#female psychological thrillers
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hadesoftheladies · 10 months ago
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FEMALE MOVIE/TV RECS (PART 5 / HORROR & CRIME DRAMA)
got inspired from a recommendation post so decided to make a list of movies and shows with female-centric stories/female protagonists. since i can't post all of the genres in one post, i'll split it into multiple posts and y'all can save or add to the list as you wish. (disclaimer: i have watched most of these, but i only know about the existence of others. not every movie/show on these lists will be my recommendation. my recommendations will be beneath the list with reasons. also some of these are way better than others in terms of storytelling/performance--which is why i'll list my faves separately):
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Common Themes:
-Dangerous girls (they ain't innocent)/ girlhood as violent
-Stressed out and melancholic female detectives and authors (lots of drinking/smoking)
-Mothers who've seen too fucking much to play games/I'm a good mother until it doesn't let up
-Women handling shit/getting shit done
-Mothers who didn't want to be mothers but here we fucking are so might as well handle shit
-Evil women who are also unfortunately hot
-Female sociopaths (not always negatively portrayed)
HAVEN'T WATCHED
The Royal Hotel
The Silent Twins
The Kitchen
The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart
I'm Thinking of Ending Things
Sharp Objects
Killing Eve
Abigail
Heavenly Creatures
A Quiet Place Part 2
Panic Room
Alice, Darling
Blood Red Sky
Rust Creek
The Marsh King's Daughter
Pearl
Longlegs
GOOD STUFF (NEVER WATCHING AGAIN THOUGH!)
Bad Sisters (8/10) (sisters plan to kill their sister's abusive husband)
Yellowjackets (9/10) (love as cannibalism)
Candy (7.5/10) (she's just a killer lol)
Cruella (6.5/10)(help my mom is a narcissist and it's hereditary)
Jennifer's Body (7/10) (boys aren't people lmao)
Bird Box (8/10)
Under the Bridge (8/10)
PERSONAL NOTES
I watched Tragedy Girls years ago, and I remember being grossed out and having a lot of fun as well. If you like Jennifer's Body, you'll probably like Tragedy Girls, too. And if you like Tragedy Girls, you may also enjoy Thoroughbreds. All three have a twisted sense of girlpower.
The Call isn't scary so much as its nerve-wracking and upsetting. It's not gory (although there is violence), but it deals with heavy subject matter. I can, however, promise a satisfying ending. Even though I doubt it would put you at ease.
Horror is my least favourite genre so bear that in mind. I just hate jump scares (because I hate being startled) and I don't like gore though there are times where it doesn't bother me so much. So this is definitely not an exhaustive list on horror recs. Crime is as close as I usually get to such dark stuff so I put the dark crimes, psychological thrillers and horrors together. I don't even want to talk about these that much because I'm nauseous already.
Watch at your own risk.
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polydeuces · 4 months ago
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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖊: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌
𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)
𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; After weeks of silent observation, you finally step into Dexter Morgan’s world, confronting him in a dim alley with the knowledge of his darkest secrets. Drawn to your cryptic words and unnerving calm, Dexter is left with the choice; uncover the first traces of a deeper and more dangerous connection or lead the life he has been for years.
𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (833 words) Themes of stalking, manipulation, morally gray dynamics, psychological tension, and mentions of violence.
ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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He felt restless, a sense of anticipation swirling beneath him. It was then that he spotted you— standing at the edge of the alley, how had he not seen you before? He’s usually very aware of his surroundings. Your silhouette was sharp against the dim glow of a street lamp. There was something undeniably captivating about you, an energy that pulled him in like gravity. He hesitated took a step closer.
“Dexter Morgan,” you said, your voice low and velvety, as if you had been waiting for him. The sound sent a shiver down his spine.
“How do you know my name?” he asked, the question spilling from his lips before he could stop it.
Your lips curled into a knowing smile. “I know far more than just your name.”
He felt his heartbeat quicken, the sudden rush of adrenaline igniting his instincts. Who was this woman? Why did she feel so.. familiar? “What is it you want?” he asked, his tone laced with caution.
“I know the real you and I want to help you understand,” You replied, stepping into the light. The glow illuminating your features— striking eyes, an intensity that felt almost magnetic. “You have urges, Dexter. Dark ones. I know what it feels like to wrestle with them.”
He felt is composure slip. No one spoke of his urges, not in the way you did. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Don’t I?” you countered, taking a step closer to him. “You hunt those who deserve it. You’ve chosen a path, and it is a path that many have traveled before you.”
“Who are you?” he demanded, trying to regain control of the conversation.
“Someone who has been exactly where you are,” you replied. He felt as though your gaze would pierce straight through him. “And someone who can lead you to others like you, if you’re willing to follow.”
Dexter hesitated, a flicker of intrigue battling against the instinctual wariness that had kept him alive all these years. You were unlike anyone he had encountered. She was unlike anyone he had encountered, sure Lila and Lumen had their own allure to them. But you were a riddle wrapped in shadows, and the thought of uncovering more about you, about this connection, was too tempting too resist.
“What do you mean, ‘others like me’? he pressed, squinting his eyes slightly.
“There’s a community,” you revealed, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.“They embrace the darkness, turn it into something powerful. You can help them use that power to perfect their craft, and they can show you how to embrace your true self without guilt.”
His breath caught in his throat as you spoke. Your words echoing in his mind as he tried to decode it all, there was a strange allure in your tone. “What’s in it for you?”
Your expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. “Understanding and liberation,” you said simply. “You have the potential to more than just a monster, Dexter. You could become a force, a leader of your own.”
The weight of her words pressed down on him, igniting a fire of both fear and fascination. He had prided himself of his code and only ever working alone, never sharing his work with others, not completely. Yet he felt the pull of your promise tugging at him, until his cautionary voice screamed at him that this was a dangerous game.
“Why should I trust you?” he challenged? thought his resolve was already weakening.
“Because I am just like you,” you replied, stepping ever closer, the air thickening with tension. “And because I know you’re not as alone as you might feel you are.”
The darkness inside Dexter whispered that he could have finally someone who understood the weight of his secret life, but he was torn between skepticism and a deep need to belong. He inhaled deeply, his thoughts whirling with potential.
“Where do I find you?” he asked, the words escaping him almost against his will.
“You’re smart, Dexter, keep an eye out for the unfamiliar hiding within the familiar.” You said, your voice a sultry promise. “I will be waiting for you. Just as I have been.”
With that, you turned and vanished into the depths of the night, leaving him standing alone, grappling with the unsettling knowledge that he had encountered someone—an enigma who reminded him of himself. That scared him more than anything before. As he took a step back into the fray of the city, a new darkness unfurled within him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going on a journey that would change everything.
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do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.
taglist; @delsbtch @crustaceanwitch @stre3tleopard | taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !
important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not of my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show and the writers involved. thank you.
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ak319 · 4 months ago
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Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader
PART VI
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➺ Part V
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"Rahim, please… say something," you tried again, your patience stretched thin by the gnawing worry in your chest. This was the third time you'd asked, and with each unanswered attempt, your resolve to get to the bottom of things only grew stronger. If he didn’t speak soon, you were prepared to go straight to his family’s home yourself.
"That's it." You rose to leave, but before you could take a step, a small hand gripped your sleeve, halting you. Rahim’s expression was haunted, his eyes wide and pleading. His hand trembled, clutching you like you were his only anchor in a sea of terror. The fear in his gaze didn’t diminish your anxiety, it only sharpened it, tightening like a vice around your heart.
"You’ve got to say something, kiddo," you murmured, leaning close so he wouldn’t feel pressured. "You’re making me worry here."
Finally, after a silence that stretched unbearably long, Rahim’s voice came, barely a whisper. "U… uncle…"
You leaned in, gentle and steady. "Habib?" you prompted softly. "Are you talking about him? Yes, tell me, Rahim… what happened?"
He hesitated, the words hovering at the edge of his lips, but then, as quickly as he’d started, he fell silent again, retreating into himself. His eyes shifted away, shadowed and unreadable, as if something unspeakable lay hidden just beneath the surface.
You let out a quiet sigh, knowing that pressing him further wouldn’t help. He needed time. Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, you signaled Odai to come closer. "Odai, stay with him," you instructed, casting a final, lingering glance at Rahim
"B-but what about you, ma'am? Where are you off to?" Odai's voice trembled slightly as he watched you prepare to leave.
"To his house, with Maha," you replied firmly, glancing at the clock on your desk. It was 7:30 a.m., too early for peace but not for action.
Odai shifted uneasily. "I should go with you, and Maha can stay here."
You silenced him with a look, then took the gun from your locker, its cold weight in your hand grounding you with the resolve you needed. "I can handle it, Odai. Just watch over him and call me if anything changes."
Odai nodded reluctantly, his eyes flickering to the unconscious Rahim. And with that, you left, setting out with Maha, who looked more unnerved than usual, her hands twisting in her lap as you drove.
"What if… what if it’s related to the story I told you, ma’am?” Maha's voice was small, hesitant. “And from what you’ve told me about Rahim, and everything… what if Habib’s… possessed again? I warned you, didn’t I? It’s not right to get tangled with him, or that family. The way his brother insulted you…” Her hands clenched in her lap, remembering that day, the bitter words she still hadn’t forgotten.
“Maha, we talked about this.” You kept your voice calm, though tension simmered beneath. “Habib needs help. This… this might be something worse, yes. God, I have no idea what we’re going to find there or how deep this goes. But if this is connected to him, I’m stepping in, Basim’s objections be damned.”
Maha looked at you with renewed determination. Her gaze shifted to the gun secured in its holder beside you, her expression hardening with resolve.
“Yes, ma’am.”
═════ ◈ ═════
When you reached the house, the air was thick with an unsettling silence, the kind that seeped into your bones. There was something about it that felt wrong, like an invisible void, as if you had come to collect the fragments of something lost. The house, once a familiar place of comfort, now felt like a hollow shell. You shook off the feeling, attributing it to the paranoia caused by Rahim's cryptic behavior and the events of the night.
"Ma’am, he... he’s very sick. He wouldn’t stop saying your name..." Kadir's voice faltered as he stood beside Habib's bed. You looked down at the unconscious man, your grip tightening on his hand as his body trembled. His mouth was dry, letting out soft, pitiful whimpers that seemed to grow quieter, calmer, as if he found some semblance of peace in your presence.
"What did the doctor say?" You asked, keeping your voice steady, despite the deepening sense of dread gnawing at you.
"He has a high fever, and he's under extreme stress..." Kadir responded his voice a mixture of concern and exhaustion. You glanced at Dana, who was sitting beside Habib, her eyes filled with a motherly worry that was almost suffocating. She didn't need to say anything, her gaze spoke volumes, each one filled with unspoken fear and you couldn't take it anymore.
"I’ve had enough." You stood abruptly, your voice hardening with resolve. "I’m taking him with me. And nobody here is going to stop me." Your stance was unwavering, your eyes locked with Kadir's, whose face paled at the weight of your words.
Kadir seemed to hesitate, but the look in your eyes made it clear you wouldn't be moved. He nodded slowly, his expression resigned, knowing full well what you meant.
"I just..." you continued, turning your attention to them, "Do you both know where Rahim is?"
The couple exchanged a glance, confusion crossing their faces. "Rahim? He must be in his room... You want me to call him?" Dana’s voice was tentative, unsure of the sudden shift in the air.
"No, no." You cut her off. "He’s not in his room. He’s in my bungalow." You watched as realization hit them like a wave, their faces draining of color as you explained the strange events that had unfolded, the boy's frantic running, the collapse, and the chilling connection to Habib. Their expressions grew ashen, the weight of the situation settling over them like a suffocating fog.
Kadir blinked in disbelief, his voice a low whisper. "I better go... inform Basim of this."
"No." You turned, cutting him off once again, your tone sharp. "Not until I leave with Habib. I am not in the mood to deal with him right now. Trust me, you don’t want me to." Your eyes flickered to the unconscious figure of Habib, then back to Maya, your resolve unshakable.
Maya, who had been quietly observing the situation, nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting yours with understanding. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. The decision had already been made.
"In fact, you both are coming with me, I think... Rahim might not mind it." You said with a touch of certainty, even though your mind raced with the implications of the situation. The bruises you had seen on the child’s body were unmistakable, and they burned in your mind. You were certain they were from Basim. You had seen his cruelty before, and this was no different. A gut feeling told you the two were somehow connected, and the thought churned uneasily in your stomach.
"Um, yes, definitely." Kadir’s voice quivered slightly, his worry for his grandson and son making him agree without much resistance.
"Good," you responded briskly, trying to push the anxiety down.
The air between the five of you was tense, the weight of unspoken words hanging like a heavy cloud as you made your way back to the bungalow. Your eyes were drawn to Habib, his limp form resting against his father in the backseat, his chest rising and falling weakly. The image of him like that, vulnerable, fragile, almost lost, was a stain in your mind that wouldn't fade.
By the time you arrived at the bungalow, the place felt more like a sanctuary and a prison in equal measure. The heavy silence from earlier still clung to the house, but now you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Dr Ali was already there, pacing in front of the door, looking visibly tense. He was here to check on Rahim and Habib.
═════ ◈ ═════
it had been three days since the atmosphere in the bungalow had turned so heavy, each day thick with the silence of unspoken fears and unanswered questions. Habib, thank God, was showing signs of improvement, but he was still too weak, refusing to eat and constantly haunted by nightmares. The only time he seemed to find peace was when you were by his side. His vulnerability clung to you like a weight, and no matter how many times you tried to shake the unease off, it lingered.
In the other room, Rahim was still as quiet as ever. He hadn’t spoken a word since you brought him back, and every day that passed without him opening up felt like another failure, a missed opportunity to get to the root of whatever was haunting him. Still, his grandparents’ presence did seem to calm him in some way, though you couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough. You prayed for his voice every night, hoping he would say something, anything, to give you a clue about what he was going through.
Kadir had told you that Basim and his wife had gone to visit some relatives for a wedding, which felt... odd, to say the least. How could a wedding be more important than their son’s condition? And why hadn’t they been told about what was happening? Kadir, of course, insisted that it was better they didn’t know yet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it. His reasoning didn’t sit right with you. And then, there was Samir and his family, who had moved out of the village with no warning. Something didn’t add up. Why would they leave so suddenly, just as things were escalating?
Maha’s voice broke through your thoughts, her tone tentative but insistent. "There is... I just... feel fishy, ma'am. I mean, all the Rahim fiasco and how Kadir insists on you marrying-"
You held up your hand, cutting her off, your voice steady but carrying a weight of finality. "It was my decision, Maha. I want it to be done."
"But, why, ma'am... why so fast? Shouldn't we wait for things to settle?"
You let out a slow breath, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup as you gathered your thoughts. "Maha, I can't have some man in my bungalow..." You trailed off, hoping she understood the gravity of what you were saying. "Y'know, try to understand."
Maha was silent for a moment, her eyes dropping to the floor as she processed your words. Then, without a word, she nodded, her expression softening with understanding.
"I have... talked to my parents," you continued, your voice low but resolute. "And they agreed. Fortunately. Tomorrow, go find the cleric. Bring him, and in the afternoon, the ceremony has to be done with." Your parents were shocked to hear your sudden announcement but as you kept the details about the current situation mostly vague they agreed, somewhat happy and given our urgency they agreed to be on a video call during the ceremony. It was going to be a small one, Habib's parents, Rahim and you both.
"Yes, ma'am." Her tone was firm, her eyes momentarily drifting to the hallway. You followed her gaze, only to catch a glimpse of Rahim standing by the corner of the hallway before he quickly disappeared out of sight. You sat there for a moment, your heart thudding against your chest as you absorbed the subtle shift in the room
"Rahim..." You stood up, your mind heavy with worry, and moved toward the hallway. You quickly were on your feet and stalked in the direction, Maha, following behind.
With a gentle knock, you entered the room, your eyes falling on the boy sitting quietly on the bed. His back was turned, half of his body facing the door, but his posture was stiff, unnatural, like someone trying to brace against something they couldn’t see or understand. The atmosphere around him was thick with tension, his usual mischievous energy nowhere to be found.
"Um, Maha..." you said softly, and she nodded before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with him.
You stepped forward slowly, the floor creaking faintly under your weight as you sat down beside him. For a long moment, you said nothing. It seemed there was nothing to say, no words that could bridge the silence between you both. You just sat there, letting your presence speak for itself.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the stillness, soft and hesitant. "You... are going to marry...?"
At first, you were unsure whether it was a question or a statement, the words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. You glanced at him, his face still angled down, avoiding your gaze, but the emptiness in his eyes struck you hard.
"Yes... I am... isn't that a good thing?" You gave him a soft smile, one that didn’t reach your heart, but you tried. Gently, you reached out and rubbed his back, trying to offer comfort, though you knew he wasn’t the same boy who had always bounced around, full of life and questions. "You getting this cool aunt." You chuckled to lighten the mood.
But his response was far from what you expected.
"Don't."
"You...don't...want me to marry Habib?" He stayed quiet. Once again.
"Rahim…" you whispered, though you knew he probably wasn’t listening. But you couldn’t stop yourself. "Talk to me, please."
"They...they...always...just didn't let me tell you. I wanted to." His leg started bouncing and you immediately held his hand, the other on his leg to calm him. "Take breaths, I am here, you are safe. No body is going to do anything. So, talk freely, and fully. Whoever it is about. Even if it's Habib, if he's done something to you, tell me that too. I won't say a word to you, or anyone about this to anyone. Even if it is about... the thing regarding your uncle being possessed and all...I know the story...Habib himself told me, so don't think of me as a stranger. Alright?"
He nodded and wiped a tear. He took moments to clam down and with a heavy breath continued. "My...uncle...he..." He breathed in a breath.
"Was never possessed."
“He’s known for his extraordinary beauty. I have not seen him myself though. So, up until he was about sixteen, everything seemed fine. But then, he suddenly vanished from his friends’ lives and stopped attending school. Despite the family’s best efforts to conceal the issue, it eventually came to light that he was... possessed."
"When I was younger—around sixteen—I... went through something. Something I can’t fully explain, even to this day."
"It was like... something else had control over me. I was sick...and I was dangerous. I hurt people--people I loved, hurt myself too. My family didn’t speak about it much after it was over. They believed it was better left forgotten. But I can’t forget. I’ve tried to move on, but..."
No...those...those are all stories? He gave you and himself to catch a breath then continued.
"When I was a child," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I thought...what everyone thought that...indeed Uncle was. He was praised for his beauty, and my dad... hated him for it. Every chance he got, he'd tear into him, beat him, humiliate him. It only made Uncle more closed off. He stopped going out, hid from everyone, saying he was cursed by his own looks." Rahim’s voice cracked, his gaze distant as if seeing those memories unfold all over again.
The words tumbled out of him, fast and desperate, as if he had held them in for too long. "He started saying someone was using black magic against him, someone in the family. And my dad, he... he enjoyed it. He fueled those fears and made Uncle believe he was haunted and cursed because he was angry at Uncle for rejecting my aunt's hand and just y'know jealous. Everyone around started to believe it too because he started to act...like...he was. It became this... rumour that swallowed him whole. Even the cleric knew it wasn’t true, he told everyone but no one listened. And my grandfather, even he started believing it."
Rahim’s shoulders shook, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled to contain his grief. "We live in a village where nobody talks about mental illness. People don’t understand, they don’t want to understand. They just accepted that something was wrong with him and left him to rot. But I knew… I knew it wasn’t magic. I researched on my own, in school, and I just can't figure out what's wrong with him but I know there is....there is something psychological. I wanted to help him, I tried to, but nobody would listen."
Tears streamed down his face now, his voice breaking as the words poured out like a dam finally bursting. "Dad would beat me whenever I tried to bring it up. And Grandfather who has always been helpless against my dad always said that he will be fine once he gets married… he just wants to marry Uncle off because he thinks marriage will fix him like that’s some kind of miracle cure. Especially getting him married to you.... someone of your status. But it’s all... it’s all bullshit! Marriage won’t solve anything! The medicines he takes are just mostly sleeping pills and--and some herbal stuff my grandfather gives him which are not what he needs! He needs a proper treatment...proper treatment."
Rahim’s outburst ended in a sob, his chest heaving as he broke down completely. He was no longer the reserved, cautious boy you knew, he was vulnerable, raw, and heartbroken, carrying the weight of years of pain and helplessness on his young shoulders.
"When you came here and even better, took interest in my Uncle, I thought that maybe marriage wouldn't be bad because he would be free and you would get him treated, I would tell you about it myself when the time is right. It was...about to happen but...again my Dad...he ruined it, I thought it was over, you were out of his life, but I still hoped, he loves you so much and I know you do too so...I was ready to help my uncle run away but.."
You were too shocked to even ask him why he had stopped speaking and simply let out a questioning hum.
"My mum and dad… they… they tried to…"
"Tried to what?" You were both startled by the sudden ringtone of your phone. Seeing Odai's name on the screen, you quickly answered, bracing yourself against the possibility of more bad news.
"Ma'am, I checked the footage from the village gate. Samir left last night with his family around 4 a.m. But Basim and his wife… they never actually left the village."
Your eyes widened. "What? Are you saying… they’re still here?"
"Yes, ma'am," Odai confirmed before you ended the call. You turned back to Rahim, whose face had gone pale, frozen in place as if dreading the implications of this revelation.
"Rahim…" you said slowly, your voice soft yet urging. "They tried to what? And… where are they?"
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Part VII
(AN: Did you guys expect that ʘ‿ʘ? Do comment and lemme know! Also, I know I should have mentioned it earlier but the story is set in 1990's due to which especially in the village people don't use much tech, like wifi and all cuz not everybody has computers etc that's why Rahim did whatever research he could in his school's library and computer.)
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filmrating · 7 months ago
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This poll was requested by the submitter. Requests are open. Send the film or tv show, you want people to rate, to our inbox and we’ll make a poll for you.
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ak-harper-loves-fiction · 3 months ago
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"But it doesn’t stop me from feeling like no matter what I do, I have no one. I can’t tell anyone anything. They’ll leave me one day, right? Everyone always does."
-A.K. Harper
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ariadnethedragon · 1 year ago
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THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN (2016), Dir. Tate Taylor
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tristfulnico · 6 months ago
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i will never ever EVER get over "i saw the tv glow"
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bitter69uk · 28 days ago
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Recently watched: The Mafu Cage (1978). Tagline: “A terrifying love story.” Basically, nothing I say can prepare you for this truly disturbing and hypnotic oddity. Ellen (Lee Grant) and Cissy (Carol Kane) are two adult sisters leading an isolated, codependent existence in a palatial mansion somewhere in Los Angeles. We gradually learn that both their parents are dead; they grew up in the jungles of Africa, there’s a vague sense of unspecified trauma in their past, and that their father was an anthropologist who studied simians. Cissy still yearns for Africa and has seemingly never adjusted to life in the US. Level-headed, responsible and maternal Ellen combines her career as an astronomer at Griffith Observatory with caring for mentally fragile Cissy, who is childlike, ethereal – but also capable of shocking brutality. When Ellen develops romantic feelings for a male colleague, the sisters’ delicate equilibrium swiftly unravels with horrific consequences ... (Note that while Kane (pictured) has the showier role, Grant is equally remarkable. Both actresses are exemplary). The Mafu Cage is “horror adjacent” without being remotely kitsch, camp or exploitative: it's a deeply cerebral psychological meditation on insanity and claustrophobic, dysfunctional family dynamics. I’d argue relevant reference points would include What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) by Robert Aldrich, Secret Ceremony (1968) by Joseph Losey, That Cold Day in the Park (1969) and 3 Women (1977) by Robert Altman and the 1975 documentary Grey Gardens. Unsurprisingly, the distributors were flummoxed about how to promote this curiosity: it was marketed as a horror flick under various titles including Don’t Ring the Doorbell (“Chop, chop … Slice, slice … Another man would be so nice!”), My Sister, My Love and Deviation. The Mafu Cage was little seen at the time but has gradually been embraced as a cult film. Warning: some of the images in The Mafu Cage will haunt your subconscious forever! A bonus: the supporting cast includes Will Geer (Grandpa Walton)! Watch it here.
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martyrdeer · 1 month ago
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SANGLANTE IMMORTALITE
synopsis: wracked with cultural fears and personal dreads of the aging process, elara retreats from the world behind her lover, isolde. the two take comfort in one another, sharing tender dinner preparations and solemnly wordy discourses on the nature of beauty and immortality within their silent house. but buried beneath the apparent serenity is a dark reality: their search for eternal youth obtained by consuming the vital essence of others. while elara is battling the haunting whispers of society's expectations, isolde's mysterious charm and their shared rituals become at once a source of refuge and a chilling epiphany regarding the extent they will go to preserve their ageless beauty.
tags: my original characters!! themes of aging and societal beauty standards! cannibalism, implied violence, mentions of murder, body horror, & dark romance!!
word count is 1.2k!!
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The smell of the comforting melancholy rainfall took residence in my bathroom. I opened my window ajar earlier because the weatherman on the radio predicted a storm. Now I'm sitting at my vanity staring into my pale complexion. I look rather sickly, my purple eyebags betraying me. I roughly drag my fingers against my cheek. They leave a faded red mark afterward. I started to get that unsettling feeling that the patriarchal society was right. That women start to become ripe at thirty. All of my precious dollars flushed down the drain along with the false promises of those nonsense anti-aging creams.
“Elara?” My darling, Isolde calls out to me. Her soothing voice snaps me out of the madness. My head turns to the side where the door is. My senses come back to me. I hear a muffled Nina Simone play on our record player. I glance back at my reflection before slipping back out to my kitchen. My silk robe fluttered behind me as I paced to the kitchen, Isolde doesn’t like to wait. Once I got into our kitchen, I smelled a new yet delectable scent. I beamed as I saw Isolde stirring something in the pot. I sneak up on her with a devious smile on my face. When I was up against her, I slipped my hand down her back.
I lean in to look down in the pot & I chuckle. Surprisingly I didn’t frighten her. Her stiffened back eased into my touch. I sniff again, taking into the smell. “What’s this one?” I whisper to her. I felt her lovingly glance as she lifted the spoon. She stayed silent as she held the spoon up to my mouth. I slid my hand under it, tasting it. “Les poumons de notre ami,” Isolde finally tells me. I smile as she says it, she’s always naming her crafts in French. “It's incredible,” I insist, my grin still plastered on my face. She nods as a thank you, “I thought it would be nice to have a friend for dinner.”
I huff while preparing the table, “You’re right. And I’ll always provide the ingredients. Anything for you, my dear.” I place our wine glasses next to our plates. My eyes seem to trail back to Isolde. She’s pouring the soup into the bowls cautiously. When she was done, I strolled back to assist her. Isolde hands me the bowl, I glance down at it while taking it to the table. The soup has Gruyère & bay leaf melted on its surface. If I wasn’t smiling enough, I was now. I place my bowl down as I sit. I look up at Isolde, patiently waiting for her.
When she sits, I am reminded of her immortal beauty. I recall that December night at my father’s work party. The first time I saw her across the room drinking her white wine and talking to a relative of mine. I never understood Sappho’s ramblings until I met Isolde. She was so breathtaking that it made me envious. I remember staring into her perpetual virtue, cursing myself for letting my looks slip away. I asked her how she stayed so fresh-faced, dying to let me in on her secret. The way the seasons change with her. How she had the universe under her control. I will never forget how she batted her eyes at me. Spoke softly in my ear with a gentle laugh, “If I told you, I would have to kill you.”
I came home the next day around noon. My day was shorter than usual, I struggled to walk without aching through the door. Some days I begin to feel my age. I was met with a silent welcome. Others would become worried if their partner didn’t come to them. But I’m not that codependent of Isolde. I can still feel her presence throughout the home. That’s what comforts my pain. I slip off my shrug as I stroll to my living room, I search for her. I find her resting on her wool chair peacefully reading. Like many times before I sneak up behind her and kiss her cheek. I mumble against her cheek, “Happiness was like a green vine spreading through her, stretching fine tendrils, bearing flowers through her flesh.”
Isolde’s eyes lit up as I spoke, she stared down at me as I sat next to her. “I feel I stand in a desert with my hands outstretched, and you are raining down upon me,” She quoted to me. My eyes scan her face while I smile sweetly at her. I feel like an idiotic fool when I stare at her. I want to devour myself into her beauty & soul. Isolde grazes my face with her hand, her touch is gentle. She brushes a strand of my hair out of my face and pushes it behind my face. My vulnerability starts to grow as her thumb hovers over my cheek. She whispers to me, “You have a cut.” I raised an eyebrow when Isolde’s thumbnail pressed into my cut. My voice is low because I am lost in her touch, “I didn't even notice.”
That night, Isolde was cooking dinner like clockwork. And I was doing my daily routine where I mindlessly gaze into my reflection. The leftover rain smell began to rust in my bathroom. My main focus is my cut, I fear that it might scar. Despite being the size of my nail, it was deep. Isolde promised me that if it did, she would kiss it every day for me. And she gave me a quote along with her oath. “Scars are the threads that weave beauty and bravery into our souls." I wonder where she got it from. After I was done with my insecurities, I went back to where Isolde led. I watch her as I rest my chin on my hand. I temporarily forget everything else in the world while watching her prepare the food. “And this one is called?” I politely pander, referring to the food. She beams up at me and says, “Coeur de ton ennemi.”
At dinner, we eat in solitude. A beguiling harmony plays in my head as I feel myself age backward while eating my meal. I take a sip of the white wine that tastes so rich & refreshing. I can taste Isolde’s endlessly laudable remedy in the meat. The constraint from a chauvinistic coterie that found its way into society’s consciousness was lifted off my shoulders. I start to smile as I take another sip of my wine, feeling celebratory. Isolde notices my happiness and she dittos my simper. “Why are you so happy?” She questions, a hint of curiosity in her voice. I sigh as I collect my words, “The explorers of the Fountain of Youth are so oblivious.” I see the confusion on Isolde’s face. I continue to explain, “They don’t know the real answer to immortality.” I place my wine glass down as she catches on. She nods with a chuckle, “Eternal youth comes from within. The flesh gracefully blurs. Somebody’s instrumental chamber of existence becomes our orchestra. In their grim slumber, we craft a melody of beauty. We absorb their souls & reservoirs. We battle against Father Time. And so far, it seems like we’re winning.” I see a smirk on her face before she sips her wine. I began to feel giddy as I opened my mouth again, “Dévoreurs d'existence."
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mariocki · 1 month ago
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Don't Answer the Phone! (1980)
"Don't you give a shit about getting this strangler off the streets?"
"What would you prescribe for the man, a firing squad?"
"That's not a bad idea. Mainly I don't want him back on the streets in a few years - or sooner, if some misguided shrink discovers he can find his ass in the dark with both hands."
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polydeuces · 3 months ago
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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔: 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖇𝖞𝖘𝖘
𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)
𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; As the city’s shadows seems to conspire around him, you reappear, offering answers and something far more dangerous: understanding. Faced with your presence, Dexter begins to question if he can keep pretending.
𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (921 words) Themes of psychological manipulation, morally gray dynamics, and tension. Includes mentions of stalking and emotional vulnerability.
𝔞 / 𝔫 ; thank you so much for the immense support and encouragement on this story. it means the world to me, keep up the comments and notes !! you keep me inspired. seriously.
ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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The days following his encounter with you were a haze for Dexter. He replayed your conversation over and over, your twisted words echoing in his mind, daring him to go further, to step deeper into a world he didn’t yet understand. You had promised answers, hinted at something he both craved and feared. He wasn’t used to this—the pull of another person, the feeling that someone could see right through him.
Late one night, he found himself back in the same place he had first met you. His instincts told him this was a mistake, brag he was letting himself be led into a trap. And yet, the part of him that longed for understanding kept him rooted to the path, moving forward through Miami’s shadowed streets.
The city seemed quieter than usual, almost holding its breath. Every sound felt amplified: his footsteps against the pavement, the faint hum of streetlights, the distant siren waiting as a he passed through silent alleyways. Then, almost as if by fate, he saw you again, leaning against the side of a crumbling brick building, arms crossed, waiting for him.
“Back so soon?” you asked, lips curling into that enigmatic smile.
“I am here for answers,” Dexter replied, feeling a chill run down his spine. “Who are you, really?” And what do you know about me?”
You turned to face him, your gaze steady, piercing. “My name is not important. And as for what I know.. I am a collector of secrets, Dexter.”
Your words cut through the night, mysterious yet tantalizing, he found himself unwillingly drawn closer. “Why would you seek me out?”
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “Because you and I are alike. We both see the world for what it is—a place that needs us, people who can do what others refuse to do. I knew the moment I saw you that we were connected.”
A feeling of wariness consumed Dexter, “Connected how?” he asked. There was something dangerous about her, something he couldn’t ignore.
“I have dedicated my entire life to uncovering the potential in people. There are those who hide in the shadows and those who embrace them.” you continue. “You, Dexter, were born to embrace them,” your voice barely a whisper, as if letting him in of a secret.
He narrowed his eyes, figuring the pull of your words. “You think I’d join some cult of yours?”
You smiled with an all knowing expression. “I’m not asking you to join, I’m simply offering you a glimpse into something larger. A place where you are understood, where your urges are celebrated.”
For the first time, Dexter felt himself falter. What you said stirred something inside him—a curiosity mixed with the undeniable desire to finally be seen. His life has been an endless game of hiding in plain sight, of pretending to fit in a world where he didn’t belong. Now, here you were offering him something different, something that hinted at freedom.
“Why do you want me?” Dexter’s voice was quiet, almost vulnerable.
“That I have told this once before, I know who you really are, Dexter.” you say, soft yet sharp enough to draw blood. You reach out, your fingers barely brushing his shoulder, a tough as light as a whisper, both cold and electric, sparking something he can’t name. “And because I can show you what you’re truly capable of. The others, they have found freedom. They’re waiting waiting for you”
His breath shudders, his composure cracking. He’s a man who’s spent his life pretending, wearing masks that no longer fit. You see it, the flicker in his eyes, the pull of curiosity warring with the instinct to turn and walk away. He doesn’t know yet if he’s afraid of you, if he’s afraid of how much he wants to listen.
You step back, slowly, deliberately. The sound of your boots on the pavement fills the air, each step like a ticking clock counting down to the moment he’ll have to choose. His silence tells you everything. He won’t follow you—not now. That’s fine. They never do, at first.
“You’ll know where to find me when you’re ready,” you say, stopping just at the edge of the shadows. You glance back at him, holding his gaze for a beat longer than necessary. His face is a mask, but you see through it. You see the hunger there, buried deep but unmistakable. “But don’t take too long. The darkness doesn’t wait forever.”
With that, you step into the night, letting it shallow you whole. The shadows close around you like a shroud, but you don’t need to look back to know he’s still standing there, staring after you. You can feel it, the weight of his gaze, the tension in his body as he wrestles with himself. You can what’s coming. The seed has been planted, and it’s only a matter of time before it grows into something he can’t control.
You’ve seen men like Dexter before. They all think they’re unique, that their darkness is different, special. And maybe it is. But it always leads them to the same place. Sooner or later, he’ll come. And when he does. he’ll wonder if he ever really had a choice at all.
As you disappear into the shadows, Dexter is left alone, staring into the darkness with a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years: anticipation.
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do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.
taglist; @delsbtch @crustaceanwitch @stre3tleopard | taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !
important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not of my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show and the writers involved. thank you.
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ak319 · 3 months ago
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Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader
PART VII
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➺ Part VI
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"All rise."
The bailiff’s voice echoed through the small courtroom, which was modest and bathed in morning light. The room fell into a hush, and dust motes drifted in the sunlight streaming through wooden shutters as if reflecting the swirling thoughts that occupied every mind in the room.
Your gaze swept the space, pausing briefly on the witnesses seated to one side. Their unease was palpable, their shoulders stiff, eyes darting toward you.
It was then your eyes settled on him.
Rahim Jafari.
"You, you won't--" His voice cracked as he whimpered, clasping his trembling hands and avoiding your gaze.
"Promise me...you won't punish Uncle for...a-anything."
"Uncle? Are you talking about Habib or Samir?"
"H-Habib..."
"Alright, I promise. But, please, Rahim, you need to tell me where your parents are. It’s crucial we know. No injustice will be done to anyone, I give you my word."
And then he began talking...
You wished, God, how you wished, it was all a dream. A cruel nightmare that you would wake from. But every word from him pulled you deeper into a reality you could barely comprehend.
"I beg you! He--he wouldn’t! I don’t even know myself! But he would never do something like this! It--it m-ust have been the magic, right?! Maybe my father was doing it for days--and—and I didn’t know--an-d that’s what made him kill them!"
He broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping him in your arms as his small body trembled against you.
"Let it out, kid...let it out."
You held him tight, feeling the weight of his pain, and the gravity of the decision ahead.
That’s when you made the promise to yourself. Whatever course of action you would take, it would be the most important decision of your life.
"Begin the trial. Case number 1050, the victims, Basim Jafari and his wife, Zara Jafari." The court clerk's voice echoed through the room, his words sharp, the weight of them sinking in.
You already knew the details. You’d seen them firsthand.
Bodies found in a shallow grave at 11:30 am yesterday, Friday. Rahim had led you and your team to the site, where the earth had been disturbed, the soil fresh, the air still thick with the scent of death.
Stab wounds. Everywhere.
Blood--everywhere.
Nothing about the scene screamed that Habib—your Habib, the boy who would flinch at the mere mention of violence—could have committed such an act. The boy you had come to care for deeply, the one whose hands you’d trusted with your own heart.
But the evidence didn’t lie.
It took a while... to wrap your head around it all. Fuck. You weren’t sure if you ever would.
But here you were.
Monday. As the presiding judge of this case.
Biased, you knew. This was the first time you’d allowed personal feelings to interfere with your role. ‘The people don’t know. Dad’s disappointed, but I’ll face him later.’ Seeing Rahim in the state he was in, seeing his broken words still echoing in your mind, your own principles felt like nothing now. What were they worth when it came to protecting a boy so lost? Right now, that was all that mattered.
And then... your eyes went to the curtains, a faint rustle as they caught the soft morning breeze. The small divider behind where he...was made to sit behind. Hidden and protected for his own sanity.
Habib Jafari.
Your boots thudded against the ground as you entered his room, the familiar scent of him lingering in the space. You flicked on the lights, watching them hum to life.
'Ma'am, don't go to meet him alone.'
You ignored Odai's warning, the weight of his concern heavy on your mind, but you trusted your instincts. I would be the last person he harms. You could almost hear your own voice echoing in the silence. And besides... I’ve handled worse than this.
"(Y/N)... you are back..."
Habib slowly rose from the bed, his movements tentative but eager. Without thinking, you opened your arms, and he came to you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body felt like a balm to your frayed nerves. You held him tightly, the pulse of his heartbeat steady beneath your palm.
But as soon as he pulled away, you heard the soft hum of fairy lights. The delicate glow outside the window caught your attention—suspended in the garden, like stars in the dimming twilight. The same lights you had arranged for the small wedding you had planned, casting their gentle glow across the night.
Habib’s gaze followed the lights, blinking slowly, as if their warmth had made him forget for a moment where he was. A shaky sigh escaped his lips. His eyes shifted back to you, and in them, there was a mixture of happiness...and weariness as if he couldn't believe this was real.
Neither could you.
"I—I always... loved when... the houses were decorated for... weddings..." His voice trembled as he spoke, his words heavy with emotion. "I thought I would never see the day... that it would be for my wedding, (Y/N)..."
You bit your lip, fighting back your own tears. The weight of it all—his pain, the reality of what was happening—was too much. Gently, you guided him to the bed and sat beside him. Both of you needed a moment. It was all too much to process.
You turned to him, your hand reaching up to caress his face, and he instinctively leaned into your touch.
"Habib..." you began softly, but before you could finish, his eyes snapped open, wide with fear.
"Golrez."
Your heart tightened at the name. A frown tugged at your forehead in confusion. "You call me Golrez, (Y/N)... why aren’t you calling me that anymore?" His voice was frantic, desperate, as his eyes searched yours for something—anything—to anchor him.
His breathing quickened, and a look of horror spread across his face. "They-they cursed you! TH-EY CURSED YOU LIKE THEY WERE DOING TO ME! You’ve changed! You’ve changed, (Y/N)! You don’t look at me the same anymore!"
The words pierced through you like a knife. His screams of agony seemed to shake the room, his voice cracking under the pressure of his own torment. You reached out instinctively to console him, but before you could touch him, he grabbed your arms, his grip tight and shaking.
"THEY... they would kill me, (Y/N)! And then you... you would find someone else, right? Right?" His voice was pleading now, his eyes wild with fear.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but his anguish was so raw, so consuming. "Habib," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "Stop. No one is going to kill you. No one is going to take you from me. Not them. Not anyone."
His frantic eyes searched yours, looking for some kind of reassurance, some kind of proof that what he feared wasn’t true. But the fear was so deep, so ingrained in him, that your words barely seemed to make a dent.
"Please," he whispered, his voice small now. " You... you’d leave me for someone else, wouldn’t you? I’m not the same anymore. You don’t love me like you did."
You shook your head, moving closer to him, your hand cupping his cheek. "No, Habib. You’re still you. I see you, the man I’ve always loved. You’re not a curse. You’re not what you think you are. You’re not a...monster. Never were."
For a moment, his eyes softened, uncertainty flickering in their depths. But he still seemed so lost, so afraid of losing you. You pulled him into your arms, holding him close, your fingers threading through his hair, as you whispered over and over that you weren’t going anywhere.
"Golrez," he murmured again, his voice barely a whisper, as though speaking the name was the only thing that could keep him tethered to reality.
You held him tighter, knowing that for now, your words were the only thing you could offer him. You couldn’t fix this, not yet, but you could be there for him.
"C'mon, get up we have to go somewhere."
"W-where?"
"Um..to the market. Let's get your wedding attire."
"NO! NO! I am not leaving this room! THEY ARE STILL OUT THERE! THAT- HE- that djinn! That djinn will possess me (Y/N)! I am not--I AM NOT LEAVING!"
"NOBODY IS DOING ANYTHING BECAUSE THEY'RE DEAD, HABIB!" Your voice thundered through the room, and the force of it, your frame standing tall before him, made him cower against the bedframe.
"They’re dead... Habib... you... killed them."
His wide eyes filled with disbelief, and he shook his head violently.
"I didn’t! It wasn’t me-" His voice cracked, desperate. "It was Habib! (Y/N)... it was Habib! Yo-ur Golrez wouldn't do this!."
He slid to his knees, hands trembling as he grabbed your legs, looking up at you with those beautiful, broken, haunting eyes.
"I-... your Golrez won’t do that. But Habib will, THIS IS WHY I HATE HIM!... And (Y/N), they were bad... they were so bad to me... I couldn’t take it..." His words barely made sense, a mix of anguish and confusion that tore at your heart.
You reached down, your hand caressing his hair, trying to soothe him as he sobbed into your waist. You couldn’t help but join him in silence, your hands gripping his shoulders to ground both of you.
"You... you won’t leave me, right!? NO! NO! Please! Don’t let them take me away, (Y/N)! I--look! We’re getting married, right!? Please-"
You gently cupped his face in your hands, your gaze soft but firm. "Habib, it will be over. I promise."
But your calm words and touch did nothing to ease his spiraling panic.
"No... what--(Y/N)... I--I love you. I love you so much."
Your throat tightened. "I love you too, more than you can imagine. But... procedures... have to be followed. I am sorry..."
His eyes welled with tears, his face twisting in pain, but you couldn’t let yourself falter, not now.
Nothing could have prepared you for what came next. Habib was taken away by the guards, and you followed behind them in your own car, eyes never leaving the van that carried him. Each mile felt like an eternity.
"He was the eldest son of Kadir Jafari and Dana Jafari..."
Kadir Jafari.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," you spat, your voice rising with each word. "If only, instead of getting tangled in the web of superstitions, and hiding like a coward because of your own son, you'd have faced the truth... it wouldn’t have cost you everything. Your entire family, and your fucking reputation!"
Dana clutched her husband's side in fear, both of them bowing their heads in shame. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air.
"We--we swear we didn’t know... My judgment... got clouded by my own... fears, my belief in Basim's words, and I was too... busy with my own responsibilities at the time. I didn’t... pay attention to this."
"If you had," you interrupted sharply, your voice growing colder, "Habib wouldn’t be in this condition. Basim would still be alive--though, as much as I’d like to say he had it coming... God punishes for sins like this, both in this world and the hereafter, and both of them... got what they deserved." You took a deep breath, calming yourself just slightly before continuing.
"Then comes Rahim..." You stood, your boots clicking against the floor as you walked toward the elderly couple, your steps filled with purpose.
"You have no fucking idea how my heart clenches every time I look at that kid." The words tasted bitter as you spoke, your jaw clenched so hard you thought it might break. But you kept your voice steady, forcing yourself to remain in control.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips, followed by a dry, humorless chuckle. You walked toward the window, staring out at the gardener trimming the bushes below. "What's the point of blaming you two anyway?" You muttered, almost to yourself.
"Please! Just... please save Habib!" Dana cried, her voice breaking.
"Maha, escort them out," you ordered coldly, cutting her off before she could say more.
"No! Ma’am! Ma’am-"
"See you in court." Your words were final, and their desperate pleas faded as they were escorted out.
Your gaze lingered on the gardener for a moment longer, his movements calm, indifferent to the storm inside the room. The stillness outside felt like a stark contrast to the chaos you felt within.
After reviewing everything, and listening to the testimonies, including those of Samir and his wife, who claimed they fled out of fear of Habib...
You couldn’t help but wonder: was it the same fear Habib had lived with every single day, from the time he was a child? Fear that he couldn’t escape, no matter how hard he tried?
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. The weight of the decision pressed down on your shoulders, but there was no turning back now.
"Based on the facts and medical records, it is clear that Habib Jafari suffers from Paranoid Schizophrenia. He had not been properly treated, which worsened his condition. His brother’s abuse also played a significant role in exacerbating it. Therefore, I declare..."
You paused, letting the words hang in the air, before continuing.
"Habib Jafari is innocent of the murders. He was not in his right mind. He will be treated and confined to a mental facility." Where, by God’s will, he will heal. "Rahim Jafari will also be offered intensive care and therapy. Kadir Jafari is sentenced to six months for his neglect. Samir Jafari and his wife Laila are sentenced to one year without bail for concealing the abuse in their home. Silence in the face of such horrors is as much a crime as committing the act itself, especially when it involves children."
You felt a cold sense of finality as you spoke the words, but you weren’t done.
"I am also issuing an order for an awareness program to be carried out across the village regarding mental health and disorders. I assign this responsibility to Dr. Fahim and Dr. Aisha." Both professionals nodded in acknowledgment.
"And it must be done effectively." You looked at them both sharply.
"Also, as much as speaking ill of the dead is wrong it is important that we still discuss this topic. And I am now speaking not as a judge of this case but...as your Deputy Commissioner so get this inside your head people.
Your eyes scanned the courtroom as silence fell over the room.
"Black magic," you began, your voice calm but firm, "is not a mere superstition. It is a dangerous force that preys on the vulnerable, twists their minds, and destroys families. Those who seek to wield such power, believing they can manipulate the very essence of life itself, do so at their own peril."
You paused, letting the words settle, then continued, your gaze locking with the accused.
"It is a sin, a heinous one. The use of black magic, whether for personal gain or to harm others, is a violation of the natural order and of God’s will. Those who resort to such dark arts must face the consequences of their actions. And if they cause harm, whether to a single life or to an entire community, they will not go unpunished. It is not just the physical damage it causes, but the spiritual degradation that comes with it. And those who use it to destroy others or bend them to their will… will be held accountable. No punishment is acceptable for it except death sentence."
You took in a breath and signed the stamped the paper handing it to the assistant at the side.
"Case closed."
Bang!
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"Ready, kiddo?" Rahim rushed to you with a giddy smile, his eyes shining excitedly as he clutched the basket full of trinkets--snacks, small tokens, and books. You couldn’t help but smile at his youthful enthusiasm, even amid everything they had been through.
You both settled into the car, the engine humming softly as you pulled out of the driveway of the bungalow. Rahim's gaze drifted between the basket in his lap and the window, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the photos inside the basket.
"Ma'a-"
"Aunty (Y/N), I told you to call me that. Don't be shy." Rahim chuckled softly, leaning back into the seat, his eyes finding yours. Despite being in your custody, he still acted shy. You wanted this intelligent and kind boy to have a good life and you will definitely give him that.
He looked at you, his voice quieter now, the lightheartedness shifting as something darker passed over his features. "Aunty...I--I remember being so afraid...of uncle, y'know...that night."
You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat as the memories of that terrible night rushed back. You didn’t want him to relive the worst moments, but you understood that he needed to speak. You exhaled slowly, choosing to listen, to give him the space he needed to heal.
"But...you never...showed any fear. How?" Rahim's voice was fragile, a stark contrast to the bravery he always tried to show.
"Well, the cheesy cliche answer is going to be that... love makes you stronger?" You let out a dry laugh, trying to ease the tension. "Pft. That's what people say, right?" You took a smooth turn, glancing at Rahim for a moment before continuing. "The logical one would be... that I’ve been trained all my life to deal with... every type of person, every calamity. I’ve always been like this. My dad raised me to be like a rock."
You kept your tone steady, though your heart was tight with the memories of how much you’d had to endure. "And Habib...he didn't do it consciously. It has been proven... there’s no way he would ever hurt me--or even you. And deep down, I know that. I can see that you know that, too, right? That’s why... you still defended him."
Rahim’s expression softened, and a quiet understanding passed between you. His eyes dropped to the basket in his lap, his fingers nervously tugging at the edge of the cloth.
"Because I love him too," he whispered, his voice full of the weight of his emotions. "I always have. He... didn’t deserve any of that... not an ounce." A tear slipped down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away, his lips pressing into a rueful smile as he shook his head. "It’s over now, right? We’re all going to be okay?"
You nodded softly, your heart aching for the things Rahim had witnessed, for the boy who had lost so much, yet still loved with all his heart.
"I know I may sound harsh but since the wound has reopened I must tell you that even if your parents were alive right now...and they got caught doing that, they would still face death." Rahim barely glanced at you and nodded.
"I know...they...literally dug their own graves." Then followed a peaceful yet eerie silence. The hum of the engine pulls you both into a relaxed state.
"You are my ideal, y’know," Rahim continued, a soft sincerity in his voice. "I wanna be like you. And even raise my kids to be like you."
You chuckled, the sound light and warm. "You little brat, already thinking of marriage, huh? Focus on your studies, mister." You ruffled his hair playfully, earning a whiny protest from him.
"I will, I will. But... it’s just that... you’re so strong, Aunty," Rahim mumbled, his head leaning against the window, his gaze distant for a moment. "I want to be that strong too."
"You are already stronger than me Rahim, you are."
The car ride fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the conversation settling between the two of you. You arrived at the facility not long after, and you both got out of the car, walking toward the entrance with a quiet determination.
The nurse greeted you as you walked in, and Habib’s face lit up the moment he saw you both. He stood up from his chair, his movements still a little slow, but his smile was genuine, warm, as if seeing you brought him a kind of peace he hadn’t known in a long time.
He didn't remember much things but he always remembered you both....
The two people who showed him real love...
He also remembered bits of that night. The blood the screams...the satisfaction and surprisingly...he didn't feel any guilt. He tried to...but couldn't. It was as if the kindness that shrouded his heart seemed to evaporate when it came to those who wronged him...who tried to take away his happiness. Keep him away from you. He won a battle in his mind that he won't ever sing the praise of in front of anyone and that is...he didn't regret what he did and for you, he could go through that night a thousand times over.
“(Y/N), Rahim..." His voice was soft, but it held a deep affection, a recognition that made your heart race.
"Hi, Habib," you greeted him with a smile, stepping closer as Rahim gently placed the basket of gifts on the table.
"Look what we brought for you!" Rahim’s voice was full of enthusiasm as he pointed to the items in the basket. "Snacks and lots of them!." He added with a wink, his eyes still a little damp from earlier.
Habib hugged both of you, his hand never leaving yours. After Rahim shared every story from his school, the room fell into a quiet silence, broken only by Habib’s meek voice.
"(Y/N)... please, take me with you today. I am doing better now." Habib's voice was soft, yet full of longing, his eyes bright with a flicker of hope. He looked at you earnestly, as if each word he spoke was a plea, a wish for something more, something he was desperate to reach for.
Rahim, too, glanced over at you with an expectant expression. His eyes mirrored the same yearning, the same desire to see Habib back to the life they had known before everything fell apart.
You felt your heart ache at the sight of both of them, at the way Habib looked at you like a child longing for reassurance. You knew he was healing, but the road had been long, and two days still felt like an eternity for him.
"Habib, just a few more days," you said softly, your voice steady but gentle. "Then it’s over. I promise."
"Promise?" The word left his lips in a breathless whisper, as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His eyes were searching yours, wide and vulnerable, desperate for the assurance that you would keep your word.
And before you could say anything more, Habib leaped into your arms, holding you tightly as though afraid you might disappear if he let go. The force of his embrace took you by surprise, but you wrapped your arms around him just as quickly, grounding him in the way you always had.
“I promise, Habib,” you whispered, your voice low and soothing. “Just a little longer, okay? You’ve come so far. We’re so close. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”
You could feel the tension leave his body as he buried his face in your shoulder, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Thank you… (Y/N)... I feel like I’ve waited so long...”
You kissed the top of his head, holding him as tightly as he held you, your heart beating in sync with his. You knew this moment wasn’t just about the days left, it was about everything you had fought for, everything you had been through together. The future was waiting, and though it would still take time, you knew it would be worth it.
Rahim watched the two of you, his own heart full. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched Habib, so fragile yet so strong in your arms. The healing had already begun, not just in Habib but in all of you, and this was just the beginning.
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Then one day, you both decided that the time had come. Habib was healing, his heart and mind slowly piecing themselves back together. You didn’t need a grand ceremony. You didn’t need anyone else but each other.
And so, in the quiet of your bungalow, with the soft light of the setting sun streaming through the windows, you both exchanged your vows in a simple ceremony. Rahim stood by your side along with your parents, the only witnesses to the sacred bond you shared.
Habib, still finding his way back to himself, took your hand with trembling fingers, his voice steady but full of emotion as he said the words you had longed to hear.
“I will love you, (Y/N), for as long as I breathe. Forever."
With that, you both were joined in marriage, and in that moment, the future was wide open, full of promise and hope.
"I love you, too," you said, your heart full of everything you had longed to say.
As the ceremony ended, you both stood together, hands intertwined. You stepped out into the garden, where fairy lights twinkled in the trees, the same lights that had decorated the bungalow weeks ago. The air was still and quiet, save for the soft hum of the night, as you walked hand-in-hand with the man who had once been lost, and now was home.
You watched him leaning against the veranda's doorway as he giggled like a child taking in the decorations and the fresh air, the calm quietness and relishing now being bonded with you.
"Kay now, Habib, come we need to rest." He ran over and held your hand as you guided him to your--now his too--room, where he once again became giddy seeing the decorations. It was as if he...he was born again.
"I love this so much (Y/N), and I love you more." You stalked to him and kissed his forehead and then lips, the kiss being gentle and reverent.
"Now...you are finally home."
Indeed he is. Your Golrez is home.
The End.
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(AN: Lemme know ur thoughts >.< and those who followed the story from the start, much love to u guys, and tysm for the support, Peace <3)
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fearofahumanplanet · 1 year ago
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Karma Killer - Out This Halloween!
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Pre-order eBook now on Amazon & other digital stores!
eBook and Paperback available this Halloween, October 31st!
First three chapters (56 pages) FREE TO READ on my website!
Happy Friday the 13th! Blurb below...
In the troubled mountain town of Lake Leer, Colorado, a bullied high schooler by the name of Kora Lynch becomes the latest in a long line of local killers when she ends up drowning herself to escape her persecution. Rescued from herself by a goddess of mysterious whims known only as Ira, Kora is offered a choice - to die alone and wither away forever, or to become a "Vision of Vengeance" and do away with all who bring harm.
Choosing to become Ira's latest slasher, Kora is given a weathered kabuki mask and the gift to see anyone's every sin with a glance. Eager to seek revenge on those who drove her to die in the first place, Kora takes the name of "Karma" and begins slaughtering her classmates in a misguided attempt at justice, disguising her descent in a gruesome homage to her favorite slasher movies. As she further disconnects from the real world and loses grip of her moral compass, the woman that broke her rallies the town into defiance, and the ensuing conflict tugs all of Lake Leer into irreversible carnage.
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stroopwaifey · 4 days ago
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📜 🎭The Masked Daughters🎭📜
My debut novel I am writing!
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Four women stand at the edge of revolution, their lives tangled in a web of power, vengeance, and forbidden desires.
💔 Giulia – The courtesan who has spent her life wrapped in silk and sin, but now seeks absolution behind convent walls. Yet redemption has a price, and the ghosts of her past refuse to stay buried.
🗡 Catalina – The maid turned assassin, who once loved the Doge and now seeks his destruction. When she hesitates on her latest kill, she finds herself questioning the revolution she has sworn her life to.
👑 Isabelle – The Doge’s wife, a gilded prisoner in a palace of lies. She knows her husband is unfaithful, but when her sister whispers of poison and shadows, she must ask herself—how much does she truly know?
🕊 Polissena – The madwoman no one listens to. She has seen the plot, heard the whispers, felt the noose tightening around her sister’s throat. But no one believes a mind fractured by voices… even when those voices speak the truth.
The revolution is coming. The city will burn. And these women must decide—who will they become when the masks fall?
🏹 For fans of:
• Court intrigue & political betrayal
• Revolution & rebellion
• Psychological tension & unreliable narrators
• Forbidden romance & dangerous alliances
• Women fighting for power in a world that denies them
(Please ask me questions! I love talking about my own character)
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obamasleftkidney · 7 months ago
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CLUE #3
Our detective, if anything, feels so. The doctor, the detective, and the lawyer, scramble for any shards of hope. The lawyer barters with lexicon. For my conscience, trade me gold. The doctor barters with every vein. For my sanity, trade me a soul. The detective barters with the killer. For my sight, trade me a knife. Anything.
If this is your first time seeing my post; I'm writing a novel which will be released soon. I refuse to tell you the plot, the characters, the tropes, nor the premise. I only ask for your follow + I write my followers names down in a little pretty notebook. I will drop little clues and quotes and paragraphs. Ominous little hints. And the first follower to guess the plot receives a free signed copy of the novel once it's published. (Merch included according to the guessed plot's accuracy)
Do follow me and find out, for if this ended up on your page, this novel has everything you like. I might disappoint, but how do you know for sure I will?
If you're interested, follow me, and go read my posts. Clues have already been dropped.
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vollcorte · 6 months ago
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hello, I have published a short story. If you are interested in reading, you can get it for free on my Ko-fi, it's only 14 pages.
tittle: "Re:fly"
synopsis: a fly killed and turned into a man...
thank you.
https://ko-fi.com/s/7a9c035e40
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