying just like Branch is.

He loved Floyd to pieces. He loved Floyd into his basic elements. He loved Floyd into a million little bits that can never be arranged again. He loved Floyd and played him as the monster with so much accuracy that even the true victim was fooled into thinking he did everything wrong. He loved the way he played Floyd, he loved the way he could use Floyd, he loved everything about Floyd except for the fact that he was Floyd.

Maybe it's wrong, being a user in the way that Creek is, but he doesn't quite care. So long as it brings Branch mental agony than he'll be enacting it, whether it's him being the source of Floyd's joy or pain. And now he's going to go through the same song and dance all over again with Bruce, except, to a considerably more intensive degree.

Because with Bruce he has competition; and that would be Brandy, Bruce's soon to be former wife. What fun really, Creek can tear two families to shreds in one go while no one is looking. He'll gouge another gaping wound into Branch's family and he'll completely excommunicate Bruce from his family.

He's playing this pathetic act when he casts out the first bait for Bruce, sniffling and whimpering as he leans against the purple Troll. He has his knees hitched, "God, I just, I can't believe I was so blind for three months," He forces his breath to catch.

Bruce rubs comforting circles against his acquaintances back, "I wouldn't have seen it coming either, Floyd of all Trolls," It makes sense he'd never have seen it coming what with it never happening at all. All those years in acting school finally paid off for Creek, and he's using them to seduce a Troll with a wife and thirteen kids just to spite Branch.

"I don't even think any of the kisses were real," Creek sighed, slowly lowering his knees and tilting himself to face Bruce just a little bit more. He had to work this operation delicately, like giving someone a transplant, one wrong incision into Bruce's psyche this early on will botch the entire attempt. And he can't have that happening, no not at all, then he wouldn't have a chance to break apart Clay or John Dory afterwards.

"I get it, being the heart throb brings a lot of insincere praise your way," Bruce laughed a little bit as he spoke, edging away from Creek just a bit.

Creek gives this smile, the smallest upturn of his lips at one corner, "Well, if I kissed you it wouldn't be insincere," There's a slight twitch in Bruce's expression. Exactly what Creek is looking for.

"Yeah well, I'm married now, I have a wife willing to give me as many kisses as I so desire," Bruce said, a hint of defensiveness to his voice.

"Well," Creek begins, dragging out the 'L' as he speaks, "Brandy doesn't need to know, it's just between two friends isn't it?"

Bruce is crumbling, Creek can feel it, he can see it, he devours the destruction of resolve. The purple Troll gives a sort of discontented sound, a partially confused one, "Just between two friends, to make up for the falling out between you and Floyd."

Paws are already upon Bruce's face before he can finish his sentence because Creek already knew that the answer would be yes. He's swift to lean in and speak in a tone that he knows will snag Bruce on a barbed hook, "Thank you, Bruce."

And Bruce moves first and Creek has to try his hardest to not smirk into the kiss that picks up pace so much faster than he thought it would.

Hook, line, and sinker.

[randomlyblues]

Yandere!Zane X Librarian!Reader

Part 1

CW:Mention of kidnapping not beta read 1.3k word count

You were on a cloud, melted into the soft fabrics, you didn't want to leave. After stirring a bit in your bed, the memories from the day before made you realize that you weren't home and this isn't your bed. The fabrics were made of the finest, it reeked of luxury. You quickly snapped up from the bed you were once relaxed in. "Good you're awake, you would have been useless to me dead," the mask man responsible for the position you are in at the moment spoke, calmly flipping a page from the book he purchased from you. The High Priest stayed by your side as you slept for the day, watching as you slept soundly while he wished the pillow you held was him. He made sure to put the guard that knocked you hard in the dungeon, he asked for them to knock you unconscious, not harm you.

 Zane didn't bother looking up at you as you slowly began to get off of the soft bed. “Hey, I’m sorry we must have gotten off on the wrong foot, I didn’t mean to offend you especially with that jok-” Zane raised his hand as a way to silence you. Your voice was laced with fear, a nice way to boost this powerful man’s already huge ego. “ Please, I am not easily wounded with jokes about myself, I am aware of the rumor said about me,” he spoke nonchalantly but also with power, still not looking up from his book. “Besides, my goal is to have you alive, you have knowledge.” 

“Believe me High Priest, I have nothing of use to you, I have never left Phoenix drop–”

“It's no use lying to me,” the masked man finally looked at you, his ice cold gaze can drive anyone to the deep end, “ You are originally from Pikoro village, traveled with your father who was a traveling merchant. Your mother dying from a mysterious illness leaving your father having to take care of you when you were the age of ten; soon he succumbed to the same illness as your mother. Later you found Phoenix Drop and have been there for about five years.”

After knocking you out, Zane took it upon himself to ask about you before his departure from the village. He was lucky that Phoenix Drop was pathetically trusting, and also lucky that farmer Brandon didn’t know how to shut up. If he wasn’t looking for information he would have had that man killed. Zane stood up from the comfort of the chair and towered over you, he stood as if he was proud about all the information he memorized about you. His eye looked back and forth to yours, trying to decipher your reaction. He was trying to see if you were proud of him, he was actually looking for your approval.

Your mouth hanged open in shock, soon your face distorted into disgust. “ Oh…wow… that’s actually very disturbing.”

Zane’s confidence was immediately crushed. Him? Disturbing? The guard must have hit you harder than he thought. He kept a mental note for that guard to get lashes as he is finished talking with you. “It’s called being informed,” the High Priest shut his book, causing you to jump at the sudden noise. “Now I will not tolerate any lying, I’ll let this one slide because you are slow as well as me having a certain…liking towards you.” He hesitated on the last of his words but non the less stayed standing and settled his book down on the desk next to the bed.  

Before you even got the chance to say anything about his confession Zane continued on, “That being said, don’t even think about using that knowledge against me, even if it would hurt me, I would have to punish you.” Zane held his hand out, causing you to walk back, your wide eyed expression caused him to stop. His hand turned into a fist and he walked out of the room with a slam of the door.

So many questions ran through your mind, especially the main one. Why me? You knew that Zane was serious about what he said, even if he does have some…romantic feelings towards you, you are not immune to his cruelty. “First, to find a way out, if it has been a day or a few that means we aren't far away. We can’t possibly be in O’khasis.”

Opening the door with a creak, the hallways were strangely empty with multiple doors. “An inn? “I’ve never been in an inn with fancy bedding,” continuing down the hall you notice fancy works of art on the walls, most with Lady Irene. Going down the staircase, the front desk was vacant, if there wasn’t a fancy room, you would have thought that this was abandoned. 

This was too easy. You looked through the curtained windows and saw O’khasis guards standing post in front of the building. Moving to the back, more guards. At every exit it seemed there were guards. “Great, this means I must take things into my own hands…Perfect just great,” you started patting yourself to see if they took your knife and they did even the one in your boot, “My Irene he thought of everything.” Sighing, you started to see if there was anything heavy you can at least knock them unconscious or start some ruckus. The nearest thing was a chair, it looked ancient, calling for you to take it out of its misery. “Worth a shot, as long as I can get as far as I can to know where I’m at.” 

With the backdoor being locked, you broke it off and pushed your way out and didn’t think twice and swang without looking. The guard fell to the ground with a thud.

 “Wow.. That easy? I feel insulted,” making sure the guard was unconscious, you started to loot him to see if he would have at least any money on him. “Score! This would last me for a damn good while!”

“IT CAME FROM OVER HERE!”

Crap. Running as fast as you could, you took notice of the village and realized that this was Meteli. Thank Irene I’m not that far from Phoenix Dop! 

Hearing the guards gaining speed, you decided to hide in the woods and waited for them to pass you. After a while, you continued to run towards the docks, hoping you remembered the way. Thanking yourself for staying in Meteli for a year or else you would’ve gotten lost. It was a nice town, besides the crazy chicken Shaman that was near. The trees guided the path as if nature was cheering you on. Seeing the glistening water, you laughed. Your breath was already getting ragged, legs yelling at you to stop, the side of your ribs felt like knives were poking at you. That couldn’t  stop you, it was there right there.

A boat was already there, wasn’t this such a lucky day. The grin that had just started to take place soon faded as you made eye contact with a certain piercing blue eye. Stopping where you were, you took deep breaths and glared at him. 

Zane knew blood was on his hands that he'd never be able to wash off. He glared at his darling, if you wanted to play cat and mouse. He would. There was nowhere for you to run and you knew that. He looked as you started to get surrounded. Zane nodded at his guards to obtain you. He ignored your cries and how you started thrashing at his guards as he got closer to you, face to face. 

“ I warned you–” Silence. Wet saliva slid down his face. He couldn’t believe it, you actually spat on his face. He started laughing while wiping away the spit. Your eyes were filled with fiery, face with a sly smirk. Zane couldn’t help but love that expression, that is for him, only for him. The hatred you have for him, the passion. 

“Guards, throw her into the dungeon on the ship, I think my pet got too comfortable.”