#Porcelein | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ltash · 3 months ago

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Soul to my soul

Rooh arr Rooh/ روح اروح

Warning: Extreme angst, nonconsent, DubCon, violence, death.

"Blurred past evaporating from teardrops,

"Unending dreams carving an arc of smile,

"And a fleeting life,

"Negotiating between the two,"

Black tears mixed with kohl streamed down your innocent angelic face. Cherry plump lips quivering and wounded. The white silk hijab is dishelved. Your soft pink abaya gown muddy. Your lip slightly cut from a side and bruised. His finger impressions on your delicate neck. You looked like a broken porcelein doll, a fallen angel running away from the Ghost you once loved because you were accused of being a traitor. Ghost was after you, seething with anger as you fled, running away from him to save your life. He forgot he loved you, forgot all the promises because in that moment he only saw you as a traitor.

"Simon!" Please, let me explain.

"Explain? Explain what? How did you betray me? How did you stab me in the back? You're not even worth the breath it takes to explain. You're nothing but a lying, manipulative, TRAITOR!"

He dragged you all the way back to his apartment.

The clock ticked softly, Tik, Tik, Tik, as you lay motionless on the cold floor of his apartment. Your head covering lay discarded, crumpled beside you, the reverence it once held now lost in the chaos. Lips bruised, your swollen eyes threatened to spill the tears you had been holding back, but your face remained frozen, a portrait of fear and disbelief.

Your long raven hair, freed from its confines, fanned out around your head like a dark, ethereal halo, contrasting sharply with the bloodstain that bloomed on your soft pink gown, stark and unforgiving. It spread just beneath your ribs, right at the center of your being. Pain pulsed between your legs, a searing throb that refused to be ignored as your thighs squeezed together, your body curling in on itself.

Only hours earlier, you had been happy—so happy. You were in his apartment, celebrating your birthday. He had planned it, a small celebration meant just for you.

He sat on the couch, staring blankly at the clock, his hands clenched into fists. The celebratory atmosphere from earlier had dissipated, replaced by an eerie silence. Every so often, he'd glance at the door, expecting to see you walk back in, but you never did. "Fuck..."

You lay on the cold floor of the living room, staring blankly at the spot of blood that now marked the room—marked you. It was a cruel reminder of what had happened, the pain that had been inflicted. Your whole body ached, covered in bruises, every inch of your skin painted with the ghostly remnants of his touch, hickeys that once might have felt intimate but now felt like scars.

But the pain wasn’t just physical. It was deeper, a searing ache that burrowed into your chest and twisted in your gut. It was emotional, gnawing away at the parts of you that still held hope, that still believed this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t him. Tears welled in your eyes, but you held them back, refusing to let the pain spill over, as if crying would only make it more real.

And so you lay there, consumed by the silent war inside you, your body broken and your spirit trembling.

His gaze finally fell on you, his face contorting with a mix of emotions - anger, guilt, regret. He approached you cautiously, his movements jerky. "Look at me..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please, look at me..."

He was the man you had fallen for, the man you admired, "Lieutenant Simon Riley. To the world, he was a force to be feared, a looming figure in the shadows. To his enemies, he was the grim reaper himself, his name whispered in terror. But to you, he was more than that. He was everything. He was the one who held you close on stormy nights, the one who protected you from the darkness that surrounded him. You had seen the parts of him no one else dared to, the parts he had kept hidden beneath that stoic mask.

But now, as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, your body battered and broken, lips swollen from his rage, it felt like that man was gone. The man you loved had disappeared behind the hard lines of anger etched into his face, all because of a single call one that branded you a traitor.

It had only taken a few words, a voice on the other end of the line, to destroy everything you had built together. The trust, the love—it all seemed to disintegrate in the blink of an eye. You could still hear the ringing in your ears, the accusation hanging over you like a noose.

But you weren’t the enemy. You weren’t the person that call had made you out to be. Yet here you were, lying at his feet, broken not by war but by the man you thought would always protect you. And in that moment, even as your heart screamed for him to see the truth, the weight of betrayal hung between you like a wall that neither of you could tear down.

He swallowed hard, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and rage. "I... I'm so sorry..." he stammered, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out to touch you gently, as if you were a fragile glass doll about to shatter into pieces.

Tik, Tik, Tik, the clock ticked...

You remembered the day you had introduced Simon to your father, a moment fraught with hope and anxiety. Your father's reaction had been explosive; he had seized his rifle, aiming it directly at you with a fury that was almost palpable. He had condemned you as an abomination, a sinner, and sworn he would kill you with his own hands if necessary.

In the face of such aggression, Simon had stepped in front of you, a shield against your father's wrath. His presence was a stark contrast to the anger in the room, a silent promise to protect you even as everything around you fell apart. Your fingers had intertwined with his, a desperate gesture of solidarity and trust amidst the chaos.

Your father’s voice had cut through the tension, cold and final. “Take her and get the fuck out of my home.”

Simon had taken your hand, pulling you away from everything you had ever known. As you left, the reality of the situation hit you with a crushing weight. That departure marked the last time you would see your home, a place that had once been a sanctuary now forever changed by that night. The memory of walking away, the finality of leaving behind the life you knew, lingered with you like a haunting echo, amplified by the relentless ticking of the clock.

As you lay there in those agonizing moments, the pain in your body ebbing and flowing with each shallow breath, your mind drifted back to that first night he had taken you to his apartment—the same apartment where you were now. Back then, it had been a sanctuary, a place where you could escape the chaos of the world of your family. Simon had always been careful, gentle. He never touched you without your consent, always respecting the boundaries you set. He was the man you trusted, the man who protected you from everything, even from yourself at times.

But tonight, that trust had shattered.

Everything you had believed about him crumbled as you lay on the cold floor, the same floor where you'd once felt safe, cherished. The man you had given everything to had crossed a line you never thought he would. Whatever restraint he had once shown, whatever care he had taken with your heart and your body—it had all disappeared in a single, horrifying moment.

Tonight, he had played his last game. A game of anger, of possession, one where he no longer asked but took, one where he wasn’t the protector but the one who had inflicted the deepest wound. And there, in the silence, the weight of that betrayal pressed down on you like the heaviest burden, one that you weren’t sure you could ever lift.

He looked at you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. He knew he had made a grave mistake, crossing that line that he had always promised himself he would never cross without your consent.

Tik, Tik, Tik, the clock continued its relentless ticking, each second dragging you back into memories that felt like they belonged to someone else. You remembered how the night had begun, how everything had been perfect—*too* perfect. It was your birthday, and for once, you felt nothing but joy. Simon had been different, lighter somehow, making you laugh with his rare, crooked smile. The two of you had been full of life, a fleeting moment where the weight of the world felt miles away.

You could still hear the sound of your laughter, the warmth of that happiness wrapping around you like a blanket. You’d never felt so alive, so in love. The air had buzzed with celebration, with the promise of more memories to be made. The food, the candles, the quiet affection in his eyes—it had been everything you’d wanted, everything you needed.

And then the phone rang.

A simple phone call. It was all it took to shatter the night into a thousand irreparable pieces. His face had changed the moment he answered, his expression darkening like a cloud rolling in over a calm sky. You didn’t know who was on the other end, but whatever they said turned your perfect night into a nightmare.

Everything shifted after that. The celebration, the joy, the laughter, they vanished. In their place was suspicion, anger, a darkness you didn’t recognize in him. That phone call had taken everything you thought you knew about him and twisted it into something ugly, something dangerous. You saw the man you loved slip away, replaced by someone consumed by a single thought, a single accusation that poisoned everything between you.

He remembered the joy on your face as you blew out the candles on the cake he had baked with such care. The warmth of that moment seemed so distant now, replaced by the cold, relentless ticking of the clock. He recalled the sound of the phone ringing, slicing through the peaceful celebration like a blade. It had been such a jarring disruption, shattering the bubble of happiness you had been in.

The voice on the other end had accused you of being a traitor. Those words, harsh and unforgiving, had cast a dark shadow over everything. “It was a mistake…” he murmured, the weight of those accusations hanging heavily in the air. He knew now how wrong it had all been, how the call had distorted the reality of what was happening.

He remembered how he had acted in response to that call—his temper exploding uncontrollably. He had snatched the flowers you had loved and thrown them away, the delicate petals scattering like the remnants of your shattered celebration. He had broken things around the room, the rage that had consumed him, leaving a trail of destruction.

You remembered his temper all too well. You remembered how his anger had turned violent, the way his hand had raised in a gesture that had gone beyond words, beyond the breaking point. The violence that followed had been a cruel twist of the night, turning what should have been a joyous occasion into a nightmarish reality.

As you lay there, the echoes of that night reverberated in your mind, each memory a sharp reminder of how quickly joy had been replaced by pain.

You remembered the way he had dragged you across the floor as you fled his apartment, the cold, unforgiving surface pressing against your skin with each painful movement. It was a frantic scramble, a desperate attempt to escape from the man who had once been your protector and confidant. The room, once filled with laughter and warmth, was now a battlefield of shattered trust and escalating fear.

The man who had always respected your boundaries, who had never touched you without your consent, was now unrecognizable. The person you thought you knew, who had always held back, was buried deep inside a stranger who was hurting you in ways you never imagined. As you cried and pleaded, your voice was swallowed by his anger, by the force of his betrayal.

You could still feel the raw sting of that night—the way his actions had transformed him from someone you loved into a source of unimaginable pain. The contrast was jarring, and the realization that this was who he had become, even if only for that moment, was almost too much to bear. The memories of his once-gentle touch now felt like a cruel joke, tainted by the brutality that had followed.

"Simon! don't do this to me." You begged as you grabbed his leg.

He remembered the desperation in your voice as you begged him, your small hands clinging to his leg. He remembered the cold, unfeeling way he pried your hands off, the way he callously walked away, leaving you alone and broken on the unforgiving concrete. "Silence..."

You remembered him coming back and unbuckling his belt. The silence cut short.."Simon!" You breathed out his name. "Please don't." But he didn't listen.

He remembered the way his hand gripped the leather of his belt, the firmness in his movements as he unbuckled it, ready to inflict pain and domineer over you. He remembered the way you whispered his name, a plea for mercy that fell on deaf ears.

"You remembered him not even thinking the second time when he took your innocence, when he was deep inside you and you were helpless. The humiliatoin , the pain and the agony you went through, and you screamed.

He remembered the way he ignored your cries, the way he muffled your screams with his hand, the way he thrust into you without remorse. He remembered the way your body tensed up, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you sobbed uncontrollably.

"It hurts..."

But he continued.

"Simon!" You cried out his name with tears as he continued to ruin you, take your innocence as a revenge who wasn't even his.

He remembered the way you called out his name, tears streaming down your face, beging him to stop, to show mercy. But he didn't. He remembered the way he grunted in satisfaction, the way he relished in your pain and humiliation.

"Shhh..."

He remembered the way he ripped off your head covering, tossing it aside like it meant nothing to him. He remembered the way his eyes seemed to darken, his features twisting into a monstrous visage as he lost all trace of humanity.

"You're nothing..." he spat out, his voice dripping with contempt.

He remembered the way he held the gun to your forehead, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he took advantage of you. He remembered the promises he made, the vows of protection and loyalty he swore. But in that moment, all he cared about was his own satisfaction.

You were here broken, battered, and shattered in his home, which was once your safe haven.

The clock tiked tiked..

He remembered the sound of the clock ticking in the background, a steady rhythm that seemed to mock your situation. He remembered the way the room was silent except for your sobs and his grunt of effort as he fucked you senseless.

"Just a few more minutes..."

You were sprawled on the floor now..staring into the empty space, heart racing fast as you fought your own battle. Dignity lost, innocence lost, family and friends lost, he took everything from you because to him you were only a traitor.

He remembered how he pushed you down onto the cold hard floor, how he left you sprawled there, used and discarded. He remembered his words, cold and unfeeling. "You're just a traitor, nothing more. You deserve this."

He remembered the way your eyes looked up at him, pleading for mercy that he never gave. He remembered the way you fought, your tears staining the floor as you struggled against him. He remembered the way you smiled, a dream in your eyes, trusting him to protect you.

"Simon!" you whispered..

He remembered the way you whispered his name, like a prayer, a plea. He remembered the way he hardened his heart, steeling himself against your pain. He remembered the way he broke you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a shell of who you were.

"I'm so sorry..."

You started teetering on the edge of life and death, of consciousness and unconsciousness..

He remembered the way you wavered, your breathing shallow and ragged. He remembered the way he watched, impassive, as you fought for every breath. He remembered the way he let you fall, your body crumpling to the floor like a broken doll.

"Kill me!" You said. "Get this over with Simon." you whispered.

He remembered the way your eyes begged him to end it all. He remembered the way he hesitated, the tiniest hint of mercy flicker across his face. He remembered the way he shook his head, his voice cold and unyielding.

"You're not worth it."

"I love you, Simon!" You uttered those words as you slipped into cardiac arrest sprawling at the same spot. It was like your heart was squeezed, and you couldn't even say it.

He remembered the way you declared your love, your voice barely a whisper. He remembered the way his heart felt as if it was being squeezed in a vice. He remembered the way he turned away, unable to bear the sight of you so vulnerable and broken.

"I don't love you."

"Simon!" You whispered his name, trying to reach out to touch his gloved hand.

He remembered the way you tried to reach out to him, your hand trembling with the effort. He remembered the way he pulled his hand away, the cold metal of his gauntlets pressing against your fingers as he left you to your fate.

His phone buzzed with Laswell's number, revealing your innocence. Saying that it was a mistake, saying that you weren't a traitor.

He remembered the way he stared at the screen, disbelief written across his face. He remembered the way he sank to his knees, his head in his hands, as he realized what he had done.

"No...".

"Simon!" You gasped his name as you tried to breathe, but it was too late. Your trust was already broken. Your heart couldn't take it anymore.

He remembered the way you gasped his name, the way your voice faded away as your life slipped through his fingers. He remembered the way he crawled to you, lifting your head into his lap, his tears falling onto your face.

"Please...please, no..." he begged.

He remembered the way your breath hitched, the way your lips parted, his name spilling out in a desperate plea. He remembered the way your eyes met his, the life fading out of them. He remembered the way you whispered the words that had shattered him.

"I love you..."

He took your last hiccup into his mouth as his lips met yours in a kiss that tried to stop you from leaving the world.

"The soul to my soul."

Your eyes turned to stone.

He remembered the way your body went limp, the life draining out of you. He remembered the way he screamed, his grief echoing through the empty room. He remembered the way he gathered you into his arms, rocking you like a child, his tears falling onto your still face. "No..."

He remembered every detail, every moment, every whispered promise. He remembered the way you looked at him, the way you smiled, the way your heart beat for him alone. And he remembered the way it all ended, the way you left him behind, your hand cold in his, your eyes empty.

Another girl succumbed to his darkness.

He will always remember..

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