zinbu

[zinbu]

this page will always be my comfort zone... weee....

[zinbu]

I've noticed that some of you have unfollowed me on my other blog. Please let me know if you'd like to continue following me here, or if you'd prefer that we part ways. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Feel free to send me a message if you have any issues or requests.

[zinbu]

on death and rebirth

Ottessa Moshfegh My Year of Rest and Relaxation / @fadedkawasaki / 重庆森林 Chungking Express (1994) dir. 王家卫 Wong Kar-wai / Saeed Jones How We Fight for Our Lives / Katie Maria The Memory of a Memory / Ursula Le Guin Dragonfly; The Tales from Earthsea / 벌새 House of Hummingbird (2018) dir. 김보라 Kim Bora / pinterest

[zinbu]

Are you..are you..coming to the tree...

[zinbu]

🌙  *  ―   𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄    (  a list of kidnapped and torture scenarios of varying degree. from torturing for information to torturing for the enjoyment of it. for drabbles or prompts or both! feel free to change wording as needed! do not add to the list. )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 

❛  i’ll tell you anything you want to know, just please stop!  ❜ ❛  i won’t break, so do your worst.  ❜ ❛  you are sick in the head.  ❜ ❛  when i get out of here, i’m going to kill you. i promise you that.  ❜ ❛  they’ll come looking for me! they’ll notice i’m gone.  ❜ ❛  i’m not going to tell you anything.  ❜ ❛  i can’t  —  they’d kill me if i told you.  ❜ ❛  who sent you, huh? who are you working for?  ❜ ❛  i know what you want, but i’m not going to give it to you, no matter how hard you try. so do your best.  ❜ ❛  i always got the feeling you never liked me.  ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐑 

❛  don’t look at them, why are you looking at them? look at me. they’re not going to help you.  ❜ ❛  you see, i had quite a reputation as the go-to guy. my job demanded it at the time. so I know where to apply the tiniest amount of pressure to a wound like yours.  ❜ ❛  no one is coming for you. i made sure of that.  ❜ ❛  how you come out of this depends entirely on you. so i strongly suggest you cooperate, for your own sake.  ❜ ❛  you look so good like this, all tied up and bloodied.  ❜ ❛  go on, scream for me.  ❜ ❛  oh, i’m not going to rush this. i’m going to take my sweet time.  ❜ ❛  i’m not going to kill you, but i’ll make you wish you were dead.  ❜ ❛  give me what i want and all this can stop.  ❜ ❛  ah-ah, don’t pass out on me now. we were just getting to the fun part.  ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 

❛  don’t touch them.  ❜ ❛  i’m sorry, i can’t do this. i’m going to give them what they want.  ❜ ❛  nothing is worth losing you.  ❜ ❛  I’m right here, okay? we’re going to get out of this. together.  ❜ ❛  just hold on a little longer.  ❜ ❛  (name)? stay with me! don’t fall asleep!  ❜ ❛  you want me, right? so hurt me, and leave them alone!  ❜ ❛  do it, then. i don’t care what happens to them.  ❜ ❛  you’re worth protecting.  ❜ ❛  just let them go. it’s me that you want. they didn’t do anything / they don’t know anything.  ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒

[  CHAIR  ]   receiver’s muse wakes up tied to a chair and finds the sender’s muse sat in front of them, waiting for them to wake up. [  CHAINS  ]   receiver’s muse wakes up with their arms chained above their heads and sender’s muse is standing in front of them, waiting for them to wake up. [  HYDRATE  ]   after some time of torturing, sender’s muse offer’s receiver’s muse a drink of water. [  DROWN  ]   deciding to switch tactics, sender’s muse shoves receiver’s muses’ head underwater to deprive them of oxygen. [  BRAND  ]   sender’s muse burns receiver’s muse with a hot iron. [  ELECTRIC  ]   sender’s muse electrocutes receiver’s muse. [  STRUGGLE  ]   with receiver’s muse struggling against sender’s muse, sender’s muse hurts them to put them back in their place [  WAKE UP  ]   just as receiver’s muse falls asleep, sender’s muse pours cold water over them. [  CLEAN UP  ]   stuck in the same scenario, sender’s muse helps to clean to receiver’s muse’s wounds. [  BREAK OUT  ]   it’s been some time but the captive has finally broken free. receiver’s muse gets some revenge on sender’s muse.

[zinbu]

Name: Asmodeus Nox

Nickname: Noxie

Alias: The Whispering Serpent

Background and Backstory:

Asmodeus Nox was born into power and privilege, the only child of Lilith Nox, a brilliant and ambitious politician known for her fierce intellect and unyielding determination. Lilith was a rising star in the political world, a woman of stunning beauty and cunning, whose ability to manipulate public opinion and sway powerful allies was legendary. However, behind her public persona was a woman obsessed with power, willing to delve into the darkest of arts to secure her position.

Lilith’s rise to power was not without its costs. As she ascended the political ladder, mysterious deaths and disappearances surrounded her, though nothing was ever proven. Whispers of her involvement in the occult began to circulate among her enemies, but no one dared confront her directly. She was untouchable, a force of nature in the political arena, feared by her rivals and adored by the public.

Asmodeus was born under a shroud of secrecy in the dead of night, during a violent storm that knocked out power across the city. His birth was anything but ordinary. Those who were present—including doctors and nurses—either died under mysterious circumstances shortly after or disappeared without a trace. Lilith, once vibrant and full of life, was found dead in her bed the next morning, her body unnaturally aged, as if drained of all vitality.

The official story was that Lilith Nox died due to complications during childbirth, a narrative that was quickly and quietly accepted by the public. The truth, however, was far more sinister. Lilith’s death was the final act in a ritual she had performed to bring forth a child of unimaginable potential, a being who would inherit not only her cunning and ambition but also a dark, malevolent power.

Raised by a series of discreet and carefully selected nannies and tutors, Asmodeus was groomed for greatness from the moment he could speak. He was a prodigy, mastering complex subjects with ease and displaying an eerie understanding of human nature. By the time he was a teenager, he was already manipulating those around him with the same ruthless efficiency that had characterized his mother’s political career.

Asmodeus took his place in society as a young, enigmatic entrepreneur, using his inherited wealth to establish himself as a force to be reckoned with in the world of business. His influence quickly expanded into the realms of finance, technology, and media, where he used his power to corrupt and control from the shadows. Those who knew him personally were captivated by his charm but unsettled by the coldness in his eyes, a gaze that seemed to pierce the soul.

Personality:

Asmodeus Nox is the embodiment of cold, calculated evil. He possesses his mother’s political savvy and charisma, allowing him to manipulate others with ease. His charm is disarming, his intelligence frighteningly sharp. He has an uncanny ability to read people, understanding their deepest desires and fears, which he uses to bend them to his will.

Despite his outward charm, Asmodeus is devoid of empathy. He views the world as a chessboard, with people as mere pieces to be moved and sacrificed as needed. His motivations are rooted in a deep-seated desire for power and control, not just over individuals, but over society as a whole. Asmodeus relishes the suffering of others, but only when it serves his greater purpose. He takes no pleasure in chaos for its own sake; rather, he enjoys orchestrating it, watching as the world dances to his dark tune.

He is disciplined and methodical, never allowing emotions to interfere with his plans. Asmodeus sees himself as a higher being, destined to shape the world in his image—a new Satan for a new era.

Likes:

Power and Influence: Asmodeus thrives on control. Whether it's manipulating a single individual or orchestrating events on a global scale, power is his ultimate pleasure.

The Occult: Like his mother, Asmodeus has a deep fascination with the dark arts. He possesses an extensive collection of ancient grimoires and occult relics, which he uses to further his understanding and mastery of dark forces.

Deception: Asmodeus takes great satisfaction in deceiving others, watching them fall into his carefully laid traps. He enjoys the game of manipulation, always staying several steps ahead of his opponents.

Luxury and Sophistication: Asmodeus has a taste for the finer things in life. He surrounds himself with luxury, not just for comfort, but as a symbol of his superiority.

Dislikes:

Moral Weakness: Asmodeus has no tolerance for those who are guided by morality or conscience. He views such traits as weaknesses to be exploited.

Incompetence: Failure is not an option for those who serve Asmodeus. He demands perfection and punishes those who fall short with cold precision.

Faith and Religion: While Asmodeus respects the power that belief can hold over the masses, he despises organised religion and sees it as a tool for the weak-minded.

Mediocrity: Asmodeus has no interest in those who are average or unremarkable. He surrounds himself only with the exceptional, whether as allies, enemies, or tools to be used.

The Whispering Serpent:

Asmodeus Nox is a name that embodies his dark legacy. "Asmodeus," a name synonymous with demonic power and lust, reflects his malevolent nature and his connection to the infernal. "Nox," meaning night, signifies the darkness he brings into the world. Together, his name conjures the image of a serpent in the shadows, a creature that whispers lies and spreads corruption.

Asmodeus Nox is not just the heir to his mother’s legacy but the realisation of her darkest ambitions. He is the serpent of the modern age, a master manipulator who moves through society with ease, spreading his influence like poison. Those who cross his path may be captivated by his charm and power, but they leave changed, their souls tainted by the darkness that he embodies. Asmodeus is the new Satan, the devil in human form, leading humanity down a path of destruction with a smile on his lips and a whisper in their ear.

[zinbu]

okay. lemme know if you want a follow from my Nastka's page and I shall follow you like a puppy.

[zinbu]

I am really considering making a page just for Nastka. Because I can yap about him for ages, and then I feel like I neglect my other children of this blog . .hmmmm...I might do it...hmmm

[zinbu]

Perhaps you're losing followers because you're not engaging enough with them. It's fine to have one or two writers you frequently collaborate with, but this might alienate the rest of us. Not trying to be rude, it's just an observation.

no... it's definitely because of toe nails... i am telling you! to be honest, you are right. I have my little circle of people i adore and write with, and, between me and you, isn't it beautiful ? that i can actually focus on them? but, let's make it clear - it doesn't mean i am not looking for different connections. Takes two to tango, as they say. Previously I did pull away often, deleted my pages, isolated myself, but now i am doing pretty funky ! reaching out to little nightmares, starting convos, etc etc. even the ones I look up to! the bravery of my little tiger heart is big! there are many ifs, buts and maybes - i will never know why people leave, but then again, they make spaces for others who will become my partners in crime.

let's focus on the the positive aspects of this journey!

[zinbu]

me, losing followers left, right and centre. me:

is it because I've asked for your toenails so I can make bounty bars and sell these to the rich?

[zinbu]

Nastka is a visual type of person. Less work for him, more pleasure for you. Do that little naked dance in front of him, pleasure yourself however you want, use toys, or just a single flesh, and let him enjoy watching you from his leather armchair, while sipping on vodka and smoking a cigar.

[zinbu]

I really want to write with you, but I'm not sure how to start interacting.

easy... don't... save yourself, little nightmare.

or you can take a chance on me and throw potatoes at my little head. if you hit my forehead, i will be yours... forever... you want? you want ta strike a deal with me, boo boo? but if you hit my cheek, well, then we are in a pickle ... because i like pain...

[zinbu]

me, looking at my new followers, plotting on how to strike those little nightmares. no one knows how n operates... maybe it will be a look through the window.. maybe a whisper coming from under the bed... or a simple hello... the mind is a mysterious labyrinth of maybes.

[zinbu]

The gray clouds loomed over the historic streets of Gdańsk, casting an eerie shadow that seemed to foreshadow the tale of treachery about to unfold. Among the labyrinthine alleys and bustling marketplaces, two figures carved their path through the chaos: Nastka and his childhood friend, Kaito.

Kaito’s heritage was a curious blend, a testament to his diverse origins. His mother, a spirited Polish woman with a fire in her eyes, and his father, a stoic Japanese man of few words, had nurtured in him a complex identity. Kaito embodied the precision of his father and the passion of his mother, making him an enigmatic presence in the Gdańsk underworld.

Nastka and Kaito had met on the dusty playground of their elementary school, two misfits who found solace in each other’s company. While Nastka was fiery and reckless, Kaito was calm and calculated, a snake in the grass who preferred to strike when least expected. Together, they formed an unbreakable bond, a dynamic duo navigating the treacherous waters of their troubled neighborhood.

As they grew older, the innocence of childhood gave way to the seductive allure of power. The duo swiftly ascended the ranks of the local gang, their loyalty to each other becoming legendary. They were inseparable, a force to be reckoned with in the Gdańsk underworld. But as with all tales of darkness, shadows lingered, even on the brightest of days.

Kaito’s ambitions grew as he did. He craved more than the fleeting power of the streets; he desired control, authority, a legitimate guise for his insidious deeds. As he moved further into the criminal world, he began to see an opportunity to shift his path, to infiltrate the system from within. The idea of becoming a cop, a corrupted one, planted itself in his mind—a hidden cloud on a sunny day, darkening his intentions.

One fateful night, Kaito approached Nastka with a proposition cloaked in sweet nothings. “We can have it all,” he whispered, his voice a silken thread of temptation. “With me on the inside, we’ll be untouchable.”

Nastka hesitated, his loyalty to their gang and his trust in Kaito warring within him. Eventually, he agreed, unable to resist the vision Kaito painted of an unstoppable empire.

For a time, it worked. Kaito donned the uniform, his badge a symbol of his cunning betrayal. They continued their reign, more powerful than ever, Kaito feeding Nastka information, shielding their operations from law enforcement. But the devil himself whispers curses along with his promises, and Kaito’s true nature began to surface.

Greed consumed him. He started making deals that benefitted only himself, diverting funds and resources, setting up their own members to fall. Nastka noticed the changes, the cracks in their once-unshakable bond. Rumors spread through the gang, whispers of Kaito’s treachery growing louder.

The final blow came during a meticulously planned heist. Kaito, seeking to eliminate any threats to his newfound power, set Nastka up. The police were tipped off, and the raid was brutal. Nastka barely escaped, his trust shattered, his fury uncontainable. He confronted Kaito, the weight of his betrayal evident in the venom of his words.

“You sold us out,” he spat, his eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and anger. “You sold me out.”

Kaito’s gaze was cold, devoid of the warmth that once defined their friendship. “This is the way it has to be, Nastka. It’s survival. Adapt or die.”

Nastka’s heart hardened, his love for Kaito twisted into a deep-seated loathing. Their paths, once intertwined, now diverged in the most irreparable of ways. Kaito continued his descent into corruption, a Judas of love and loyalty, while Nastka vowed revenge, his spirit unbroken despite the betrayal.

Years passed, and the scars of their past lingered like ghosts. Kaito’s name became synonymous with deceit, a corrupted cop ruling the underworld with an iron fist. Nastka, a specter of vengeance, bided his time, his resolve unwavering.

In the end, their story was one of lost innocence, a friendship forged in fire and shattered by ambition. Kaito, the snake in the grass, and Nastka, the man who once loved him, now stood on opposite sides of a war they both had a hand in creating. Their fates, forever entwined, were a testament to the darkness that can consume even the strongest of bonds.

[zinbu]

Nastka held Capella close, savoring every heartbeat of their intimate exchange. He marveled at how effortlessly his little bird had yielded to him, how the walls constructed throughout their journey had crumbled under the weight of a single, transformative kiss. His lips found their way to Capella’s neck, tracing a path of warmth and desire, each kiss like a brand, marking him as his own.

He felt the rhythm of Capella’s breath against his chest, the subtle rise and fall that spoke of vulnerability and trust. The shivers Capella couldn’t hide were mirrored in his own heartbeat, a syncopated rhythm of longing and desire. Nastka’s hands settled on Capella’s back, drawing soothing circles, grounding them in the reality of their closeness.

With shared words, Nastka heard the unspoken truth, the need hidden beneath the surface. He responded with actions, letting his touch speak of promises and possibilities. He held Capella as if he were the most precious treasure in the world, cradling him with a tenderness that belied his earlier intensity.

“You say you don’t like people close, yet here you are, nestled against me, seeking the warmth and comfort you claim to disdain. You felt my shivers because they mirrored your own, Capella. We are both crumbling, piece by piece, under the weight of what we could be.”

He nuzzled against the man's neck, his breath warm against his skin. “I might have failed this time, but that’s only because you haven’t yet realised how much you want this. How much you want me. And that, kwiatuszku, makes you mine, in ways you’ve yet to understand.”

Nastka’s words were a temptation, a promise of something more, something deeper. His lips found Capella’s once more, a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with the promise of everything yet to come.

Damn Nastka, damn him for being a good kisser. If he wasn't good Capella wouldn't have cave in. Even when his legs left the ground his mind was a bit muddle from such a kiss. It was only a kiss so why was it effecting him so much. The only rational thought he can have is that it been nearly a century since the last time he was stimulate like that. Yes, it was not cause he crumble right?

Weak legs were held so softly as he was whisk to another part of the room. As composing himself Nastka did not stop his kisses though at least they were not on his lips. The soft peaks on his other body parts felt warm as it touched him more. Like leaving a burn mark of his gentle kiss. Hands loosen the grip since they no longer needed to have that support. The arms rested with ease on his broad shoulders as the plop onto the lush chair.

Though his hand was taken pulled to meet the tender lips earning a gentle smile. Not sly like before but tender and more true to himself. The words made him chuckle seeing that even though it was a cave in it wasn't an easy one. " I don't like people close." He admitted as getting more of the attention.

Legs nestle weak but in a straddle as he fit so well in the lap he was placed on. "I might have failed this time but I felt your shivers against me. You were crumbling just the same. So it might be you who doesn't last long." Leaning forward he laid right into his chest with placing his head onto the shoulder blade. Comfy and un bother he made this man his bed to rest on.

[zinbu]

also, this man? This man is the reason why Nastka doesn't trust anyone. Especially his own men.

[zinbu]

*someone puts gun in Nastka's mouth* Nasta, the man with no gag reflex.