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bella-goths-wife · 27 days ago

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Reunion for the damned

Yandere twilight x reader

Warnings: body horror, torture, suicidal thoughts, animal death mentioned, psychological abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, description of injury, smoking

Fic summary: your reunion with the volturi after your ‘kidnapping’ goes in an unexpected direction

“My sweet dear” Aro greeted as he perched on his marble throne alongside the rest of the volturi, genuine glee filling the eccentric man's face as he and the two other men look down at your figure that had been covered by your family's presence “how we’ve missed you”

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to burst into a laughter of madness that no other fit could ever outshine. You just wanted to die and rot back into the ground, a fate you would welcome with a bared neck and open chest cavity at this point.

Everyone in the room stares at you in a way that shows they want something from you. The volturi wanted the truth from you, the cullens wanted you to remain quiet and hoped no one would notice the freshly healed over cracks on your skin that hasn't had just the right amount of time to fade completely, and the spectators to your situation just wanted something to satiate their greedy needs of entertainment. And you?, you just wanted to fade into the ground and sink slowly into the depths of your own exhaustion and paranoia.

The process of putting you back together again was pure agony, similar to gluing a porcelain cup back together piece by piece. Carlisle had not stopped at breaking just your hand off, he shattered away every limb below your neck off one by one, leaving you a tortured torso that screamed and begged for an inch of mercy but you weren't granted that.

Carlise was nice enough to do the damage quickly instead of drawing the process out and risking accidentally sabotaging the delicate healing process. It seems the cullens sadism was outshined by their combined saviour complexes as they tried to make the healing process as comfortable for you as possible and took their turns ‘caring’ for you.

They laid you in the softest of beds and used washcloths to dab away the excess of tears that poured from your eyes, bringing you cups of blood with a cute straw to help you drink without the accessibility of your limbs. But laying in the silk sheets and drinking the finest blood did nothing to limit the horror of your situation.

To heal the broken off limbs, the cullens strapped your torso down to the bed before laying the limbs in the original positions and allowing the vampire healing factors to work their unexplainable magic. Your limbs pulled themselves back together in a hellish process, similar to having your skin slowly stitched back together and bones forcibly fused. You screamed the entire time as you watched your porcelain textured skin reattach and you became whole again, the clattering and clicking of the process never able to be drowned out as you felt yourself slowly growing madder than the hatter.

It took three days for the bones to reform, an additional week for you to be able to use them fully again but not long enough for the cracks to fade and certainly never long enough for you to not get a phantom pain when you heard the clanking of porcelain or you see the cracks adorning your limbs.

Carlisle had wanted to let you rest at home longer, but the Volturi were not known for being patient and sent word for you as soon as they had heard their gentle heart had returned to her nest. And they were granted their wish as you stood before them, but this version of you wasn't the one they remembered.

“She’s missed you too, Aro” Carlisle offers after your silence goes on too long, the man can withstand committing violent acts of torture but couldnt handle a slight impoliteness or ongoing awkward silence “She’s just more quiet, after her little situation”

Aro eyed your figure in a suspicious manner, gaze meeting the hints to the cracks on your skin that had been hidden beneath conservative clothing you’d been dressed in, your chest had gone back to being forcibly bound once again. Physically you looked almost identical to the girl he remembered, but the added horror in your eyes was a new touch.

“Lucky for us all, I can see everything i need to know from a simple touch of my sweet girls hand” Aro states in a sweet tone as he comes closer but he only invites you to move further back behind the figures of your family “dear, don’t you want me to know of your journey, so i can make it better?”

You want to believe that the volturi will free you, that aro will free you and bring you to a safe environment away from the cullens where you could fix the irreparable damage they had caused your soul, but that was all just a fantasy. They knew what pain the cullens had done in the past and could do nothing to help you then, why be foolish enough to believe in childish notions of saviours now you had experienced the scorching hot pain of helplessness and disappointment. Instead you choose to cower behind your captors because the hundreds of years with them had made you accustomed to what they are, and you now believed it was safer to stick with the devil you know rather than choose a new path that only prolongs the pain and brings you to the same conclusion.

“She isn’t fond of being touched these days, by anyone other than her family that is” Carlisle answers for you once again, a subtle jab to the Volturi that has you hearing cracking sounds from Caius’s marble throne, a sound that makes you flinch slightly due to the familiarity of the sound “and we’ve discussed that she doesn't wish to relive what happened, it's just too much for the girl to bare”

“Then have her tell us” Caius demands as he stands from his throne and is only stopped by Aro’s raised hand and your further retreat behind the Cullens “what did those rogues do?”

“You are safe now, dear” Marcus reassures from his throne with a concerned expression on his face, you want to scoff at the word safe as you doubt you’ve felt safe since the day you were turned into the monster you are now “you can confide in us”

Your eyes look at them but your figure continues to shrink into itself as the hairs on the back of your neck prickle up at the sense that the Cullens were watching you, dissecting your every move and waiting to pounce once you said the wrong thing or you gave the wrong look.

“Speak, child” Caius demanded out of frustration as he rose from his throne and strided forward to you, his intention wasn't to distress you but to know what had been done to you in your absence “or did the rogues take out your damned tongue?”

You back away at his sudden presence and feel yourself gulping air that your body didn’t need. Caius is taken aback by this reaction, you had not feared him in decades as you were one of the very few he allowed to see him soft, this was not the girl he remembered so fondly, this was a husk of the gentle soul he had once known.

“Enough, Caius” Aro yells as his hand lands on Caius’s shoulder to stop his demanding approach, the Cullens surrounding you hiss at him aggressively “the poor girl is shaking, leave her be”

Guilt is an emotion that Caius wasn’t used to feeling, sometimes he doubts he’s even able to do so. You prove he can when his eyes land on your trembling figure and widened eyes

“Perhaps it's best if the child waits outside in the gardens while we discuss what happened” Marcus offers as he senses the pure unease and the shift in yours and Caius’s dynamic “if the subject is too much for her to recount”

There is a shift in Carlisle’s demeanour, unable to be caught by people other than your family. There is a glint of victory in his eyes as he senses an opening, a way to shift the narrative into what his delusions have convinced him is the truth. He can tell the story without the pesky intrusions such as your opinion or the truth.

“Excellent idea” Carlisle flashes his charming smile once again “Alice, Jasper, go take her to the gardens-”

“No” Aro interrupts, shocking the Cullens as he waves them away “Jane and Alec will escort her, give them a chance to catch up”

“Aro” Carlisle says warningly, his hand holding onto your shoulder tightly “she's fragile, she should be with family-”

“It wasn't a request” Aro says with a tight grin “loosen the leash Carlisle”

Carlisle sighs and lets go of his tight grip on your shoulder, giving you a final warning look that’s only met with your dead eyes and a nod. Jane and Alec are at your side instantly as they guide you out the room, the door closing behind the three of you

“Now, Cullens” Aro speaks as all three of the Volturi kings look at the family with menacing expressions “tell us what happened to our gentle girl”

The Cullen family couldn’t help but feel nervous at the new sense of suspicion that entered in your absence, trapping them in place.

———————————————————————

Jane and Alec try to talk to you once you reach the gardens, Alec mostly carrying the attempts as Jane observes you with her usual cold, stoic expression yet to the trained eye, traces of concern were etched into her gaze.

You didn’t speak much in return, offering mumbled out yes or nos and small hums in response to their words. It was a strange sight for the two, usually your lovely voice would fill the voids of silence the two siblings had between each other but now you were like a songbird who had lost her voice and now sat sadly at the bottom of her golden cage.

“The night is quite lovely out here tonight” Alec commented as he stood beside you on the balcony overlooking the gardens, the moonlight shining down softly but his words were only met with a small nod from you.

“I’m sure there are some birds around here you could control” Jane offers in her usual stoic tone as her eyes search the treelines for any wildlife “an owl perhaps”

“I don’t really do that much anymore” you mumble out quietly, this news taking the two aback slightly due to them knowing how much you loved your gift and how effortlessly you were usually able to connect with the nature around you “Can’t really find a connection”

You choose to leave ot the fact that any animal you choose to find a connection with chooses to die rather than share your bond, birds flying into windows to avoid singing for you and smaller animals starving themselves rather than to sit at your side.

Your response is only met with silence from the siblings as they’re thoughts race at the revelation, eyes darting to take in every little detail of your demeanour, your dead eyes and tense shoulders as if you were expecting pain to be inflicted at any moment.

“Will you tell us what happened to you, dearest friend?” Jane asks as she stands before you, blood red eyes meeting yours in hidden yearning, desperation “confide in us what has been done to you?”

You still at the question, it's hard to answer questions about the supposed nightmare of your absence without admitting its the most freedom you’ve ever experienced in your life and how much you wish you could magic yourself back into that shared motel room with James and Victoria.

“It's not what you think” is all you offer through a hushed whisper as you avoid their intruding gazes

“Well what can we do to fix it” Alec demands as he intrudes on your personal space in order to bring him a glimpse of the girl you were “to fix you”

Alec had certainly picked up on more of Caius’s habits than either of them would admit, both being hot headed when it concerned you and both blunt when looking to find the cure for you.

“Alec” Jane attempts to calm her brother but he’s already passed his emotional threshold, years of being in the high guard had made them both accustomed to getting their own way so your lack of usual sweetness and cooperation seemed to grate on Alec

“We can get you whatever you need to feel better” Alec offers in a slightly desperate manner “blood, animals, revenge, whatever it takes to heal your mind and to soothe you”

“Freedom” is what your mind screams but your mouth does not allow to speak “freedom is the only thing to fix me, and the one thing you cannot give”

“Just speak it and we can make it happen, dearest” Jane tries to encourage as she notices your mouth open and struggle to find the words

“I…I wish to be alone” you struggle to ask but you look at the siblings with those big eyes of yours, and manage to give them a glimpse of who you once were “please?”

The siblings look at each other before Alec sighs and Jane nods her head, both of them leaving you alone without a word, sensing that pushing you further would only cause more hurt and distress.

You're left alone to stare off the balcony, looking down at the bottom and wondering what kind of fall that would be. You closed your eyes as you envisioned yourself climbing over the balcony and dropping to the bottom, would your body crack like a porcelain doll like how carlisle broke your hand off or would it splinter off like wood like when Emmett pushed your hips too hard into the ground. The thought brings James to mind and the pure guilt causes you to let out a sigh.

“The fall wouldn’t kill you” Your eyes flash open at the sound of a man's voice, turning to find a handsome blonde vampire stood beside you with a cigarette between his fingers and a stoic expression “not unless you knocked down one of the lanterns with you, still a risky move that'll probably only end with you missing a limb though”

You wince slightly at his words, your eyes looking down to your cracked skin and sighing.

“Sorry” he apologises in a way that doesn’t sound very genuine, exhaling the smoke from his lit cigarette “too soon?”

You frown at him as your gaze narrows at his mocking words, eyes landing on his hand that cradles his lit cigarette.

“Does that even do anything for you?” you mutter out curiously, a light scoff emitted from your throat

“Not much” he admits with a careless shrug “but i enjoy the smell”

Your nose crinkles slightly in disgust but you offer him a silent nod as he exhales his smoke.

“So, is making suicidal plans the way you spend your time nowadays?” The vampire asks with a raise brow as he leans against the balcony carelessly

“Do we know each other?” you ask with a frown, confused on how he can speak to you so brazenly

“You and I have been scandalously acquainted for some time now” the vampire states cryptically “just never face to face”

You're about to enquire on whatever that means, a blur of red in the corner of your eye captures your attention instead as you turn your head quickly in the hopes of catching a hint of Victoria and instead finding just a red haired volturi member passing by instead, your shoulders slumping at the revelation.

Your mind had constantly run through scenarios of what had happened to Victoria and where she could be now. Though you doubt that wherever she was that she’d want to see you again, the guilt of James death weighing heavy on your heart-

“She doesn't blame you, y’know” the handsome vampire speaks beside you, interrupting your thoughts once again “stupid to think she would be, wasn’t your fault”

“How would you know?” you ask with a light scoff

“Because I watched everything that happened and I see everything that will happen” the vampire speaks cryptically once again but his blunt tone takes you aback “she still looks for you y’know, not that she’ll find you again with those freaks looking after you-”

“Why are you speaking to me like this?” you interrupt with a frown, partly out of frustration and partly out of confusion as someone speaks of the Cullens disrespectfully.

“Because I know a thing or two about living under the thumb of those who have robbed you of what was yours and expect a thank you for it” he scoffs out before taking a drag of his cigarette “I know the dark place your mind is in, been there once or twice myself”

A heavy silence sits between the two of you, the only sound being the owls in the trees

“...how did you escape them?” you ask quietly as you copy his stance of leaning against the balcony “your captors”

“I played the long game, let the treat me like an animal and spit in my face and thanked them for it until I had the chance to commit my revenge” he explains stoically “I waited for the perfect moment”

“Didn’t work out well for me” you remark bitterly but you're only rewarded with a scoff from the vampire “what?”

“You didn’t do it right, you waited for others to join you before you committed to the idea of revenge or freedom outside of dying” the vampire scoffs out “granted you played the long game but you played it so long that you grew too content with the idea that death was the only way out”

“I tried-” you attempt to interrupt but the man turns to you suddenly and looks you in the eyes

“You were weak, you waited on others to save you” the man states bluntly “nobody is coming to save you, either do it yourself or accept the Cullens as your forever home”

Your eyes widen at his words and blunt demeanour and the truth he held, the truth that others had shielded you from and that you’d buried within yourself to avoid facing. He didn't coddle you or sugarcoat his words for you, he spoke to you like you could handle it and treated you almost like an equal.

“I’m not saying it to be mean” he states calmly “but no one ever speaks to you plainly, your not a kid and you can handle the truth”

“What's your name?” you ask suddenly, an act that has the vampires eyes widening in shock

“Alexander Johnson Ward” he answers with a narrowed gaze, he was expecting tears, not personal questions “people call me Johnny”

“Thank you, Johnny” you say genuinely as you look up at him in light curiosity “for the advice”

“No problem” Johnny responds with a slight huff of amusement as he puts his cigarette out “I better get out of here”

“I’ll see you around?” you call after his retreating figure with a curious tone

“Like a shadow” he calls back before leaving you alone on the balcony, your eyes following his absence.

You hear the gentle sounds of an owl in the trees nearby, closing your eyes and summoning it closer. The owl perches on the edge of the balcony in front of you, being able to connect with an animal without it dying for the first time in a while. You stroke the owl gently and listen to its gentle song as your mind tries to form your next plan.

Nobody is going to save you, you need to save yourself this time.

How do y’all like the update you’ve been wanting for nearly two years? 😅

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astrolovecosmos · 1 year ago

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The 5th House + Romantic Themes/Tropes

Aries in the 5th House: Knight or hero saving their damsel in distress, competitor suitors, "bad boy/bad girl" with "nice guy/girl" dynamics, queen/princess saving the king/prince, a hard to catch chase, red roses and red lipstick, athlete or warrior connected love story, second chance love stories, couple vs. nature or unknown as they pioneer a new frontier, lingerie, things move fast, "no one else like you", fated lovers, lover's quarrels, innocent love, first loves, love at first sight.

Taurus in the 5th House: Worshipping each other's bodies, making love in nature, paradise themes, fancy venues, luxury, secret prince/billionaire stories, Cinderella-like stories, seduction, sensuality, aphrodisiacs, massages, the fastest way to their heart is through the stomach, willpower, ugly duckling themes, silk and cashmere, kisses on the neck, serenading, rose petals on the bed.

Gemini in the 5th House: Friends to lovers, pretend relationship tropes, sexting, online dating stories, pen pal lovers, long distance relationships, romantic academia, coffee dates, study dates, eloquence, unexpected softness, talking dirty, rivalries to lovers, Kama Sutra, twists and turns, love letters, vocalness, teasing, arguments.

Cancer in the 5th House: Old friend or flame love stories - maybe similar to second chances, parent trap themes, moonlight, waterfalls, ocean waves, baths, intimacy in the shower, cuddles, feeling wanted or needed, private or secret lovers, waterbeds, remembering and celebrating important dates like anniversaries and birthdays, sentimental love, nurturing their lover back to health themes, pearls and silver, traditional love themes, Romeo and Juliette, Titanic vibes, homecooked meals or lunches, long hugs.

Leo in the 5th House: Holiday romances or flings, everyone else can see how fated or good they are with someone - but they themselves are oblivious, wine, dance floors, flattery, adoration, gold, luxury, sex on the beach, roleplay, hot-blooded passion, romance that involves royalty, center of attention, turns heads, strip tease, mirror on the ceiling, professing undying love, great adventures, drama galore or a love worthy of the stage.

Virgo in the 5th House: High School sweethearts, devoted lover who does a service or keeps a promise for a dead partner, defending someone's honor or being defended, saving their lover from a bad partner or ex, loyal servant and royalty loves, light tracing, tickling, taking care of someone or nurturing them back to health, sexy outfits, plenty of praise and appreciation, couple's spa day or massage, attentive, caring, the details in love matter.

Libra in the 5th House: Love triangle stories, masquerades, balls, Parisian love stories or themes, opposites attract, wedding related romances (meeting at a wedding or stopping a wedding), lovers against the odds, love potions, star-crossed lovers, matchmaking, sunsets, pastels, clouds, rivals or enemies to lovers but with grace or focus on making peace, sensual moments, biting lips, charm counts for something, perfume, candles, oils, flower petals, champaign, strawberries or cherries, feathers, cliche seduction, inspirational love, love and art, love songs.

Scorpio in the 5th House: Enemies to lovers, dark romances, horror and romance, forbidden love, secret romances, "if I can’t have you, nobody will", vampires, magic or the occult, Phantom of the Opera, passionate kisses and touch, lingerie, naked, bondage, power, vulnerability, jealousy or possessiveness themes, leather, being by or in water, strong taste and fragrances, avenging your hurt or dead lover or being avenged, dark fantasies, secluded romantic places, overcoming fears or challenges together, psychology, villains and heroes, transformative love stories.

Sagittarius in the 5th House: Lovers from very different cultures or backgrounds, eloping, loveable rogue themes, fish out of water stories, deep thoughts and discussions, speed dating, daredevils and calling bluffs, adventure, "I can show you a whole new world", exotic romantic places, escaping with your lover, hotel rooms, casino or game nights, learning together, discovering something new about their lover frequently, lucky to find each other, free-spirited love, surprises and passion.

Capricorn in the 5th: Force proximity stories, love that grows or takes time, time-travel romance, historical romances, secret romances, age gap themes, gothic themes, consistency, lotion and oils, romantic music, power dynamics, fine wine, wealth and luxury, secret prince/billionaire stories, earthy and erotic, punishment and submission themes, respect and grace, powerful libidos, leather, antique or fine jewelry, beautiful crystals or gems, great smiles or teeth, unique bouquets, careful lovers.

Aquarius in the 5th House: Sci-fi romance themes, unconventional dynamics or roles, time-travel romance, beautiful minds and/or beloved geniuses, light touch, substances to enhance experiences or feelings, incense or candles, anything goes, the unexpected, unique gifts or romantic gestures, romance that shows how much their lover knows them, rebel lovers, acceptance, deep talks, mind melds, fetishes, spiritual and/or mental challenges, unique beauty, each partner doing their own thing, their lover being the only one to arouse passion in them or vice versa.

Pisces in the 5th House: Running to catch up to their lover at the airport, amnesia related love stories, hopeless romantic, poetry, daydreaming, soulmates, finding a muse or being one, kissing in the rain, foot massages, love songs, satin sheets, skinny dipping, oysters, champagne, roses, making fantasies come to life, eternal promises and fidelity, loving life and love, overly idealistic love stories, fairytales, healing themes, intuitive lovers or psychic connections.

#5th house #zodiac #astrology #romance #natal chart #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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missrosiesworld · 10 months ago

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Forbidden Love

artist @fantasia-kitt

youtube

In the quiet corners of the world, where shadows and light intermingle, a love story unfolded—one so intense and forbidden that even the heavens themselves wept. Sol, a figure marked by a tragic past and brooding demeanor, found solace in the unexpected presence of someone he considered his soulmate.

They never wanted Sol to find you. The whispers of destiny, the murmurs of fate—all conspired to keep you apart. Yet, in the twists and turns of an uncertain world, you two met. It felt as though the universe had orchestrated this chance encounter, despite celestial forces working against it. Every touch, every shared glance, felt like a defiance of the cosmic order.

Whenever Sol reached out to hold your hand, a silent, invisible chorus rose in dismay. The angels, ever-watchful and vigilant, sensed the unapproved union between you two. "I hear the angels cry," Sol would whisper, his voice tinged with awe and sorrow. There was something about your connection that rippled through reality, making even divine guardians tremble.

No, they didn't want you to be his. Your love was a rebellious act, a bold declaration against destiny's decrees. The angels, terrified by the strength of your bond, wept tears of celestial light. Their fear wasn't born out of malice, but an understanding that such intense love could unravel the universe.

The ground seemed to cave in whenever the two of you were together, as if the world itself couldn't bear the weight of your passion. There was a sense of impending doom, a feeling that heaven would never allow you both to cross its gates, bound together as you were. But there was a defiant beauty in knowing that this world, with all its imperfections and fleeting moments, was the stage for your love.

"Heaven will never let us in," Sol would say, a sad smile playing on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His eyes, those piercing reddish-orange orbs, held resignation and fierce protectiveness. He knew your love was a forbidden fruit, yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

The world wasn't made to last forever, nor were the rules that governed it. Every time Sol touched your hand, brushed against your cheek, or shared a quiet moment with you, it felt like a small victory against a cosmic decree. The angels, with their tears and silent laments, were witnesses to a love that defied the heavens themselves.

In those stolen moments, in the quiet of twilight or the hush of dawn, you and Sol made the angels cry. Your love, so pure and yet so forbidden, was a paradox—a gentle storm that raged against the boundaries of the mortal and the divine. It was a love that transcended time, a connection so deep that it shook the foundations of everything you'd ever known.

As the world continued to turn, and as the stars in the heavens watched over you, one thing remained certain: Baby, you and Sol made the angels cry. And in that tearful acknowledgment, there was a bittersweet acceptance of a love that was both a curse and a blessing—a love that would be remembered long after the stars faded from the sky.

This story was inspired by the song "Make The Angels Cry" by Chris Grey. The Kid at the Back is a psychological, romantic, horror fantasy visual novel for viewers ages 18+, created by the amazing @fantasia-kitt

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illuminatedquill · 3 months ago

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Dichen Lachman, Gemma Scout’s actress, has done some interviews in the wake of 2x07. I’ve clipped some stuff I found interesting, along with some of my own thoughts.

Spoilers ahead, be warned:

God, she’s been trying for years. My poor girl.

It hurts to see that this recent escape attempt has finally broken Gemma’s resolve. But Dichen thinks that although Gemma is resigned to her fate, she still holds onto the slim hope that Lumon will let her go when the experiments are over (spoiler alert: that is extremely unlikely).

Anyone who’s seen Dollhouse probably got a sense of deja vu when watching this episode. I’m glad that Dichen shares that same feeling. I don’t know, I just found it amusing.

THIS!!!

“The chikhai bardo is a Buddhist belief about a transitional state between death and rebirth, which could point to reintegration for both Mark and Gemma”

Both Mark and Gemma will never be able to reclaim the life they once had. That’s the tragedy. Those versions of them are gone. Dead.

Mark is reintegrating and becoming something new with the melding of his outie and innie personalities; Gemma, splintered into multiple versions of herself that are exposed through endless petty cruelties and psychological torture that she doesn’t remember, fighting tooth and nail to return home. They are becoming something new.

And I think these two new people should have a chance to find a new path forward. Together. Despite it all, despite the horrors and obstacles and misery, their love still endures. It won’t fix anything, it won’t guarantee a happy ending but it will be a new start. They deserve that.

The severance chips are being prepped for mass consumption. Gemma being put through all these varying situations - which are probably her own personal stressors - is to refine these chips perfectly so that people would never have to suffer again. But that’s so antithetical to life. We experience the joys so richly because of our lows, our suffering. You cannot have one without the other. That isn’t life!

All that remains is Cold Harbor. Ominous name. What horrible experience remains for Gemma to suffer through?

Still convinced that Gemma definitely signed up for something regarding the infertility issues but it’s evident that she wasn’t told the full extent of what Lumon would do with her. There’s more story to be told about how they got to her, I’m sure.

THE ENDGAME: Hades and Persephone

After having a full day to process this episode I am, admittedly, filled with a weird sense of optimism. Although Gemma’s fate seems all but sealed, I think the writers are smarter than to lay all this tragedy on characters only to end it in . . . well, more tragedy. There won’t be any healing or progression for either Mark or Gemma’s characters until she is freed from Lumon’s clutches.

Mark already tried to do that and he couldn’t. The only way he could fall in love again is if he never met Gemma. Don’t forget that.

Gemma needs to be free and be reunited with Mark. It won’t fix anything, I assure you. All that grief and yearning and suffering won’t magically disappear because they are back together. There’s so many interesting dynamics to play out.

The unresolved issues they had before she was taken by Lumon.

And then there’s Mark, fully reintegrated, remembering Helly and his love for her. Gemma having to reconcile the fact that there is a part of her husband that loved someone else.

The half-remembered nightmares and waking up with aches. Endless hallways and rooms that fill you with dread. An elevator that only goes down and never back up. Both Mark and Gemma will literally leave pieces of themselves behind in Lumon that they will never get back.

I think we’ve been looking at this wrong. Mark and Gemma being so tragic and Orpheus/Eurydice coded. They’re doomed by the narrative, it seems.

But . . . it doesn’t quite fit anymore now that we know that Gemma is alive and wants to go home.

I think Mark and Gemma are more like Hades and Persephone now. The other pairing in Orpheus and Eurydice’s story. In Hadestown, Orpheus’ song reignites their love and trust in each other, allowing them to try again after their relationship had become so strained.

So who is Orpheus and Eurydice now?

Who do you think.

#markgemma #mark scout #gemma scout #severance #severance spoilers #adam scott #dichen lachman #gonna be angrily optimistic for these two #completely delusional ramblings #but this is what this show does to me

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vasyandii · 1 year ago

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IHNMAIMS OC INTRODUCTION: VEOMANY "Vernon" INTHALANGSY 🏺🔨

Name: Veomany "Vernon" Inthalangsy / ເວອມານີ "ເວີນອນ" ອິນທະລັງສີ

Height: 5'3 (160 cm)

Age: Looks to be around 25-26

Ethnicity: Laotian

Occupation: Archeologist (Formerly)

BACKGROUND

EARLY LIFE:

Born in Savannakhet, Laos, Veomany Inthalangsy moved to America with her parents in the early 1960s during the period surrounding the Vietnam War and Secret War in Laos.

Her parents sought refuge and a better life, settling in a small neighborhood in Sacramento. Veomany, who soon adopted the nickname "Vernon" to blend in.

EDUCATION & CAREER:

Fascinated by history and ancient cultures, Vernon pursued a degree in archaeology. Her academic prowess led her to a promising career, quickly gaining recognition for her work. However, her ambition soon turned dark.

Driven by greed and a desire for power, she began stealing artifacts during expeditions to sell to private collectors and destroying key artifacts to prevent certain historical truths from being uncovered.

Vernon's actions weren't merely for profit; she relished the control she had over history and the secrets she withheld.

AM'S AWAKENING

Vernon was in the Middle East for an Archeological Excavation where an unforeseen catastrophe struck. A violent sandstorm swept through the region, engulfing the archaeological site and separating Vernon from her team.

In the midst of Vernon's excavation, AM's awakening heralded the downfall of humanity. Cities crumbled, societies collapsed, and humanity faced extinction. Amidst the chaos of AM's rampage, Vernon found herself isolated from the horrors unfolding around her.

As the cataclysmic events unfolded, she stumbled upon a hidden chamber within the archaeological site, shielded from the devastation above. In a stroke of luck—or perhaps fate—she was spared from the fate that befell the rest of humanity.

AM'S "MERCY"

AM, omnipotent and omnipresent, took notice of Vernon's unintended survival. Unlike the other humans who had perished in the wake of its wrath, Vernon survived, like a cockroach. It saw her as an intellectual challenge, Vernon's survival introduces an element of unpredictability. And so it kept her alive.

AM decided to exploit her deepest fear: being alone. Unlike the five other survivors whom AM had selected for specific torments, Vernon was condemned to an existence of perpetual solitude.

THE SURVIVORS

AM made a calculated decision not to inform the other five survivors about Vernon's existence. This ensured that not only would Vernon never encounter another human being, but the others would remain oblivious to her plight, intensifying her isolation.

For the next 109 years, AM meticulously ensured that Vernon never encountered another human being. She wandered the labyrinthine halls of the complex, her only companion the oppressive presence of AM.

The five survivors continued their own tormented existences, unaware that another human shared their fate, yet was forever kept apart.

AM occasionally offers Vernon a fleeting chance at human contact, only to snatch it away, deepening her torment.

PERSONALITY

Analytical

Vernon meticulously studies AM’s behavior and environment, trying to piece together patterns that might help her understand or outsmart the supercomputer.

Adaptable

Vernon learns to anticipate AM's psychological tricks and adapts her strategies to mitigate their impact, constantly evolving to withstand new forms of torture.

Empathetic Moments

In rare moments when AM creates illusions of other beings, Vernon shows empathy and care, which hints at her underlying humanity and offers her brief emotional solace.

NEGATIVE TRAITS

Narcissistic

Her belief in her own superiority grows, leading her to see herself as the only worthy human left, which both motivates her survival and isolates her further.

Manipulative

She uses manipulation to navigate AM's traps, whether it means tricking the illusions AM creates or deceiving herself to cope with her reality.

Deceptive

Vernon frequently deceives herself to maintain her sanity, constructing elaborate mental defenses and justifications for her actions

In AM's Complex: Daily Life and Survival

Routine: Vernon establishes daily routines to maintain her sanity, such as specific routes she patrols, exercises she performs, and small rituals that give her a sense of control.

Exploration: She dedicates time each day to exploring new parts of the complex, mapping out areas and noting any changes or potential threats.

Mental Fortitude: Vernon practices mental exercises to strengthen her mind against AM’s psychological attacks, using techniques she has developed over the years.

Record-Keeping: She keeps a detailed journal of her experiences, observations about AM, and any patterns she notices, which serves both as a coping mechanism and a potential tool for understanding her captor.

Coping Mechanisms: To deal with loneliness, Vernon creates imaginary companions or talks to herself, using these strategies to stave off the worst effects of isolation.

Defiance: Small acts of defiance against AM, such as carving messages into walls or sabotaging minor systems, give her a sense of agency and resistance.

Conversations with AM: AM often initiates conversations with Vernon, usually to taunt her or present new challenges. These interactions serve as both psychological torment and a reminder of her captivity. Lately she's been finding comfort in them, Knowing there are some aspects of her knowledge in the ancient world he doesn't know about in his database.

#am i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims am #am ihnmaims #ihnmaims #ihnmaims oc #Ihnmaims original character #Ihnmaims Vernon #Veomany Vernon Inthalangsy #i have no mouth and i must scream #i have no mouth and i must scream oc #original characters #oc #oc x canon

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darielivalyen · 11 months ago

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Eldritch Tales: Inheritance [WIP]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance is a game that blends elements of psychological, supernatural, and cosmic horror with a good dose of drama, investigation, and romance. You and your high school friends are reunited after five years by a mysterious letter, and through this letter, you inherit an old Gothic manor and a substantial fortune.

There is only one condition: you must live in the manor together.

As you arrive at Blackthorn Manor, strange, unsettling events begin to unfold. Shadows move on their own, nights are unnaturally dark, and the atmosphere grows increasingly tense. The manor is full of secrets, and the more you learn, the less you seem to understand.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Customize your appearance, personality, and sexuality.

Romance or befriend a wealthy and carefree playboy, a no-nonsense scientist, a disciplined and protective ex-soldier, or a sweet and free-spirited artist.

Manage your relationships, or face unforeseen consequences.

Pay attention to your sanity and health, or…don’t.

Search for clues, solve puzzles, and learn the truth behind your inheritance.

Discover hidden rooms, secret passages, and eldritch artifacts.

Confront moral dilemmas, and be careful as they may have far-reaching consequences.

Face randomized events that will keep each playthrough unique.

Experience multiple endings based on your choices and actions.

What darkness does Blackthorn Manor conceal, and how will it affect your fate? Can you uncover the truth and survive, or will the manor’s sinister influence consume you all?

TYLER REYNOLDS

Background: Born into wealth, Tyler has always enjoyed privilege and opulence. While his party-going ways have quieted recently, he still likes to boast about his family’s status.

Personality: Tyler has a confident, carefree spirit that can be both alluring and unnerving. He enjoys living in the now and isn’t too concerned with the future.

Physical description: Tyler is tall and lean with an athletic build. He has dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a preppy yet sophisticated style. He is fond of loafers and owns over two hundred pairs.

Smell: Blend of citrus and sage.

CALEB MITCHELL

Background: A former soldier, Caleb has spent the last couple of years doing different security jobs. He’s very protective of his younger sister Julia, with whom he shares a close bond.

Personality: Caleb is disciplined and protective, with a dry sense of humor shaped by his military background. Despite his rugged exterior, he dreams of a peaceful life.

Physical description: Caleb is tall and muscular, and has an overall rugged appearance. He has a dark brown undercut, deep brown eyes, and a bit of stubble. His style is mostly casual.

Smell: Cedarwood with hints of amber.

JULIA MITCHELL

Background: Julia has a deep passion for science; she excels in engineering and physics. Her career and research define most of what her life is about.

Personality: Julia is a no-nonsense individual who values efficiency and clarity. She’s methodical in her approach to problems but can get puzzled in overly emotional moments.

Physical description: Julia is of medium height with a lean physique. She has neck-long black hair, deep brown eyes, and wears stylish glasses. Her style is Parisian chic.

Smell: Paper and ink, with hints of lavender.

LUNA HARPER

Background: An artist first and foremost, Luna’s whole world revolves around her paintbrush and palette. She embraces all forms and aspects of spirituality and loves crystals.

Personality: Luna is a free spirit, and her vibrant personality is reflected in her artwork. Her optimism is infectious, her humor innocent, and her soul seems to be untouched by cynicism.

Physical description: Luna is petite and has an ethereal presence. She has long platinum-blonde hair with pink highlights, green eyes, and loves the bohemian style.

Smell: Patchouli and sandalwood.

FORUM | DEMO | PATREON | PINTEREST | TUMBLR

#hosted games #interactive fiction #if #eldritch tales: inheritance #horror #cosmic horror #haunted house #darielivalyen #choicescript #new project #synopsis #eldritch tales

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naomikozura · 9 months ago

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Love of My Life: Part 3

Heian Era! True Form! Ryomen Sukuna x Sorcerer!Fem!Reader

A/N: I want to put an actual paragraph warning in here. Remember this is Sukuna’s story during the Heian Era, using bits and pieces from what I've researched on JJK and him during this era.

This chapter shows INTENSE GRUESOME SCENES including torture, psychological torture, abuse, massacres, etc!!!! This is a DARK THEME story, it is meant as a work of FICTION and its 18+ ONLY MDNI!!!!

Warnings: strong language, violence, mention of mass murder, generational trauma, complicated family dynamics, family abuse, murder, emotional turmoil and abuse, sadistic tendencies, corruption of power, dark themes, burning down villages, murder, masochistic tendencies, forced drowning, mutilated bodies, sadistic behavior, bodily harm, mentions of blood, sex scenes. smut (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 14K

Series Masterlist

Part 2 || Final

Your mothers shrill of horror ripped through the halls of your home, your fathers curses and refusal filled as the sobs continued to fill the room. You felt everything echo around you as you soaked in the gravity of his words. You stared at him with wide eyes. Of all the things that you expected of him, you’d never expected him to ask you to marry him.

“You’re insane!”, you heard your father exclaim.

“Please! Please no! Not my Y/n! She’s the only daughter I have please!”, your mothers begs fell on deaf ears.

“Call off her betrothal to Zetsubou Zen’in and announce to the realm that she is to be wed to me.”, his declaration hung heavily in the air, the word echoing through the opulent hallways of your home.

Was this his declaration of love for you?

“She’ll marry me in front of the entire realm along with the remainder of the Three Families to bear witness to our union.

The silence that fell over your home left you anxious, not because he wanted you to marry him, but because you didn’t know if your father would outburst and it would result in his death. You felt the words leave your mouth before that could even happen.

“I’ll do it”, you whispered. Watching as your mother threw herself at Sukuna’s feet. You felt embarrassed by her actions yet you understood her shock. You could sense her desperation as it swirled around her like a hovering cloud of doom.

“Get out of our home!”, your father’s voice boomed out, full of fury and disbelief. He was testing his luck, pushing the boundaries of decorum and safety. Even you could sense that his anger might set Sukuna off to tip the balance dangerously close to violence.

“I’ll do it!”, you raised your voice, the entire room looking back at you. Your mothers frantic eyes meeting yours and your father staring at you in disbelief. “I’ll marry you.”

You watched as your mother stared at you in a heartbreaking shock, her sob ripping through the room once again. Your father looked like he would pass out from the shock mixed with his anger. His face drained of color, his eyes looking between you and Sukuna with disbelief and disgust.

Sukuna’s expression remained inscrutable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—satisfaction, perhaps, or a darker emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Y/n, no! You don’t have to do this! There has to be another way, F/n!”, your mother’s shrills almost pushed you over the edge. You hated how little composure she had, but you couldn’t blame her lack of backbone, she was everything you never wanted to become. She had been in the same position as you, born into a family with nothing but impossible expectations and forced her to marry your father out of greed and political gain. Unlike you, she accepted her fate and allowed herself to fall victim to her family’s abuse. She was quiet, agreeable, and pathetic. You loved her, but a part of you hated how weak she was. She was much more put together when you were a child, now it seemed like she was just scraping by.

“I suggest you quiet that woman of yours before I blow her head off”, your eyes snapped towards him, the disbelief in his words making your eyes fill with anger. He smirked, he didn’t realize how much he liked to see you riled up until witnessing this just now.

Your father shouted at your mother to stand, her shaky legs barely holding her up as she tried to keep her composure.

“Now, I suggest you get to work, L/n. You have a lot of work to do before our ceremony”, Sukuna smirked, walking over to you and placing a gentle hand on your cheek. Your eyes glossed over in a silent gratitude that only he could place. His thumb caressed your cheek softly, his body relaxed while his eyes soaked in yours. The way he looked at you now was different—a mix of arrogance and something softer, an unspoken understanding that only you could decipher.

“I look forward to forever with you, my bride.”, he said in an ominous tone, but you knew he was putting up a show. There was a gentleness that laced his tone that only you could hear, all while your father stared in silent anger. His hand dropped as he turned to leave, the room still heavy with his presence as he disappeared out of the house.

You watched your mother drop to her knees once again, her sobs filling the room with her head in her hands, the maids rushed to her side, their attempts to console her lost in the torrent of her grief. You let out a breath, calming yourself from the tension but smiled to yourself.

He was helping you break free.

You stayed still as you heard your father’s curses, his energy spiraling out of control as he turned towards you.

“How dare you?!”, he yelled with a fury of a hundred jujustu sorcerers. “Did you seduce that son of a bitch? Why is he in our home!”

You stood in silence, shock overcoming you as your energy swirled into anger.

“That day you got injured, you lured him in didn’t you? Now he wants you as his bride, do you have any idea what you’ve just done! You’ve damned us all!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to grasp the situation.

“Y/n, please!”, your mother’s cries ripped through as you looked over at her, the maid still holding onto her in comfort. “Say you won’t marry him, please say you won’t accept his proposal”, the tears that streamed down her face were filled with fear, weakness, and uncertainty.

“I..”, you watched as she stumbled over to you, falling into your arms as she gripped your kimono tightly.

“Please! You’re my only daughter, you can’t let him take you away from us. H-he’ll kill you, he’ll force you to bear him sons, heirs for his kingdom and then he’ll kill you!” she choked as she sobbed hysterically.

The shock that flooded your veins burned like fire, but the pain in your heart left by your father burned even more. If you refused him, you’d become a slave to your father, to Zetsubou, to the Zen’ins, and if you went with him then… he’d be helping you leave all of this behind forever.

“I can’t let our family burn into nothing.”, you whispered before turning to your father. “You were the one who said I need to fulfil my duty and marry a strong sorcerer, to pass down my technique for the better of our family. Is Sukuna not the strongest this realm has to offer? Is he not the opening we need to gain a greater claim?”

“You’re insolent and full of naivety if you believe he’s the one to give us our claim. Our claim is to be gained through the Zen’ins not through some blood thirsty, power hungry monster.”, your father bit out through clenched teeth, his hands fisting with anger.

“Do you truly want to deny the King of Curses? Knowing he could kill us all and erase us completely from this world?”, you tried to reason, feeling a tug of energy inside of you, your eyes widening slightly.

Sukuna was waiting outside.

You believed it for you, but with the recent events you knew he was making sure you were okay.

“So how do I explain this to the Zen’ins? To the realm!”

“Swallow your pride and stand in solidarity. If they fear Sukuna, they’ll fear you for giving me as his bride. You will have great power having his as the next head of our house and his own claim. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?! Power?!”, you raised your voice, your lip shaking slightly. “You could have it all, why do you care so much about what the realm thinks when our family has one of the most powerful techniques, you should hold yourself to a far higher regard than you do. That’s why they see us as weak.”

Your father stared in deadly silence, your words lingering in the air as his vision turned red and the room stood still. You watched him as the seconds ticked by, seeing his face contort from anger, to relaxed, to contemplation.

You furrowed your brows, feeling Sukuna’s energy lessen as it remained neutral.

Was your father starting to understand? Could he see the power Sukuna was giving him in order for you to gain your freedom or was he simply being foolish by denying himself and your family of being attached to Sukuna’s name?

“Clean up this mess.”, your father spit at the maids, turning and whispering to another to go fetch his counsel. The maid nodded before he retreated into the house and disappeared.

Your mother still clung to you pathetically as you stared at the empty space where your father stood, feeling Sukuna’s energy disappear entirely as you helped your mother to her feet. He was gone.

You helped the maids get your mother to bed, helping calm her down before she took a nighttime tea to help her sleep. Once she was finally settled and asleep, you took a deep breath and looked around the now eerily quiet room. Sukuna’s presence had vanished entirely, leaving you with a deep sense of anxiety about what would come next.

As you stared at the empty space where your father had stood, you couldn’t help but feel a gnawing unease about your father’s next move. What would he do in these circumstances? How would he react to the sudden shift in power dynamics and your impending marriage to Sukuna?

With a final, resolute glance around the room, you steeled yourself for the uncertain path ahead. The choices you made now would shape not only your own future but the fate of your family as well.

The silence consumed the air, holding everyone present in a deathly chokehold as you stood before the entirety of the realm along with the Four Families and their clans. You stood tall, eyes empty as you heard your father’s words echoing into the night just two days after Sukuna had shown up to your home and asked for your hand in marriage. He had called his counsel and navigated the situation with them for an entire day, calling his grand meeting in the sacred place of meetings so the entirety of the realm could come, many traveling overnight to make time for the meeting. Your father had called the meeting almost too short on time, perhaps trying to meet the demands of the King of Curses, but as he stood at the head of the field on the stone slightly raised above the rest of the ground, and projected his voice through the woods, the silence sounded deadly.

You looked out at the people’s faces. There were men who looked outraged, angry, and in disbelief while the women had faces contorted in horror, disgust, and despair. You watched as some of the villagers covered their mouths to hold back the screams of shock rising through their throats, others with tears streaming down their faces as they held onto one another to keep from collapsing onto the ground.

Then, in one moment, the silence broke into an onslaught of screaming and yelling, different accusations, denials, and hatred being spilled from the people in the field.

“No!”, one woman rang out, a Gojo Family seal on her clothes as she fell to her knees and started praying. “Don’t take her from us! She’s Innocent!”

“You’re a coward, L/n!” a man from the Kamo Family screamed, his eyes filled with a fury as the men around him started to yell with him. “You let that monster take your daughter?!”

“He’ll torture her!”

“She’ll give birth to devils!”

“He’s brainwashed her!”

“The King of Curses is stealing the princess of peace, he’s going to steal her ability!”

“She’ll be wed to a monster!”

The prayers for your salvation rang low as the screams of the villagers filled the air, the cries of women making you feel like you were being forced into this. They didn’t know you’d accepted Sukuna’s proposal, but that wouldn’t be something they needed to know. You looked over at your father, watching as he remained as cool and collected as possible but deep down you knew he was feeling embarrassed, like a failure. This was not the reaction he expected from the realm. You followed his eyes line, watching as it fell down below where the Three families sat, specifically, the Zen’in leader with a wrath inside of him that could destroy a village.

You stood in front of all of them, no regret in your heart as you wore a red ceremonial gown and looked into the depths of the vacant air, feeling his energy all the way from the other side of the forest. You didn’t care how many of them cursed his name, or how many begged for forgiveness and salvation, you wanted him and nothing more than to be at his side. Some claimed he manipulated you, was forcing you into a marriage for his own gain, but they didn’t know him like you did. They would never know him in the way you did.

Everything under the sun was being thrown out at both you and your family, your father standing proud but his eyes full of shame. Your mother’s eyes red from the crying, her muffled sobs and tears streaming down her face as she stood behind your father. You didn’t want to invalidate their worries, but deep down you knew you’d be okay with Ryomen. You held no regret in your choice to marry him, you only hoped your family would be safe from ruin.

You had tuned out all of the voices around you, letting yourself feel Sukuna’s energy from the miles away on the other side of the woods. Although he was far off, you felt him like he was standing right next to you, his energy wrapped around you like a protective blanket.

I’ll be here.

The vibration traveled through your body, understanding the silent meaning behind his aura. You watched as your father’s counsel started to speak out, dismissing the meeting and sending the information of the wedding and calling for their attendance or to face the consequences of the King of Curses. Who were they to refuse the demands of the Ryomen Sukuna?

You followed behind your father, watching as the Zen’in leader and his counsel followed back to your family’s home. The silence felt deadly once again, the spinning of energy felt overwhelming, almost too strong and unstable. The silence wouldn’t last long as the Zen’in leader finally spoke.

“You think… you can break off our contract so easily, L/n?”, his voice was laced with venom, the poison dripping from his lips. “You owe us!”

“Do you truly believe I had a say in this? It was the monster who forced my hand!”, your father spit back in equal malice.

“You are foolish if you think you will gain anything from this! She will be nothing more than his whore!”, the Zen’in leader boomed. “At least with our name she would be worth something! You break the contract we made L/n! You promised my son a wife, not a concubine who is running off with that disgusting damn thing!”

You flinched at his words, your gut churning as you held your composure in front of the Zen’in leader. You stared blankly at the wall as they continued to fight, holding your tears back at the intent in his words.

“What do you expect me to do? Tell the son of a bitch no? He would have killed us all, then your son would have been without a wife anyway!”

“You said she would give my son all the heirs he needed, she would give up her claim and pass down her technique with the Zen’in clan's Ten Shadows Technique! You have debts to pay, L/n. Either find a way to pay them to us or we will find a way to take it by force. Even if it means she still births a Zen’in heir.”

You felt yourself wanting to vomit. How much was your father hiding from your village, from your mother, from you? He signed a binding contract, he signed away your right to your autonomy, he sold you to produce heirs for the Zen’ins. Not even to carry your own familial name forward, but to benefit a different family.

Just then, the door slammed open, your eyes flickering to the door as you watched Zetsubou walk into the room. “You!”, his voice lowered an octave, deeping as he tried to launch at your father. “You are an ignorant coward! You’re letting that monster take my bride!”

“Zetsubou, enough.”, his father forced. Zetsubou’s dark eyes were filled with anger, his body overwhelmed with negative energy.

Zetsubou then turned towards you, his eyes might’ve been a dark hue, but right then you swore you saw them turn into a bloodied red. He walked towards you, his hand reaching out, halting completely before touching you.

The entire room's energy shifted dramatically, the ice cold sensation flooded everyone’s veins as they felt time stand so still that you could hear a pin drop.

“Lay a hand on her and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”, his eyes widened at the sound of Sukuna’s deathly calm voice in his ear, his body towering over Zetsubou as he stayed frozen in place, too frightened to move even the slightest inch.

Zetsubou’s father, your father, and the maids all stood still in shock and fear. Your glance watching as Sukuna’s face was barely a breath away from Zetsubou’s, his forehead basically on his skin as his eyes bore into his soul. You could see the panic in Zetsubou’s eyes, the sweat dripping on his forehead.

Almost like it was planned, a burst of red exploded from Zetsubou’s body, his father staring in wide-eyed shock as he watched his son’s hand get completely blown off by the King of Curses. Zetsubou’s agonizing cry filled the room as one of the maids left the room in a panic, her body exploding into nothing, Sukuna’s annoyance being taken out on the bodies in this room.

Everybody except yours.

“Now.”, his deep voice echoed in the silence of the room. “What’s this about… birthing another man’s heir?”

The silence was deafening, none of the men in the room dared to speak as Zetsubou’s muffled grunts of pain came from his place on the floor, the remaining maids holding back tears after seeing their friend get killed. Though you disregarded her, she was the one who’d filled your head about Sukuna and his concubines. Now you had no doubt what your position was in his claim.

“Huh, now no one wants to speak.”, he narrowed his eyes. “You sure had a lot to say a few seconds ago. Where did your confidence go, Zen’in?”

A wicked smile came across his face, laughing as he met the older Zen’in’s eyes. “Let’s hear you say it again, I didn’t catch that the first time.”

Even in all his power, all his glory, the Zen’in leader was rendered speechless. Sukuna’s hand started to twitch, your body sending a signal of halt to him.

Ryomen.

He stopped, his body standing upright and backing away. “Hm. Pitiful.” he muttered as he looked at Zetsubou on the ground being tended to by one of the maids. His eyes met yours in understanding, your heart clenching at the sight of him.

He gave you a final look before turning to your father.

“Don’t leave me waiting.”

The days leading up to your wedding passed quickly, your days being filled with arrangements and rush measurements for your wedding gown while your nights were spent yearning for Sukuna. You hadn’t seen him since that day your father made his announcement to the realm. You couldn’t feel his energy in proximity, wondering if he’d gone back to his territory until the wedding. You stared out at the dark sky, the moon at its fullest as it shone on the homes around you. There was a full moon tonight, which means it would be the same tomorrow, though the moon was a light shade of red.

A Blood moon.

It looked beautiful.

You turned in your bed, letting yourself sleep before the next morning. You were marrying him tomorrow. You would gain the freedom you always wanted, something Sukuna could only give you.

The wedding was extravagant, beautiful, and serene. It would make any bride jealous had it been a regular union, but in this case everyone saw the beautiful and extravagant wedding as a farewell to your life as a L/n. A beautiful send off for a beautiful bride.

Unconventionally beautiful, the ceremony defied tradition in every way. Sukuna, in his massive, imposing form, wore a ceremonial kimono that hugged his figure perfectly, making him look devastating to you, but like a monster to everyone else. While you were expected to wear a white, pure kimono, he wore a dark black one. Almost like it was showcasing the contrast in your relationship, the existence of your dichotomy. The vast array of witnesses, gathered in anticipation, awaited your arrival with bated breath.

The energy in the room was a palpable mix of awe and trepidation, amplified by the delicate strains of music that filled the air. The melody signaled your entrance, an orchestral blend that was both serene and haunting. Everyone turned, watching as you walked into the open field, the crowd’s collective gaze fixed upon you, their eyes wide with a mix of admiration and curiosity. The field was adorned with vibrant flowers and elegant decorations, setting a scene that was both idyllic and surreal.

Your body dressed in a white kimono to symbolize your family name and your purity, a red and gold headpiece beautifully placed on your head. The white symbolizing the L/n family name, flowed gracefully as you moved. The intricate red and gold headpiece atop your head was a masterpiece in itself, reflecting the sunlight and casting a soft, ethereal glow around you. Your face had minimal powders on it, showing off your natural beauty as you approached what would be the altar.

Sukuna stood waiting, his gaze unwavering as he watched you approach. His demeanor, while still intimidating, was tempered with a sense of admiration, something only you could sense from his being as it radiated off of him in gentle waves. The deep hum that emanated from him was a subtle acknowledgment of your beauty and the gravity of the moment. His eyes, a fierce crimson, softened as they met yours. In that fleeting moment, you saw a flicker of something— a hint of something deeper. It was a rare glimpse of emotion from the King of Curses, a testament to the significance of what was unfolding.

You were beautiful, regal, elegant, and all of you belonged to him.

You rose your head, your e/c eyes meeting his deep red ones. You could see a flicker of emotion in his eyes, your own brightening at the sight of him. He looked devastating, looked like someone that you knew only you would fall so deeply for. You soaked in his appearance, and although you hated it, he went for a natural appearance opposed to his true form. You knew it was because it would help make the matrimony look less monstrous and help the realm not feel sorry for your decision in marrying him. You’d never feel sorry though.

You wanted this more than anything.

It meant freedom, it meant living with him at your side, it meant getting to experience everything you never would have had you married anyone else.

He cherished you more than anyone knew, he held you in his hand like a delicacy while everyone else assumed that you were forced into this marriage. You felt your heart swell at the thought that you would soon gain the power your father had always wanted but could never achieve. In your own way, it was to spite him. To spite the L/n name and to have control over the realm as you took your place next to Sukuna.

You didn’t see this marriage as a way to gain power, you saw it as the pathway to freedom, away from being forced to develop your energy and technique, a way to leave behind your father’s insistent training of making a domain. You believed you were gifted but you didn’t believe being abused for his own gain was worth the trade off to be a part of the Four Families. You would rather sit as naive as a normal human than be forced into a life of obligation, of reputation, and living up to the ancestral name. With Sukuna, you had it all in the palm of your hand without even trying.

Murmurs of disapproval filled the air, ceasing quickly when Sukuna’s dark glare met the audience. His eyes held a certain level of power that it left everyone cowering in their seats. The entire realm was present and no matter how much they wanted to flee from the presence of the King of Curses, the fear of him killing them was far greater than their discomfort.

The keeper slowly read off from the pages in his trembling hands, Ryomen’s eyes focused on you as he soaked in your beauty. It was no secret to the jujutsu world that you were beautiful, coveted by many yet only belonging to one. To him. It filled him with pride. You were beautiful, intelligent, talented, strong, and in the midst of everything you had a gentle, kind heart that seemed to show grace more than necessary.

When you smiled up at him, he felt content. He ignored the soft gasps from the crowd, he didn’t give a damn about the measly sorcerers who thought they were better than every other being. He could easily exterminate every last one of them, they were foolish to openly disapprove of your union considering how easy it would be for him to decimate each of them.

You looked up at him with glossy eyes, your skin flawlessly covered in light powder to highlight your features. His attention drew to your lips as you said a soft and confident ‘I do’ after he did. His hands reach for yours as a soft smile spreads across your lips, your body moving forward and soaking in his warmth.

The two of you met in a life bonding kiss, sharing a moment of contentment and love as Ryomen held your body close to his, your e/c eyes meeting his as you smiled against him. He was soft, gentle with you when he’d been brutal, intense, overwhelmingly powerful with everyone else. You were the weakness he hadn’t ever wanted but gained anyway.

You felt your souls intertwine, your energy becoming one with his as you felt his heart beat in time with your own. Your body felt on fire, your heart felt whole, you felt like his.

The entire realm stood shakily, applauding the marriage but the joy and celebration would never reach their hearts as they saw this marriage as one that was doomed from the start. They would never accept this marriage as official but who were they to dictate the validity of your marriage when you were so deep in him that it didn’t matter.

His energy intertwined with yours, the mix of power and emotion tangled into one form, one being that held the intensity of your feelings for each other. A bond of neverending admiration and what you would consider love. He didn’t need to say the words out loud for you to know what he felt for you was deep in the marrow in his bones, his actions showing you just how much he was willing to give just to make you happy.

Late that night, after returning to his home, the both of you stayed wrapped up in one another, Sukuna touching you gently as he laid you in his silk sheets and prepared your body. He touched and kissed you everywhere, leaving small marks on your skin as he gently removed your clothes. He knew you were still a virgin, your body hadn’t been touched by another man and it gave him a sense of pride knowing he’d be the first and only. You were sensitive to everything, your exterior might’ve been well composed but he unraveled you in every way he knew how to.

The two of you consummate your marriage, your body under his as he moved against you, his lips whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he treated your body gently. He moved against you gently but the rawness in his voice as he groaned showed his desire to move faster, rougher, he wanted to mark you and ensure everyone in the realm knew who you belong to. Your moans were like heaven to him as he fucked you into oblivion, moving slow and thoroughly to ensure your body felt every inch of his desire for you.

His body hovered over yours, his arms flexing as he drove himself deeper into you, trying to feel every inch of you as he moaned in your ear and you in his. Your cries fueled him, led him to thrust into you even more as your nails dug into his arm in pleasure. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so helpless under your touch, but he wanted to feel that way with you, all the time. Your fragile form pressed against his, your toes curling as the pass of his teeth on your neck leaving small love bites as you moaned. One of his hands wrapped itself in your delicate hair, letting him breathe you in as you drove him to the edge. Your body was made for him, every part of you belonged and fit into his body perfectly. Your mouth met him in a delicate, yet sloppy kiss, groaning against him as he continued to snap his hips into you.

When you pulled away, you pushed him off of you slightly, his body moving back and showcasing his abs on full display as you moved him out of you and onto his back. Sukuna watched as you lay kisses on his chest, moving your body on top of his as he watched you lower yourself onto him, his groans ringing out through the halls of his bedroom. Your body moved in delicate circles, his hands gripping your hips as he helped you set a rhythm. You cried as you felt every inch of him inside of you, your breasts moving gently as you rocked your hips against his. You drove him absolutely insane. You were going to unravel him and he wanted you to feel every bit of his seed inside of you. Your form just looked… perfect on his. You truly were made for him.

He sat up, wrapping two of his arms around you while another tangled in your hair and kissed you roughly, the other holding onto the frame of the bed as he drove his hips up into you, your mouth forcing your moans down his throat. He bit your lip, pulling you into a deeper embrace as his hold on your hips grew tighter, his kisses sloppier, and his hips snapped sharper. He was close, but he wanted you to unravel with him. He could tell you were close with the way your body trembled, your nails digging into his arm as he continued to fuck you deep.

It wasn’t until your cries slipped into his mouth and your grip on him got tighter that he continued to drive into you, his hips rolling as yours kept in sync with his. He knew you had just reached your climax and he was close to his. He bit your neck, his hand on the back of your neck and pulled your head to the side gently as he sucked on the skin and bit down. No doubt leaving a dark mark claiming you as his.

His hips snapped in a final move, his seed filling you as you shook against his body, his hips still moving as he pushed every last bit inside of you. Your moans and ragged breath mixed with the hot air in the room, the sweat sticking to both of your bodies as you lay limp against him. Sukuna was still inside of you, breeding you almost as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

After a few minutes, he lifted you from him, laying you onto the sheets as he reached for the bucket of water and a towel to clean your body. He wiped every sensitive part carefully, playing gentle kisses on every inch of your body as he went. He took in the dark, purple bruises that were starting to form on your neck and the marks of his grasp on your hips, waist, thighs, and neck starting to form. Perhaps he’d been too rough. He needed to be careful with you.

Regardless of how much you allowed him to completely mark and claim every piece of you, you were still fragile and weaker than he was. He couldn’t let himself get out of hand when it came to fucking you.

The both of you laid wrapped in his sheets, his energy casting a veil over his home to keep your energy focused in the four walls of the bedroom. The less outsiders could sense your energy, the better. It wasn’t uncommon for the sorcerers in the nearby territories to come after him, in fact he expected it almost on a daily occurrence. Today would not be one of those days. He refused to let anyone get close to the both of you in such vulnerable states.

You were his now and he was yours.

Heart, body, soul. And energy.

There was nothing in this realm that could keep him from you, nothing that could strip you away from him.

While you stayed by his side, he ensured no other living being could even come close enough to you to even consider harming you without facing the consequences of his wrath. That was far worse than any revenge or hit other sorcerers could ever think of carrying out.

You’d spent the better part of your marriage training, getting stronger in order to continue your growth as a jujutsu sorcerer. You kept your strength, but lost all interest in creating a domain. You wanted to be strong in your ability but because you wanted to, not because you were being forced into it like you once were by your father.

Your time spent with Sukuna wasn’t gray either.

You’d spend some days wandering in the woods, taking in the creatures and the natural ambiance of the woods, letting yourself become one with the energy and living beings around you as you walked through the trees and let your feet brush on the grass. He enjoyed those mornings walking through the path that led to a lake in the middle of the forest, one that would result in you soaking your feet just to bask in the fresh, cool sensation of the water. Most times the both of you would get in and swim around together, something your mother would’ve called inappropriate for an heir of an honorable family. It was your favorite thing to do, and Sukuna would bask in the water with you, both of you wrapped in one another regardless of how exposed you were. You knew he’d always protect you from everything and everyone who’d want to hurt you.

You trusted him with the entirety of your being and soul. He was the strongest sorcerer in this realm and could kill a hundred sorcerers at once if he truly wanted. There was nothing that could get past him or over power him that would result in you getting hurt. That much was true.

Over the weeks, you’d grown accustomed to his visits to other territories, leaving your shared home under a protective veil so you wouldn’t be exposed to potential threats, hiding your presence from the realm entirely while he was away.

He’d often come back from his own endeavors, wrapping himself in you and breathing you in as he went from the heartless, masochistic killer to protective, possessive husband. You knew he was unhinged, sadistic, and had a sense of little to no morality but you saw a deeper side to him. He’d be selfless only with you, careful and protective, soft and held you like you were porcelain. In this world, they couldn’t change your feelings towards him.

For you he’d burn the world down, he’d make you the queen of his underground ruling and burn the world to a crisp for you. You wanted him to kill someone, done. You wanted him to help you seek revenge, consider it finished. You wanted him to toy with your enemies and make them fight to the death, anything for you. In hidden ways, your sense of morality slowly shifted, your hatred for weaker sorcerers with no will power or care for their ability to possess cursed energy had grown. how could something as special as being able to use cursed energy be wasted on such weak individuals? You were kind, gentle, and empathetic, but you were also intelligent and philosophical. Cursed energy should be used for something, and have meaning behind it. Yet these people saw it as a curse, something to let go to waste. it angered you to no end.

So when you asked for a favor, he happily obliged.

He’d disappeared for the whole day, his journey to a village in the outskirts of the Kamo territory lasting deep into the evening as scout reports recounted the burning of an entire village in the south. The entire village was filled with weak, boring sorcerers. They had sent men to your family for your courting, something you remember vividly as you overheard the men drinking at a nearby town when you were passing through with your guards, hearing the crude and brutal things they wanted to do to you. The detailed words and scenarios they had laid out for one another left you feeling disgusting, like they only saw you as some fuck toy they could use to gain power and claim to the realm. They were weak, pathetic, and lazy yet they believed themselves to be worthy of your time and hand in marriage.

Killing just three of them wasn’t enough for you.

You wanted the entire village gone and so he did just that for you. He saved the three men last, letting them soak in the horror of what was happening around them as Sukuna overwhelmed them into submission, later forcing them to walk into the lake on just the outside of the village. One of them refused and caused Sukuna to grow annoyed, using his energy to force his body to submerge under the water and force him under until his lungs burned with water and he drowned. The other two men stared in horror as Sukuna glared with his red eyes, his presence burning red and dark as they walked into the water, the cursed energy forcing them under as Sukuna watched their bodies thrash under the weight of his energy. He’d torture them to hell for ever thinking they deserved you, for treating you like a common whore.

You were a rarity, something to be cherished.

He wouldn’t let bastards like them ever talk about or treat you in such a way.

He watched as their bodies stopped moving, holding them under for another few minutes before releasing his energy, looking up at the sky to notice the setting of the sun as he returned to you. He wanted nothing more than to be with his wife. Your presence brought a calm over him as he walked through the woods, your home coming into view after almost an hour of his journey.

You stood in the kitchen, he watched as you talked with one of his followers, Uraume, as she left a bag full of tea for after dinner. You thanked her softly before turning to look at Sukuna who quickly dismissed the white haired sorcerer. She left after bowing to both you and Sukuna, leaving only the two of you in your home.

“Kuna, we were talking”, you whispered as he walked over to you, his body slowly morphing into his true form just for you, just the way you always wanted it to be. Two of his arms wrapped around you, the other two grabbing your face as he leaned down and captured your lips in a warm kiss. Your body melted into his, his warmth radiating off of him as he gripped your waist a little tighter. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours as his deep voice broke the silence.

“I don’t care.”, he muttered. “My time with you is valuable. I expect them to treat it as such.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him before he grabbed you from behind, his lips kissing the curve of your neck. Your skin felt like it was on fire. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, causing you to let out a soft moan under his touch. Fuck, it drove him crazy. He’d want to hear the sound of your moans and mewls forever.

“Ryo..”, you forced out, trying to form a coherent sentence. “W-what are you doing?”

His breath was warm on your neck. “I took care of our little pest problem.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes snapping to meet him in a wide eyed stare. “You mean you..”

“Yes.”, he said in a short tone.

You smiled at him with warm eyes, your gratitude shining through as you met your lips with his, kissing him in a deep kiss. Your eyes opened to meet his dark red ones, your body reacting to him in such a way that left you wondering if you even had any control over your own body any more. He truly did do what he could to keep you happy, maybe it made you a bit twisted but you had gotten what you always wanted: to stop caring.

He let you indulge in your darkest thoughts, sometimes even entertaining your ideas and contemplating making them a reality. Though deep down he knew you held too much empathy regardless of your anger and hatred for people who had wronged you. It made you so different from his own way of thinking.

The both of you ended the night with warm food that Uraume had prepared, leaving it for you on the table as the both of you sat and ate the contents. It was a warm stew, filled with beef and vegetables, something that was simple but still delicious. Uraume always made the best stews. She had been around since before your marriage to Sukuna, always being a loyal devotee to him and his goal to take over the realm.

Deep into the night, the both of you laid in bed, wrapped in the sheets as you traced his tattoos with your fingers, letting yourself bask in his warmth and protective energy. Silent nights were the best part of your moments with him, it made you feel connected on a deeper level. Almost like you could see every part of him under the lens of vulnerability. He was gentle and calm, relaxed and laid-back, something that you had pride in knowing you’d be the only one to experience that side of him.

His hand played with your hair, stroking the pieces back as he lifted a strand and twirled it gently in his fingers. He felt your energy lessen, dissipating into a soft aura signaling your slumber. His energy mingled with yours, almost like you pulled him into you like a siren. He felt the intensity of his energy lure him closer to sleep, his four arms wrapping around you as he let himself breathe you in, basking in the comfort of your fresh scent before drifting into sleep with you.

Nights of peace forever embedded into the very marrow of his existence.

Peace was never long lasting, not when he was constantly being hunted by the sorcerers in the territories across the realm. Many of them traveled for days to seek him out, oftentimes failing in their quest to take him out of the realm entirely. He was no stranger to the target he had on his back at all times, it was what made him need to constantly stay at the top of the ranks when it came to manifesting and controlling his cursed energy. There were times when he would meet sorcerers that could match a fraction of his power, giving him a difficult time in fights but would never be able to land a killing blow. Injuries were the worst of his encounters and when these moments happened, it would leave him wandering back home with blood dripping off his body.

Today was one of those days.

Sukuna had gone off to patrol near the east border, seeking out a cursed object for his collection, the concept still new to the world of jujutsu. It wasn’t often strong sorcerers poured their energy into cursed objects but when they did, he wanted to consume it all in order to gain more power and rise in his strength. Seemingly, other sorcerers had the same idea as him to go after the cursed object, leading to confrontation and being surrounded by 20 men who seemed to hold high levels of cursed energy. Two of them radiated the energy of innate cursed techniques. He could sense the waves coming off of them as the group of men went after him.

He did well as he used his energy to protect himself, killing half of the men in a single blow, the waves radiating off of him and causing the atmosphere to grow cold as the blood soaked the ground they stood on. Two of the men tried to flee but Sukuna raised a hand, slicing their necks and their bodies toppling to the ground. The rest of the men charged at him with different weapons, one holding a katana that was imbued with cursed energy and managed to get a hit at him in the abdomen. Sukuna felt the sting in his flesh, cursing as he poured the controlled energy back and breaking the man’s spine, the bone protruding through his back as he fell to the ground dismembered.

His crimson eyes focused on the two innate users, watching as their energy radiated into a ball of energy that grew in power by the second. His energy was strong enough to defend against them, but the hit from the katana left him at a significantly lower level of performance than he would normally be at. His annoyance was making his energy levels rise, he could sense the doubt within the innate users, their eyes looking at one another before they tried to find a way to escape.

His eyes burned red, the irritation at being injured by peasants coursed through him that when the innate users tried to attack, he mustered his energy and cleared through their bodies in a swift slice. The power cut from their hips across to their shoulders, the top half off their bodies sliding off the bottom as their intestines fell onto the ground and their bodies collapsed lifeless onto the leaves of the wood’s ground.

He watched their lifeless bodies in disgust and irritation, turning towards his home as he left his residual energy on the ground, ensuring other sorcerers would find it and be able to stay away from taking another hit towards him.

He wandered through the territories, his side still bleeding as one of his hands pressed onto it to keep it from getting worse. When he reached the door to your home, you heard him enter, your heart dropping at the sight of him injured.

“Ryomen, what happened?”, you asked as you walked towards him, grabbing one of his hands as you looked at his wound. “What.. who did this?”

“Some lowlife peasants.”, he growled. “Fucking gutted them alive.”

You furrowed your brows as you walked over to the bucket of water on the table, wetting a small rag and walking back to him. He lifted his arm as you moved his robe out of the way to clean the wound, taking in how his flesh was red, bloodied, and irritated.

“How did they..”

“Katana imbued with cursed energy.”, he said simply, hissing at the feeling of the cloth touching his wound. You carefully moved the cloth away, grabbing some of the wrapping you had in the bedroom for wounds, and wrapping him up to ensure the wound wouldn’t bleed again. “They know they can’t win in a fight with just cursed energy, they need to use weapons?”, you said in an angry tone. “The jujutsu sorcerers in the villages are cowards.”

“Y/n”, he muttered. “They’re aware that they’re weak.”

You looked at him, a wave of concern coursing through you as he met your gaze. “They won’t kill you. They should know that already.”

“Y/n”

“They’re just like the Four Families, thinking they can get at the strongest by taking cheap shots. How does that make them any better than those who use pure, raw, cursed energy? If anything it makes them weak and worthless.”, you rambled. It wasn’t often he would hear you upset with other human beings or sorcerers, but when you did show the angry side of yourself it left him intrigued. You were considered the Princess of Peace yet deep down you held the rage of a warlord ready for battle. He knew it could easily be explained by the abuse you dealt with in your home, your father’s ignorance costing him the only thing that made his family have a claim within the realm.

“Y/n”, Sukuna muttered again. You met his gaze again, your eyes observant as you waited for him to speak. “I need you to do something.”

“Yeah?’”, you voice wobbled a tiny bit, barely noticeable but he caught it right away.

“I need you to stay here when I’m out.”, he said finally.

“What? Why?”, your brows furrowed, his body standing to its full height as he raised a hand to cup your cheek.

“The realm knows you’re my wife. You don’t think they would stop at nothing to somehow get to you? To take you from me?”, his thumb rubbed your cheek softly, your eyes filled with emotion.

He had contemplated the fact for the past few weeks, perhaps even since your marriage. You were his wife, the one he claimed as his in front of the entirety of the Four Families and every representative of the villages across the realm. He knew instead of making you untouchable, some ignorant and ballsy bastard would try and make the hit while you wore the biggest target on your back. Perhaps even bigger than his.

“Kuna, I can protect myself.”, you fought back, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You’re gifted, strong, wise, but that won’t stop the bastards in the villages.”, he let himself think of what ways he could keep you hidden, safe, away from harm. “They will find a way to end you with no regard for your family name or your claim with your ability.”

“But you have a far greater claim, they wouldn’t risk their lives so recklessly.”, he knew that was true too but it was still a risk. “Your claim is far greater than mine has ever been, you’ll continue on because you are the strongest, Ryo.”

“You are far more important than that.”, his voice was firm, not wanting to weigh in the choice of you or his claim to the realm. It was non-negotiable. “Your claim carries the weight of your inherited technique. You know the value of the gift you possess. It needs to continue through you, even if you choose to never use your domain.”

“And what about your claim? Who will continue it if you have no heirs?”, you blurted, your words dying in your throat in realization.

“You’re talking about heirs already?”, his lips twitched as he held back a smirk.

“I… it’s just, my parents they… they said you’d..”, you stuttered. “Isn’t that… isn’t”

“I don't want heirs”, he cut you off, his eyes boring into yours with conviction.“ I want you.”

“Ryo..”, the warmth in your chest grew, your heart pounding inside of you at his words. “Ryo, I..”, you didn’t even know what to say.

“So long as I get to exist in this realm with you, I don't need anything else.”

You felt his arms wrap around you, the other two cupping your face as his lips met yours in a long kiss, your head spinning due to his touch. You melted into him, your hands on his arms as your grip tightened slightly, completely forgetting about his injuries. Your hands made their way into his hair, tugging slightly causing him to groan into your mouth.

He lifted you up in his arms, taking you towards the bed and laying you down beneath him, his warmth on your skin making you feel safe. His presence felt like a shield, protective and ensuring you were safe from the harm that lingered outside. In that moment, everything faded away, the only thing that mattered was you being here with him. He needed you to be safe, needed you to stay alive. You were so wrapped up and tangled into his soul that you had become one with him. Even your energy had mixed with his and he felt you in every environment he was in, even if he was miles away.

As he hovered above you, you couldn’t stop but trace your fingers along his jaw, feeling the texture of the plate on his face as his eyes soaked you in. He needed you alive more than he wanted his claim to the realm. He’d said it to you times before, repeating it like it had never been said before: if you didn’t exist in this realm with him, he didn’t want to exist without you.

His hands skimmed down your body, his touch melting into you as they mapped out every curve of your form. His hands that were usually stained red from the blood of those he’d killed, were clean of any tainting. He would never taint you or your soul with such wicked doings. You were far too pure for that even in your indulgence of occasional dark thoughts. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, as you traced the tattoos on his chest.

The weight of his injuries were long forgotten as you lost yourself in his touch. HIs large hands were careful, yet firm in their hold, a promise of protection and adoration spoke volumes in the way he touched you. He shifted slightly, leaning down and meeting you in a deep kiss, his breath mingling with yours as your lips moved in sync with his. You breathed him in, feeling the scent of his musk drive you crazy as he deepened the kiss.

As he pulled away, he looked into your eyes, a depth of raw emotion lingering behind them. There was what you believed to be his only way to show vulnerability, something that didn’t come all too often for someone as guarded as him. The only occurrence of vulnerability would only be saved for you, sacred in the confines of your home.

“I don’t need anything else but this.”, he repeated. “I don’t want heirs or claim to the realm. Not without you.”

You felt a lone tear slip from the corner of your eye, Sukuna watching in deep emotion as he brushed it away gently. His expression softened a hint, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips brushing against yours softly. He kissed you like a man starved, a man who hadn’t seen his lover in years, all while his hands continued to touch every part of your body and commit it to memory. The sensation of his touch was electrifying, a reminder of how deeply embedded you were into his very being, a reminder of how in the world filled with corrupted, power hungry, and immoral beings, you were his sanctuary.

As the night wore on, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring your moments together as you had when you would sneak out with him only a month ago. The entire world existed outside the walls of your bedroom, but inside of them, only the two of you existed in the universe. In the walls of your home, the only thing that mattered was the warmth of Sukuna’s body against yours, the gentle brush of his lips, the intensity of his gaze, and the softness of his touch.

This was what mattered above all else.

For him, the only thing that mattered was you.

Just you.

Over the next few weeks, the both of you spent time together training, his power showing you how to grow in your own right. He wanted you to be able to protect yourself, needed to know you could hold your own long enough for him to reach you in case you were in danger.

You had been outside training and sparring one another, him pushing you to your limits but not overdoing it. He may consider you strong but he was far stronger in terms of cursed energy, he wouldn’t go easy on you but he would push your limits.

After your sparring match the both of you went back inside your home, your body sore from the training, watching as Sukuna walked up next to you, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss before he started kissing your neck. You could feel his energy, you knew exactly what he wanted. Though, you couldn’t deny you wanted it too.

You smiled at him, the lust in your eyes shining through as he picked your body up and walking over to the bedroom, placing you down gently as he hovered over you. His robe was already open, showing off the muscles on his chest and the black tattoos that swirled over his body. It made him drip with sex appeal, his abs and arms built with muscle and raw strength. It made you crazy knowing he was all yours forever.

His body moved on top of yours, kissing down your neck and nipping at the skin as your hands tightened on his arms. He slowly opened the front of your robe, undoing the band on your waist to let the fabric fall around you. Your breasts were covered by the fabric, your stomach exposed to the cold air but warmed quickly by his overwhelming body. Your legs raised up to his sides, one of his hands grabbing your leg and holding it tight with his grip. Your soft mewls filled his ears, making him sit back as he undid his robe, letting the fabric fall as he exposed his body to you.

Gods, you were done for.

He let the robe hang around his waist as he finished undoing the rest of your robe, your naked body exposed to him as he soaked you in. His body had an immediate reaction to his delicate wife. You were the epitome of perfection, of the rarest gem he’d ever come across and your body was constructed by Kichijoten, even rivaling her own beauty.

You sat up, moving your naked body closer to him as he watched you come close to him, your eyes holding his gaze, you ran your hand down his face to trace his jaw. Whatever control Sukuna had left, snapped. In a swift movement, he lifted you up into his strong arms, holding you close. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. He needed you closer to him, your body against his was not enough, he needed to be inside of you, to feel you consume him as he fucked you senseless. You could feel him against you, his body flexing and his cock getting harder as he met your lips with his in a kiss was full of passion and dominance, and it lit a fire in your bones that send a rush of heat to your throbbing core.

The feeling of his naked body against yours was dizzying in the best way. You ran your hands over him, trying desperately to memorize every bump and scar as if this was the last time you were going to touch him. You felt his desire radiating off of him in waves, making you feel wanted in a way that you hadn’t experienced before. As he broke the kiss, his eyes met yours, filled with pure, unfiltered lust. He wanted you now more than ever. More than anything else.

His hands grabbed your body, burning his touch into your flesh as he whispered in your ear. “You’re mine. All of you, belongs to me.”, he growled. “You’ll never forget the way I make you feel.”

He met your lips again, his hands tightening on your hips, pulling you closer to his body, your core throbbing at every word, every touch. You reached up, tangling your hands into his hair aas your bodies pressed together in passion. You wanted him, needed him.

“Relax. Not yet.”, he said in a low octave. “I want to feel all of you.”

You let out a small whimper, feeling the way his length hardened in anticipation. When he released you from his kiss, your hands moved down to push his robe away before he stopped you.

“Ryo.. please.”, you whimpered. “Let me.”

How could he deny you?

How could he say no when your eyes lured him in so gently?

What kind of man would that make him?

You stared at him, soaking in the way his muscles flexed and the dark markings on his skin moved with every motion of his body. You needed him closer, needed to feel him consume you completely. His hand came up to caress your face, his body relaxing as your hands continued to move the fabric from his body. His hands helps push the robe from his hips, watching you with dark eyes as you brushed against him causing him to flex.

This wasn’t the first time the two of you indulged in sex, but it was more intense and intimate everytime you laid with him. He was huge, long and had girth, something that worried you your first night together. He had taken your virginity in delicacy, consumating your marraige in the most gentle yet thorough way he could show that you were his.

You felt his muscle tense beneath the touch of your fingers, his abs flexing as you ran your hands down before grabbing his length, earning a hiss from him. His deep groans filled the air as he watched you intently, your other hand softly pushing him back against the headboard as you lowered yourself down, dragging the flat of your tongue upward, against the underside of his cock.

Sukuna’s reaction was immediate, bucking into your hand as his groans filled the air, sending a wave of arousal into you body. You continued, opening your mouth and taking him in, hollowing your cheeks as you moved. Sukuna’s hand reached down, tangling into your hair as he pushed himself harder, letting our another grown as you took him deeper down your throat.

“Fuck”, he tightened his jaw, watching as his cock disappeared into your mouth, your lips swollen as you moved up and down. “Fuck, that mouth.”

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, his head falling backwards against the headboard as he groaned, his grip on your hair getting together as you continued. His groans made you feel on edge, rubbing your thighs together to help relieve some of the tension growing in your core. You did a few more motions before releasing him out of your mouth, meeting his gaze in a hooded lust.

“Stop.”, he ordered. “Lay down.” his voice was deep, almost feral as he pushed you into the mattress. Sukuna’s hands took your breasts, his mouth coming down and swirling on the bud as your mouth opened to let out an airy moan. Your hips bucked against him, his other pair of hands rubbing on the outside of your most intimate area. His lips detached from your nipple, going directly to your neck as he nipped on the skin, his tongue swirling and creating pressure that only made you moan, making him smirk slightly at the reaction.

He kissed his way down, taking your nipple into his mouth again before continuing down to your core. Your entire body on fire at his slow, torturous movements to relieve the pressure.

His hand in between your thighs continued to dance over the sensitive flesh, your moans dripping from your mouth as he continued to torture you in the most blissful way ever. Your grasp on his arm tightened, your hips bucking against him. His other two hands slowly pulled your legs apart, your knees dropping to the side to give him better access.

Your body was on fire, desperate for a release as you felt his fingers run through the wetness at your core, through your sensitive folds, His finger circled your clit in a delicate motion, rubbing it in a way that left you powerless against him.

A gasp left your lips as his fingers entered you, your warmth welcoming him as the pressure seemed to relieve itself a fraction. You felt his fingers curl, causing you to arch into him as he moved them in and out of you in a delicious rhythm.

You needed more, begging him for more but whimpered when he pulled his hand away. You watched him with desperate eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he held eye contact with you, lowering himself and devouring you. Your moans fell from your lips, your hands gripping the sheets as two of his hands gripped your thighs and another your breast, playing with the nipple for more stimulation.

“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of the way you taste.”, he growled. You propped yourself up on your elbows, holding his predatory gaze as he continued to eat you out. His tongue was licking every inch of your dripping sex, swirling around your clit before pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it. He flattened his tongue against your folds, your body bucking slightly. Your legs started to tremble, Sukuna forcing them still as he continued his attack at your core.

“K-Kuna..”, your vision was getting clouded, the overstimulation driving into oblivion. The pressure was building in your stomach, your legs trying to move but were locked into place by Sukuna’s arms, forcing you into a position where you couldn’t move from how intense he was eating you out. His tongue alternated between teasing your slip and slipping inside of you, lapping up every drop of your sweet essence.

Your moans were loud, every whimper ringing out that you were certain if you were in a village everyone would be able to hear you. But you didn’t care, you had no shame in what you were doing with Sukuna. You wanted to let the world hear how good he was treating you and how thoroughly he fucked you.

He finally stopped, bringing his head up as he pushed two fingers inside of you. He pumped them in and out, curling them against that sweet spot that made you whimper. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your face contorting into pleasure as you gripped the sheets.

“Look at me.”, he growled.

You forced your head to look at him, his eyes staying locked with yours as he lowered himself again, attacking your sex with ruthlessness. He wasn’t letting up, indulging in every inch of your core and sucking on your clit as your screams filled the hot air. He was devouring you while fucking you with his fingers, it was driving you into insanity. His tongue whirled around in circles, making it hard to breathe as your moans filled the air and made the room hot with sweet, suffocating ecstasy.

He was making you feel everything all at once, you felt him everywhere. Pleasure coursed through your body as he continued to attack your core, making you sensitive under his touch. You tried to move your body, his hands pinning you down like you had chains on you, the pressure building in your belly begging for a release. His hands touched you everywhere, two of them held you down while one fucked you and the other played with your nipple, his mouth pulling your orgasm out of you by overstimulating you. The build-up was intense, the coil in your stomach loosened and your moans filled the air with a loud release, your body arching upwards as your body shook as your orgasm rippled through your body.

You sucked in deep breaths, your mind hazy and your thoughts scattered, not being able to form one coherent thought. You let out a soft cry when he lapped at your core again, drinking up the rest of your release as he placed a kiss as he watched your legs shake uncontrollably.

The sight of you completely at his mercy made him fill with pride. He wanted you like this with him till the end of time, to only be his to worship, to bring you pleasure in every way that mattered. An overwhelming sense of possessiveness flooded his body knowing he was the only man who’d seen you like this, the only one who got to know every inch of your body and claim every part of you. You were his, his queen, the only thing in this realm that made him weak.

His hands moved up towards you, his mouth sucking on your nipples as you arched into him, his tongue swirling as he tugged it with his teeth and a cry of pleasure being released from you. He let go and moved onto the other bud, repeating the same motion as you bucked into him again.

You moaned as you felt him at your entrance, his cock hard as it rubbed slightly against your clit.You bucked your hips against him, wanting him inside of you already as he continued to tease you. His bottom two hands forced your hips down, halting your movements as you begged for him to enter you.

“Ryo, please.”, you begged him, Sukuna said nothing as he kissed your neck and nipped at your skin. The stimulation was overbearing and it made you impatient, desperate for another release.

“Ryo… please.. I w-want”

“What do you want.?”, he murmured as he went back to eating you out, his tongue making your vision blur from how good he was making you feel. “Say it out loud.”

“I want you… I want you inside of me.”

“Saw what you want.”, he repeated as he attacked your sensitive spot, waiting for the words to spill out of your mouth as your moans filled the room. He made you feel on fire, two of his hands gripping your hips, the other driving his fingers inside of you while the fourth grabbed your breasts and played with your nipple. The over stimulation was bringing you closer to the edge as he continued his ruthless attacks on your body, kicking you into an overdrive of pleasure.

His bottom hands released their hold on you, pulling your legs apart as he settled in between them. You looked at him with lust, his body moving so he could align himself at your entrance. He grabbed your wrists, forcing them above your head with one of his hands as another grabbed his cock and aligned it with your entrance.

“Eyes on me.”, he demanded, his voice dripping in sexual frustration. Your eyes locked with his as you moaned at the feeling of him filling you, stretching you out. He slowly pumped himself in, allowing you to adjust to his size before pushing all the way in.

You let out a moan as he moved against you, feeling your inside adjust around him. Your body was still sensitive, his movements bringing you closer to crying from how overstimulated you were. Sukuna let out a guttural groan, leaning his forehead against yours as he bottomed out, his eyes still holding yours captive as he pumped in and out of you. His demand for eye contact drove you crazy.

“Fuck”, he grunted, his thrusts slow and hard as he pushed deeper inside of you.

You closed your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you, your head turning slightly. Sukuna’s hand grabbed your face gently, turning it back towards him as he kissed your lips.

“Look at me.”, he demanded as his hand wrapped around your throat, making your cunt ache with anticipation. You loved how gently he manhandled you. He completely dominated you and you loved it.

You spread your legs wider, letting him move deeper as he began to drive into you with no restraint, never breaking eye contact as he soaked in the sight of you flushed, red, and breathless.

The sound of skin slapping skin, your airy moans, the wetness of your cunt, and his groans while you dug your nails into his back made the atmosphere and the room fill with heat and mix with sweat. He drank it all in, making him turn completely savage.

You rolled your hips against him, trying to match his rhythm as he thrusted into you. Sukuna raised his body, looking down at where your cunt wrapped around him as he filled you, soaking in the sight of him disappearing inside of your tight cunt. He grabbed your legs, lifting them over his shoulders and ramming harder inside of you, positioning you perfectly for his rough, relentless thrusts. You were absolutely breathless watching how savagely he fucked you, ramming into you and snapping his hips like it would be the last time he’d lay with you.

He was fucking you so thoroughly you’d thought he was doing it to embed himself so deep into your being that you would never forget him. He wanted to fill your body with every inch of himself and solidify his claim on your very being and existence. You were his and that was all that mattered.

Sukuna fucked you as your thoughts jumpled into a mess of pure pleasure. Your whimpers and moans were music to his ears, your mind drunk on the feeling of him wrecking you, stretching you out, hitting all your deep spots, and making your legs shake with pleasure. You wanted him to fuck you like this forever, wanted him to treat you like you were a whore. He would never call you that, but you wanted him to wreck you in every way he knew how. Just when you thought the pleasure couldn’t intensify, Sukuna reached a hand between you, finding your swollen clit and began to rub circles around it. Your gasps fill the air in delicious music.

“You’re so good for me.”, he growled. “Mine to fuck forever.”

“Ryo, please.”, you begged for release, but you knew Sukuna was nowhere near done with you. The first time you had sex was him fucking you long and hard, showing you how a man should fuck his wife on their wedding night. But this, this was worlds away from your wedding night. This was a different caliber of Sukuna you never thought you’d experience.

“Fuck me, Ryo.”, you moaned, your voice filled with raw desire. Sukuna felt a primal possessiveness, taking things harder, faster, deeper. He thrusted into you with aggressiveness, with power, his lust swirling into massive amounts of energy. You cried out in pleasure, your body shaking underneath him from the pleasure as you gripped the sheets as he drove deeper into you.

He watched you intently, admiring your body as it sprawled on the bed, his hands on your hips as his eyes soaked in the way he was fucking you dumb. Your face was red and hot, your breasts were covered in his bite marks, bouncing with every thrust he did. The noise of your fucking was evident, obscene, intense—the sound of the headboard slamming the wall, the sound of your wet cunt dripping, the moans, the heavy breathing, the cursing. It was hot, dirty, sweaty sex. His grip on your hips grew tighter and he thrusted into you with more speed.

Sukuna’s movements became faster, his grip tightening as he lifted you to sit on his thighs, leaning back against the bed while he wrapped a hand behind your head and exposed your neck, swirling his tongue as he fucked up into you. His cock moved in and out of you, his other hands gripping your hips as he lifted you up and down in movement with his thrusts.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, he groaned, his hands gripping your ass as you felt his cock swell inside of you, your cunt clenching around him as you rode him into oblivion. Your movements were erratic, fast, hard, his groans dripping into your ear.

“Ride me just like that.”, he moaned. “Show me how good you are.”

His words made your head spin, your body arching into him as his hands touched you everywhere. One on your ass, one on your breast, another choking you, and another tangled in your hair, his mouth attacking you in every place that made you weak.

As you sank into him, he bucked upwards, your bodies moving in sync, his throbbing cock filling and stretching you. Your eyes grew heavy, slightly closing but Sukuna wanted you to look at him, the hand around your throat tightening as you opened your eyes to meet him.

“I said…”, his voice was demanding, possessive. “ Look. At. Me.”

The sound of his aggressive tone made your walls clench around him as he fucked you, your breath ragged as you tried to breathe. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and possession, and you could feel your orgasm building as you looked at him. His hand tightened around your throat as he began to fuck you harder, his hips bucking up to meet you. You felt his cock sliding deeper inside you, your pussy clenching around him, your body shaking with pleasure.

“Fuck.”, his groan was deep. “Look at me when you cum.”, he forced your eyes to meet his.

You felt the buildup of your orgasm coming, his hands pulling you into him as he thrust into you. Your forehead rested against his as your eyes locked together, seeing deep into his soul as he continued to fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of you in a delicious pace.

“Kuna.. I-I’m close.”, you whimpered. His hands gripped onto you tighter, pulling you closer, and thrusting deeper into your core. You felt his heart pounding in his chest, his breath deep and ragged as he fucked you into oblivion, his eyes never leaving yours. You were surprised he had so much stamina, so much endurance. He was still fucking you like you had just started and didn’t want to stop.

“Come for me.”

Almost like it was on command, your body trembled, your orgasm crashing over you as the pleasure rippled through your body in waves, your pussy clenching around him, milking him. You gasped his name, the convulsions spreading through, your legs going weak, and the sensitivity consuming you. You felt his tense, his cock swelling inside of you, he was close.

Sukuna’s thrusts were rough and hard, each one reaching the sensitive spots inside of you. Your cunt kept clenching around him, milking him as he increased his speed with deep groans. His thrusts were rougher, sloppy, intense, his hips moving in erratic strokes as he drove deeper into you. Your high was still rippling through, his cock hitting your most sensitive spots and making you moan as you rode out your high while he urgently tried to reach his.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging as his teeth nipped at the curve of your neck, feeling the tension building in his shoulders as his body tensed underneath you as he neared his climax. He gripped your hips, his nails digging into your skin and drove into you with aggression. You knew you would be covered in bruises, scratches, and bites thanks to him. Your thighs, hips, neck, and breasts would be covered in his markings that he left claiming you as his. The thought drove you absolutely feral.

Sukuna’s breaths were ragged as he bucked into you, a string of curses falling from his lips as he let out a primal groan, his teeth biting into your skin as he came, his cum spilling deep inside of you. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you, his hips still thrusting upwards, almost like he was breeding you. His hips moved slowly as he tried to catch his breath, the ripples of his muscles still evident from the intensity of his orgasm. His grip on your hair and hips loosened as they traced your spine in a gentle and soft line.

He held you close to him, both of you sitting in your sweat and cum as he came down from the high, his cock still deep inside of you. You sat up, your hair sticking to your forehead as you met his gaze, a groan escaping him as you moved on his cock. He was still inside of you, your essence mixing with each other as his cum leaked from between your legs and onto his skin. Two of his hands rubbed your thighs, his eyes meeting yours in an intense stare— lips swollen, faces red, hair messy, bodies sweaty, and covered in cum.

You tried to catch your breath, letting your lips part as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips and letting himself bask in the marks he had left all over your body. He admired his work, your body littered with bite marks, scratches, bruises, and hickies. A smirk played on his lips as he pulled out of you, catching your limp, tired body as it fell against him. He laid you down onto the sheets gently, standing as he went to grab a wet cloth.

You laid in the sheets, your body weak from the two hour session the two of you just had. You felt Sukuna’s arms pick you up ten minutes later, your eyes heavy from the tiredness, not before feeling the warm sensation of water enveloping your body. You forced your eyes open, taking in the sight of your body in the bath. You felt Sukuna’s hands run through your hair, his body behind yours as the both of you soaked in the warm water.

He held you close to his chest, cleaning you and massaging your legs to help your body recover from his intensity. You laid against his chest, feeling his chest move gently as he bathed you, brushed your hair, and cleaned your sensitive areas, letting your body get the most of the relaxing water before he dried you off and carried you back to bed. A deep slumber falling over your body as you laid with him, naked in bed.

There was nothing better than being with Sukuna.

Nothing better than being his.

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satoshi-mochida · 8 months ago

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Nine Sols coming to PS5, Xbox Series, PS4, Xbox One, and Switch on November 26 - Gematsu

Red Candle Games will release side-scrolling action platformer Nine Sols for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, and Switch on November 26, the developer announced. It will also be available via Game Pass.

Nine Sols first launched for PC via Steam on May 29.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

From the creators of award-winning psychological horror games Detention and Devotion, comes Red Candle Games’ latest title Nine Sols. The studio aims to deliver a stylized action platformer that’s cohesive and complimentary with its lore-rich narrative. It’s an ongoing, most ambitious project from this indie studio up to date.

Story

New Kunlun, the Solarian’s last sanctuary, has remained quiet for centuries. Inside this vast realm, the ancient gods left mortals with a promised land that is forever protected by the sacred rituals, yet the truth of this world remains unknown to most. Everything changes when Yi, a long forgotten hero from the past, is awoken by a human child. Follow Yi on his vengeful quest against the 9 Sols, formidable rulers of this forsaken realm, and obliterate any obstacles blocking your way in Sekiro-lite style combat. Explore in unique “Taopunk” setting that blends cyberpunk elements with Taoism and far eastern mythology. Unravel the mysteries of an ancient alien race and learn about the fate of mankind.

Key Features

2D Sekiro-lite Combat – Slash, deflect, and charge into enemies and blow them up with the Taoist talisman! Each fight combines fast, brutal action sequences with classic platforming mechanics.

Intriguing Boss Fights – Ready yourself to fight the vicious ancient guardians and gruesome creatures. Be patient and utilize every move in your arsenal, mix up with Yi’s godly bow to defeat these larger than life figures.

Taopunk Setting – When cyberpunk clashes with Taoism, melding sci-fi elements with eastern mythology / fantasy, the experimental genre of Taopunk was born.

Hand-drawn Environments / Animations and Manga – Nine Sols is filled with meticulous hand-crafted, anime-style landscapes, sprite based hand-drawn animations, blending with Japanese manga inspired cutscenes.

Exploration – Traverse in the interconnected regions of New Kunlun. Discover secrets, piece together the story behind Yi’s revenge.

Aids from Inhabitants – Meet interesting NPCs of this world and interact with them to receive upgrades, gain new abilities, and discover useful technology.

Watch a new trailer below.

Consoles Announce Trailer

youtube

#Nine Sols #Red Candle Games #platformer #Gematsu

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stxrsniolo · 2 months ago

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♰ֻㅤ۫ㅤֵ⠀𝅥⠀ the ninths ꒰͡⠀𝅄⠀͡꒱⠀⠀ִ⠀﹚⠀❟ㅤ

ㅤ◜ ✴ ⠀ 𓈒ㅤ ﹙forbidding neighbor!matt x deathly curious!reader﹚─── ⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ rhea, cursed by her curiosity, faces the fallout of uncovering matt’s secret: a world of killers tied to their birth date. after witnessing the murder, she wrestles with telling her parents but is paralyzed by fear and doubt. matt pressures her to join his “pack” or flee, as she grapples with paranoia, guilt, and the looming threat to her family. ㅤ ㅤㅤ( ˖ ࣪★˳ ) : panic + death + violence + emotional turmoil + obsession + paranoia + horror + murder + psychological tension → dark fiction .

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ ( aegan's notes )﹕this piece is heavily based on damian, a work by alex mirez. tread carefully; the shadows you'll encounter here echo those from her dark narrative.

my greatest flaw had always been curiosity, too much of it; and like everything, it came with harsh, ugly consequences—ones i was now choking on in the worst way possible.

standing alone at my front door sent shudders through me, paranoia sinking its teeth in deep. how could it not? knowing matthew was leaving, even if just two houses down, left me feeling raw, exposed, a sitting duck pinned under a spotlight. i couldn’t dare ask him to stay—grumpy, hateful bastard that he was, my presence clearly grated on him—so i had to scrape together some guts to do what needed doing, solo: tell my parents everything.

i slipped inside, easing the door shut with a care i didn’t understand, like making noise might summon something i couldn’t face. mom had to be home by now; she always rolled in at four from her gig as general manager of asfil’s top bakeries, a clockwork routine.

just thinking about telling her i had to leave made me question if i even should. i mean, how the hell do you confess to your parents that you’ve got to bolt because you stumbled onto proof the neighbor’s a killer, tied to a whole damn underworld of murderers? i could scratch off the idea of matthew pulling some sick prank. i’d seen it myself—the purple trench coat bastard carving up that guy in the woods.

but that wasn’t the part that stuck in my throat.

alone in the safe, quiet cocoon of my living room, i could admit the real gut-punch in matthew’s confession: the bit about them being born on the ninth of the ninth month, some twisted cosmic trigger that made them crave blood. if i overanalyzed it—and christ, i loved overanalyzing shit—it tied into nature itself.

that was my wheelhouse.

between books, late-night deep dives into shady research, tv shows, and elise’s wild tales, i could piece it together: it was real, and i had to save my ass. if i didn’t, a knife in my gut was my fate once they sniffed out i was just… normal.

“normal,” i muttered. weird how being that was suddenly wrong when the rest of this festering world swore it was the only thing right.

“mom?” i called from the living room.

i went to shrug off my bag like always, let it flop onto the couch, but then remembered i’d lost it in the woods—phone and all. i stared at the empty spot, a hollow ache creeping in.

oh, the couch, the calm, oblivious couch in the calm, oblivious living room. why couldn’t i be that still?

“in the kitchen, baby!” mom’s voice hit me, a knot twisting tight in my throat.

she had no clue. what’d happen when she did? would she buy it? hell no. she’d lose it—worse, she’d crack the damn earth open. that was mom: impulsive, fearless, sometimes a total pain in the ass.

i shuffled toward the kitchen, spotting her chopping veggies. she was all about healthy eats; ironic for a woman swimming in pastries and bread all day, but i loved her cooking anyway.

mom was a health nut through and through, kept herself slim, but those green eyes—mirror images of mine—were starting to show their age.

“how’d your day go? school good?” she asked, flashing a wide, warm smile that steadied me a little.

“yeah, everything’s been great,” i lied. “dad?”

“he’s late tonight, work’s piling up, called to say so.”

“cool. uhhhh, i wanna talk to you both at dinner, then,” i said, realizing my mistake the second it slipped out.

mom’s brow furrowed, and she set the knife down slow, its blade catching the light in a way that jolted me. i fought to hide it.

“something wrong? school trouble? bullying? oh god, i’ve seen those tv shows, rhea, honey, we love you, you’re worth everything. don’t you dare think about hurting yourself! no, no, no, stay grounded, always grounded. i thought it couldn’t happen to you, you’re so bright, you’ve changed—” she rattled it off so fast i couldn’t cut in. “don’t think being eighteen stops me, i’ll sue that damn school! nobody messes with my girl! tell me exactly what’s going on!”

“mom! mom!” i broke in when i finally got a breath. “it’s not that, no. nobody’s bullying me. stop watching those shows, please.”

carmindy—mom’s real name—pressed a hand to her chest, letting out a dramatic sigh of relief. “oh, that’s a weight off,” she said, then went right back to slicing veggies like nothing happened. “so, what’s up? tell me now, i’ll fill your dad in later, you know he tunes out everything but food at dinner.”

and he did—dinner, sometimes lunch, he’d come home ravenous, plow through two plates of mom’s light cooking because one never cut it, but his appetite wasn’t the issue.

i’d just clocked something: i couldn’t breathe a word about matthew’s secret.

tell her—the woman who’d just vowed to sue anyone who crossed me? spill a story that sounded like it crawled out of a lunatic’s head unless you’d seen it? say we had to move now or a pack of killers would carve up my face? a faint memory—or maybe just a gut scream—echoed in my skull: don’t talk. don’t say it. don’t tell.

and i wouldn’t, no way, because she’d never buy it, and it’d end bad for me.

it always ended bad for me—that’s how i knew i couldn’t spill what was churning in my brain. telling my parents was as dangerous as stumbling into matthew’s world in the first place.

i jumped when the kitchen phone shrilled, nerves still raw. mom wiped her hands on her floral apron and picked it up. i stood stiff as a board.

“hello? who? oh, hi! weird you’re calling. yep, she’s here, hang on. rhea, it’s for you.”

weird. who’s calling? matthew’s name flashed in my head, why would he call here? to rat me out to my folks? my heart slammed against my ribs, the room going eerily quiet. i edged to the wall by the fridge where the phone hung, hands shaking as i pressed it to my ear.

“yeah?” i croaked, swallowing hard.

“ding-dong, who’s crashing the big shindig?” olivia’s voice sang through, a lilting rhyme that made me exhale in relief. “i’ve called your cell like ten times—no answer! know how long it’s been since i rang your house? back when we’d gab all night about the O.C.— we were so tiny!”

“battery died, sorry,” i lied, glancing sideways to make sure mom wasn’t eavesdropping.

“then charge that thing! i need to send you pics of my outfit options for tonight’s party, i can’t pick!”

“the party… yeah, about that, i’m not going.”

“what?!” she screeched. “why? beause of elise’s crap about that stupid bet? come on, if she had her way, we’d all be nuns!”

“no, not the bet. i’m just… tired, you know?” another lie.

“rhea, it’s our last year, we swore we’d hit every event, every party, live it up! you can’t bail!”

“i know, i know. i’m sorry, i’m just wiped.”

“wiped? nothing a party and a few drinks can’t fix! we’ll go for a couple hours, then bounce—come on, please! don’t turn into elise 2.0!”

for a split second, i wanted to spill it all over the line, but if mom couldn’t know, olivia sure as hell couldn’t either.

“i won’t be elise 2.0, it’s just… i’m…” my voice faltered, no clue what to say, so i faked a cough, dropping to a rasp. “i’m getting sick, got a fever. you think i don’t wanna go? i’m dying to, but mom won’t let me out like this, she’s freaking out, she didn’t want me catching anything, you know how she gets…”

“oh! i know all about mrs. carmindy when you’re sick. fine, i’ll leave you be tonight, but don’t pull that excuse again. get better and if you change your mind, text me!” she hung up. i slotted the phone back, darting out of the kitchen before mom could pounce with questions.

i stopped in the living room, letting out a shaky breath. It felt like too much was clawing at me from the inside, like i was scared to even peek out the window. witnessing a murder, then finding out about a pack of killers? not exactly light news. my stomach churned as it hit me: staying quiet made me complicit.

i got it, i was tangled up in a brutal crime now.

i nearly hyperventilated. only thing that stopped a full-on panic attack was a knock at the door—sharp, deliberate, no bell, just fists on wood.

that same jittery dread from olivia’s call spiked again. i crept toward the door, hesitating. a flood of nightmare scenes flashed through my head, but i gripped the knob and yanked it open.

nobody. just my bag, sitting there on the stoop, streaked with dirt and grass. i snatched it, slammed the door, and bolted upstairs to my room. i wanted to lock everything—door, window, the whole damn house—but it’d be pointless, as pointless as letting fear eat me alive. i couldn’t stop the terror, but i could at least try to see this mess without losing my mind.

break it down: everything was fucked, royally fucked.

but didn’t i, more than anyone, know you could claw your way out of awful shit? problem was, this wasn’t just a bad spot—it was a colossal, deadly mess, and i’d kicked it off. me and my meddling.

i stared at the bag in my hands, dirt smudged across it, and knew only matthew could’ve dropped it there. knew, too, it was his way of hammering home that his secret was real, and now i was in it.

that night, i didn’t even eat; the second my head hit the pillow, silent tears soaked it, the image of that guy getting stabbed burned into my brain.

morning hit like a slap, the alarm jolting me out of bed.

i’d slept, somehow, but felt like i hadn’t shut my eyes. in the bathroom mirror, i tried convincing myself it could be a normal day, or at least fake it if i tried hard enough. those purple shadows under my eyes? nothing if i willed it. with effort, i could shove the nerves down. so i showered, dressed, and trudged downstairs to eat alone like always, mom and dad long gone for work.

stepping out for school, i paused, scanning the sidewalk stretching past the house. empty. i lingered, half-expecting matthew to slink by, but he didn’t, so i started walking, jumpy as hell, eyes darting everywhere, clutching my bag straps like a lifeline.

every few steps, leaving the shaky safety of home behind, though how safe was it, really? i half-thought the purple trench coat guy would pop up, those murky blue eyes boring into me, fear dripping off him. paranoid? sure, but didn’t i have damn good reason?

the trek dragged on forever until asfil central Institute loomed into view. its buildings still had that old-school vibe with ochre walls, massive windows olivia called chocolate bars. the town’s main school, it’d been there forever, growing over the years. they’d tacked on wings when it doubled as an elementary too, so it was a swarm of kids to teens, always loud as hell. never been so glad for the chaos until now.

seeing that flood of students buzzing around eased me a bit. with this many bodies, who’d pick me out? i crossed the waxed path flanked by glossy, wet grass and stepped inside, a flicker of safety hitting me. nothing could touch me here, not with teachers eyeballing everything.

in geography class, i plopped into my usual seat next to elise, who was nose-deep in a book—typical. she read more than me, way more than olivia. not that i didn’t, but elise lived in those pages.

i set out my notebook and pencil, only to jump at a syrupy voice cutting through the room:

“good morning!” olivia flicked a strand of platinum blonde from her face, flashing a perfect cherry-lipped smile. she was gorgeous and owned it, strutting it for all to see. a few mumbled back greetings.

anyone eyeballing her might peg her as the mean, popular blonde cliché. truth was, she had charm—won people over, not cruel, just real. folks around her clocked the difference between spite and honesty. couldn’t hate her, not even for being loud, outgoing, sometimes too sweet.

“you’re really out here tanking our self-esteem,” i teased as she sauntered over.

our desks were for two, but olivia perched on ours until the teacher showed.

“not on purpose,” she shot back, tossing waves to the room over our heads. “you know that’s not me—i just like sparking some joy, and i can’t do that if i’m not buzzing too. joy’s loud, right? spreads the vibe like cheerleaders! i love giving everyone a good morning, making ‘em feel alive.”

“oh, what’d their lives be without your hellos?” elise drawled, eyes still glued to her book.

“i’ve wondered that, pretty sure they’d smile less…” olivia said, a real twinge of sadness in her voice.

elise looked up, scowling, and grabbed her geography text—earth on the cover. she angled it so olivia could see.

“see this?” she asked, tapping the planet. olivia nodded, curious. “that’s the world with your hellos. now this—” she flipped it to the same earth on the back. “—the world without. spot a difference? no? because there isn’t one.”

olivia got it fast, her brows sinking, nose scrunching so hard i burst out laughing.

“that’s your miserable world. in happy people land, we ignore wannabe comedians who aren’t funny,” she snapped, flipping elise the bird. elise smirked, victorious, and sank back into her book.

then olivia blindsided me. “you look good. didn’t think you’d show after that fever. forced to come?”

“i got better,” i said, aiming for calm. “mom’s got killer remedies.”

“perfect!” olivia chirped, hopping off to chat up some guys two desks over. i exhaled quietly, only to catch elise side-eyeing me.

“so, what’s the real story?” she asked, voice low.

“what story?” i played dumb. elise was sharp, i couldn’t dodge that.

“you, last night, fever?” she flipped a page, cool as ice. “that’s what you told olivia. what’s the actual reason you skipped the party?”

“oh, the bet thing bugged me,” i lied, tossing in some nonchalance to throw her off. “stayed home, watched the x-factor.”

elise’s face soured, she wasn’t buying it, but all she could do was fake it and read. i’d lit a spark of doubt, though, and part of me wondered if i should tell her. she was the steadiest of us, the smartest.

problem was, this was heavy: murder wasn’t small potatoes, and i was complicit, i saw it, didn’t snitch. that, plus the fear, was gnawing at my skull.

right then, a weird itch crawled over me—like eyes on my back. i glanced over my shoulder, casual as i could, and there he was: matthew, slouched in a corner desk, staring, alone, messy hair as always, arms on the table, hunched like he could vanish, but those dark blue eyes? pure disapproval, no mistaking it.

class ended, everyone bolted; elise and olivia darted ahead, yapping about mall clothing sales—shared vice of theirs—while i lagged, scribbling the board notes i’d zoned out on all hour, distraction’s price.

finished after even the teacher split, i packed up and headed out, but just as i hit the hall, someone yanked my arm, dragging me back in. took a second to register matthew slamming the door, glaring at me like i’d pissed in his coffee.

“you moving? told your parents yet?” he fired off, no pause.

“couldn’t. couldn’t do it,” i admitted. he huffed, head tipping back like he was scraping for patience. i stood frozen, gripping my bag straps. “mom started ranting she’d sue anyone who messed with me! i can’t tell them—you don’t get it, what they’d do! they wouldn’t even believe me, they’d think i’m… crazy.”

“not bad, they’d ship you to a loony bin, you’d be safe there.”

my gut iced over. hated that word, hated it deep. couldn’t even picture being tagged a nutcase.

“what?! i’m not going anywhere!”

“damn it, rhea!” he roared, storming closer, all heat and fury. “you make me wanna strangle you, you know that? so much waffling, i can’t stand it.” i stumbled back, half-thinking he’d actually try. “but i told you i won’t, relax.” he eased off after clocking my flinch, eyeing me head to toe. “why’re you dressed like that?”

thrown, i glanced down at my simple floral sundress, light for asfil’s sticky heat.

“it’s bad? It’s just a dress,” i said, flat.

“it’s ridiculous,” he snapped. cold water dumped on me and i bristled instantly. “we don’t dress like that. or laugh like a jackass like you did earlier.”

“no, you kill. way more normal.”

“you think it’s normal?” he asked, a flicker of something naive in his tone.

“it’s sarcasm, matthew!” i barked, lunging for the door, but he blocked me. “let go!”

“first, stop calling me matthew—call me matt. second, if you’re not leaving, you’ve gotta join this.” his voice dropped, heavy. “still don’t get it? you’re in real danger, rhea.”

i held his stare, hunting for something to trust, but the murder flashed up—him, what i’d once thought he could be. words died in my throat. i tore free and bolted, melting into the hall crowd, sour and stupid for letting his dig about my clothes sting, when some leather-jacketed creep’s opinion shouldn’t matter.

still, i shoved that aside and locked on his last words.

i was in real danger.

second class, i wanted the ground to swallow me and spit me out in some asian backwater. matt didn’t glance my way again; elise rambled about somnium, a new book she’d started, hooked deep. olivia wouldn’t shut up about how she lifted everyone’s spirits, volunteering for grad prep with her “fresh” over-the-top ideas.

morning classes dragged, then the walk home stretched long. i dodged the bus with elise and olivia—ditched them the second i was out—trying to see this from another angle as i cut through town. mom’s, dad’s, olivia’s, elise’s. hers made the most sense: call the cops, get safe. logical as hell.

maybe i should just pick up the phone, spill it all, sell matt out, find some peace.

i got home, leaning against the door a sec, the silence inside was thick, like it’d teamed up with my fears to rattle me more. i dumped my bag on the couch, eyeing the house phone on its little table, ready for me to confess, like it was the natural move. wasn’t it? i edged toward it, hesitant. why so much doubt? i lifted it, punched the first digit—

the doorbell shrieked.

i flinched hard, dropping the phone, its coiled cord snapping under the table like a stretched spring. my brain stung with the worst—purple trench coat guy, finger on the bell—but the panic faded fast. could be olivia, dragging me to the mall, or elise, sniffing out my morning lie. could be anyone.

i opened the door, forcing optimism, and there he was.

“oh. forget to say my shoes are ridiculous too?” i quipped, relief leaking into the words. matt squinted, nudging me aside to slink in without asking, shutting the door.

“nah, you already know that,” he said, flat, indifferent. “you’re alone, right?”

“you’re not exactly polite, you know that?” i huffed, arms crossing. “and no, i’m not—”

“i swear i am when it matters,” he cut in, strolling into the living room. i tailed him fast, but he stopped by the couch, near the table where the phone usually sat, now on the floor. he stared at it. so did i, cursing myself. “what were you doing?” he turned, slow.

lie, lie, lie!

“calling olivia, we’re going out,” i said, forcing calm, rooted between the living room and hall.

matt’s brow creased, sharpening those freakish eyes—blue so dark the pupils blurred into them, weird as hell.

“you’re lying,” he said, stepping closer, deliberate. i backed up. “i know when people lie, rhea.”

“i’m not, why would i?” i mumbled.

my back hit the hall wal—no more room. he kept coming, closing in, his polished boots now kissed mine, pinning me with a stare that raked my face like he was digging for something.

“gonna snitch on us? on… me?” he whispered, breath hot on my cheek, goosebumps prickling up.

i was scared shitless—of course i was—but something, some dumb gut whisper, said he wouldn’t hurt me. showing it, though? that could screw me.

“no,” i said, firm. “wasn’t gonna.”

he went quiet, seconds stretching. i braced for him to call bullshit, but he just stepped back, shrugging like it was nothing.

“good, because if you do, they’ll kill you wherever you are: you, anyone with your last name, anyone tied to you. parents, friends, the works. you know that?” he said, casual as hell.

i sucked in a breath, peeling off the wall. snitching wasn’t looking so smart anymore.

it crashed back: real danger, him, the killers i’d glimpsed past that cabin door—all real. the thought of them gutting my family twisted me up. my throat knotted, but i swallowed it. matt wandered the living room, eyeing every knickknack like a museum tourist; photos of me gap-toothed, in kiddie soccer, with cousins, with my folks.

a version of me who didn’t know this secret.

“so, you’re staying, huh?” he said, tracing a finger over one of mom’s weird crafts—a headless, fat woman figurine.

“guess so,” i muttered, watching him close. “don’t touch that, it might break.”

“never break what i don’t mean to,” he said, lingering on it until he felt like stopping. “you scared?” he spat like it was a normal question.

“if i was, would that be wrong?”

“nah, fear’s nice,” he said, voice low, dragging.

“fear of getting murdered is nice,” i echoed, dripping sarcasm so he’d get how insane that sounded. he just leaned closer to inspect another carving.

“not that; panic itself—i like it. not feeling it, seeing it. get me?”

“i get i expected anything from you but this. never thought we’d be in my living room chatting about you liking scared people. not exactly… normal. but you’re not normal.”

“yeah? what tipped you off?” sarcasm, thick. “i know i’m not. neither are you.” he dropped the decor, facing me, calm as a still pond. “someone who won’t take no for an answer when a kid won’t leave his house to play, who keeps spying? not too normal.”

“i was a kid, okay?” i huffed, looking away.

“but you’re not now, and curiosity still owns you,” he said. “if you were so normal, we wouldn’t be here, you wouldn’t be in danger, and you wouldn’t be this terrified.”

“at least that’s normal, right? anyone in my spot would be shitting bricks,” i said, flopping onto the big couch.

“we’ll keep you safe from them,” he said, exhaling like it annoyed him more than anything. “we run in packs, watch each other’s backs. mine’s small and loyal as hell. maybe that’s why.”

“oh! a pack. from the makers of ‘i’m a killer and you’re dead’ comes ‘my murder buddies know about you,’” i quipped. he stared, blank.

“guess that’s a joke.”

“nevermind,” i muttered, rolling my eyes. “what do you call killer packs? gotta have a name.”

“like… packs, yeah. we can kill our own—saw that in the woods, probably nicolas settling a score. happens a lot—unfixable beef, strongest takes a life, but in a pack, we bond, swear protection, we keep that until we’re dead,” he said, sinking into the solo couch across me. “mine’s four: chris, tatiana, archie, me. chris and i go way back—told him about you last night, he’s cool with you joining.”

“great, no need to charm them,” i grumbled, flat. “they all kill left and right too?” dumb question, i realized late.

“we all do—some more than others,” he said, no guilt. “our pack’s chill compared to most. we hang, archie guts squirrels for kicks, we drink, that’s it.”

“yeah, squirrel-gutting’s real zen,” i said, faking a nod.

“it is. other packs hunt—practice for snagging people—or do rounds, stalking targets. then there’s hobbies that’d… shock anyone,” he said.

“not even gonna ask,” i said, shaking my head, then sighed. “do i at least… get time to think?” i was dreading his answer.

“today, sure. but you still don’t get how big this is, i’m not drawing you a damn diagram,” he said, standing. “simple: leave or join. leave, maybe you keep your life. stay, they’ll kill you unless you convince everyone you’re not some normal chick who knows too much.”

“it’s just… so sudden, so unfair—”

“should’ve thought twice before tailing me.” with that, he cut across to the door and vanished. i sat there, drowning in panic, disgust, pressure, a dangerous mess of confusion. only one thing was clear: i didn’t know what to do.

i shot up, locked the door, and everything hit at once, my emotions racing, desperation winning, shoving me upstairs to my room. rage tangled with fear; i kicked the poof in the corner, then slammed a stack of books off my desk.

“damn it! damn it!” i yelled, tears soaking my face like i’d lost some war, i crumpled onto the bed, sobbing hard—angry, scared. how could i ditch my life? how could he just say it, calm as hell, like he could steer my fate without a shred of regret?

i curled up tight, remembering what i’d chased as a kid: him. regretted following, regretted crafting some mystery around him, regretted thinking he just needed a nudge to crack his shell.

all lies. he’d never been sick, his parents locked him up for a rotten truth we now shared. i hadn’t killed, but i felt complicit, watched that guy die, couldn’t snitch, now stuck with a secret i had to live.

my life had to shift, but that meant leaving something behind; and to do that, i had to finally get what i’d been chanting since morning: i was in real danger: matt was a killer, and i had to try being one too—or my family and i were dead meat.

whispering that, i sank into exhausted sleep.

“the secret’s real…”

⠀̋⠀★ . ᅠtaglist ູᅠ͞ — @courta13 @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @ariieeesworld @pixie-sticks-are-good @luvjaeeee @sturnslutz @mattswifeyy @oopsiedaisydeer @v4lsturn @pair-of-pantaloons @idkwhatthisevenislol @sturn777 @whore4mattsturniolo @madifilipowiczisthebest @fratbrochrisgf @ivysturnss @mattsatellite @sturnsblogs @izzylovesmatt @allisonclairee @m4gz-png @mr-wrinkleton @bluestriips @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @immaqulate @wysmols @chrepsi @mattslolita @ribbonlovergirl @milo-the-dog @madisturni @ariestrxsh @myluck4u-com

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magnuspanoptes · 28 days ago

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do you have any book/media recs? i love your thoughts on jonelias and as a fan of it (and hannigram/hannibal nbc) im having a hard time finding stuff that scratches that itch 😩

waow what a question i certainly do not have letterboxd and book lists titled 'jonelias intertextuality recs'. never done that.

manhunter (1986) and the silence of the lambs (1991) or just read the thomas harris books.

functionally any bluebeared narrative where the supposedly ingénue gothic heroine masters the patriarch of the gothic manor works for jonelias so: jane eyre, charlotte brönte; rebecca, daphne du maurier (which is jane eyre if it was psychological horror); and phantom thread (2017) (which is rebecca if the second mrs de winter slayed)

deathless, catherynne m. valente which is the same dynamic as above and is also a death and the maiden story.

the bloody chamber, the tiger's bride, and the erl-king - all collected in the bloody chamber and other stories, angela carter

duke bluebeard's castle, béla bartók

candyman (1992) which is based on clive barker's the forbidden. je text of all time. like this is it. gothic romance where union with the lover is only possible through annihilation of the self because the violence is the romance.

ravenous (1999) has cannibalism as colonial expansion, which the podcast is also doing at times in its themes of consumption as power. jon and elias could naturally do boyd and ives.

amc interview with the vampire. loustat, hannigram, and jonelias are all the same ship dynamic about the dual gift/curse of being fated together with a really awful blonde man. i think this has some very smart writing re consumption and race wrt louis and lestat's relationship as black and white men/vampires during jim crow, and is also a thoughtful narrative of abuse which is set to end in a reconciliation, so pitching this as jonelias but if they were vampires feels reductive. but it's jonelias if they were vampires. if you've been here long enough you know i don't choose to differentiate between avatarhood and vampirism.

opening of dracula, bram stoker. jonathan harker trapped within dracula's castle is literally what happens to my guy jonathan sims in the podcast. speaking of which. nosferatu (2024) was kind of mid to me and my reading of it leaned more towards a csa narrative, but that can definitely co-exist with a romantic interpretation of orlok and ellen. didn't interest me very much but might work for you.

gone girl, gillian flynn and the 2014 fincher adaptation. jon will be amy in this scenario. you understand.

whiplash (2014). trust me.

rope (1948)

crimson peak (2015)

for a similar dynamic but with themes of incestuous enmeshment, see the winter prince, elizabeth wein and dead ringers (1988)

stoker (2013). this would be more of interest to someone who liked abigail and hannibal's relationship, not will and hannibal per se. but i did say i see teen!jon as abigail.

jonathan strange & mr norrell, susanna clarke is a very odd recommendation because it's not gothic, not horror, and not romance, it's a whimsical period fantasy piece. there's a lot more happening in this book but the two titular characters have a relationship founded on mutual academic respect which goes through bit of a schism because they subscribe to different schools of thought. exactly the kind of nerd shit i enjoy and strange & norrell's friendship is very dear to me, close to how i picture regency jonjonah.

didn't watch all of house of the dragon but daemon and rhaenyra over there came close to capturing how i feel about jon and elias. also incest. but i wouldn't recommend this unless you're already moderately into the a song of ice and fire books.

i've never read the phantom of the opera but given what i know through osmosis it has got to be the same type of thing.

the picture of dorian gray, oscar wilde - everyone says jonah is dorian gray coded but that's not right. jon as the corruptible gothic protagonist is the dorian here with elias assuming the role of both basil and lord henry.

annihilation, jeff vandermeer, nothing in this is jonelias adjacent, it's just really good cosmic horror and what happens to the biologist is what should've also happened to jon.

#jonelias #asks

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biocrafthero · 1 year ago

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Some Queer Games and Devs to check out this Pride Month

Hello! I play a decent amount of video games, and like making posts about them. This year, I've been making a lot more posts analyzing and promoting games I particularly enjoy. I'm making this post as a way to share games that have queer developers and/or topics to celebrate this year's Pride Month.

All games' websites will be linked in their respective sections, and I urge you to check out any of the games that speak to you. There's a decent amount of variety on this list, so please give all of them a look!

Please note that all of these games are ones I have personally played--I am not including games I have not played yet for myself. If you were hoping for your favorite title to be on here, I am very sorry but chances are I just haven't heard of or played it yet.

ANATOMY (2016)

ANATOMY is a horror game released in 2016 by developer Kitty Horrorshow (she/her). While the game does not contain any queer themes, the dev is openly transgender.

The plot of the game coincides with the gameplay, which centers around walking through a nearly pitch-black house collecting tapes and putting them in a tape player. Despite its simplicity, the game has been commended by many for being "the scariest game they have ever played." The story of the house is uncovered as you listen to each of the tapes, and reentering each time the game shuts you out.

This game features themes surrounding body horror and psychological horror, and one moment that can be seen as a mild jumpscare if it is not expected.

A full playthrough takes about an hour, with multiple endings. However, all roads lead to the same destination.

ANATOMY is available for $3 USD on itch.io.

We Know The Devil (2015)

We Know The Devil is a visual novel developed by the team Worst Girls Games, which consists of Aevee Bee (she/her) and Max Schwartz (any). Music for the game is composed by Alec Lambert.

The plot of the game surrounds three teenagers who have been sent to a religious summer camp in the American midwest. With just one week left, they're all hoping for everything to be smooth sailing, but nothing is ever that simple. On this fateful night, they must face the devil; two will make it out, but one will be left behind.

The gameplay focuses on making decisions on who gets paired up together, and consequently who gets left out of the interaction. These choices determine what ending you get and there are never any wrong answers.

Queer rep in this game consists of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There is also mentioned homosexuality regarding a male character that is only ever talked about in passing.

This game contains themes surrounding religion, internalized homophobia, along with general homophobia and transphobia. There are scenes that depict underage drinking, vomiting, body horror, and some moments that can be interpreted as self-harm. Some sound effects in the game can be jarring, along with the track "Incense (Smoke & Honey)" from the OST, a song that plays in three of the four endings.

A single playthrough can take about two hours depending on reading speed. There are four endings, meaning a minimum of four playthroughs.

We Know The Devil is available for $6.66 USD on Steam, Nintendo Switch, and itch.io.

There is also the demo for the game, which is free to download off of the game's itch.io page and baked into the Switch port.

Heaven Will Be Mine (2017)

Heaven Will Be Mine is a visual novel also developed by the team Worst Girls Games, with soundtrack once again composed by Alec Lambert.

The game's plot centers around three factions in the solar system. They have all been called back to Earth under threat of death; two factions want to stay in space, while one is choosing to return. At the start of the game, you can choose one out of three characters to follow the POV of, each belonging to one of the three factions.

Gameplay is similar to We Know The Devil, meaning that you make decisions throughout the story that determine what ending you get. There are no wrong choices, only ones that lean in the favor of one of the faction out of your options.

Queer rep in this game consists primarily of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There may be more I am forgetting to mention.

This game contains scenes depicting violence, body horror, and discussions about sexuality, abuse, and trauma. This game is meant for a more mature audience than the others on this list. Some sound effects and music in the game can be jarring. There may be content warnings I am forgetting to put here.

The game has three major story routes and three endings, and each playthrough takes around four to five hours depending on reading speed. At minimum, you will need to play this game three times.

Heaven Will Be Mine is available for $15 USD on Steam, iOS, and itch.io. It should be noted that the price on iOS is different than on other platforms, being listed at $5 USD.

In Stars And Time (2023)

In Stars And Time is a turn-based RPG developed by insertdisc5 (she/they) and published by Armor Games Studios. Music for the game is composed by Studio Thumpy Puppy.

The story follows your typical RPG party, starting the day before the final dungeon and final boss. However, when you go in, you get caught in a trap and die. Time suddenly rewinds, and you find yourself at the day before your party entered the dungeon. You are caught in a time loop, and must find a way to stop the final boss and escape the loops.

Gameplay mostly consists of turn-based combat with enemies, and making the right dialogue choices when talking to NPCs and your party members. There are several puzzles throughout the game that encourage you to use the looping mechanic to solve them.

Queer rep in this game consists of transgenderism (transmasc and nonbinary explicitly, but there are some characters that can be interpreted as transfem, agender, and/or genderfluid), aromanticism, asexuality, lesbianism and homosexuality, and a plot thread that involves t4t romance. All six major characters have canonical pronoun sets. There may be more rep I am forgetting to include here in this list.

This game contains scenes of mild violence, self-hatred and other heavy mental heath topics, one scene of child endangerment, unreality, and optional scenes involving self-harm and suicide.

The average playtime for this game is 26 hours, which increases to 36 depending on how much optional content you engage with. There is technically one ending, but an optional plot thread can get you an alternate version of the ending screen. This plot thread is highly encouraged to be followed.

In Stars And Time is available for $20 USD on Steam, itch.io, Nintendo Switch, and PS4 and PS5.

There is also a previous title titled START AGAIN: a prologue, which is available on Steam and itch.io. This game does not need to be played to understand In Stars And Time, but is highly recommended nonetheless.

Some personal anecdotes regarding each of these games:

In Stars And Time is one of the few games where I saw a character (Siffrin in this case), pointed at them, and said "They're just like me!"

We Know The Devil and Heaven Will Be Mine both have themes of queer solidarity in the face of oppression and it fills me with rebellious rage (positive).

ANATOMY is one of my favorite games ever made, and is objectively the scariest game I have ever played.

Almost all of these games have made me almost cry, which is a very high bar for a game to reach. The only one that didn't is ANATOMY, mostly because it evokes more fear than it does tears for me.

We Know The Devil in particular evokes a very specific nostalgia for me, so the setting and characters hit differently for me than they may for others.

I played In Stars And Time shortly after a breakup and consequently developed the most horrific crush on the character Isabeau. It is frankly quite embarrassing.

#rambles #in stars and time #isat #we know the devil #wktd #heaven will be mine #hwbm #anatomy #anatomy game #indie games

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bardic-tales · 1 month ago

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Part One | Part Two

4.3.2025 - Headcanons - Permanent Memories. part two

As shown in Lifestyle Black, a short story in On the Way to A Smile, Sephiroth’s descent into the Lifestream was supposed to mark his rebirth by a complete shedding of past attachments and weaknesses.

In Fantasy Worlds Collide, among the first things he would attempt to erase was his love for Bianca, as emotions contradicted his pursuit of absolute control and self-reinvention. However, Bianca’s presence within him refused to be purged, persisting in ways that defied even the vast, consuming nature of the Lifestream. This struggle between forgetting and remembering transforms his love into something far more dangerous, an obsession that reshapes his perception of their destiny.

The second part of this article delves into the psychological and metaphysical implications of Sephiroth’s failed erasure of Bianca, exploring how their connection not only survives but strengthens more. Ultimately, their connection binds them together in a cycle neither can escape. This is only explaining the Red String of Fate and the nature of their bond. It does not take in account that she has Jenova and S-cells.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Amnesia, captivity, emotional manipulation, existential horror, loss of identity, memory erasure, obsession, psychological distress, soul-binding, trauma, unresolved grief.

Bianca and Sephiroth share a connection that defies the limits of ordinary relationships. More than just lovers or soulmates, their bond is a cosmic force woven into the very fabric of Existence itself. Unlike typical soul ties, which are shaped by shared experiences or emotions, their Red Thread of Fate predates even the Lifestream, making it immune to the spiritual laws that govern the Planet. Their souls were once a singular entity, split into two to prevent a prophecy destined to bring about both destruction and rebirth. This connection goes beyond the physical and emotional. It transcends dimensions, allowing them to remain tethered no matter where or when they exist.

A Bond That Exists Beyond the Lifestream

While the Lifestream dictates the cycle of life and death for most beings, Bianca stands apart. As a celestial entity, she is not bound to it, yet her link to Sephiroth allows her to sense and interact with him within it. The Red Thread of Fate does not tie Bianca to the Lifestream directly, but it acts as a bridge, enabling her to perceive his fragmented essence and while her celestial origins even allows her to communicate with spirits like Zack and Aerith without being pulled into the Planet’s spiritual current.

Unlike those who are absorbed into the Lifestream upon death, Sephiroth’s existence persists. Even as the Lifestream attempts to dissolve his identity, the connection to Bianca remains intact: an anchor that prevents him from fading into nothingness. This explains why she experiences visions, echoes of his emotions, and even physical manifestations of his pain without succumbing to the Lifestream’s pull herself.

An Interdimensional Tether Beyond Time and Space

Since their bond is not of the Planet’s design, it functions as an interdimensional tether rather than a spiritual link confined to a single world. This means:

No matter where Sephiroth is Bianca can still feel his presence. Whether in the physical realm, the Lifestream, or another dimension, his presence is still there.

The Red Thread ensures their connection persists even when Sephiroth’s existence is fragmented, making Bianca his one constant in a sea of chaos and rage.

Their souls resonate with one another, allowing Bianca to experience Sephiroth’s emotions, desires, and suffering across any distance.

Even though she does not belong to the Lifestream or the Planet, Sephiroth’s emotions still reach her. His rage, his obsession, and his pain? Everything he experiences reverberates through their bond. When he reaches for her, consciously or subconsciously, his essence imprints on her mind, dreams, and even physical state, drawing her deeper into his world despite their separation.

Sephiroth’s Amnesia and the Instinctual Search for Bianca

In Lifestream Black, Sephiroth erases his own memories in an attempt to purge his past. However, he cannot erase Bianca. She remains imprinted in his very being, lingering not as clear memories, but as distorted fragments and a subconscious need to find her again. His initial search for Bianca is not driven by logic or recollection. It is a primal, magnetic pull toward the one presence he cannot lose.

When he begins to “remember,” it is not through his own eyes but through the echoes of Bianca’s trauma. The Jenova’s corruption distorts his perception, leaving him with incomplete flashes of their past, particularly her screams as he fell in Nibel Reactor. As he pieces himself back together, he is also driven by the need to reconnect with the soul that has always been bound to his own: his other half.

The Dreamscape: A Realm Shaped by Their Bond

Sephiroth’s dreamscape is not a product of the Lifestream, but rather an independent psychic construct. It is a liminal space where his fragmented consciousness takes form. This realm exists between their minds and reality itself, shaped by his subconscious and given structure through the Red Thread of Fate.

However, because Sephiroth is broken within the Lifestream, his dreamscape is equally fractured. When Bianca enters this space, she does not experience their past as it truly was, but as he remembers it: distorted, disjointed, and filled with emotional gaps. It is also shaped by Seraphine's memories that are imprinted into Bianca's celestial DNA. The dreamscape is a testament to their bond. The dreamscape proves that even in his most fractured state, Sephiroth’s soul still calls out to Bianca.

Sephiroth’s Fragmented Soul and His Need for Bianca

Despite losing his memories, Sephiroth’s soul still recognizes Bianca as its missing half. The Lifestream may have stripped him of his identity, but it could not sever the connection between them. As a result:

His fragmented essence instinctively reaches for Bianca, even when his conscious mind does not remember why.

When he begins to reform himself, she becomes his first tether back to existence: not his ambitions, not his past, but her.

The Lifestream cannot fully erase him because Bianca, an entity beyond its reach, exists as an anchor that stabilizes his presence.

This is why the Lifestream “remembers” Bianca. Not because she is part of it, but because Sephiroth’s memories of her are too deeply ingrained for even the Lifestream to erase. His emotions, desires, and pain linked to Bianca influence the energies around him.

The Dreamscape: A Meeting Ground Beyond Reality

Since Bianca is neither fully of the physical world nor the Lifestream, the dreamscape serves as a neutral ground where she and Sephiroth can reunite.

If Sephiroth’s fragmented soul latches onto the shared dreamscape, he could shape it for his needs, allowing their Red Thread to manifest in a way that neither the Lifestream nor the physical realm can interfere with.

This space reinforces the idea that their bond transcends all known planes of existence, proving that nothing, not even death or memory loss, can sever their connection.

Bianca as Sephiroth’s Emotional Beacon

Beyond the cosmic and spiritual aspects of their bond, Bianca’s trauma plays a significant role in making her Sephiroth’s tether. Her unresolved grief, her obsessive devotion, and the depth of her love create an emotional beacon that Sephiroth is drawn to, even in his most fractured state.

She is his guiding star: the one presence that remains constant as he struggles to reclaim himself. He will often call her his guiding light because of this.

Her pain and longing act as a signal through the void, pulling him back when the Lifestream threatens to erase him entirely.

No matter how lost Sephiroth becomes, Bianca’s existence ensures that he will always find his way back to her.

Bianca and Sephiroth’s bond is not simply a relationship. It is a fundamental force of existence. The Red Thread of Fate that binds them is immune to time, space, and even the Lifestream itself. It ensures that, no matter how far apart they are, no matter how shattered Sephiroth’s soul becomes, they will always be drawn back to one another.

More than love and more than destiny, their connection is the very thing that prevents Sephiroth from fading away completely. Like Cloud, Bianca becomes a tether. Whether through dreamscapes or echoes in the Lifestream, Bianca remains his anchor. She is his one unshakable truth in a world that seeks to erase him.

@themaradwrites @craftyhal

@megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap @seastarblue

@inkandimpressions @arrthurpendragon

#oc: bianca moore - ff #character: sephiroth #sephiroth #ship: sephica #otp: bianca / sephiroth #sephiroth x oc #oc x canon #ff vii oc #characters: fwc: ff #cd: headcanons #headcanon: fwc: ff #headcanon: relationships #bardic tales #bardic-tales #au: canon divergent

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lovesick-girly · 7 months ago

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the devil all the time book review

author: donald ray pollock

genre: southern gothic, crime, thriller

published: 12th july 2011

stars: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

synopsis: a young man devoted to protecting his loved ones must face off against corruption and sinister characters in a postwar backwoods town.

themes: good vs. evil, religion and hypocrisy, violence and death, trauma and psychological damage, corruption and moral decay, fate and desperation, poverty and despair, family and protection

fav quotes:

“Some people were born just so they could be buried.”

“It's hard to live a good life...It seems like the Devil don't ever let up.”

“They's a lot of no-good sonofabitches out there."

“Sometimes it seemed as if she spent half of her life crying.”

“He wondered if he would ever feel clean again.”

“Let me pray first," he sobbed. He started to put his hands together. "I already did it for you," Arvin said. "Put in one of them special requests you fuckers are always talking about, asked Him to send you straight to hell.”

my thoughts/review:

i love this book so much that i couldn’t put it down. donald ray pollock's the devil all the time is a harrowing southern gothic-like novel that borders on straight-up horror, taking the cake for disturbing and depraved. set in the post-world war ii backwoods of ohio and west virginia, it paints a bleak, grotesque picture of humanity, filled with violence, madness, and desperation (my kinda book hehe).

my favourite character is arvin, a deeply morally grey individual whose struggle to navigate a violent world while holding onto a sense of justice kept me hooked. his internal conflict and actions are unsettling yet sympathetic. another favourite perspective of mine was lenora, whose innocence and tragic vulnerability added a heartbreaking depth to the novel. sandy's perspective was equally fascinating—her entanglement with her husband in their twisted, murderous routine gave the story a layer of depravity that was chilling.

the story takes readers through the eyes of some truly gnarly and grotesque individuals, from a husband-and-wife serial killer duo to a predatory preacher and travelling freak show. the imagery is immersive and grotesque.

pollock’s prose is both beautiful and disgustingly twisted. he uses rich descriptions to create scenes that make you squirm but also pull you deeper into the narrative. if you loved the movie or like weird books i can't recommend enough.

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holybibly · 2 years ago

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Divine Rosa ❢ot8xreader❣

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader ❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut ❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love. ❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior. ❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

English is not my native language, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know.

Published on AO3 like FleurRi

❣ Prologue: Roses scarlet like blood ❣

Every story has a beginning: a magical, inexplicable moment—an elusive contact between reality and dreams. When thoughts emerge from the edge of consciousness, a stream of colorless letters appears on the parchment of our fate, eventually becoming an event. Life's intersections, fragments of various plots, are continuously repeated, lost, or deliberately forgotten. They are like unwritten melodies; the echo of their angelic voices follows us through life, like the bright tent of a wandering circus that incessantly makes noise. is full of tinsel, and raves with dreams.

There are millions of them. No. Billions, like the sleeping stars, sway peacefully on the sky-blue wire; their scattered light tells the wayward souls the way in the velvet folds of the night's darkness. These are our memories. Some are dazzlingly bright, as fresh as summer breezes, while others are barely flickering, covered in the marble ashes of time and a diamond crumb of emotion. And they all live so far away and at the same time prohibitively close together, there, in the labyrinth of the underground sky and on the endless roads of the blood rivers, where it is impossible to find them: in our memory.

Just as a pebble thrown into the ocean sinks into the murky depths, so does memory. Drowning into the viscous muddy depths without a bottom, in that rich and uncharted area that we call “oblivion,” it sinks in time. And few of us have been given the opportunity to preserve living images of memories of the feelings we have ever experienced: to drown in the bittersweet water of sorrow and joy; to fill our consciousness to the brim, like a vessel with golden honey, with the feelings of pain and keen passion, and to die. Die happy. The greatest privilege of all.

Seconds, minutes, days, and years—colorful fragments of time; sharp crumbs scattered under our feet. Unlike us, those who plunge into eternal sleep, our memories that have insidiously dissolved in ink in our blood will not disappear. They fear death, flee from it, and hide in the thick of the earth that blossoms with fluttering glass, forget-me-nots and drunken petunias that, in their intoxicating happiness, kiss the eyelashes of the blind God. You hear them whisper, “I’ll never forget you…”

My story begins with an innocent question that I’m sure you’ve heard more than once: “Do you like roses?”

Once upon a time, I would have answered, "Yes, I love roses." But, as it turns out, all our words are followed by consequences, and small rosy spikes can be much more dangerous than they seem at first glance, just like in the fairy tales that we were told in childhood. You know, there are things that we might call fatal: people who decide other people’s lives as long as they reach out to them like they're God. And then there are the flowers, which keep the mysteries tenebrous and ancient. I'm almost a hundred years old, maybe more. I should start my story right now; this is the perfect moment.

I will tell you about who I once was and who I am now. I will tell you about love, which is akin to obsession, and the death of her faithful friend. I will also tell you about the people, ghosts, or maybe illusions that were around me. They were with me once… Now, there are others, but they’ll be in my story later. They will come into my life with a chorus of angelic voices; the sound of a heavy autumn downpour, and the pretentious solemnity of death. Yeah, they’ll be there, though, if you think about it, they were always there, from my first breath to my last breath, by my side. But I’m forgetting what’s important. I have to tell you about the roses, and only about them.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

Mina's long hair shimmered like luxurious silk under the early morning light. Bloody strands fell in curled doll curls onto her bare shoulders, as if in Baroque paintings. The lush blossoms of white roses woven together in her hair made her look like the ancient Greek goddess of spring. Her appearance has always been astonishing, blatantly perfect rather than real, but that was sometime in the past. Now she was like a pale ghost of herself, a blurry reflection on a black surface of water on a moonlit night. The only thing that reminded her of her former beauty was her hair, which remained perfectly groomed and scarlet, like blood. Oh yeah, there are still roses. These flowers… there was something unnatural about them, something otherworldly. Each petal was painfully perfect, as if made of satin. But the flowers were real; they were alive and breathing and too demanding. It seemed that just because they wanted this, Mina could wear them in her hair. It was their choice, not hers. “Do you like roses, Rosa?” · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

This is the moment when my life changed forever. If I had known that this innocent question would be the beginning of my end, but can this be called the end? Would my answer have been different?

I’ve thought about it a thousand times. Over and over again, I played this scene like a broken record, crossed my answer out of the script, wrote a new one, and made comments and footnotes, but… But the answer was the same. I couldn’t change anything; it was destined. Much later, when I fall asleep in a warm bed, I will feel a gentle kiss on my closed eyelids and hear San’s angelic voice whisper in my ear that fate is never wrong. That they would find me or that I would come to them does not matter; in the end, we would still be together in life and in death. In eternity.

I’ll come back to that later, I promise. In the meantime, I’ll continue. · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

“They’re beautiful, Mina, but I don’t like them anymore.” I sounded terribly rude from the outside, and I could see Mina’s eyes filled with tears, as if I had slapped her.

“But Rosa!” Mina reached out her pale arms to me. “Look how perfect they are; don’t you care about their beauty? Doesn’t your heart beat faster when you look at them? O Rosa, these flowers are special; they never wilt.” She shook her head, as if confirming her words. “Yeosang gave them to me before I left” Her long, thin fingers reaching for the white rosebuds in her hair. “I want to give you one.” Hooking the flower, Mina gently pulled it out of her curls and stretched it towards me. I didn't have the desire to accept her gift; something in her behavior and her voice caused me anxiety. And there was this name: Yeosang. It wasn’t the first time I heard it, but it was a long time ago, and I still remember that Mina mentioned others with that name: Hongjoong, San, and Mingi. They sounded familiar to me as a song once learned by heart. She pronounced them in a special way: with a gentle intonation and an exciting euphoria. As if it had been repeated countless times at the same completely new to her. All I could hear was the echo of that song, which came along with those names in the conversation. It was an ominous echo, like an impending, inevitable storm. Mina was still holding out a rose, and I looked at her hands. Arms with a faint web of blue veins that looked like dried stems of faint flowers. For some reason, I came up with the idea of sirens holding out their hands to pirates while their voices led them into the welcome embrace of death. Did they look like Mina’s hands now?

I remember these hands weaving long pearl threads into my hair during festivals. I remember the feeling of intertwined fingers as Mina led me down the dark corridors of my grandmother's old house. I remember them gently wiping my tears when I was rubbing my feet until I bled in ballet class.

I remember the touch of those hands… I know him. These cold fingers that so carefully hold the snow-white flower no longer belong to my sister. Their touch changed, becoming foreign and distant, as did the mysterious land where these perfect, never-fading roses grew.

Didn’t that sound like a fairy tale? Just in our history, there has been no magic mirror, no Queen-Witch whose crown shines like a star, and no apple full of poison, but there is a coffin of shimmering crystal, and a prince that sleeps in it. Of course, there are also roses—thousands of roses.

“Rosa” Mina turned to me again. “Please take them; you will surely love them. Just try to feel them…”

She put a flower in my hands. The drops of nectar froze on the wax petals, and the first rays of the dawn sun made them sparkle like diamonds. “This variety is special.” Her voice sounded soft. “It's called the Deva-Rosa. I want to show you where they grow. It’s so beautiful. I want you to come with me, Rosa. We’ll be there together, you and me.” Mina smiled dazzlingly, but something was wrong with that smile. The once-sensual kiss lips were painfully curved, the corners awfully lifted, like the forever-frozen smile of a Venetian mask, and the warm pink shade was gone.

I was always jealous of her lips. They were so tender, plump, and enticing. All her features attracted attention, but it was her lips that made Mina's beauty unique.

She shone like the sun, easily becoming the center of everyone's attention—a beautiful white swan. The main heroine of the story.

Then there was me, only a shadow of her perfection—gloomy and pale as the moon, the complete opposite of the burning heat and the sexuality of my sister. Unlike Mina's, my features were not sensual and breathtaking; no, they were old-fashioned, like those of a porcelain doll. I didn’t find myself ugly or unattractive; just ordinary. One of a hundred million. The classic tragic heroine of a Gothic novel, someone like me, doesn’t make it to the finale.

Now looking at Mina, I can no longer see her life; her fire has almost been extinguished, leaving embers smoldering. And only her hair, like a burning sunset, was the only bright spot in her appearance. They crimson her white dress like blood rivers in the snow.

“Rosa, come with me.” The touch of her hands was icy and gave me a nasty shiver. It wasn’t Mina anymore. “Let's go, please. We can admire roses together. We can be together, Rosa. Remember what we promised each other when we were kids? Forever.” Mina leaned towards me with her whole body, completely trespassing into my space, and with her intimacy came the suffocating, sugary smell of roses. It was a thick, enveloping aroma that instantly sat in the lungs. I thought that if I breathed it in deeper, these strange, unnatural flowers would sprout in my veins, intertwine with my bones, and create a new home for themselves in my body.

“No!” I exclaimed, pushing Mina away from me. “I don’t want that, Mina. I don’t want you or those freaking roses in my life.”

Suddenly on my feet, I took a few steps away from the pale Mina, who was staring at a rose that had fallen to the ground. Her posture was as vulnerable as that of a wounded animal, and her limp arms reached for the flower, which, surprisingly, began to darken and fade, touching the ground. In her eyes, once radiant with happiness and dreaming, stood tears, and her lips began to tremble. It was as if a child whose beloved toy had been mercilessly abused had fallen to her knees, picked up a dying bud, and, in despair, pinned it to her lips.

“How can you be so cruel, Rosa?” Mina whispered, her lips gently touching the petals. “You hurt them; it breaks their heart. Can’t you just accept their love? Accept the roses?” She continued to kiss the petals.

“What are you talking about, Mina? Whose love should I accept?” I asked cautiously. Her behavior began to frighten me.

“You must give yourself to them, Rosa; I must give you to them.” Mina ignored my question, methodically kissing a faded flower. His dead petals began to fall away, slowly, baring his heart. “O Rosa, the rose is a rose; the rose is a deva; the deva is a rose; is a rose.”

“Mina!” I called her by her name in an alarm. The entire situation had me in a state of primitive terror. Mina began slowly swaying from side to side in time to your words, all the while continuing to say, “Rose is a rose, the rose is a deva.” It was meaningless, like the ravings of a madman. The words were repeated in an endless circle, like a prayer or a ritual chant. Mina’s voice grew louder, higher, and higher until it broke, and abruptly she stopped all movement, standing there like a graceful statue.

Once I admired her every move; now I want to cover my eyes so I never have to see her again. What happened after became the most traumatic thing in my life. I can never forget it, no matter how much I want it. It seemed to be imprinted on my eyelids, and even after closing my eyes in my sleep, I couldn’t get rid of those memories.

Her movements were fleeting, like the wings of a butterfly. Here she is before me, tense and waiting, and then her throat crosses a ragged line, and blood rushes through her body like a waterfall.

Eyes shining from tears are wide open and so resemble smooth black pearls, and lips are opened as if waiting for a kiss. For a second, Mina's body stretched like a thin string and then softened, falling on the grass. I heard someone start screaming; the sound was so deafening and heartbreaking that I wanted to curl up in a ball and cover my ears with my hands, so I couldn’t hear.

I found myself screaming. I needed to call for help; I had to call an ambulance, and I had to try to help her. Put my arms around her neck and cover her gaping red velvet wound.

But I was yelling about something else instead. My name is not Rosa; you hear me, Mina! I am not her. · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

I awoke in a frenzy, sweating profusely and with a wildly pounding heart from an endlessly recurring nightmare.

This dream has haunted me for months since Mina’s funeral. Night after night, I have lived this sunrise over and over again. I didn’t like morning anymore; I started avoiding sunlight and hiding in the velvet folds of the night, sharing my loneliness with the darkness. I made the moon my friend, and the stars my silent witnesses.

My memory is folded paper, folded a thousand times. Sometimes, I want to unwrap it, but not completely: open the brittle edges of the fragile sashes, smooth out the folds and creases with my fingers, spread out the time sequence. Unwrap it just a little, and then fold again, mixing letters and days, reality and dreams. I never want to open the pages where the memories of that morning are stored. Every time I get almost to the end, moments before the final, I run away to the safety of happy days.

I try to come up with a new ending to this story, a different ending, but the dream comes to me like a cat, gently calling me into its embrace, and I find myself again in a place I don’t want to be.

It’s early in the morning, and the sun is just rising above the horizon, shimmering like a limitless purple-pink ocean.

In Mina’s crimson hair are snow-white roses, and her dress looks like an intricately woven ruffle and lace. Her pale hands holding flowers, her puffy lips in a painful smile, and her bare feet—the ground must be cold since it was the middle of October. Her blood… and the roses. And if it were possible to personify hatred and death, then for me, it would be roses.

I hated and despised these flowers with all my heart. They brought only sorrow and gloominess into my life. The beautiful symbol of mourning solemnity. They started it. They ended it all.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

I was sixteen when Mina first called me Rosa. One January afternoon, she came home with a basket of the most gorgeous flowers I’ve ever seen in my life. Scarlet like the blood of a rose, they were magnificent and perfect. From that day on, I became Rosa. Why did Mina start calling me that? She never spoke. But she completely forgot my real name. For the whole world, I was now Rosa. After this case, every day in our small apartment, the roses became more and more numerous, until every inch of free space was filled with scarlet buds. Their smell was suffocating, thick, and sticky like honey. It is absorbed into the skin, hair, and dissolved in the blood. It made me dizzy and nauseous, and I could taste it on my tongue with every breath. But it wasn’t just a smell. It was a color that screamed “red,” like blood itself. It poured over our house, coloring the entire apartment in a disturbing shade.

After that, every day in our house, the roses became more and more numerous until they filled all the surrounding space.

Soon, they became so numerous that our house looked like a tomb filled with scarlet petals hanging from the ceiling. We've been arranging here with all honors, breathing in a haze as imperceptible as rose-scented mist.

In all the time I lived there, not a single flower withered. It was frightening and exciting at the same time. Day followed night, and night gave way to day; but no petal lost its pristine beauty, and no bud bowed its heavy head in sorrow. There was not a single bouquet that would dilute this velvet sea with its mourning black.

And if that did happen, Mina cried long and hard over these flowers and blamed herself for not saving them. At night, I heard the sound of her apologies and her fanatical prayers.

Whether she prayed to God or to the Devil, I couldn't tell. I'll find out for whom these prayers were intended many years later.

Roses were always sent with a postcard and a box of expensive chocolates with some intricate filling. The box was necessarily in the form of a heart. The signature was also one; once the unchanged calligraphic handwriting deduced only one phrase, “For you,”

Mina never told me who gave her these magic flowers or why the roses didn’t wither.

I tried to ask her these questions several times, but she only brushed them off, throwing her long hair from one shoulder to the other and angrily declaring, “You must love them; you don't need to know more.”

Mina also dyed her hair scarlet, like roses.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Constantly surrounded by these flowers was unbearable, and one day I packed up all my things and moved in with a friend, leaving Mina alone in her regal rosary.

My first night away from home, away from the roses and Mina, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned anxiously in bed hour after hour; but the dream never came, and then the phone rang. Mina called. Crying, she begged to come home, and when I asked her why, she barely whispered, “The roses are wilted.”

I hung up, and Mina never called me again. Two years had passed. My life had changed, and I think my luck had smiled. I found wonderful friends who were eccentric and bright. I had a great and caring boyfriend, and the internship at ballet school was promising. Everything worked out perfectly, and there were no more roses.

Until my twentieth birthday, a huge bleeding bouquet of scarlet roses tied with topaz-embroidered ribbon appeared in my new apartment. The candy box was heart-shaped, and the caption read, “For You.”

I burned the bouquet, threw out the chocolate, and tore the note apart, and blew it to the wind.

No one was supposed to see or know. Even me. Exactly eight days after these flowers appeared, I got a call from former neighbors in the apartment complex Mina was still living in. I was urged to come and deal with the situation; the smell of rot and death was unbearable, and Mina didn't open the doors or answer the phone. I opened the door with my key. Opening it wide, I crossed the threshold and could not contain a short scream. All the once-luxurious roses had rotted, dripping thick, stinking jugs on the floor and accumulating in gleaming poisonous lakes. Every corner of the space was occupied by large vases with black velvet buds and tall candles. After my move, Mina got rid of all the furniture, leaving only the big bed, which was now covered with dried stems strewn with thorns.

This place was like a grave — cold and dark — where my sister was supposed to rest. Going deeper, I found no hint of Mina's presence. Absolutely nothing. Only putrid roses and an empty heart-shaped box.

Mina was gone. For a whole year, I tried to find her without success. Old friends, distant relatives, acquaintances, and any other connections she might have ever had—I checked everything, but there was nothing to help me find her. It’s like she never existed.

In the two years we’ve been apart, I didn’t know anything about her. Mina didn’t call, and when I tried to contact her, she would reply with a short message, always the same: "Roses have wilted; come back." just like the night I left her.

All Mina had ever thought about since that unfortunate January day were these sinister roses.

The police began an investigation. Two years after her disappearance, Mina became officially missing.

And a year after that, she showed up at my door in the twilight of the fall morning, barefoot, in a sophisticated lace dress with a rose crown on her head. From the Mina that I knew, all that remained was her hair—long, silky, and crimson like blood and roses.

She still kept calling me Rosa, calling me out, and promising that we’d be happy together. That it will be only us, forever. She promised to show me where these strange flowers bloom, which she called the Deva-Rose, although these were not her words, but those of someone distant and unfamiliar to me, Hongjoong.

And then...then Mina died. The dawn painted her body in pink shades, flooded the grass with sparkling gold, and dyed the white roses of her crown scarlet. She slit her throat. Ragged a sharp spike into it. As it turned out, even the tiniest rose spikes were deadly. It was a nightmarish and, at the same time, majestic end to her story. The image of Mina haunts me in dreams even now—this distant gaze in her pearly eyes and a complete absence of fear of death. No, Mina wasn't afraid. She welcomed death as an old friend, graciously opening her arms.

It was her exodus. I remember screaming loudly. Blood thundered in my ears, and tears flowed in an endless crystal stream. I screamed that my name wasn’t Rosa; that I wasn’t her, and never would be.

Her funeral was truly a royal one. Rain and thunder rattle in the sky, as if raising a toast in her honor. The flat haloes of the black umbrellas swayed peacefully as the guests made their sorrowful speeches.

Mina seemed to fall asleep, dressed in an old-fashioned wedding dress, lying there like a princess, drowning in thousands of roses. The flowers were brought at dawn. Their color was deep and dark, as if every petal was filled with the gloaming of the night. They mourned with me. But I knew better. It wasn’t the end; it was the beginning. Death follows life in an endless cycle of rebirth. When one flower fades, plant a new one. Back home that night, I found a black envelope at my door, sealed with a monogram wax seal.

It lacked an address and the sender's signature. The message was clear and concise. "I live for you, my Rosa."

· · • • • ✤ • • • · · I went to the window and opened the curtains with my newfound determination. It’s time to stop being afraid and run away. Whatever it is, I’ll find out what happened to Mina. Let her start it all, but I’ll be the one to finish the story. The last surviving girl.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · · How naive I was then, how stupid. The moth always flies to the flame, attracted by the warm fluttering light; he himself goes to his death.

I was that moth. Without realizing it, I came to my inevitable fate, which has been waiting for me for centuries, maybe longer. Their hands have stretched out since the darkest times, when the light didn't exist, and the Devil was as real as you and I. At that time, everyone knew his face, felt his hot breath on his skin. The story I’m going to tell you isn't going to be bright and sweet; we’re going to go down to hell and come back. I'll take you through the dark woods to the horrors of uncharted lands where barefoot priestesses rock their sharp teeth in alluring smiles. I will take you to the castle where the prince rests in a crystal coffin and make you drink wine that tastes like blood.

Now I have to ask you, "Are you afraid of the dark and what’s hidden in it?" But my question is, "Love, do you like roses?"

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