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eluxcastar · 2 years

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Urd as a yandere (remake)

── ୨୧：urd geales x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: many people have left urd over the years, all with the single common thread that he was unable to stop them whether through his weakness or simply circumstance, time, motive. why allow them the opportunity at all?

୨୧﹑genre :: angst

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, yandere, implied kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, themes of abuse, suicide ideation, stockholm syndrome, descriptions of violence, implied dubcon, urd is in no universe all there, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k

aaa the trap of remastering my old posts. I rather liked the idea behind this one so I thought it would be the perfect candidate for a rewrite.

this entire thing is basically that one edited sound of mary on a cross like "you scare me" but you have been fed urd nation (*￣︶￣)

original

you think by now you would have memorised the sound of his footsteps, and for the most part you can tell when he's near. You always know. He has a very strict rule on this room, you've overheard it several times from the whispered just outside. He has forbidden all entry under any circumstances, and nobody dares stand against him.

you used to claw at the door, at the gap where the light of the hall cracks though, look around the room for any sign of something you could use to try to pry the door open by chipping away at the deadbolt. When that didn't appear to have any affect you turned to the keyhole, which didn't want to budge either. You're caught in what he views as an escape attempt, as the door handle clicks with the sound of the lock, and you scurry back just too little too late.

he yanks you harshly up from the floor by your arm, which feels like it's under so much pressure he'll break it—he's furious and you can tell. It's like taking a bullet to see someone you used to love so helplessly grow so utterly bitter, so hateful towards you. To throw you at the bed he keeps you confined in and has already stained red with your blood. You used to be built up by him, and now he begins the process of breaking you down. Every piece of your sanity is tested over and over and over again until you shy away in fear like a little child, only to be touched by the hand of the monster that keeps you.

while your sanity is being tested, you suspect that his is far gone. No sane person can pull you so gently back to thinking you are safe, whispering and shushing you until your heartbeat evens out as much as your adrenaline rush will allow, only to have the sound of your heartbeat replaced by a sickening crack as he breaks the metacarpal bone of one your fingers cleanly in half at the body.

you can't help how violently you flinch as he takes the hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing it gently, though not gently enough as you make a noise half like a cry but reminiscent of a scream. "You're only on your first strike, so the pain is all over now." the whisper of those words is far from reassuring.

the shaking of your whole body is uncontrollable, so racked with a feeling you can't even describe anymore that keeping your hand steady while he tends to your little broken bone so pathetic it will take several weeks to heal. You sit in his lap, he makes you. You have to let him hold your hand, and wrap your finger up securely where it will heal in due time. You can't help shifting uncomfortably, even when he makes a remark about how he's so glad you're letting him help.

it makes you feel so sick to your stomach you deny his attempts to feed you later that evening, turning your head away in an act of stark defiance. You won't allow him anymore gratitude out of his own disturbed actions.

you realise quickly why specifically he broke the finger he did—the ring finger on your dominant hand—all tracks would need to be performed in some way involving that finger even minimally. It hurts when you move it, it hurts when you eat because of the pressure applied to it even by a spoon, it hurts when you try to pick up your little instrument again and place it back where you found it, utterly defeated.

it hurts you to curl back into your ball, lost and falling apart, and you begin to wonder if escape is possible. How could you and your frail and ailing little body ever make it last a confrontation with a monster, able to hear your every move and know your very whereabouts with only his senses. You don't even know how you got to this point, rocking yourself to the tune of an old nursery rhyme you used to hear a lot wishing for your innocent back, the ignorance and bliss that you lost, the freedom—you are a little bird in a cage, a wolf sleeping just outside.

in order for you to be what he envisions you have to lose your vision of you, stripped of everything in your life that brought you joy in order to be the source of someone else's sick perversion of happiness.

you incur a second wrath is after a stint of good behaviour, a direct result of having no chance of getting away when one of your fingers is broken. Still, he rewards you with things he much consider privileges, allowing you to leave your room under his careful supervision for what started as a mere hour, but you have since managed to extend that time to something more like 'whenever he remembers to take you back'. He doesn't watch the clock.

you made the mistake of opening a window while he had stepped out of the room, feeling it was getting stuffy and you would like a small moment of nothing clean fresh air filling your lungs and refreshing your body after you had spent so long inside. He didn't snap so quickly, but the jolt of being yanked away from the barely open window you were making no attempt to get out of startled you to your core, another rush of adrenaline so strong it made your spine tingle.

you try, oh you try so desperately but you are still a little bird in the arms of your greatest predators. Thrashing doesn't help, and yet you thrash until he holds you so tightly against him you physically can't move anymore. "No, no! I didn't-- I wasn't trying to get out! I swear I just wanted fresh air! I was--" he only covers your mouth in response.

he sighs, something you can't quite read, but then he eases the grip he has on you. "Are you so unhappy with me you would kill yourself to escape?"

you realise in that very moment you would have to say things you can't even stand to think, things you never want to think. "No, no. No I'm very…" you hold back the grimace you want to show, "…happy." You touch a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb in your singular act of a sick affection. For the first time, you manage to keep him from punishing you.

you think if you have to stare at one more wall or ceiling blank with nothing but wood panels or old wallpaper you'll start to lose your mind, and so you begin to make yourself comfortable by the window inch by inch until he allows it with a growing trust in you thanks to the routine you've come to figure out over the past days, a way to keep yourself safe.

wait patiently in the morning when he comes to see you before work. Then, beg to come with him while you hold onto whatever part of him is closest with your good hand, even if that would be his coat. He lets you go with him if he's not going out, and these days he's starting to ask you, and only brushes you off if you can't. When you show interest in spending time with him he doesn't punish you for the circumstances outside of your control.

if you can't get out, go back to sleep and wait until he returns. He'll usually be angry due to the pent up frustration he has a bad habit of building from keeping all his emotions in, even as the people around him become insufferable. He may come to your door, but it's not uncommon that he goes straight back to work. If he's at your door, talk to him gently like you always used to.

on good days, you can get out, so you follow behind him like an obedient dog until you get there. If you need to you've discovered he's quite easily distracted by a quick kiss on the cheek. All of these things of course awaken every ounce of disgust you have in you, something that still etches away at your sanity, still dwindling and dwindling. You haven't by any means come to term with the fact you're stuck here, and that there's no way to escape him even if you really were to squirm your way through the window and jump. A part of you wonders what he'd do though; is he so obsessed with you that he'd nurse you back to health? Or maybe he'd just turn you into a Vampire so you'd be tied to him for eternity. Suffice it to say you don't have much in the way of intentions of jumping out of the window, so you resign yourself to sit quietly and watch.

he doesn't bother you there, not unless he wants to see how your broken fingers are healing, counting one then two and then a third on your other hand, finally you see a fourth. Was that how many times you'd been held down? When you try to think back to it, only the memories of the first time come back to you, and yet you can see right in front of your face the four dark bruises across both of your hands to prove it did happen. It doesn't hurt as much to feel him place a kiss on one of your fingers, just as he had after the first time he broke one, as if trying in vain to nurse you back to health with perhaps what he viewed as a true love's kiss, a little fairytale fantasy plot that wouldn't be coming true to please him.

you let him believe it, that you don't care anymore how much he puts his hands all over you, that you're grateful for him taking small amounts of time from his day as he lets his affections grow bolder. You try not to let your discomfort show every time he oversteps. You just…kill every emotion that isn't shallow happiness, and it comes from a place of relief that even as you lay in his bed the most violated you've ever felt by his fangs, he's not hurting you physically.

you think you might break down any day now, cry and scream for human contact, for affection that doesn't make you taste bile in the back of your throat, for freedom and a chance to do something without having to ask your own captor for it like you're his doting lover. You shouldn't have thought about that while he was home, not where he would hear you on the one day you had decided you were going to deny his advances and say you were too tired from a restless night. To your surprise, his first instinct was to tuck you back into bed and kiss your forehead, not to lash out at you.

it couldn't have been more than an hour before you lost any semblance of composure you had carefully gathered and we're moulding yourself to embody, to become everything he wanted of you just to protect yourself. You're beginning to realise careful planning and emotional control can't shake your emotions completely, and you've bottled them so tightly inside they all come gushing out at once as you sob into your pillow in a singular moment of utter defeat, the beginning of your bitter end.

that was the first time you allowed him your body without too much of a fight, and the first time he wouldn't give in to your initial defiance as he coaxed you back to comfort and lulled you into a sense of overwhelming safety and protection.

a piece of you may have died in that room that day, never to return again.

you body is…bruised, but not broken. You begin to see the remnants of care in him, how gentle he was, the fact he's given you so much leniency for a kidnapper— you quickly shake it away to remind yourself to hate this man for everything he's done to you, the mental torment you have to go through in order to justify the things he does to you. You can barely bring yourself to get out of bed, even if you stopped fighting him and gave in you can't shake the feeling of guilt, like you were enjoying the fact that you just got to feel like you weren't being held captive for a little while. Somehow you got yourself into thinking about it like a fun and innocent tryst, something that embodied the way you used to be when you snuck around together and just laughed at all the things you did.

you used to be young and innocent, filled to the brim with all your ignorance and bliss to the way he thought of you, that he could've been fantasising the way you would be as his lover, and eventually all of the things he would do to you once he had you one way or the other. It's all gone, everything is gone. The people in your life and the rest of the world moved one without you, you have been stripped away of everything you ever held dear, then stripped of the very things that made your self. He has finally taken everything from you, and it was all replaced with nothing but him.

his lies, his habits, his schedule, his routine, his preferences, his wants and his needs and his fantasies are all burned into your brain like a scar you'll never be able to get rid of, only cover up and hide from the world, always knowing it's there. Everything you ever loved is disappearing day by day, and you can't remember or even imagine your life before, what it would be like to finally curl up in your own bed, relish in the smell of your own home and in the things that used to be yours, keepsakes and memories that belong to that house all covered in dust by now.

you will never feel loved by another human again, and even if you manage to escape him, you are far too broken to be loved. You can't picture a peaceful life in your mind where you're not constantly afraid, where you are finally experiencing love in its purest form, but the more you try to fantasise such a life the one you're living currently nestled itself in the back of your mind, and it makes you wonder the more you think about it—about love. What he's doing…could that be love in its purest form like you think you want? You think about the purest form of love, his attention is all on you, his claims of never being able to love another, a man you thought you respected reduced to a quivering pile of anxieties about you leaving him, so his unadulterated love makes him capture you. Being the object of affections you so desperately crave is exactly what you receive, gentle and loving, and only when you have acted to squander his love have you felt the wrath of it.

if you want a love so pure, you have someone devoting their everything to you right outside that door, because for as much as he has entangled you in his world, he is completely captured in yours…yes, this is the pure love you want in this world. The love of a man who fights even you just for one more chance to prove he can love you, the love of someone who chases and never stops. People always say you have to make some sacrifices in love, and compromise on things.

you take the pillow you had come to find comfort in, and after days you finally come out of hiding. The hallway you step into dark with only the faint light from under one of the doors to guide you to where you want to go, to the room you had become acquainted with a few times before. This room where he waits for you in the times he would've spent with you, sensing you needed space.

it's like a dream to hear the door open, and to look up to see you close the door behind you, pillow under your arm as you make your way over and place it down on the other side of the bed before you crawl in, snug under the comfort of his sheets. His whole house smells like him, but his bed unimaginably so, or perhaps that's just him on the other side of it as he rolls over to take you in his arms and let you find a comfortable spot. It feels surreal to be here like this, feeling the warmth of love just like you wanted, from the person you had denied it from due to your own stubborn conscience.

you feel a little silly, but hearing him whisper that he always knew you'd come back when you were ready before he kisses your forehead and wishes you pleasant dreams eases that feeling into comfort, and in the wake of your breakdown you feel safe again.

#✦ — scenarios.#mm tasty remake #served hot and fresh #sorry 💀#owari no seraph manga #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #sote #urd #urd geales #urd x reader #urd geales x reader #owari no seraph x reader #seraph of the end x reader

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gotmilk5101520 · 3 years

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Trollhunters: Tales of Arcadia Watch Episode 15 Mudslinging

“The term "mudslinging" means to direct unjust insults and accusations with the intention of damaging the reputation of an opponent” Ah, so it’s what Donald Trump does everyday.

Hey, isn’t this the place in the opening where Jim and the others were standing and posing all badass and Claire jumps on that crystal like she’s Super Mario? Or like she jumped J- Never mind.

“Gunmar the Vicious”

“Gunmar the Skullcrusher”

“Gunmar!” Couldn’t they make a silhouette of Gunmar instead of showing part of his face?”

“Ow!” Bedhead Jim.

Mood.

“Give me an A!’ “A!”

“Give me an R!” “R!”

“Give me a C!” “C!”

“This is taking way too long”

“Give me an adia!” “Eh”

“What’s that spell?”

That spells Arc-adia.

“And his eye is glowing”

“And then, the dream just keeps reminding me that i’m completely way out of my league”

“Right?”

“Tobes”

“Who is that masked mole? You ever wonder?”

“You didn’t hear a word i said just then, did you?”

“Sure, i did”

“You had no problems sneaking into the Darklands when it was to save Claire’s brother, but now that Kanjigar says you’ve got to face Gunmar, you’re having nightmares about him and are freaking out that’ you’re way out of your league”

“I can multi-task, Jimbo” I can multi-task too. I can multi-task between ships.

“It’s Bill Erinstein“

“Bill moved to Wisconsin. This is someone else’s artistry”

“Someone with feminine wiles”

“What? What feminine wiles?”

“How do you even know that it’s a girl under there?”

“Uh, trust me, dude. I know woman, and that is all woman under there”

Toby is a furry confirm.

Get someone, who would look lovingly at you from across the stands like they’re Marinette and Adrien, like how Jim and Claire look lovingly at each other from across the stands like they’re Marinette and Adrien.

“Eli Pepperjack!”

“I have friends!” “No you don’t!” Then why is he a nominee if doesn’t have friends?

“Now that the play’s over, you can focus on your training full time”

“And finally, Jim Lake Junior!”

“What?” Because we need to replace the Romeo and Juliet sub plot with something to make everything harder for you.

“Our nominees will compete in a series of challenges to win your vote”

“Each nominee will propose a theme for the dance”

“I like disco!”

“I’ve got to boogie!”

“That is all” And no one did disco.

“Besides, there’s no way to kill Gunmar”

“He’s invincible”

“No, he’s not!”

“So far as we know”

“What do you know?” Okay, Mulan’s Ghost Family.

“Jim”

“Did you see my father?”

“I did”

“Did he speak of me?”

“Yeah. He wished the Soothscryer could let you in”

“But, you know, the rules are the rules”

“It’s all right, Trollhunter”

“You don’t have to lie to protect my feelings” *Cries in Troll*

“How long’s he been like this?”

“Long time”

“Maybe you should switch to decaf” Can trolls drink coffee, and like it, like ghouls in Tokyo Ghoul?

“This is the last surviving copy of his work!”

“This is the key!”

“And i’m going to burn”

*Gasp in Troll*

“Burn, baby, burn!” Yep, Blinky is the crazy one.

It was too quiet.

“This village....”

“It’s called Arcadia Oaks” “It’s on fire?” Well, it is in California.

“In this town, there is a boy”

“And this boy fancies a girl”

“A girl whose brother is being held in the Darklands”

“If the boy saves the child from the changeling nursery, he’ll want to save them all”

“And it’s my job to watch over my half-breed brethren and not let that happen” And said half-breed brethren don’t care and payed the price for not caring.

“But how could a fleshbag even contemplate such a feat?”

“This boy is the Trollhunter”

“It’s a long story. Just watch the first 13 episodes to be caught up”

“You’re afraid of a fleshbag child”

“I am not. He just shows up in my dreams as of late. Then again, his mother also shows up in my dreams too. Which is when he shows up”

“I have my own fears” “Like what?” “I fear a girl taking my staff” “Why would you be afraid of a girl taking your staff? What could she do with it? And why a girl?”

“I’m back, bitches”

“Mom, could you-?”

“Claire, could you change your baby brother’s diaper, please?”

“He’s not a baby”

“And he’s not my brother” Claire’s just about this close to tossing his ass out the window.

“This isn’t fair”

“It’s no day at the beach for me either, love bug”

“I can’t believe i have to pretend you’re my brother”

“It’s... It’s cruel”

“What’s this? Don’t... Don’t do that, seriously. Please don’t cry”

“Forget the jo-jos. Just a plain burger”

“Enrique...”

“I get it. You miss your brother”

“But i assure you, he’s perfectly fine”

“He’s trapped in the Darklands”

”How can that be fine?”

“I’ll show ya”

That’s gross. And Claire’s seen The Last Airbender and Dragon Ball Evolution and Netflix’s Winx Club and every live action remakes of Disney movies.

“Your brother is what’s known as my familiar”

“Changelings share a certain bond with them. It’s good for this little trick”

“Enrique...”

“Mi hermanito”

“I suppose this arrangement has been rather hard on you”

“I’m going to get you back”

“I’m going to find you”

“And i’ll bring you home”

*Cries in Troll again*

“Ah, Mr. Strickler” Wait, isn’t that- Oh, no.

“I hear Coach Lawrence was having a tizzy of a time teaching my class”

“Your class? Look, you can’t just drop off the face of the Earth and expect your job back”

“Actually, it’s not my job i’m here for”

“What is this?”

“WH- AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!’ So, what happens when someone gets caught by the Antramonstrum? Is it messy?

“And now, for my next trick...”

“The vanishing sock!”

“Mm! Tasty trick” It disappeared in Aaarrrgghh’s mouth.

“Hey, Mom. I’m home”

“Where have you been?”

“Just studying at the library with Claire and Tobes”

“The library closed three hours ago. Where have you been?”

“I don’t know, Mom. We took the long way home”

“I have been worried sick, and that’s the best lie you can come up with?”

“Okay, sorry! Call off the search parties!”

“I’m obviously home!”

This part is really sad and painful to watch. And the fact we don’t go in the house to see, but instead, watch from the outside and see through the windows. That’s why there were scenes with Claire and NotEnrique, and with Toby and Aaarrrgghh. It showed how Toby and Aaarrrgghh are having fun with magic trick. While Claire and NotEnrique are starting to bond for real. But here? Jim and his mom? It shows how they are being torn apart cause of Jim’s secret.

“Jim, this is what you’re wearing?”

“I wear this every day, Tobes. What else would i be wearing?” See? Jim understands he’s in a cartoon, so he has to wear the same thing everyday.

Wait you can that with the Shadow Staff? Damn Claire, you’ve been holding back.

“Where am i supposed to find a costume?”

“And what am i suppose to be?”

“Ladybug? Chat Noir?”

“Why do i care about this so much?” Mood.

“Let’s take a blast to the past!”

“Back to ancient times!”

“The 1980s!” Just forget Ronald Reagan exists.

“Okay, if you’re gonna play dirty-” Good one Jimbo.

Goal!

“Oh, no! The costume!”

Oooh. Right in the mud.

“Okay, this is gonna work”

“Oh, my gosh! It worked!” Is Toby secretly a wizard that we don’t know about?

“Here to present his theme”

“Mole Mania!”

This is gonna be like that random girl from Drake and Josh that runs up to them giggling and runs off and Drake and Josh asks “Who is she?”

“There has been a sudden departure”

“I have heard word the Principal Levit has taken an indefinite leave of absence”

“We wish him well” Yeah. “Well” in a fart cloud’s stomach.

“But he sent an e-mail recommending an interim replacement”

“Which we all support”

“Please welcome Principal Strickler!”

“Yeah! Whoo-hoo!”

“What is he doing here?”

“I thought you said he would be a fool to ever come back”

“I’m very glad to be back and excited to get started”

“But let it be known”

“With me in charge, things are going to change. From here on out, teachers can date a students parent. So long as the parent is single” “Why that son of a-” “Steve! I’m going to be your new father!” “NO!”

This episode was done dirty! Right i’ll show myself out.

Roaming Fees are the results of capitalism.

#trollhunters #milk watches trollhunters #tales of arcadia

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