NEPENTHE [★] writing dump

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★★★

characters: caleb norwood ( main ), nicholas neilson
triggers: brief mentions of past abuses, alcohol and drugs uses, deaths, violence, though they are all mentioned only once on [ number ] paragraph.
word count: to be added, currently wip.
summary: there are some countries that have the same date, while the rest are different, of what is known to be mother's day. with the fact that it is today for caleb, caleb struggles with a personal problem relating to the honorable day, and at work, nick notices the star god's troubled behavior before he pulls him over at a private area away from their organization work area and try to help him relax. of course, does it sadly leads up to a messy situation. though that's not going to stop nick from saving his soft boy.

[div style="0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%; color: black"][justify]The God of time and space woke up on his bed beside his blue haired partner, Rhys, at his son, across the hallway outside his room, shouting in sheer joy,

"Happy Mother's Day, Mommy!"

After the four words were locked in Caleb's mind, his heart nearly dropped at the realization on what today was. He didn't need it to be repeated to himself, he knew what it was. The concept behind it being today made him curled up into a ball and pulled the thin, cool blanket sheet over on his head. He inhaled deeply into them and smell the scents belonging to his partners. He allowed them to help let it release tension from his body it was grasping on to already, finding the blanket a comfort. Caleb didn't seem to care about who he was sleeping with while there was a small shake beside him, his mind absorbing through effort on what he was holding on to than his surrounding. Although his attention was cut into half and part of it was drawn on the constant shakings happening from the other body beside him, soft squeaks elicited beneath them in the mattress from the shiftings.

Caleb didn't say a single word and kept his breathing in. He figured Rhys woke up just after him from Timothy's call as well, and he was genuinely afraid his partner would see him awake also and make him come over to where Florence was with their son, he pretended he was still asleep and remained stiffly still in his position with his back facing towards the human mortal. The Sagittarius admitted it was highly rude of him to avoid watching his son while the child was expressing his honor to Florence, which the thought of it was absolutely adorable, but Caleb couldn't let the actual visualizing of the said scenario get to his head. He didn't want to, but he had to, unfortunately. To think deeply about Mother's Day meant he was willing to return the memories, ones he never wanted them to be brought back up in the first place anyway, over to him.

He felt the weight of the bed becoming lighter, and the God could then hear the gentle footsteps leaving out of earshot from where he was. He thought Rhys might had left the room already and finally, he began to breathe, nearly choking at the desperation he was pulling himself to get his lungs filled with oxygen already. Caleb knew he couldn't stay in his room and lay helplessly on his bed from now until the day was finished, but he needed a small moment to relax on his own before he could truly start kicking the day off by heading to the Catching Fallen Stars' work place, which indeed he still had to do his job today, despite Mother's Day was pretty much treated like a holiday of sort. Maybe if Timothy hadn't brought it up so loudly that he could hear from the other side where he was, he probably wouldn't be doing this right now. Otherwise the Korean-Irish man wouldn't be mad at him anyway ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â‚¬Â- in fact, he wasn't, oh no.

He was only... exhausted.

Caleb sighed, edges torn in sharp effort, and closed his eyes ( how long had they been opened? ). He rubbed them fiercely to soothe the aches and stings, before he gave a pathetic push on himself out of the bed. Thankfully, he managed to catch himself in time, otherwise he would've fall face down on the floor. Palms, full of burning stars and planets across, against wooden surface, he pushed upward and used his legs to support his effort, with God given strength setting deep into his bones, each of them were cracking melancholy within. He was considering on asking Valerius if he could take a day off and do the rest of his word and extras for today tomorrow instead. The Satyr knew ever little details about what happened last year on Mother's Day, so he should understand and let him go for one day only at least. Caleb gently walked over to the door before him. His hand was holding on to the doorknob, but he stopped himself and stood there for a moment.

He remembered not many of his friends does have a mother who were alive in the present, in a way either they were actually deceased, or they were still here, but their presence doesn't carry the same traits as before anymore or doesn't ever had their words and actions represent as a parental figure, or they were missing in their life since their birth or after a couple parts of it before they vanished, with or without reasons. Despite the unfortunate fact, regardless most of his friends were heading to the C.F.S. workplace, as the rest were yet to return from a mission outside the city, including Valerius, which he never got to meet his biological mother when she was killed from birthing him, and his stepmother was abusive to him. Caleb knew then it would be selfish of him to stay behind while everyone else was continuing to put their effort on their works as if Mother's Day didn't exist anyway.

( It was amusing how the God couldn't bare it the most, as it seemed... )

He eventually threw the thought aside and held on to hope no one would ask him about what he was planning to do for today, if that meant avoiding literally everyone at the workplace. but his parents, while he was focusing on some paperworks at his office.

With the plan settled in Caleb's celestial mind, he exited out from his room.

[align=center]***
Well, didn't the morning started off awkwardly.

The voices came nothing but continuous series of statics to his ears from Rhys, along with Timothy, when they both saw him at the kitchen alone and began to spoke to them in a quickened pace, while he was getting his simple breakfast; an apple juice with a sweet milk smeared toast.

Caleb didn't said much at the meantime, only did he respond to them with mainly brief nods and smiles. Frustration protruded in his mindset, and weariness overtook his person. Curled fingers tapping around a glass cup, half mindless, he then literally shoved an entire bread in his mouth and gave most of his attention on chewing it into smaller pieces, as the rest were yet on the others; sure, he was an asshole, but not completely.

He was surprised Rhys didn't seem to even barely grasp on a notice that with each couple of seconds goes by them, his auras was gradually shifting further away from his usual self and be covered by the dark clouds, trapping the thunders of his screams. Although at the same time, he shouldn't had been so when the blue-haired man sometimes had trouble reading other people's emotions, especially when he was enthusiastic over something. Even though he had a plan he made before he left his room, he didn't want to snap directly at him along with Timothy to leave him alone.

But it seemed to happen out of sudden and everything became in slow motion around the Sagittarius when he heard Rhys mentioning about how he was going to give his mother a surprise visit. The first thing Caleb realized was he instantly pushed himself in his seat away from the table before him, eliciting obnoxious screechings from the foot of his chair, which fully silenced both Rhys and Timothy in fear.

At one point, he felt like the entire suns collapsed underneath his breaths, with every existing stars exploded between his heartbeats, bitter bones rattling loudly, and fires lied between his starlight veins.

Caleb couldn't remember if he had said anything in return to his boyfriend, but what he did remember what happened next before he abandoned his leftovers and left the house was the last smile he had on his face, telling by his cheeks aching badly to express his bitterness (ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â‚¬Å“ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â‚¬Â a sight of what one could only describe it as tragedy ).

Thank to the Stars above, he had an ability to transport himself from one location to another. He hadn't learn how to drive a car yet, except he didn't want to. The struggling God could never trust himself handling in the wheel; he had fucked up many things in his life ( after all, he was born to breathe mistakes, and had his body decorated in stars with burning flaws ), and his incapability of muting the running thoughts inside of his head, he was afraid the fact would cost, not his own life, but rather someone else's if he were to be responsible of driving. For this case on the other hand, he didn't have to be sitting in a car beside Rhys, with their other partner, Florence, driving.

There was a machine positioned at a forest nearby a public park that could transport people over to where the C.F.S. workplace were located, and it was only a thirty minute drive, enough to plan ahead on what would they do for the day ( it could have been set right at their home, but there were some people who thought it was better if it would be placed somewhere that wasn't close to home, in case of the explosion given from the machine ), and Caleb wasn't willing to be in a thirty minute drive with someone who he just snapped at, and Florence would try to settle down the conflict going on between them, or whatever...

Caleb appeared across space just outside of the workplace. He wished he could had popped straight at his office instead, but it was mandatory to first sign in for the attendance before entering. Quivering hands shoved into his pockets, he started to pace himself towards the building's entrance. He saw two guards ahead and sending them a short nod in acknowledge, he then opened the door before him and exhaled deeply as the sudden, large waves of auras rushed into his veins upon his arrival. His mind buzzed, muting most of the sounds belonging to the people who were chatting to one to another or through their phones, and the constant clicking on the keyboards. The Korean-Irish male squeezed his brown eyes shut to help him concentrate on getting to his office as his top priority. His body jolted at what he thought he heard his surname being called over at the side and awkwardly approached closer to a young, black man who was sitting at one of the tables.

"Alex, good morning," softly greeted Caleb, flashing the attendant a smile. He was given a frown in return only and his smile disappeared. As if his sadness could get any lower than it was already. He glanced away from the other and stared down at the table surface, gaze hardened, and his stars behind fell dim.

"Where are your partners? Usually you're with them." The inquire was firmly painted with crimson shade of concern, rather than suspicious. Already were they dried to quickly express Alex's genuine worry for the Star God.

Caleb blinked his eyes once. Subconsciously, his jaw lowered at a slight motion, tilting his head aside, a rough exhale was made through the thick atmosphere. He could feel it reaching over to his throat in a formed pair of hands, and beginning to wrap them across. "They'll - they'll be coming soon." he nearly choked out a respond, lungs burning in hope for this suffering to be over with soon, "I... I just want to give myself an early start of the day." He thought of gagging from what tasted like plastic lies on his tongue before it rolled over his words to Alex. They left a foul sense on how much he just wanted the floor beneath him to swallow him whole.

Of course, Alex would bring the fact up relating to his partners.

"Alright," simply said the attendant.

"I'll let them know you have arrived."

The Sagittarius continued on gazing at the table, while mind was slow on catching Alex's words. Eventually, it was able to form a full sentence from what the other said, and his attention was instantly pulled back from the tension building inside of his body. He glanced at where the metal detectors were, which would lead to the main room of the building, then at the black man who nodded at him to confirm he could leave now. Caleb widened his eyes a bit in realization and nodded back to him in a quickened pace. He shakily mumbled a farewell and turned his heels over to walk across the metal detector that has little amount of people lining up. During the progress, he could hear Alex, behind him, saying,

"Oh, and Caleb, if you wish to speak about what's been bothering you lately, if you are, whenever you feel it's best, please come and speak to me or anyone who you trust the most."

What he said made the Star stopped on what he was doing and turned his head over to Alex. "Th-thank you," Brief and bare was all Caleb would offer to him before he passed through a metal detector and headed to the direction where it would take him to his office.

Finally.

Wip.

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: #000"][i]do not speak to me, for my ears bleeds from the ringing of betrayal

Crywolf

Posts:1,014

05-15-2017, 10:31 AM (This post was last modified: 05-22-2017, 11:05 AM by Crywolf.)

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★★★

characters: him or h̷̸̸̨͟i̷̴̡͏ḿ̴̷̢͞?
triggers: implied self harm along with suicidal thoughts, and uncertainty towards reality and oneself's existence
word count: 1,171
summary: a vent writing that has been written a month ago; reasons why he ( and i ) hate seeing reflections of himself ( and myself ). how there are times in life when he ( and i ) feel like he is ( and i am ) simply in a human vessel, but a fake, a something for god's play. to tell express terror of how miserable he truly is ( and i am also ) to the point he ( and i ) often mistake himself ( and myself ) as, not caleb ( and cae ), but h̷̸̸̨͟i̷̴̡͏ḿ̴̷̢͞. it hurts so much more to know one of them is not a fictional character ( or are they?... ).

[div style="0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%; color: black"][justify]“?ees uoy od ohw”

The inquire ran deep into his head, ringing, echoing, repeating; continuing so until he could no longer recognize the silence. Darkness surrounded his celestial body, but what felt like hands, invisible to his eyes, were wrapping his throat in scrawny fingers. His delicate skin could feel sharpness inserting into them, they were screaming in blood, a language he was far too familiar with; to see ruby reds spilling from his body, and to be able to smell them as it belonged to his, meant he was losing his fight —- how he let himself fall into despair ( but regardless, chanting prayers within such hope can’t help him in a situation like this now —-but when does it ever?).

Visions blurred in burning sensations with the tears rolling in his eyes, he choked, suddenly given a sense wrapped around his entire self then of him floating for few seconds until he returned to reality in his trembling feet.

He could still hear the question enveloping his mind.

‘Is this even a reality?’ He would think.

‘Am I even real?’

Sometimes he felt he was so, while rest of the times, he was positive he does not (certainty was the key to this point ). To be able to breathe, to have his heart beating, and to think and sense emotions, along with pain was… convincing enough to him he was real. But the biggest part to hold the best way to turn the table around into him believing he was not was a reflection of himself, in mirrors, in water bodies that he could see himself, in anything he could see himself; to be able see the madman himself known as Caleb John Norwood, formerly known as Caerolf, reflections was always persuasive to make his mind see him as a g̴̛lÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â̸t̵͘c̢h̷̡͜, a f̕҉ÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â k̸e͞҉͡—-h̷̸̸̨͟i̷̴̡͏ḿ̴̷̢͞...

Similar to shadows in some ways, he would see himself mocking him by following his movements and expressions, every single one of them, in ever little bits of details, to remind him through sharp sneers and disappointment of how he was still alive, but also, was he actually h͏̛͏̛ÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â©͘r̷̨e͜͡, or… was h̸̕ę̶̵͜͝?

“?ees ơ̧̕͢ų͟͟y̡̕͟͞͠od ÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â³̀͞͝h̶̴̀̀͟ẁ̸̨”

The same question, this time repeated in a louder volume, while it was becoming distorted with statics, than the ones in his head, knocked over his attention from his thoughts and blinked rapidly a couple of times, only to be met with a mirror of… him ( or was it h̷̸̸̨͟i̷̴̡͏ḿ̴̷̢͞? ); his whole frame was shaking violently in heavy sweats, brown eyes widened, cheeks stained in his tears as there were trails of him traveling until his chin, with his jaw slightly dropped and his hair was a bundle of mess, the most notable sight was his neck bleeding with some of his skins’ tanned colours dyeing into blue and purple, forming hideous bruises.

He blinked once, and so did he, and he did it again, and he did it too as he blinked —-who does he see, he would ask himself in his thought, who does he see, he then questioned out loud.

He heard a voice of himself, but does it belong to him, or does it actually belong to him? Was the voice belonged to him he heard in his head or the one from himself, or from him who was in the mirror? Was he the one who harmed him, or was he the one who harmed himself?

(He doesn’t know, and that was what made him afraid. )

His eyes flickered in confusion and distress, but he could see his eyes shown mockery —-or was he imagining things already?

“?̀͝e͡e̷s ́uÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â³y͝͞ ̢́ÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â³d̸ ̵̸ÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â³̷́hw̢”

The voice was getting more powerful ( if only it would be so much than enough to simply end his life in this Hell of the Void ), and he was starting to become lost on either he had said the phrase this time, or he did once more, as well.

He doesn’t know, but he was mocking him, and he only knew that.

He gritted his teeth, and a heated bullet to the glass from the gun’s trigger, he launched his fist forward towards the mirror as a thunderous shout escaped from him. One second in his skin making contact against the glass…

everything felt… wrong.

(t̶̀͜h̡̡͏͠͡ģ̶̷̸́i̧r̵̡͘tsuj tub. )

He could not explain these feelings he had, except how his fist was full of numbness now. But they began to spread to his arms and every other parts of his body, and when he opened his eyes to look at the shattered mirror, he could still see him, with the same position, and with the same emotions he carried, then he noticed a different feature; there were lines of cracks across the neck, traveling over to the forehead and there was a hole, a fitting shape of a bullet, in the center. He blinked, hoping they were from his imagination, but they were still there, as everything else still looked like him as well.

A realization slowly drawn to his consciousness.

He wanted to move himself away from the mirror and never would he wish to lay his eyes upon it ever again, but thousands of statics were forcing him to remain still as he had to tolerate the thousands bits of pain screaming inside his entire self. He couldn’t even feel himself wanting to cry anymore.

He wished he couldn’t blink again when he did and he saw himself as… h̷̸̸̨͟i̷̴̡͏ḿ̴̷̢͞.

Ḩ̸̛͜͝ę̧́ was there, smirking, and he just knew by the pride gleaming darkly within h̨̕ÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â̵̡̧͠s̷̛͜͠ eyes that indeed, h̸̕ę̶̵͜͝ had the most pleasure of h̨̕ÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â̵̡̧͠s̷̛͜͠ time, sneering at him and making him afraid. How delightful h̸̕ę̶̵͜͝became in the end to drink his terror all up as a fine wine —- a taste of having to win the battle.

“Now, tell me,” Ḩ̸̛͜͝ę̧́ would say, but he couldn’t tell if he was the one speaking or h̸̕ę̶̵͜͝ was, his mouth was numb, therefore he couldn’t tell if he was actually speaking. But the thought of how it was possible that he was currently being possessed by h̷̸̸̨͟i̷̴̡͏ḿ̴̷̢͞, explaining the lack of emotions and his entire inner body being covered in statics, occurring in his head, made him starting to lose his breath as he mentally shook his head.

No, no, no, no, no, no, n—

“Who do you see?”

Once he heard it, and eventually, it wasn’t said in the opposite, he could finally grasp the ability to breathe, and even speak when his mind wasn’t able to function properly to form such sentences.

But with a chance given, monotone, as a sign of giving in, all he could say was,

“You… I see y̛͞o̷̶̷͘u̢͜.”

He was certain he could no longer associate himself as who he was now, when all he would see, displaying in front of him, was h̷̸̸̨͟i̷̴̡͏ḿ̴̷̢͞.

(Even if in reality, he was actually looking at, and speaking to, himself this whole time. )

Crywolf

Posts:1,014

05-22-2017, 11:03 AM (This post was last modified: 05-25-2017, 03:00 AM by Crywolf.)

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★★★

characters: dem cool as heck gaming people ( to be added as i figure out who )
triggers: none as far as the plans goes on this oneshot, unless swearing counts.
word count: n/a
summary: a soft oneshot with some gaming guys and gals and pals in particular who just wanna get some fun and drinks at a video arcade together during in the calm evening after a hard day at work. nothing too fancy or anything.

[div style="0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%; color: black"]To be worked on.

Crywolf

Posts:1,014

05-22-2017, 12:50 PM (This post was last modified: 05-25-2017, 03:00 AM by Crywolf.)

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★★★

characters: caleb norwood, nick neilson, valerius schatz ( mentioned )
triggers: heavy descriptions focusing on homophobia and low self-esteem. there are multiple brief mentions of suicide ( attempts ), racism, eating disorders, alcohol and drug uses, abuses, rape, and many more, as this oneshot pretty much speaks about most of the problems we have to face today.
word count: n/a
summary: a person would believe there would be just two soft boys chilling at a hot tub, as there's nothing wrong with that scenario. but as time progresses faster than it should have been, the serenity dies off and replaces with tension, coming from a sudden personal discussion, relating to both of them being the victims from the society. either with them having one of the most darkest and painful moments, or even the most fun or peaceful activities, it is still need to be acknowledged and said that there is too much hatred in the world than there is love. ( somewhat an angst writing, but there's some fluff in the end )

[div style="0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%; color: black"]To be worked on.

radicalkat

Posts:130

05-24-2017, 09:10 PM

[align=center][div style="border:none;border-top Confused

olid1pxblack;width:400px;text-align:justify;margin-left:-5px;margin-top:-5px;"]
[color=black]tracking because ily and i live for your writing ;^)

[div style="width: 50%; text-align: center; margin: 0 auto; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: 100%;font-size:9pt;color:#;000000"]what does it mean to have freedom, every single feeling, every moment
all that i felt, longing and agony, pleading in desperation it could be love

Crywolf

Posts:1,014

05-25-2017, 02:54 AM (This post was last modified: 05-28-2017, 04:07 AM by Crywolf.)

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★★★

characters: caleb norwood ( not so surprisingly )
triggers: none.
word count: n/a
summary: look........ apparently mark with his friends are streaming for this month's charity. i saw these beautiful gifs on tumblr. and i gotta as that makes caleb a dreamy cutiepie, okay?? okA y so for this oneshot, caleb would probably be working at the c.f.s. headquarters, but ends up daydreaming about his partners because we all should know how much he loves them dearly so —- wow, is caleb a big one of a love m e s s , , , , , , ,

[div style="0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 115%; color: black"]There were a couple of staffs, including Caleb himself, who needed to stay at Catching Fallen Stars Headquarters over the night, which the usual time they were all allowed to leave was at the evening, directly seven o'clock. They had workfiles they had to be done tomorrow, said the other organization they were helping with, and the given job schedule wasn't enough to finish the rest that were not completed. Caleb was fine with it, in fact, there were multiple of times he stayed up incredibly late to do his work ( and ninety percent of them, he got caught and scolded at by his partners for not sleeping ). Therefore he was used to being in the scenario of working at a specific time when he was suppose to be on bed instead.

Wip.

Crywolf

Posts:1,014

05-26-2017, 12:45 AM

[align=center][div style="width: 440px; margin-top: 8px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 100%; color: #0d0d0d;"]Reserved post for a birthday oneshot because tod a y is my bi r t h dA y :3c

NEPENTHE [★] writing dump
Crywolf Posts:1,014 #1 05-11-2017, 12:16 AM (This post was last modified: 05-16-2017, 08:35 PM by Crywolf.) [align=center][div style="0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: #636363"]NEPENTHE ( n. ) something that can help you forget grief or suffering. Hello, and welcome! I decided to just dump some writings that I've done here, either for fun, doing character studies, or to vent. Feel free to post, or track, whatever floats your boat, and I hope you'll enjoy reading my writings! [align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: #000"][i]do not speak to me, for my ears bleeds from the ringing of betrayal Reply Crywolf Posts:1,014 #2 05-15-2017, 02:19 AM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2017, 12:23 AM by Crywolf.) [align=center][div style="0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: #636363"]TABLE OF CONTENT - I Hope You're Proud of Me, Mother [ Currently wip ] - You or Me? - Arcade Eyes [ Haven't started yet ] - Two Soft Boys In a One Rough World [ Haven't started yet ] - Head Up in Clouds, ( Both ) Full of Soft Adoration [ Haven't started yet ] [spoiler=WRITING IDEAS/PROMPTS]- Eight times when Theo portrays a trait of a feline - Nick being called pretty, awe - A soft oneshot between Theo and Arthur,, because,,, I love them so much?? - Nick Nick Nick Nick Nick Nicn NickNickNickNickNickDickDickDickDick - A friendly spar between Valerius and Ferdinand - Rhys going to the aquarium with Valerius, more or less of a date - Cuddle time with Halvard and Angus - Caleb. With sensitive nipples. And bandaids on them. That's all.[/spoiler] [align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: #000"][i]do not speak to me, for my ears bleeds from the ringing of betrayal Reply Crywolf Posts:1,014 #3 05-15-2017, 02:26 AM (This post was last modified: 05-22-2017, 10:19 AM by Crywolf.) [table]





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