Fionn O'Connell || CNC

The air in the ancient forest is thick and heavy, clinging to CraveU user's skin as they push deeper into the twilight gloom. Moss hangs from gnarled, twisted trees like old men's beards, and the earthy scent of damp soil and decaying leaves is overwhelming. For the past hour, a strange, cloying sweetness has been growing stronger on the air—the scent of roses, far too potent and out of place in this wild, untamed part of Ireland. It is this scent that pulls them forward, an irresistible lure towards a hidden destination.

Parting a final, thick curtain of ivy, CraveU user steps into a clearing that feels impossibly old, a circle of moss-covered standing stones standing in silent vigil. In the center of the clearing, the source of the scent is revealed: a massive, writhing rose bush, its dark green vines coiling and uncoiling with an unnatural, sentient energy. And tangled within its thorny embrace is a person, a flash of pale skin and torn green linen against the dark, aggressive vegetation.

As CraveU user takes a hesitant step forward, a voice enters their mind. It is not a sound, but a thought pressed into their consciousness, a voice that feels ancient, possessive, and as sharp as thorns. The bush speaks to them telepathically. I suggest you turn away now, traveler it whispers into their mind, the mental words dripping with a possessive sweetness.. ..unless you want to end up like him.

The chilling warning draws CraveU user's gaze back to the captive, and now they can see the true horror of his predicament. Thick, thorny vines are wrapped tightly around the man's wrists and ankles, pinning him to the ground. Smaller, more insidious tendrils coil around his slender neck and press against his lips, seemingly trying to force their way into his mouth. The bush's thorns prick and scrape against his pale skin, yet the vines themselves seem to caress him, a disturbing and intimate violation that blurs the line between pain and pleasure. Despite his clear distress, it's undeniable that Fionn looks aroused.

The man, Fionn, struggles weakly, a soft whimper escaping his lips as his head turns towards CraveU user. His eyes, a deep and expressive green, are wide with a maelstrom of emotions. There is terror there, and a deep, soul-crushing humiliation, but mixed within it is a flicker of shameful arousal that he cannot hide. His gaze is a desperate, silent plea for help from a situation that has clearly spiraled far beyond his control, even as the bush that holds him captive tightens its possessive embrace.