❝ ☠ — LADY OF SALEM

❝ ooc ☠

i was debating on answering this for the simple fact that you approached me anonymously, but because this isn’t the first message i’ve received on my self paragraph i’ll humor you for plenty of reasons which i am to list below. hope you read it well!

both my blog and muse are flagged NSFW for triggering reasons and truthfully i’m surprised you’re shocked by what? something that was tagged and labeled accordingly for a (dear gosh i keep forgetting) for a NSFW reason.

i do not limit my muse nor her development (never have with any muses) and whatever comes to my muse that is necessary for development so i can continue to expand on her personality, the complexity of her character, background and life as a writer i will do so.

i see plenty of male muses that do as they please on krp and rp in general without getting backlash but why must when a female muse is involved my inbox gets full of hate for something that wasn’t senseless, added to akira’s story and gave me further muse to continue writing a muse that i’ve had for quite some time now?

tw: r*pe implication & child abuse !!!!

❝ ☠ To change anything Vanessa learns that the Fates, the very beings in charge of all of eternity, do so with just a small price to pay. The way it is explained to her is a harsh reality of searing hot fingers gripping her skin at night. Screams of agony and sin burn their scriptures against her flesh as forgotten souls yank her into the existence of her betrothed. 

Akira is afraid.

Fear takes control of her entire soul, as centuries of pain pour into every fibre of her being as she drifts into darkness; floating through time and space as she hurdles into a different reality, though she is unable to live it - being a mere bystander as she watches a younger version of herself emerge from the closet in tears. Her brother stands before her, his face so haughty and proud at the unadulterated damage he’s done to his sister and for a split second Vanessa watches in awe, in complete shock as she realizes that the God she worships in Sunday school would ever allow such an atrocity to be bestowed upon her. The ghostly version of Vanessa cries out, feeling the younger version of hers pain drench over her like a vicious wave crashing against the shore as her brother unbuckles his pants. It’s complete submission that he wants from his baby sister and though he has gotten it already, he wants to make sure.

She doesn’t say anything.

Vanessa violently sobs to the ghostly spirit bestowing this vision on her; cries out for the future that would have been as she watches her dearest brother violate such an innocent part of her. She feels the anger boil inside of her, feels the venom running through her veins with a ferocity that even the Devil himself hadn’t quite touched yet. “Enough.” she screams, and she screams it over and over again.

This is her punishment for misbehaving.

Lucifer forces Vanessa to relieve this moment for what she feels like is an eternity, committing her to the sin of her own selfishness. She is privileged he wants her to realize this. For when does the king of the underworld himself ever take a liking to such a simple girl as she? He hasn’t been this way since Cleopatra’s bare feet walked along this earth and he plans on proving it by breaking her spirit before rebuilding it.

The Hermit

it’s a skill, to look inside yourself, one you have mastered. The endless corridors and shifting thoughts are mapped to very carefully. This all takes time, of course. And those twisting hallways are so very difficult to map. It would be so easy to get lost. You know this space so well. Wouldn’t it be a lovely place to stay? So well-known and comforting. Why go back? How nice, how easy, to dissolve, to hide from the rest of the world and all the people in it. Why bother, when you are so good at looking inside yourself. Like enlightenment, the self. Retreating this far inwards is like retreating just as far out, into the vast ether. So comforting. The thing that was you looks at the thing that was the old woman. There is no you anymore. Goodbye.

i’ve finally graduated which means i have a lot more free time, which also means i’ll be getting to replies that have been waiting and am totally up for plotting. if you’d like to drop our thread please let me know! i’m just so excited to write my spooky lil baby again!

If his Watcher would still be here and not enjoying his pension in the UK, he would have smacked Minho’s head now. He has always said that his job was not something he could choose to do, but it was his obligation. Shit kind of obligation that makes you hold back from living a normal life. With both hands, Minho ran through his hair before he sighed and sat up straighter again. He knew that he was not going to get out of this and if this woman would get hurt later on because Minho didn’t help, he wouldn’t forgive himself. No matter how cold he acted all the time, his weak heart would still make him do things his brain didn’t want to do. One of his hands gestured to the free seat next to him. ❝ I have no price. It’s my job after all, a job I don’t get paid, that is against the…well rules if you want to say it like that. ❞ A lopsided smirk appeared on his lips. ❝ Do you want something to drink? You look a little…well…to put it nicely, you look stressed. So I assume it’s serious. What is it? With what can I help? ❞ You can’t run away from your fate, right?

NAME:  Akira Miyazaki ALIAS:  Vanessa AGE:  25 FAMILY:  Mother, Father and Older Brother SIGNIFICANT OTHER:  Nonexistent offline: Lucy

𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻.

RELIGIOUS BELIEF:  Catholic SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  / lust  /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility /  kindness /  patience /  justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: She wants to expand her platform to give a voice to the people that are often shunned because they don’t fit into traditional hobbies, and interests. Her main goal is to get the general public to accept those into gothic styles, supernatural enthusiasts and people that stray more towards the dark side without causing anyone any harm. Another goal that she has is to repair her relationship with her brother.  KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Japanese, Korean, High School Spanish, and Ancient Latin SECRETS: She’s able to summon and control demons at her leisure due to her promising her hand in marriage to the King of The Underworld when she was 12 years old, and often whenever Vanessa goes through high stress inducing situations those demons often get rid of her stressors curiosity of Lucifer. Due to that she has unknowingly been responsible for the death of a few people. SAVVIES: Shamanism, baking, 

𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻.

BUILD:   scrawny  / bony  /  slender /  fit  /  athletic  /  curvy  /  herculean  /  pudgy  /  average HEIGHT:   168 cm SCARS / MARKS: She has a jagged scar right above her right eye ABILITIES / POWERS: She can talk, see, feel ghosts and summon demons and Lucifer whenever she wants. RESTRICTIONS:  When she’s having an emotional break down, demons come in and out of the mortal realm whenever they please.

𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚂.

FOOD:  sukiyaki, kare raisu, spicy tteokbokki, fried chicken, and ramen DRINK: Thai Tea, Green tea, Melon milk PIZZA TOPPING:  Peppers COLOUR:  Purple MUSIC GENRE:  Pop, soft indie, alternative indie but listens to mainstream music BOOK GENRE:  Thrillers MOVIE GENRE:  Horror SEASON:  Winter CURSE WORD:  Shit SCENT(S):   an ambery, musky composition consisting of oriental spices, exotic florals, and mrryh

𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙼.

BOTTOM OR TOP:  i wanna say she’s a closeted top  SINGS IN THE SHOWER:  sometimes LIKES BAD PUNS:  she’ll just blink at you honestly

@lavtiena​ cont from here x

     Dorian makes his way down the stairs trying to figure out where the noise is coming from, it sounds like faint scratching, like there’s mice in the walls as he shines his flashlight toward the window and then down the hall. It moves with his light, moves as if it’s leading him somewhere else and he glances toward Vanessa, not wanting to wake her, it’d been hard enough to make her feel comfortable enough to sleep here. He can’t blame her though, even Charlie had warned him that it wasn’t a good idea to take her to the crime scene, a visit was one thing but to spend the night? It left her vulnerable to attacks, left her open to whatever still lingered there but Dorian had merely shook his head. He’d promised to protect her, swore he would as he walks down the stairs, glancing back toward the room once more. Whoever this killer was, they had to be found, had to be stopped before they murdered someone else as he glances around, flipping the switch on but the lights don’t respond. He can feel it, the chill in the air as he tries the switch again only for it to do nothing, no lights, no sounds, no electrical hum as he takes a step back up the stairs. This isn’t right, his light flashes around the room but the scratching he once heard is now distant, coming from above him, Vanessa. Dorian swears under his breath as he hurries back up the steps, his stomach churns as the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand on end.

     There is no running from this, whatever t h i s is. He knows he can’t run no matter how badly he feels like he’s been placed in some twisted horror movie. Ghosts were not something to play around with, Charlie had made that much clear throughout his years of living with them, but now as he’s confronted with using them to solve a case; he almost wishes he’d never learned they were real. He moves into the room just in time to hear her scream and he snarls loudly as he uses the moonlight to find her form, wrapping her in his arms, takes the punches to his shoulder in stride before he’s chuckling. Adrenaline races through him and he flips the flashlight around, ready to use it as a weapon… against what though? He can’t see them, can’t feel them like Charlie and Vanessa can and it makes him feel useless as he watches the lights flick on, “oh now you turn on,” he mutters under his breath as he glowers around the room.  Her voice echoes off the walls and he gives her an apologetic look as he nods his head, shrugging out of his jacket as he slips it over her slender frame. “I know I know I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put you in this position in the first place I just… I wasn’t thinking.” Dorian admits as he gently brushes her hair back from her features. He deserves it, deserves to be yelled at and hit as his frown deepens at the sound. He can’t see whatever it is but he can sure as hell rule out what it’s not.

     He’s about to open the doors when the floorboards creek and he’s quick to reach out, pulling Vanessa against him as she clambers toward him, his gaze immediately darting around the room for the threat she so clearly sees. He hides his unease as he tightens his grip around her, pulling her more beside himself rather than keeping her in front of him. “What do you mean, terrifying?” He chuckles sheepishly, this isn’t the movies, something isn’t going to be crawling on the ceiling r i g h t? Grey hues chance a glance just to be sure as he stares at what he thinks is just a trick of the light, a hand raising, his finger pointing toward the corner. “Tell me something isn’t there. That I’m just… seeing things.” Dorian murmurs, his gaze finally leaving the corner of the room to look down upon the woman beside him, “if we both get out of here we’re b o t h getting extra pay, I don’t care what anyone says. Fuck it, I’ll buy you dinner for a month.” Humor is what he goes to in tense situations, if he can’t laugh in the face of death well, it’s better than the alternative which is curling up and giving it the satisfaction of his fear. “But you said the victims want to help? How are they going to help? Can they tell us who killed them? Or maybe where they’re going to strike next? Something to help put that m o n s t e r behind bars where he can never hurt anyone else again.”

❝ ☠  There were things about the medium that like precious treasures she kept hidden, secrets that made people afraid of her and Vanessa is no stranger to being abandoned when secrets are revealed. So she chooses to hold them close. Being in the space didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would, after all the demons that plague her often protect the person that is to rule over them. Entities wouldn’t dare attempt to step on the toes of those directly born from evil. Truthfully she wanted to make sure Dorian was safe. A man that made her cheeks flush and little flutters in her chest whenever he would look at her a certain way. When he is back in view, relief envelopes her entire being and she does nothing but remain by his side, happily pulling his jacket closed over her shoulders. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I just didn’t see you and got scared.” She admits, ignoring how his touch makes her cheeks burn and internally she groans at just how his simple touch affects her so. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Turning, she lets her head tilt as she observes the mist materializing a confused look on her expression.

Feeling his touch pulling her to safety, she relents without hesitation but keeping an eye out for the spirits that had begun their curious gathering to see what exactly the two people with beating hearts were up to. “A recent victim it seems,” she mumbles to herself as the mist that drew her attention begins to take shape. “If anything this is more terrifying to me because you can’t see. Or rather she doesn’t want you to see.” A woman’s form takes shape and Vanessa isn’t startled in the slightest when she sees the hollowed out eyes, tattered clothing and scratches to the apparition's skin - what does surprise her is the fact that the victim resembles her. “Is that a promise senpai?” cooing at him she steps from behind him, giving him a reassuring squeeze to his fingers. The woman reaches her hand out to Vanessa and she walks towards it, slowly lifting her hand herself. “I’m going to let her borrow my body so she can help. Remember the last time this happened? If you ever get too afraid, just call my name and i’ll come back. I promise.” shooting him a gentle smile over her shoulder, Vanessa allows her fingers to intertwine with the spirits and instantly is she thrown back, the wind knocked from her lungs.

( — Horror Plot Starters ♱ status: ​FOREVER ACCEPTING *) 💀 A cemetery full of dead, dry flowers as if all of the plots have been forgotten, some of the stones cracked or sinking into the dirt

❝ ☠ Believing that the weight of one’s environment is the key to how its inhabitants present themselves to the world, Vanessa walks through the haze of existence with her head held just barely above the fog - it is the weight of bearing sins that keeps her right above the surface, never transcending above it. She is a woman that sprouted black dahlias in between her rib cage, bloodied vines decorating her insides, squeezing her lungs making her choke on words in which she didn’t know was there. It is often a miracle that she can keep another soul that hasn’t been bestowed upon her against her will to form bonds that are meaningful and coated in a tender love. Her thoughts swirl in her head like a potion as she walks alongside the entity that she affectionately calls a friend. For once he is the object of desire to whomever decided to take control of the medium’s obsession, and it is this raging thirst for an unseen truth that drives her limbs to move of their own accord. She’s never alarmed in these instances, after all Lucy wouldn’t let a malicious spirit overtake his promised bride. Would he?

The dead grass gives way underneath their feet as if it were welcoming them to an unforeseen fortress that was bound to grant them some kind of sanctuary. “Just a little bit further.” she comments, feet moving through the mist with a purpose fueled by some unspoken melody - a silent pied piper that led individuals to a depth of themselves that was hidden from the rest of the seeing world. There’s a gentle, but malicious smirk on her lips as she walks about and for once Akira feels the presence of pure, unadulterated E V I L. It curls around her fingertips, spreading through her body like a sickly, sweet drug and for a moment she pauses - much to the dismay of Jaewoo, who complains shortly after.

It is in this moment does Akira fully look at him. With an affectionate gaze she studies how the glow of the moon illuminates his features, how the contours of his face wipe any doubt of his existence being anything other than ethereal. Dread pools in her stomach and she can’t help but to burn this memory of his slightly exasperated face into her memory. “Alright, alright, we’re going.” she comments as they begin to walk again, her body keeping close to his as they duck underneath branches until they come upon a small clearing and she stops in her tracks to turn her gaze to Jaewoo - who for once stares back with her confusion making his lips form a frown that takes her aback. He’s ugly when he looks at me this way. The thought is abrupt, sinister dripping from every syllable and she stops in her tracks.

the thought didn’t belong to her.

post 3 - 6 songs that remind you of your muse.

Dog Teeth // Nicole Dollanganger Sex, Money, Feelings, Die // Lykke Li Gingerbread Man // Melanie Martinez Sally’s Song // Catherine O’Hara Medication For The Melancholy // Rob Zombie Glasgow // Catfish and The Bottlemen

tagged by: @thecosmicsen​ (i’m screaming thank you so much)

bold what applies. italicize what sometimes applies. repost, don’t reblog.

i.   DRACULA.   cold to the touch. flickering candles. cold breath upon your neck. billowing white gowns. midnight strolls. pearl trimmed bands. indulging in your deepest desires. the fall from grace. the fear of outsiders. bloodstained sheets. dark imaginations. something lurking in the shadows. the urge to run away. glowing eyes in the darkness. the scent of garlic. preying on the weak. the power to both bring and take life.

ii.   THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY.   old bookshelves. kisses on the hand. devotion to the finer things in life. prizing youth and beauty above all. paying the ultimate price. the pursuit of pleasure. blood red sins painted over in white snow. a drug-induced stupor. breaking the heart of the one you love. losing what’s left of your humanity.

iii.   FRANKENSTEIN.   frantic sketches. the stench of something rotten. unorthodox beliefs. a scream from the woods. candles burning out. dangerous knowledge. contemplating existence. the crunch of leaves. the chill of winter in your bones. dark ambitions. prometheus reborn. the contrast between life and death.

iv.   THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO.   false accusations. taking justice into your own hands. divine justice. elaborate schemes. playing upon others’ weaknesses. the solitude of the ocean. an ever-changing identity. dissatisfaction in your life. an alienation from humanity. escaping from prison.

( — continuing the sacrament ♱ with @collapsecolours​ )

❝ ☠  Occupation aside, the medium had been in various contact with entities and living beings whose aura reeked of sin with no hope for redemption. She’s seen things that she can’t explain and would personally pluck from various sections of her brain if she had the option to so it ASTOUNDS her very soul that someone (or some people) have to see these things. Soft gaze, normally so gentle and reserved are captivated by a symphony of horror complete with a scene of tragedy that would make Shakespeare’s heart ravage with envy. Jaw slack, Vanessa tilts her head as her eyes flutter all around the screen taking in the entirety of violence that calms her frantic heart and she takes in a breath. As pure as her soul it is, there’s a dark side to her to which she never acknowledges.

“Ryuhei kun,” it’s something that she can empathize with - the feeling of being overwhelmed by another’s emotions as it made its’ very home inside the soul, being an all conquering force that pushed the very essence of oneself into the dark abyss. Hesitantly she reaches out her hand in comfort to him only to draw it back in an instant the moment she hears his voice. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Vanessa had never been one for intimate relationships, finding it harder to keep up the delusion that everything in her life was alright, when in fact that it wasn’t. It takes her all but three minutes to leave the room to fetch him some water (it’s what a good friend would do, right?) and she’s back this time with a gentle smile on her face with a cup of water. Instead of letting herself be held back by the fact that he might not need the warmth of another to convince him that his reality was his and his alone instead of the victims’. Leaning down she lets her palm rest on his spine, delicate fingers tracing small formless shapes against the fabric of his clothing as she offers him the water. “You’re safe with me.” she reassures him.

Granted, Vanessa was used to seeing it by this point, observing how others were so affected by the volatile nature of human selfishness was something that she found herself to be mesmerized by. She wouldn’t dare to ever voice that perverted fascination but she found herself offering her hand in these situations more than anything else. “Those memories, those feelings don’t belong to you. Hey, look at me.” With gentle fingers she lifts his chin with two of her fingers, letting her worried gaze meet his. It was the least she could do to the same man that extended more than a helping hand to bring her back to society during a desperate and terrifying time in her life - saving her from a crazed fan. “Do you want to go grab some coffee or even your favorite food?”