#twisted romance

[vertigoartgore]

November 22, 2013 : actor Mads Mikkelsen celebrates his 48th anniversary on the set of Hannibal (with Hugh Dancy and the rest of the tv crew), during the filming of the (very) intense season 2 finale ("Mizumono", 2x13, May 23, 2014), which aired 10 years ago today.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi! I love your blog so much. Do you have any book recs for dark/twisted romantic relationships? Something like these violent delights by micah nemerever. Doesn't have to be mlm & i would honestly prefer if it had a female main character. Thank you!

This is goodreads list for 'books similar to these violent delights'

Out of them, I have read and liked/loved:

If We Were Villains by M.L Rio (m/m, dark academia!)

The Secret History (not really romance, but very good! Seminal dark academia book)

Vicious/Vengeful by V.E Schwab (again, not romance, but might help with the itch and she is one of my all time favourite authors)

I haven't read Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield, but I really want to because I recently read her short story collection Salt Slow and I am obsessed! Her writing style is gorgeous. Dark, feral, femininity. Often but not always sapphic.

My other personal recs would be:

Deathless by Catherynne M Valente (female main - more fantasy than These Violent Delights but the romance dynamic remains one of my favourite slightly twisted dynamics)

The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue by V.E Schwab (female main, fantasy, one of my favourite books, hits the twisted romance/bond vibes)

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn (lol, spoilers)

Blood Countess by Lana Popović (f/f, female main, inspired by the story of Elizabeth Bathory)

Dark Rise by C.S Pascat (m/m, but very promising first book in the trilogy)

The God Key by me! It is m/m, but one of the POVs is female and you will definitely get 'wow, this relationship is so messed up'

Anyone else feel free to chip in!

[innocentsardonicpotatoes]

Cruel Prince

[ireadyabooks]

Love Stories That Make You Feel Like: 🖤💀😱🗝️ 🌹

Don’t get it twisted, YA romance isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. These romance stories can get quite dark before you even know what’s happening. But maybe that’s exactly what you’re looking for! A romance full of brooding love interests, morally corrupt characters, and maybe even a splash of hair-raising dark academia vibes. If you’re willing to take a chance on these hauntingly seductive reads, then check out a list of some of our favorite dark and twisted YA romances below!

Your Blood, My Bones by Kelly Andrew

A seductively twisted romance about loyalty, fate, the lengths we go to hide the darkest parts of ourselves . . . and the people who love those parts most of all.

Wyatt Westlock has one plan for the farmhouse she's just inherited -- to burn it to the ground. But during her final walkthrough of her childhood home, she makes a shocking discovery in the basement -- Peter, the boy she once considered her best friend, strung up in chains and left for dead.

Unbeknownst to Wyatt, Peter has suffered hundreds of ritualistic deaths on her family's property. Semi-immortal, Peter never remains dead for long, but he can't really live, either. Not while he's bound to the farm, locked in a cycle of grisly deaths and painful rebirths. There's only one way for him to break free. He needs to end the Westlock line.

He needs to kill Wyatt.

With Wyatt's parents gone, the spells protecting the property have begun to unravel, and dark, ancient forces gather in the nearby forest. The only way for Wyatt to repair the wards is to work with Peter -- the one person who knows how to harness her volatile magic. But how can she trust a boy who's sworn an oath to destroy her? When the past turns up to haunt them in the most unexpected way, they are forced to rely on one another to survive, or else tear each other apart.

Start reading Your Blood, My Bones now!

A Darker Mischief by Derek Milman

The Honeys meets The Secret History in a work of dark academia like no other -- a boarding school thriller about a queer teen from Mississippi who finds himself swept into a world of old money, privilege, and the secret society at the heart of it all.

When Cal Ware wins a scholarship to an elite New England boarding school, he's thrilled to leave his past behind. Back home in Mississippi, he was the poor, queer kid who never fit in. But at Essex Academy, he'll be able to reinvent himself. Or so he hopes...

But at Essex, Cal's classmates only see his cheap clothes and old iPhone. They mock his accent, and can't believe he's never left the country, or heard of The Hamptons. Cal, at his breaking point, is about to give up and return to Mississippi when he learns about a secret society on campus -- the key to becoming Essex royalty.

Cal knows he's not exactly secret society material, but to his surprise, he finds an unlikely champion in the handsome, charismatic, and slightly dangerous Luke Kim. As they get swept up in the mystery and glamour of the Rush process, Cal finds himself falling in love for the first time.

But as the initiation rituals grow riskier -- and increasingly nefarious -- Cal must decide how far he's willing to go, and how much of himself he's willing to sacrifice, to save everything and everyone he cherishes most. Because nothing at Essex -- not even Cal's first love -- is quite what it seems.

Start reading A Darker Mischief now!

Sixteen Souls by Rosie Talbot

The spooky, swoony YA debut by BookTok star Rosie Talbot (@Merrowchild) -- the "TikTok Made Me Buy It" sensation dubbed Heartstopper with ghosts! Perfect for fans of V. E. Schwab and Aiden Thomas.

Sixteen-year-old Charlie Frith has problems. His crush is dating someone else, his sisters have glitter-bombed his prosthesis (again), and he's a seer-of-spirits in York, the most haunted city in England, and all his friends are ghosts.

To make matters worse, it seems that famous spirits are mysteriously vanishing from York's haunted streets and alleys. Charlie is determined to stay out of it, but Sam, the irritating new seer in town, expects him to track down who -- or what -- is responsible and uncover the dark purpose behind these disappearances.

But when one of Charlie's ghostly friends vanishes, he has no choice but to face the shadows -- and his growing feelings for Sam. The boys must be willing to risk it all to save York’s spirits, because this adversary will stop at nothing to complete their devastating plan. Afterlives are at stake, and Charlie is running out of time . . .

Start reading Sixteen Souls today!

Beastly Beauty by Jennifer Donnelly

From New York Times bestselling, award-winning author Jennifer Donnelly comes a revolutionary, gender-swapped retelling of Beauty and the Beast that will forever change how you think about beauty, power, and what it really means to follow your heart.

What makes a girl "beastly?" Is it having too much ambition? Being too proud? Taking up too much space? Or is it just wanting something, anything, too badly?

That's the problem Arabella faces when she makes her debut in society. Her parents want her to be sweet and compliant so she can marry well, but try as she might, Arabella can't extinguish the fire burning inside her -- the source of her deepest wishes, her wildest dreams.

When an attempt to suppress her emotions tragically backfires, a mysterious figure punishes Arabella with a curse, dooming her and everyone she cares about, trapping them in the castle. As the years pass, Arabella abandons hope. The curse is her fault -- after all, there's nothing more "beastly" than a girl who expresses her anger -- and the only way to break it is to find a boy who loves her for her true self: a cruel task for a girl who's been told she's impossible to love.

When a handsome thief named Beau makes his way into the castle, the captive servants are thrilled, convinced he is the one to break the curse. But Beau -- spooked by the castle's strange and forbidding ladies-in-waiting, and by the malevolent presence that stalks its corridors at night -- only wants to escape. He learned long ago that love is only an illusion. If Beau and Arabella have any hope of breaking the curse, they must learn to trust their wounded hearts, and realize that the cruelest prisons of all are the ones we build for ourselves.

Start reading Beastly Beauty now!

The Good Neighbors by Holly Black 

From the amazing imagination of bestselling author Holly Black and acclaimed illustrator Ted Naifeh, comes  an astonishing graphic trilogy set in a faerie world, full of mystery, intrigue, and romance.

Rue Silver's mother has disappeared... and her father has been arrested, suspected of killing her. But it's not as straightforward as that. Because Rue is a faerie, like her mother was. And her father didn't kill her mother -- instead, he broke a promise to Rue's faerie king grandfather, which caused Rue's mother to be flung back to the faerie world. Now Rue must go to save her -- and defeat a dark faerie that threatens our very mortal world.

Start reading The Good Neighbors now!

[the-blind-geisha]

Amnesia: A Dreamer's Requiem

Lilyodin was a mere farmer, sold to the demon ruling over the land for a high price. Upon arriving at his castle, the demon Demiurge seems understanding, charismatic and more than willing to assist her in growing to become far better than what she was born to be.

However, something feels off about how servants seem to come and go without so much as a word, and the gaps in her memory start to plague her as to what’s truly going on in the castle walls right under her nose...

The redo of the cover piece for Amnesia. I woulda have put a title lettering on it, but went against it because of space, but also, thieves. I need my watermark there more than a text title. lol

The background I actually had done forever ago, but I didn't like it ultimately in the end and never used it. But it was meant to be a reading nook in Demiurge's castle. It'll probably go up for others to use on my Patreon (whenever I have the nerve to open it lol) and or Ko-fi.

Same for a XXX piece I did of these two months back but didn't post anywhere but in a discord server I'm in.

[enchantingepics]

Story Prompt 57

A figure lurked in the dim light, its silhouette shrouded in mystery. This figure was no hero; rather, it embraced the darkness, reveling in the power it wielded over those who dared to cross its path.

One fateful evening, as the moon cast its soft glow upon the landscape, the figure found itself drawn to a reflective surface—a mirror. Peering into its depths, the figure beheld a visage so captivating, it was as if time itself had stopped to admire its beauty.

"You are magnificent," the figure murmured, tracing the contours of its reflection with delicate fingers.

The figure became enamored with its own image, spending hours lost in the depths of the mirror, entranced by the allure of its own gaze.

As days turned into weeks, the figure's obsession grew, consuming its every waking moment. It spoke to its reflection as though it were a lover, whispering sweet nothings and professing undying devotion.

"You are the embodiment of perfection," the figure declared, its voice tinged with longing.

But as the figure's love for itself blossomed, so too did a darkness within. It became possessive, unable to bear the thought of sharing its beloved reflection with anyone else.

[untilyouremember]

Nanase-san's Crazy Love Obsession

Available digitally (included in Mangamo subscription)

[aplaceformyshortstories]

Story #1

Title:Tangled Strings

Genre:Psychological Horror

TW:Abusive Relationship, mindfuck, emotional abuse, physical abuse,implied self-harm, isolation, twisted memories, toxic codependency, character death

Why is the world so dark? Why is it so cold? And why does everything hurt?

How long have I been here? Why am I chained up? What did I do wrong?

Am I alone? Have I been forgotten? Can someone please, please, HELP ME?

-

Every night, it’s the same nightmare. I’ve been locked away, chained up in some dark, dark room. I never know how long I’ve been there, or what led to my situation in the first place. All I know is what I feel. Trapped. Alone. Hurt.

It haunts me, even after I’ve woken up. My breathing is still heavy, and if I press my face into my pillow, it’s sure to be damp. I’ve been crying. Maybe I still am? I can’t tell if the wetness on my face is from tears already spilled, for if they’ve never stopped in the first place.

And then you’re here. You’ve always been here, but until this point, I’d been too busy drowning in my pain to realize it. But you’re here. My restless sleep must have woken you up.

“It’s alright,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around me and pulling me into your side, “You’re safe.”

Of course I am. It was just a nightmare, after all, and I had you now. To hold me, love me, and make me feel safe. And though, if push, I would’ve sworn I’d stay up the rest of the night, the comforting feeling of your arms around me was eventually enough to lull me back into sleep.

-

You’re here. Why are you here? DON’T TOUCH ME!

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re right. I deserve this. I don’t get to yell.

Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Please.

-

When I wake up this time, I’m alone. Bright sunlight is streaming through the window, and when I roll over, I can still feel a slight warmth on your side of the bed. I don’t have time to sulk. To process my dream.

Someone was there. That had never happened before. I’d been unable to see them, but I had felt them. Along with a new, stronger emotion. hat nightmare, beyond the fear that normally accompanied it, had an overarching feeling of guilt.

Maybe I would talk to you about it. I should talk to you about it. Holding onto these things myself would only hurt me in the long and run. And, that nightmare, and waking up with you gone, had left me feeling incredibly alone.

I didn’t like it. It hurt.

I needed to find you.

My first thought was the kitchen, obviously. Maybe you were just making breakfast. But once I’d walked downstairs from our room and to the kitchen, it had been empty. The same result had been achieved by checking in the living room, your office, and even when I went into the backyard.

When I looked out the front window, both of our cars wereI still in the driveway. That meant you had to be home somewhere. I called your name a few times, but received no answer.

Was this just another nightmare? Had my mind given up on torturing me in that cold, dark, lonely room, and had instead decided to make me believe you were gone? Could it be that I was simply still sleeping?

My mind seemed more clear than any dream I’d remembered having before. But the fear from the constant nightmares had caused me to question my situation.

Where were you?

I’m always safe, when I have you with me.

I needed you.

I don’t want to be alone.

I decided to head back up to our room. If this really was a nightmare, there seemed no clue that it would end soon. And if this was real, then maybe taking a moment to regroup might allow me to calm down. You were probably fine. I just need to calm down.

-

As I walk into the room, the floor underneath me seems to change. It’s stone-cold, and with my first step, a shock of icy fear erupts through me, and I freeze. Wasn’t our floor carpet? Even if it wasn’t, there was no way it was made of stone.

And why was it so dark in here? Hadn’t you left the curtains open? Hadn’t I woken up to sunlight pouring in?

Maybe I am really still dreaming.

I force myself to move, trying to get back out of the room. But I stumble, at least, I think I stumble. Maybe I was pushed? But no, no one else is here. Just me.

I feel myself hit the ground and-

-

You pushed me. I’m bleeding. Why do you hate me so much?

You keep telling me I deserve this. This is my fault. I make you do this.

But you don’t have to. You could let me go. You could kill me.

I don’t want to be alone, but when you’re here, everything always hurts worse.

-

“Come back to me.”

I hear the demand, feel your arms around me. When did you get here? Why are you holding me? I raised my hand to my forehead as it bloomed with unknown pain. I feel blood.

Did I fall?

“You tripped,” you say, “I found you passed out on the floor and bleeding.���

For some reason, I can’t speak, I can’t respond to you. But the fear I hear in your voice is so real. Even as I can feel the blood dripping down from my head, all I want to do is comfort you. “It was just a fall,” I want to say, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”

Your presence makes me feel safe. It is unacceptable that my pain would cause you distress. You don’t deserve this. You’re so good. You are safety, and love, and home.

I know I deserve this pain. You should know it too, then maybe you wouldn’t worry.

I deserve it.

In a second, with that thought, the world seems to shift again. I can barely keep my eyes open through the pain. But, when I manage to look up at you, I can’t see your face.

My heart begins to race as I notice I can’t feel your touch, either.

Are you even here?

Did you wake me up?

Why can’t feel you?

Come back.

Please, come back. I don’t want to be alone.

-

Alone. Alone. Alone.

It’s so dark. So cold. You’ve forgotten me again.

I know I don’t deserve you. I’ve hurt you so much. This is only fair.

How did I hurt you? I don’t remember.

It doesn’t matter. All that matters is what you’ve taught me, and the pain I feel.

You taught me that I deserve this.

-

It’s movie night. You’d picked some comedy you’d seen a million times, and I hadn’t argued, of course. We had a system, and it was your turn. Besides, I had the biggest headache, and would most likely fall asleep soon after the movie started.

The migraine had come out of nowhere. I could barely even look at the TV, the bright light making me feel like someone was driving a stake through my head.

Luckily, you didn’t take too long to return. You carried a big red bowl of popcorn, and I smiled at the knowledge that there would be M&Ms scattered throughout the movie snack. It was one of your favorites, something I’d never tried until I met you. I’d loved it, of course, and it had become a staple of our movie nights.

I cuddled up next to you and reached into the bowl to grab my own handful. Popping it into my mouth and chewing just louder than normal, trying to playfully annoy you. Sadly, you didn’t rise to the bait. Just rolled your eyes. I grinned, and ate a little more of the popcorn.

You’d cooked it just a little too long. The flavor was ever-so-slightly burned. I didn’t mind though, I was just grateful for the effort you’d put in. It wasn’t at all inedible, and I wasn’t about to complain. We only had stove top popcorn, and I’d almost burned down the house on multiple occasions. I didn’t exactly have the right to comment on your efforts.

“You weren’t going to say anything?” you asked, after having your own first bite. I looked at you, confused. Why would I have said anything? That would have been incredibly rude. And why did you sound so..angry?

It was just popcorn, after all.

“What, did you think I didn’t care enough to fix my mistakes?”

-

Am I asleep, or am I awake?

I don’t know anymore. This feels real.

These chains are real. The dried blood on my head is real.

But everything else feels real, too.

The love, the safety, the popcorn. You holding me.

When was the last time I was held?

-

“Why do you stay with me?” you ask, your head in my lap, looking up at me.

We’re outside, in the garden. For once, the weather is enjoyable enough for us to enjoy being outside. We’d had a picnic, the leftovers still scattered around us. We were too comfortable to take them back inside yet.

Ants would probably come soon, but right now, neither of us could find the energy to care. Why ruin such a good moment?

I think about your questions. There’s so many ways I could answer it, of course. And I recognize the tone in your voice. However you might try to hide the fact, after knowing you for as long as I have, I know you deeply care about how I answer it.

This is a test. I understand. You’ve been hurt by so many people. I’m supposed to be the one that was finally safe for you. I was supposed to be the one who saw all of your hurt, and stayed with you anyway. Sometimes you just needed the reminder that I really did love you. You couldn’t always believe it. I understood, and had learned to recognize those times.

“I’m broken,” you said, before I could answer, and there was that familiar self-degrading tone, “You deserve better,maybe you should just leave me. “

You did this too, a lot. I’d need both hands to count how many times you’d tried to tell me that I would be better off if we weren’t together. And then I’d convince you that wasn’t the case. How could I be better off without you? You were my person, my home. I needed you.

-

You’re taking the chains off.

This is new. What’re you going to do to me now?

What new punishment?

Yes, my hands are bleeding.Why do you care?

I deserve this, right?

I’m a monster.

You’ve done much worse than this to teach me that.

I’d think you’d be happy I was learning my lesson.

-

Why are we on the floor? Hadn’t we just been in the garden? Or..hadn’t I been in that nightmare dark?

My head was still bleeding.

“I think you have a concussion,” You say, and through blurry vision I can just barely make out your face, “You keep passing out. I need you to stay awake.”

You help pull me to my feet, and I sway, unsteady on my feet.

I need to stay awake. You need me to stay awake.

But I’m so tired. When did I get so tired? You wrap an arm around my waist to support me, and I lean into you. My head doing its best to lay on your shoulder, and my eyes keep trying to close.

I’m so tired. Everything hurts. I could just..sleep.

But then you’re shaking me. Yelling at me to stay awake. That it was too dangerous to fall asleep

I don’t think you’ve ever yelled at me before.

I want to give you what you want, I want to stay awake.

But I’m just so tired.

-

You’re shaking me. Why are you shaking me?

Everything hurts. Just leave me alone.

I can’t take any more pain.

I think-I think I’m dying.

You’re sorry? Why are you sorry?

I deserve this.

It was always going to end like this,wasn’t it?

I hurt you too much.

You had to hurt me, too.

It’s okay. I understand.

You made me understand.

But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be here.

I’m so cold.

You took the chains off, but everything still hurts so much,

Even free, I can barely move.

Maybe I was right. Maybe this is just a nightmare.

Maybe I’ll wake up, and we’ll be together.

And I won’t be a monster.

Maybe I won’t ruin it.

I won’t hurt you.

We could be safe.

We would feel loved.

We would be each other’s home.

-

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you said, with a laugh that reminded me of the sun. So warm, so lovely. It was one of my favorite things about you, that laugh. Your tone was playful, but it pulled at some string in my heart. Something about it was…wrong. But I didn’t want to say anything. We’d just started dating after all. I didn’t want to seem overly critical about something that was obviously just a joke.

You threw an arm around my shoulder, and I leaned in. You kissed the side of my head and I blushed.

“You’re adorable,” you said, “It’s too much to handle!” you were laughing again, and like it was contagious, I started laughing too. I didn’t get the joke, and I was embarrassed from having so easily been turned into a blushing mess. But if you were laughing, I couldn’t help myself. I laughed too.

It had always been like, even before we’d dated. If you were happy, I would be happy,too. When you were sad, or hurting, I would be too. That’s how we worked.

We’d already decided we were each other’s match. We were going to last, no matter what anyone else might have said.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe I would be the death of you, and you the death of me.

We’d always been so tangled together, it just made sense.

Hah.

It really was funny, wasn’t it?

[a-complex-joke]

Unraveling Secrets of Friendship and Corruption

MASTERLIST

Chapter 3

the next day she said nothing to me or the day after that or even the after that, she was the same as before, that's when you would see her most of the time she was either skipping or running around so fast you could barely tell it was her, save for the scent of mint and smoke she left.

And here I was still in disbelief over it all. What could have happened to make her so?

So…

A knock broke me from my thoughts.

I waited for someone else to open the door of my house, yet the knock continued to echo.

I stepped out of my bedroom, looking around the house was empty.

“Open the fucking door” a voice shouted across the metal plank.

“El, What are you doing here” Eleanor stood there, arms crossed, foot tapping, she had on thick sunglasses and her hair was down.

“First of all stop calling me that, only my close friends call me that and you're not even in the nearest realm to that, second we are gonna talk inside, I can’t have anyone seeing me, it was enough of a risk to even come here in the first place,” she said pushing past me.

“Umm ok… would you like something to drink?”

“No this isn’t a hang-out situation. listen as much as it sickens me to say this, I need your help.”  she sat down on the couch crossing her legs and slipping her sunglasses off.

“I've suspected that possible has been up to some shady shit even before what we saw the other day. And as much as I want to investigate this on my own, I can’t.”

“Wait are you seriously suggesting a conspiracy against the principle and asking my help? I have so many questions.

 what do you think she is up to?

Why me?

“How did you even get my address?”

I paced back and forth in the small section between the coffee table and the TV stand.

“To answer all your questions.

Embezzlement, and maybe a little identity theft.

You already saw the sketchy shit, and id rather not get my friends involved with this.

And to answer your final question, I have my resources and that's all you need to know”

“Why should I? The principal never even saw us to begin with, why don’t we just leave it alone?”

“Cause you owe it to me for ruining my life, call this my last big project before I graduate, sure that's a year away but procrastinating never gets people anywhere” She quickly stood to her feet.

Even though she was a good half-foot shorter than me she was still scary.

“R-ruined your life… ho-”

“It may have been an inconsequential event to you, but to me, it was the spark of it all. If you would have just fucking listened for once and come to the performance, I wouldn’t have been embarrassed like that, do you know how emotionally taxing it is to watch the video your family took of you. To have them zoom in on you trying so hard to not cry. I got stage fright, which made it to where I never got to or will try out for the plays with my friends.”

He glared up at me flaring her nostrils.

“Why did you even go up then you could have just stayed bad and no one would have known”

“Are you really trying to blame me, I was eight and didn’t want to get in trouble, it wasn’t even just that, I was dragged down by you and your creepy ass crush on me, I was second to most hated in that school, all because you wouldn’t chill the fuck out. You know I was the one teachers would go to, to deal with you, oh El will you watch Gabe on this field trip? will you be Gabe's partner for this?

I was so glad when you got home-schooled, but then you just had to come back a screw up my life again.”

So there it was, all out on the table of why he hated me so, all cause of some stupid schoolyard grudge

 She finally took in a breath after chewing me out.

“So maybe make yourself useful to ME at least once, here’s my contact info, but don’t get your thong in a knot it’s just the number for a burner phone” She walked out leaving me to process everything.

[justaspoonofjam]

Healing Wounds and Making Scars

Warning: brief mentions of bullets, killing oneself, and torture. If these themes make you uncomfortable please do not read the third paragraph. Remember, you were warned.

He smiled when she fell, a sick and twisted smile. He liked, no, loved the power that he had over her. A strong desire was beginning to blossom. To assert his authority over this weak, fragile, naive young girl.

All he wanted to do was control her every thought, every movement, every flaw. He wanted to make her love him, care for him, worship him. He felt the need to break her like a delicate porcelain doll and then fix her piece by piece, molding her into the perfect being for him.

She had to see him as someone she would take a bullet for, someone she would kill herself for. He would only need to command her, and she’d do it without hesitation or fear, without comments or questions.

All she needed to do was submit herself to him, then all of this could come true. If she didn’t, he would make her submit, he’d torture her until she begged him to stop. This is what his smile meant and he was determined to get what he wanted.

[crypticpawpoems]

Clutching at Embers

There was a girl who didn’t care for human life

She found humanity fickle and ignorant of the reality of the world

She felt no empathy

Even when she tried to, she fell short of the expected reaction

She could stand in the face of death and not be mortified

In fact, she enjoyed it

The graveyards brought her peace and a sense of serenity

It was the only place she felt she truly belonged

She could live in rotted history and feel her friends only six feet away

Sometimes, she pretended she was one of them, rising from the tomb

Yet, she did not wish to die

She was the only one of her kind

And she had been persecuted for it

Tortured

Chastised

Forced to hide, to play along

And renewed by its vigor time and time again

She would walk against the wind, hair whipping in the gale

And hope someone would notice the warrior in her resolve

Everyone she had let close failed her, but she kept seeking

She took comfort in Death as her companion

One night, she saw a stranger on the sidewalk

What looked like a boy stood still in the middle of the walk

Others walked around him, blind to his passive retaliation

He was staring at her, of that she was certain

Curiosity led her to trail him through a passage of alleys

He was never too far out of sight, knowing full well of her pursuit

She came to an opening of cobblestone, buildings of brick on all sides

The boy had disappeared

Her spine snapped as she swiveled around and around

Maybe I missed something?

She became downtrodden and turned to leave

A force behind grabbed at her and pushed her against the wall with menace

She felt a cold steel at her throat, yet she did not flinch

There was no fear reflected in her eyes as she looked to what the gaslight illuminated

Here were the same eyes

Here was the same urge acted out that she had suppressed for as long as she could remember

Here, in the defined jaw and glistening irises of this boy, she found a recognition

She saw herself

The boy, in the slyness that lay in the corners of the lips and the sunken eyes of this girl, found a recognition he hadn’t thought possible

He saw himself

He could have killed her, but his grip on the blade loosened

She knew he could have killed her, but she did not resent him for it

Snow alighted from the black sheep’s wool above

And they both turned their gaze upward and released an icy breath

Two corpses walked the shadows that night

One to her mausoleum above the streets

The other, to watch her from his shallow grave below

The next day, they found the sunlight burned their skin

So, the boy reached for his knife and threw it into the sun

It ripped in two and withered into nothingness

The light hours were ever cloudy from then on

He watched her in the window all morning

Followed her all afternoon

And when night fell, they went to the graveyard

She got there second and heard whisperings from underground

Entering the vault above it, she silently went down the staircase within and found her roommate lying atop a stone coffin

She was still breathing, her mouth stitched shut with fishing wire

It was all I could find

The boy showed himself from the farthest corner

I know how much you wanted her to shut the fuck up

The girl smiled in gratitude and asked for pliers

I thought we might need them

She took pleasure in yanking every nail from its divot

I always hated the tap tap tapping

Then, the knife plunged into her heart, her thigh, her shoulder, her neck

All by the girl’s hand

I’ve loved the blood the most

The sigh of relief and exhilaration changed her, freed her

She was coated in her slick mess

The voyeur admired the beauty in every drop that landed on the alabaster skin

Run away with me

Two hours later, they were on a train to Nowhere, a cabin all to themselves

The blood hadn’t fully washed away and never would

He always found a drop now and then

The rickety rackety of the steam-power appealed to their better paranoia

They held each other the entire ride, cold and stiff cheeks pressing against the other

They could taste blood on their own tongues

On each other’s tongues

Metallic communion of the worthy

The window became foggy

I can’t tell if it’s from the heat of the train or the heat of the blood

The night grew into night, and then night again

They arrived in Nowhere, the greatest town the world has never seen

He took her by the hand and led her to the dust-ridden streets, the planked homes of old

They breathed in the dry, choking air and took pleasure in knowing that this tumbleweed road was as dead as they were

He took her to see a show

Feathers and corsets and frills and powdered faces dancing

Though none were as pale and fair as the girl

Do you want to see a real show now?

At the witching hour, they crept to the upper chambers

Creaking boards see them past a pounding bedframe

Not that one

Her cries of anguish and non-consent mark her for another

Ten doors down on the right just there

The face was sleeping, still in its powder

She had had no funds that night

The boy stood on the left, the girl on the right

Almost silently, he slit the strumpet’s throat

She woke only to open her eyes wide, then die as the font continued to flow

The door closed on its own in repulsion, to protect the world from the monsters

But as the divine crimson spewed forth from the slice

The boy and girl reveled in the world they had created

There was enough in the young harlot to fill up a sow ten times over

It seemed a never-ending fountain of life

Go ahead, touch

She reached her hand into the stream and was surrounded in a veil of boiling scarlet

I wish someday to cut you like that

She flushed, a thing that did not happen to her very often

Splattered with the sweet cerise, he drew near her in the waterfall

With utter assuredness and no doubt in his mind

He undid her once pristinely white bodice

Watching the red nectar drip down his face, she felt a draw of destiny

She let him take her to the blood-drenched sheets

[majunju]

"girlfriend" (more ab rielle here)

[author-a-holmes]

"I think he could make me worse" is a fantastic theme I really want to explore in a future project

"I could fix him" "I could make him worse" I think he could make me worse. Is this anything

[anneswritingnook]

Love the Way She Smiles...

Hello hello and welcome to this week’s Microfiction Monday, inspired by the prompt: to write a piece of micro fiction (300 words or less) from the POV of the stalker. This can be read alone or as a continuation of last week’s prompt. It also could be a romance, but reading between the lines, the cracks are starting to form… I wasn’t the kind of person to believe at first sight.  Infatuation,…

[thefailurecult]

[neyafromfrance95]

the fact that in trop canon, sauron is written with bearing in mind the fact that he LOVES galadriel??????? L O V E S HER???

imagine being galadriel knowing that the evil incarnate loves you? the abyss that she gazed into with hatred for so long gazed back into her with love!!!

and she is the only thing he is capable of loving? bc there is this cosmic connection between them that is just out of this world, metaphysical, entirely unique??? that they have their very beings bound to one another? that it's something much greater and of a higher essence than anything shallow and common? that they are the light and the dark fated to never unite but being eternally connected in a way that they are unable to with anyone else?

what are we even supposed to do with this information? how are we going to collectively ever be sane again???

THE love story of TV, i'm afraid.