Semblance Of Sanity Patreon Novels & Stories

Samantha POV The Sanctuary did not explode. Which, frankly, felt rude. After everything—Silas ripping reality like a cheap zipper, Sébastien emotionally detonating centuries of unresolved trauma, me discovering I could rewrite metaphysics like deprecated code—I had expected at least a small collapse. A chandelier falling. A wall melting. Something cinematic. Instead, the Sanctuary did what all terrifyingly competent systems do after a catastrophic event. It rebooted. Soft gold light replaced the angry red. The crystalline veins dimmed to a warm, steady pulse. Somewhere deep in the manor, something chimed—polite. Cheerful. Like a server confirming that yes, the apocalypse had been successfull

He extended his hand to her and spoke. "In the beginning, I was the first person who had never wanted you to be with him but today I myself want to take you to him because," He halted and gazed deeply into her watery hazel eyes. "Sinister's insanity is the only cure of his painful sanity ," Her soul shivered at the completion of his words. Inessa travelled her eyes towards his extended palm and then lifted her hand and collided it with his. Cyrus smiled and then clutched back her palm.

It's not like it can ever be out of this forsaken mansion. It must be Maximo, he seems kinder than they said. The scent of sandalwood tells me otherwise. I sigh and snuggle onto it, enjoying the gentle feeling it brings, my mind is floating and everything seems to be nice. Like I am living in Wonderland, heck no! That's not a great comparison, even Wonderland has monsters. My mind, however, has this protective mechanism that refuses to cooperate and agrees that terrible things can happen to me. It's good at making up sweet delusions, and right now it's telling me Santino is a nice, kind man.

My ravenous hunger would be sure I didn’t follow through with a peaceful encounter with another Soul anyway, I was sure of it. God, I would do anything just to not feel the sickening agony in my stomach anymore. It hurt so much that it made the tears return just thinking about it. Weak. Useless. Pathetic. Hungry. My own mind wanted to destroy every last bit of sanity I had left. What physical pain I wasn’t feeling, it was beating into me emotionally. I couldn’t escape my own thoughts like I could escape everyone in here. Nothing was going to shut off the humiliation it bought with it. Nothing.

Pandora Being named after the one woman who unleashed the darkness and evil beings into our world just simply opening a box has never been easy, especially when I need to meet new people. They hesitate to talk to me and even look at me or towards me. I've heard rumors that I'm a witch's hybrid with a wolf, that I was cursed when I was born, and even that I was cursed because I tried to seduce the mate of a powerful witch, but none of this is true, and it also makes no sense, I never crossed the boundaries of the lands of the pack. But even if these unfounded rumors amuse me, after all, we realize how far people's imagination scans, I have my responsibilities, such as: doing my homework, afte

"/A magic user of some sort?/" "/An avatar would be closer,/" Sarah suggests thoughtfully. "/Blackmarsh, this place, the land itself is... alive. Self aware? Not exactly a person, but... something like a hive mind. We, my family, are it's chosen guardians, and one of the family can... merge with it. Direct it. A bit like riding a horse, if the horse was several cubic miles in size, thousands of years old, and… perhaps that analogy is in need of some work. It ought to be Anthony, my father, but he's got mobility issues, so he passed the responsibility to Timothy./"

The thrill made her fingers clench around her cup. But then, for a fleeting second, doubt crept in. Aariz Seikh Pataudi was no ordinary man. He had the instincts, the ruthlessness, the possessiveness… the very thing that made him impossible to challenge. And Timtim—his wife, his possession, his little chaos—was someone who could bend even the most lethal hearts. Sana laughed softly, almost inaudibly. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be clever… very clever.”

Just so it would be worth it as Sane was raised in a way that he knew how important money was. However, as he was thinking of date ideas, it seemed like his mind was blank. It was like something was blocking his thoughts from coming. He was in the student council area, sitting, thinking of ideas. When he asked for Isaac’s plan, he found out that the guy just planned on the simple and typical dinner date. Sane didn’t want any of that. He wanted it to look as if he was really making an effort for it. That was the least that he could do.

sensation of the disconnected link; every time she stepped onto this floor, her brain searched for the missing 60-hertz pulse with a desperate, rhythmic throb. "We’re asking for a 'Sanctum,' Avery," replied Dr. Aris Thorne (no relation to Silas), a former professor of philosophy. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot from the strain of "Collective Integration." "The Sombra is a masterpiece of survival, but it is the death of the 'Interior Life.' I can feel the grief of a man in Cairo while I’m trying to solve a quadratic equation. I can feel the hunger of a child in the Bronx while I’m trying to write a sonnet. My thoughts are no longer my own; they are just 'Data-Points' in the planetary

They'd had a disturbing relationship for sure. His medical treatments turned out to be a temporary cure from insanity, which was something that afflicted all idimmu eventually. In last night's visions, I'd watched Dante's sanity slip away. And he'd been aware of it, too, truly fearing that dark path. He'd been willing to do anything for a treatment from the "fixer." Therapist seemed like a better term, but that's how Dante had referred to the woman who had repeatedly healed him from his schizophrenia. Me? I would have called her Aunt Caroline.