Insomnia @insomnianchild - Tumblr Blog

CHARACTER OUTLINE .

FULL NAME : Micah Hortus

NICKNAMES : Zealot, several by Reno I can’t all recall

FLAWS .

STRENGTHS .

SKILLS AND HOBBIES .

TAGGED BY: @meldaciomartyr

TAGGING: :]

#:]#here we go

green-dehaan

“Harry, what did you do?” “What you made me do.”

#.fc

punkfairyinthewoods

Dane Dehaan in Kill Your Darlings <3

#.fc

froddo-baggins

Dane Dehaan in HBO’s In Treatment (2010)

as Jesse D’amato.

#.fc

hallwayicons

like if you save.

#.fc

demon-eye-gifs

Dane DeHaan - Demon Edit

insomnianchild

@pelnaxkhara

#.fc #:]#perfect

❛ cook . present my muse with home-cooked food.

Micah knew the word people used for someone like her: angel.

So that was what he would call her. Angel.

She was kind. She was caring. She smiled brightly. She walked with a skip to her steps. She took him in when no one else would.

His pale eyes had watched her every move ever since she had stumbled into him – and invited him for a meal. Which now was presented right in front of him. Looking at the swirling steam coming from the stew, Micah then briefly looked over to her again.

She had a bowl, too. That was good. That meant there likely was no poison.

Likely.

But would an angel do that?

Well, if she wanted to bring him to the Gods sooner… why not?

The smile that was building on his face crept there slowly. Before he simply dipped two fingers n the hot stew, calmly, silently. And then licked what had clung to his skin from them. Never breaking eye-contact or the smile for even a second.

“Excellent.”

@holyguardian

#holyguardian #:]#good luck

dreammetheworld

Dane DeHaan as Jesse D'Amato [In Treatment, 2010]

I used to spend hours when I was a kid just looking in the mirror trying to figure out if I was handsome or not. And what did you decide? Well, it just depended on the day. If someone told me I was handsome, then I was handsome. And if someone told me I was ugly, then I believed that. I hardly ever look in the mirror anymore, though, not if I can help it. It’s just too stressful.

#.fc

ohisms

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 & 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (a series of nonverbal prompts . mature themes present , ‘ my ’ muse belongs to the one who posted the meme - send “ + REVERSE ” to reverse the prompts .)

→ 𝐈 . GENERAL

❛ hush . raise a finger in a gesture to silence my muse . ❛ sit . gesture for my muse to sit down . ❛ door . hold a door open for my muse . ❛ tap . tap my muse on the shoulder to garner their attention . ❛ hunger . give my muse something to eat / drink . ❛ cook . present my muse with home - cooked food . ❛ brush . work a brush / comb through my muse’s hair . ❛ read . silently read a book alongside my muse . ❛ hand . hold out a hand for my muse to take . ❛ dressed . help my muse put on an article of clothing . ❛ note . give my muse a note saying : [ content ] . ❛ amplify . turn up the music in the car .

→ 𝐈𝐈 . ANGST

❛ patch . help my muse patch up a wound . ❛ night terrors . hold my muse after they wake up from a nightmare . ❛ company . silently sit with my muse to comfort them. ❛ hospital . my muse is told that yours is in the hospital . ❛ revelation . show my muse evidence of a lie they told . ❛ indulge . find my muse drinking to cope . ❛ downfall . find my muse collapsed on the ground . ❛ console . comfort my muse as they cry . ❛ nurse . give my muse company in the hospital .

→ 𝐈𝐈 . AFFECTIONATE

❛ wink . wink at my muse . ❛ wrap . wrap an arm around my muse’s [ shoulders / waist ] . ❛ caress . gently caress my muse’s face . ❛ tousle . mess playfully with my muse’s hair . ❛ chest . place your head on my muse’s chest . ❛ comb . comb fingers through my muse’s hair . ❛ grasp . run to my muse & jump into their arms . ❛ lean . lean on my muse’s shoulder . ❛ tender . kiss my muse on the [ forehead / cheek / nose ] . ❛ abrupt . kiss my muse out of the blue . ❛ chaste . chastely kiss my muse . ❛ good morning . kiss my muse the morning after . ❛ volumes . gaze at my muse in a way that silently says ‘i love you’ .

→ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . VIOLENT

❛ strike . [ slap / punch ] my muse in the face . ❛ gun . wield a gun at my muse . ❛ twist . twist my muse’s arm behind their back . ❛ throttle . aggressively wrap your hands around my muse’s throat . ❛ parch . burn my muse with a hot object . ❛ take down . forcefully bring my muse to the ground . ❛ gouge . wield a sharp object at my muse . ❛ shunt . shove my muse backwards . ❛ stickup . yell at my muse to put their hands in the air. ❛ shoot . [ fatally / non-fatally ] shoot my muse . ❛ stab . stab my muse with a [ knife / other object ].

→ 𝐈𝐕 . NSFW

❛ surprise . send an unexpected nsfw image to my muse . ❛ pin . push my muse against a [ wall, table, other ] . ❛ go down . go down on my muse . ❛ choke . intimately wrap your hands around my muse’s throat . ❛ belt loops . pull my muse closer by their belt loops . ❛ skinny dipping . go skinny dipping with my muse . ❛ rip . tear a piece of clothing from my muse’s body . ❛ mark . leave a mark on my muse’s body [ specify where ] .

#.meme

levirtu

Visit Original Link

apparat - goodbye

#.music

louisa-d

Dane DeHaan ;

♥ … 0<ㅡ<

#.fc

pelnaxkhara:

‘ because i’ve seen what it does to people! ’ the sound of his own raised voice bouncing back off the walls caught pelna off-guard, but he’d already started to cross the proverbial river - the middle was where the current was strongest - it would take just as much effort to back out of this now as it would to continue.

if he backed out, then it’d be another struggle to put the lid back on this box and bury it again.

‘ i’ve seen it tear a person apart! man, woman, elderly, child - it doesn’t care. it’s indiscriminate and eats them from the inside out. ’ he wouldn’t take a step forward, he wasn’t that stupid, even with anger hot in his cheeks, pelna settled for casting a hand back towards the door and the outpost that lay outside it.

‘ you don’t think i know that this world is fucked? i know damn well it is, but i’ll keep choosing hope over despair every day that i can. because at some stage this has to give … everyone who’s suffered so far, it has to be for somethi— ’

cutting himself off mid-sentence, pelna felt something click into place. the scourge was terminal. it couldn’t be healed. not by traditional medical means. not by kimya’s brews and potions, not even by the magic of the glaives and astrals. the only magic capable of curing it was that of the oracle’s and she was dead.

staying where he sat on the floor, the glaive held out his hand, brows furrowed in confusion as he questioned his own logic, a green glow emanating from his palm as he cast a healing spell … logic would dictate that the burns on micah’s arm wouldn’t heal, not if he was infected with the scourge. the scourge itself negated healing of any sort.

but the raw burns lost their redness, seared edges slowly softening and edging inwards as the flesh knitted itself back together … lowering his hand when the last of the burns on micah’s arm faded to a slight pink mark, pelna had to set his hand to the floor to ground himself - this didn’t make sense. but … it did, too? maybe?

‘ you’re not infected … you carry it, but you’re immune. ’

Micah let Pelna have his outburst. He just sat there, smiling. Leaned against the bars, hands still holding onto them. Indulging in what was happening here. Because there it was… a soft realization setting in. So gentle and slowly… and yet it blew Pelna away.

Glancing to the healing wound, Micah grinned before letting his fingers wander over what was left of it. Letting his head roll back and taking a deep breath, relieved from his pain… before letting his head drop towards the Glaive again.

Finally this little bastard had come to a conclusion. In different words than Micah would have used… but it meant the same. And it must shatter this man’s world. He wasn’t so stupid after all… at least he was the only one who had figured it out. Would they believe him? Would they want proof? Or would that scare them?

Probably all of it…

Fixing the other with a smirk before opening his arms, Micah indulged in this moment.

“Now you see it… I am your Messiah – and you plan to execute me. Ironic, is it not?”

#pelnaxkhara #that's faster than me

#.music #sounds so happy - fkd up ly.rics #I was a really big fan of this until I finally read up the lyrics and bg :]#now it's creepy

luciancityguard:

Watching as Micah pressed himself up against the bars, Petra kept his long arm outstretched and the small flame danced in the breeze of their breath in the small hut. It cast long shadows on the wooden walls, painting strange shapes that reminded him of his parents telling stories of the Old Wall as his young self fell asleep. If only that little boy had know what lay in store.

“How? From whom? Hmmm, now that’s a strange one.” Petra mulled to himself, frowning at the inflection before he snapped his fingers again and dismissed the little flame. He was getting better at that; countless blisters made you avoid getting it wrong. Though he was still a complete novice at these new abilities. But that wasn’t what had his attention now. “Whom … you speak like someone who went through a good education. Elocution and grammar lessons; same curriculum I had. You’re from the area close to the Citadel, where we all attended private academies.”

That was the familiarity that struck Petra most; Micah could have been any of the boys at the private school he attended - he spoke in the same manner. Hell, he’d wager a bet this man came from a family far more educated and wealthy than his own. Not that even Micah could remember them now.

“I have these powers because someone thinks I can serve better using them.” Another click of his fingers and there was a flame again, larger and more lively than the last. Petra stared through it at the caged man. “You need to start giving answers first Micah. What is the purpose of Sanctuary. Why haven’t your people come for you?”

There at was again. This asshole was hanging this little tidbit of information over his head… and Micah knew he didn’t have it. He didn’t know his former life. He couldn’t. He had no idea. He did know exactly as little as Micah knew. There was nothing before the temple. Nothing. Who cared anyway? The temple had been his home. His family. They had been right. Right about assholes like Petra, too.

Baring his teeth, Micah#s frustration at this was visible, though. His left hand raising to harshly hit against the bars of his cell as if he could make Petra stop talking with this.

He was mocking him. He was humiliating him.

And somehow he had the Royal’s blessings now. Micah was sure he hadn’t had those powers the last time. So what had happened? The guard’s answer was a non-answer. But would he actually geta real answer of whom had given him these abilities if Micah answered his questions?

Well…

“Sanctuary is a community. What fucking purpose do you think it has? Survival. Like yours. What purpose does Meldacio have, huh? Formouth? Lestallum? You think Sanctuary is different? Not that much. The only difference is that we see clearly while you tread around in the darkness blindly and trust some old fools who have no idea what is happening. And my people don’t come for me because I told them not to come. Because I knew you psychopaths would likely take them captive, like you did to me. And then murder them, like you plan doing to me. I wouldn’t lead my people to monsters like you.”

There was a slightly unhinged smile on his face now, creeping broader as he licked his lisp as if he was somewhat proud of sharing that with Petra.

“Your turn with proper answers.”

#luciancityguard

data-reel

Chronicle - (2012) dir. Josh Trank

#.fc

luciancityguard:

“I don’t have a clean conscience.” The words were quiet and they surprised even him. Sitting on the cracked timber floor and his mind could transmit the shadows of the people he had lost. Colleagues, comrades, friends, his parents, his sister’s husband; so many nameless city inhabitants. Those were the things that crept up from his memory in the dead of night just to remind him he wasn’t innocent.

The dark blaming hands that tried to grab him and bring him down into their depths of accusation and despair.

“I don’t know why I came here. No one else who has spoke to you has come away unscathed or with an answer.” Logically he would scoff at anyone who came here to converse with Micah and expect a sane answer. But here he was, finger brushing over the scar again. He had been slow on his reflexes that day, underestimated Micah before he was even aware the man was a threat.

The Tummelts weren’t ‘running’ around. Last he’d heard Reno was under lock and key and Loqi was grounded to Lestallum, and Sarah was secreted away in Formouth. Nyx though, that was a hell of a threat. Sitting there, Petra raised a hand up clicked his fingers, looking over them at Micah. “My daughter is safe. The Tummelts and Sarah are safe.” Nyx though.

“I’m leaving for Insomnia. So is Ulric.” Another click of his fingers and the once-guard frowned, gaze concentrating on his own fingers as he spoke. “I guess I came here to see what you’re really about. But I don’t think I asked the relevant questions. What was the temple for Micah? Why haven’t your Sanctuary come for you?” Petra didn’t click his fingers this time, but he let his gaze unfocus and move back onto Micah at the same time a flame ignited in the air above his cupped hand; he was still learning how to use these new abilities.

An explanation and solution for everyone. Everyone but Ulric. Micah registered that much.

What the former guard said then had his eyes narrowing to slits though. Going to Insomnia? He and Ulric? What kind of suicide mission was that?

Oh these pathetic fools.

“You will be a feast for the Daemons. Or my brothers and sisters.”

That was all he would say to him. Asking questions… he wanted answers? Why should he give them to him? Really? All he had heard from Petra were threats and insults. He didn’t owe him even one little coherent answer about Sanctuary or the temple.

Despite that unwillingness… there was a fog over most of these memories anyway. If he dug deeper and deeper… maybe those pictures would become clearer. But why should he? To appease-

Micah’s eyes focused on the sudden flame dancing on Petra’s hands and there was genuine surprise on his face. It took him a moment to understand. And yet… it didn’t make sense at all. Lurching forward he grabbed the bars, pressing his face against the as if he needed to be as close to the fire as possible.

“How do you do- you… you got the bloodline’s powers?”, he whispered, as the flames mirrored in his pale eyes. He looked almost greedy, as if he could absorb the magic and use it for himself. He was thinking. Trying to puzzle this together.

“The old king is dead… the new one? The prince? He vanished… I know that. I know that is why the night came… so how did you get those powers? From whom? … I will give you answers if you give me some, too.”

#luciancityguard

filmaticbby

In Treatment (2008-2010)

#.fc

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