hello! o/
ao3 is BecausePlot
shout at me! asks are open :D
Chapters:
1/1
Fandom:
Ordem Paranormal (Web Series)
Rating:
Explicit
Warnings:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships:
Jasper/Maria/Remi (and all of the pairs within the thruple of course)
Characters:
Jasper, Remi, Maria
This fic contains sensitive content. Please make sure you read all of the Additional Tags found under the cut. Stay safe! <3
Either way, reblogs are greatly appreciated—happy reading :D
Summary:
They’re…gentle with Jasper. They run their fingers through his hair, whisper molasses-dark sweetness in his ear, press soothing kisses over the bites they dot on his neck. He doesn’t understand why. He doesn’t understand how. He knows love hurts, both giving and receiving, and nowhere is that more true than with Remi and Maria.
Love hurts. It has to hurt. If it doesn’t hurt now, it will hurt later. It’s only a matter of time.
It’s agony—days, weeks spent bracing for the blow to finally land. Sometimes, Maria’s smile turns sharp and Jasper tenses, this is it. Other times, Remi clenches his fists and Jasper braces, this is it.
But it never is. Maria’s smile smooths out, Remi releases his fists, and Jasper is left feeling so suddenly bereft that it almost makes him nauseous.
Or, there is something wrong in Jasper’s relationship with Remi and Maria: It doesn’t hurt.
(OR, Jasper has an ingrained association between love and pain. When his partners don’t hurt him, well—he is confused, and eventually, distressed. This leads him to making some questionable choices.)
the concept of killer labyrinth appearing inexplicably inhuman to those who perceive him, much like in the case of many irl killers, he carries an unsettling and heavy feeling to him, but if you stare a little too long, your image of him begins to distort.
his limbs seem slightly too long, his smile too wide and a posture along with his height that seems to have him loom a little too far over you, and before you know it-
you're walking in circles in a labyrinth with no end in sight, your only sense being the dread of knowing that this masked entity behind you seems to be getting closer and closer - so much so you swear you can hear heavy, metallic breaths all around you, feel pale fingertips inches way from your shoulder.
yet everytime you look back, it stays the same distance away from you.
a smile in the shadows on an unnaturally tilted neck as its slender body seems to jerk and twist in a way which doesn't seem to be slowing him down, whilst his maze of scars start viscerally shifting, arranging in new forms and patterns that ripple and seem to glow as the walls around you seem to close in and everything is red and everything is RED and there's only one door left and-
the end of the labyrinth finds you.
I like to imagine this is how labirinto chooses his victims, distorting their minds and using his ritual, forcing them to walk against their will wherever he wills them until their mind and body are completely separate as their soul is trapped in his labyrinth, not knowing their physical body was dead the moment they arrived.
