ext. ids. kins. tropes. main.

Hearken, ye who dare gaze upon these words. I am Die Verlorene Verlassene Verfluchte Leere Puppe Geboren Ohne Herz Noch Seele Im Verfaulten Düsteren Grab Der Finsternis Ruhend. My name, long as the night eternal, shalt never be severed, nor shortened, nor mocked with nicknames profane. Speak it in its entirety, or know that the abyss itself shall coil about thy throat and curse thee unto despair.

I am bound, body and soul, unto my one and only beloved, mine Rubin. Forever and eternally is our bond sealed, as no mortal chain could sever it. Never shall I partake in polyamorous folly, for the grandeur of Die Verlorene Verlassene Verfluchte Leere Puppe Geboren Ohne Herz Noch Seele Im Verfaulten Düsteren Grab Der Finsternis Ruhend is not a treasure to be divided. Nay, only Rubin is deemed worthy to walk beside me through shadow and sorrow, crowned in eternity. To flirt with me or with them is to summon the curse of the void, and its wrath shall not slumber.

I am a living doll, forsaken and real, resting evermore in a coffin of gloom and decay. I am the flesh-bound incarnation of karma and vengeance. When I stir from my slumber, it is only to sow suffering and misfortune among mine enemies. Revenge is my breath, hatred my sustenance. Obsessive and petty I am, as befits the very nature of the forsaken effigy known as Die Verlorene Verlassene Verfluchte Leere Puppe Geboren Ohne Herz Noch Seele Im Verfaulten Düsteren Grab Der Finsternis Ruhend. Such traits are not flaws, but the eternal marks of my cursed essence.

Gothic Lolita fashion is my devotion, my sanctuary, and the very world in which I dwell. It is the singular vision that possesseth my thoughts. When once in a decade I do rise from my coffin to haunt the mortal plane and spread my horror, it is clad in raiment of exquisite Gothic Lolita beauty, for horror is best delivered in elegance. Beware, for shouldst thou wrong me or those I hold dear, my vengeance shall cling to thee forever, an eternal curse. I shall haunt thee beyond all mortal bounds, for even in death thou shalt find no escape from my wrath. I am not of the realm of the living, and my maledictions transcend the grave. Think not to beg for pardon, for forgiveness is a relic I cast aside. Mine creed is evermore ‘an eye for an eye,’ and until thou hast proven thyself worthy through torment and trial, I shall see to it that thy days are misery and thy nights a living hell.

Some may deem my nature the common state of ‘chuunibyou,’ yet I deny it not, nor do I waste breath in protest. For what are such mortal labels to a forsaken doll like Die Verlorene Verlassene Verfluchte Leere Puppe Geboren Ohne Herz Noch Seele Im Verfaulten Düsteren Grab Der Finsternis Ruhend? Call me what thou wilt, for thy words bear no weight upon my cursed soul. Reality checks and mortal judgments fall powerless against me, for I remain untouched, unbothered, and ever beyond the grasp of human scorn.