. VANITAS.. I Heard Enough, Thank You, I Know What Betrayal Sounds Like. [. . .]@ilfateds .

❙⠀ ⠀ 𝒊.⠀ VANITAS.⠀⠀⠀.𖥔 ݁ ˖⠀⠀“⠀⠀i heard enough, thank you, i know what betrayal sounds like.⠀⠀” ⠀⠀[⠀. . .⠀]⠀⠀@ilfateds .

huh ? the archiviste stopped plain in his tracks, head craning to face him with a look of incredulity. “ you cannot be serious. ” betrayal ? all because he had not purchased the last fruit tart ? he had known the human was hungry, playing detectives as they tried sneaking around altus, in search of ... clues ? vanitas was meant to be a doctor and though they both knew there was no shortage of curse - bearers, it was as if it'd all gone silent. he could feel charlatan still snaking around the depths of his mind, tendrils digging burrows into his brain, into his marrow, bleeding him out and taunting him with the memories of louis. it rendered his mind a rotting graveyard, of memories he'd long buried, the dead rising. they spoke of promises of reunion, but he'd long accepted that the dead remain dead, and that he was to focus on the present. wide eyes stared into striking blues, glint of electricity coursing, and then he reached out to shove him aside with little force. “ i simply did not buy it in case we had to leave. and we did ! you did not even recall there was a thing until i brought it up. there was no betrayal on my end, you absolute madman. ” before they could continue their bickering, he heard footsteps approaching, and then grabbed him like a bag of bones and lunged the two of them into an empty alleyway, into the shadows. it would not fare well for the vampires to discover fresh blood within their universe.

aesthetics for the entities, part i.   created by @sagamemes.

                         ▍ KAMO, CHŌSŌ.

[ i.  the buried. ]    weighed blankets.  drowning.  the comfort of a loved one’s weight.  soil and sand piling on top of you.  hugging so hard it hurts a little.  cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little.  dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways.  feeling like one with the earth.  a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts.  hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

[ ii.  the corruption. ]   insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community.  a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment.  breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person.  a curse passed on.  the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief.  parasites.  something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

[ iii.  the dark. ]   shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night.  the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing.  touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter.  light sensitivity.  a starless night.  time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants.  a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night.  a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable.  winter months in the north.  an empty church.

[ iv.  the desolation. ]   senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire.  heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family.  losing everything you’ve ever held dear.  so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline.  touch that scars.  coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air.  a child born in fire.  death of a loved one.  a candle without a flame.  an altar in the middle of the woods.  animals with burnt fur.  plastic explosives.  burning hot metal.  sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one.  disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair.  little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

[ v.  the flesh. ]   body horror.  factories.  a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter.  a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak.  fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone.  long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs.  the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery.  something alien inside your body.  a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism.  forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you.  cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

[ vi.  the end. ]   the last page of a book.  nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares.  a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat.  existential pain.  ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambiling with death.  as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object.  a dream where you die.  closing your eyes for the last time.  the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial.  causing your own burial.  the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

[ vii.  the eye. ]   googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments.  the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries.  eyes of different colours.  feeling of being watched.  a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t watch away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge.  truth.  analog records.  a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document.  turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves.  cataloguing systems.  voyerism.  police report you can’t put down.  reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers.  books that read you back.

tagged by. hauntfilm tagging. @ilfateds ( tetchou or seiko ), @rottedfigs ( stiles ), @ategod ( maki ), @zeitkeist ( yuuta ), @sgterso, and you !! ( i'd tag more but tumblr literally won't let me after five </3 )

divine intervention, a convincing tale if not for the newfound era in which the commonfolk believed they walked among saints, whether friend or foe. every waking moment was a scripture in the process, blotchy ink onto parchment curated to mark the movements of their false saints, in the early stages of the making of them all the same. but the dragonness found it to be nothing short fate or luck or whatever higher power existed that brought the two of them standing before one another, under the embrace of the night, shrouded by the lunar's presence. they always have fallen back into the familiar paths. she found that her muscles ached, a longing for routine disturbed for far too long in his absence. but it was withheld, some sense of control still sought to be maintained even with no living soul as their witness.

attention shifted towards the corpse, hiding her muted surprise with how the human body could perish so suddenly under autumn's breath, evidence of her skillful execution presented as a story. “ it was not my intent to take his life so quickly. but, like the others, he attacked with no intents of saving himself. ” whether it was his panic or his dedication to the craft, just as immediately as he launched his foray, as did his departure. “ they do not want us finding answers where their tongues lie. it concerns me what cause has grasped their loyalty to this extent. ” ivories bit down on mauves, slender digits adjusting the silk of her gown, tendrils shadowing her cheeks as she stole glances his way as subtly as managed. “ we think it is a new group here. blending in with the people, utilizing the transition to remain unseen and undetected. ”

there was a brief pause as she finally lifted her chin, glint in her eyes as she selfishly set upon his lips and then meeting his gaze. “ your return is early. ”

he'd heard one too many stories of heavy crowns and the heads they sat atop; now he counts them on his ringed fingers like blessings. the stars overhead were splattered across the sky akin to the blood across the moonlit grass: a strange mirroring in reverse. and that is the line where they met — tsar and general, tsaritsa and privateer, goddess and apostle. ❝   what a foolish last thought to have.   we will have to chalk this one up to divine intervention, won't we? ❞

they've been here before, only his brow creased less deeper than hers used to. it was a rather funny thought.

❝   I don't suppose you kept him alive long enough to get some answers.   ❞ nikolai turned the limp body with a gentle nudge, flipping over his tattered cloak strewn across his skin hiding the brunt of the damage dealt. the fingers had frozen into claws, the rage in them still alive in the cold autumn wind. at least it had been quick. and despite the thoughts that were quick to rush towards the puzzle that needed solving, there was one that ran a different direction. it was towards that lone streak of crimson across her cheek, darkening like night. nikolai had to use every last string of his will power to not touch it to his lips. old habits die hard indeed. ❝    which one of our many friends could it have been this time?    ❞

ELLE FANING attends the Met Gala (May 06, 2024)

he'd made peace with the fact that his name had foregone the roles he'd carry, priority given to the responsibilities of the council. he was born anew each time, made to get used to the sound of the titles growing into his identity, and there they came, stubborn and belligerent as usual. the sound of his past rolled off the tip of her tongue so easily that he would have otherwise found comfort in it, but he knew that they meant to stain it, to taunt him. it made the coil twist and twist and even now he was uncertain when he'd snap. at least for now, it seemed as if his patience would burn for longer than expected, the wax thinning but never gone. “ gave it a few centuries or so to wait on an invitation. learned my lesson there. ” monotonously delivered, as if he lacked the energy to keep up with their behavior, expression bored and deadpanned. obsidians were trained in the art of subtlety as they traveled down her appearance, lips fighting the urge to curve upwards — the attire was no different than the style they'd usually opted for, and he knew he'd be able to pick her out from a crowd easily.

deft fingers curled over the cuff of his sleeves, straightening them out as they'd been wrinkled from the earlier altercation. or rather, series of altercations just to get to this point. “ where'd you even get that picture of me, by the way ? ” brow rose as he tracked her movements, amusement laced in tone. “ did you photoshop it yourself ? how long did you have to stare at my face for that ? ” the questions were phrased in a way to rile them up, paired with the energy of what would have been a shit - eating grin placed over his features, but rather demonstrated in the glint in his eyes. he took it upon himself to walk around the office, venturing towards whichever corner appealed to him most, pretending to care about the various artwork hung, the murals, the expensive collections. “ there's been rumors of an uprising against the council. i've been tasked to look into it, would rather not take my chances. ” pad of his finger reached out to trace one of the glass displays. “ have a few stragglers in custody. need you to read them for me. ”

news travelled fast within the confines of the club, secrets passed over the bass from the lower floors, higher and higher until they reached altair's own ears, which in turn started to burn alongside their cheeks in blind irritation. the cameras served their purpose well, and though his face was grainy on the screen, she could feel the anger rolling off of his person like waves as he'd be stopped at each turning point, at least one morsel of sickly satisfaction that they found delicious enough to stave off her own wrath for a moment longer. the gratification only set to last as far as her own set of doors, the commotion beyond them all too telling. for their own good she stopped watching, tossing the tablet to the other end of the loveseat as he sauntered inside, the joke already sitting neatly on their tongue without a thought behind it.

at the sound of his voice, altair sat up from their position in lazily lounging and her head popping up from behind the loveseat, heaving a great sigh as they turned her head to him, expression that of a petulant child being denied sweets before their supper. a flick of obsidian curls over their shoulder, she pointed her scowl in his direction. “ how's that myth go again? ... ah. i'm sure you've got to be invited in, zhengyu. ” expression falling to naught, they stood, bracelets at their wrist clinking together neatly as arms folded, brow arched in its own question. “ are you stupid or just sinfully ignorant? it clearly said banned. ” stepping up from the sunken lounge, she moved swiftly past him to open the doors and peer outside, robe fanning out behind them, seeing that her lackey's were mostly unharmed they flashed a sympathetic smile their way before the doors closed again, and she rounded on him. “ so. state your business, then i can tell you where to stick it and you can fuck off. ”

it would be a lie to say that shego hadn't dreamed of the day she would be free of drakken. he was a fool more than he was anything worthy of an opponent, an employer. if not for the contract, she would have left. it was embarrassing to be associated with him in public, carrying out the crimes for petty games while the others aimed for much higher stakes. the thrill must have been wonderful, she'd decided. the debriefs from punchline were enough to make her sigh with envy. she was meant for more than childish tantrums and playing secretary to a man too coward to confront his measly demons. and though she wouldn't say it aloud, there was more to it than just the contract. he'd managed to make her feel bad for even thinking about abandoning him. like a stray dog whimpering at her corner, clinging to her every move. “ ugh, i wouldn't even know where to begin when it comes to his money. i think he keeps it under a mattress but i know it's also in a safe. ” if there was one thing to give him credit for, was the fact that he had never divulged the realities of his funds. they were more elusive to her than anything else. perhaps that was his true leverage over her, over any of his connections.

she could just barely fight back the laugh that threatened to escape from the way the masseuse's touch tensed from their conversation, even despite the reassurance from punchline that they were simply equipped with overly inactive imaginations. “ i'll dump mine if you dump yours. ” it was lighthearted, yet filled with some semblance of honesty. shego harbored no good feelings towards the joker, she wasn't sure anyone actually did, but there was a level of respect she had for him in the reputation he'd built for himself, in the fear he'd weaponized so delicately. she strived for that herself. plopping the whole cucumber in her mouth, she chewed noisily as the staff quickly placed a new one over her eye, rendering her blind yet again. “ sounds good. he'll believe it because he didn't even do research into this place, either. i'll tell him we got robbed with sooooo many sales pitches that we just couldn't say no. to be polite. ” there was a pause as both hands reached up to give the staff a thumbs - up. “ and tipping. they're so good at what they do. what's next on the list ? ”

oh she could get used to this. alexis’ typical jobs left her with scraped knees and broken bones so a spa day wasn’t something she would ever decline especially when it was on someone else’s dime. shego had led her to the spot after a long debrief of what her boss expected from them but none of that mattered anymore when her body was practically becoming one with the soft padding under her. from her left came a generic zen playlist playing from tinny speakers that threatened to lull her to sleep. she was dangerously close to taking a nap when shego’s voice cut through her serenity. alexis couldn’t exactly relate to shego’s grievances. sure, joker had moments that alexis didn’t necessarily agree with but the man was a legend in itself. regardless of what irrationally stupid thing he did next, he would still be called the clown prince of crime and that was a crown alexis desperately yearned for.

“ i mean, you could just kill him and steal all his money. ” the hands kneading her shoulders came to an abrupt stop and she could feel their fingers tremble uncertainly. she leaned her head back and, despite the cucumbers impending her vision, aimed a bright grin at the startled masseuse. “ just kidding, hot stuff. it’s just bants. ” she definitely wasn’t kidding but they still had a job to do and shego would have her head if she got them kicked out so quickly. “ but seriously ‘go, you’re too good for him. dump your boss. ” she finally peeled the slices off her eyes and put them aside to look at shego. “ we make up an elaborate story about how there’s some trippy fumes in these spa diffusers that made us lose track of time. yanno, like the whole casinos and no clocks thing. ”