ARCHIVED!

catch ya boi over @ diimm

[diimm-a]

& now, a special treat...for our special guests.

[diimm-a]

WALTER.

A fate far worse. A fate far, far worse. He takes the words almost tenderly, poison manifest, a testimony of the chaos that he dances in. He runs them along the back of his hand: for a moment they’re smoke, for a moment they’re blood, and for a moment they’re real.

The burn of empires crumbling. The scream of the widows as they die, of the heroes as their heads are set up on pikes.

Crucifixion. Evisceration. Teeth and claws and horror and horror and horror.

His smile at the mirror, oozing ichor. His smile at the essence in front of him, made to look into someone else’s head. No matter. No matter, it’s a small small concern. They are, and this is the communion, they are of the same brand of darkness. So they smile at each other. So they know each other’s halves of horror.

“Worse? Worse. Don’t flatter me, come now. It might just go to my heee-ad.”

merchants were only ever good for FLATTERY —— silken compliments binding like a spider's webbing, crystalline gossamer & glass.  it spread everywhere, nowhere, a phantom tucked away in the corner of the eye, & with an instant glance?  GONE. 

for him, he stayed; no glamours, no tricks, only fangs eternal.  they were the brightest stars amidst the blackest night, the darkest ploys for darker desires.  soon, soon, so very soon, galaxies would crumble & join the song of the countless taken before them, their wails muffled only upon the closing of ancient jaws.  breaking bones, squelching flesh, pleas of nonexistent mercy —— was it so cruel to indulge the senses?

" i know it will, my friend, as i know more WRETCHED things lurk in that head of yours!! "  uproarious was his voice & celebratory was the court of azathoth, an eternal dance of storms & shadow.  " we must share them with the less...imaginative. "

[diimm-a]

[diimm-a]

@ladyoriannas

drunkards stumbled about the delicate fountains of the mandragora in some pitiful imitation of dancing, fingers far too fat from beauclair's delicacies to properly strum their lutes.  the feet of the mirror never properly rested upon the ground as he weaved between the soirée & its guests, tasting their auras like the stench of wine in the air, conjuring infinite fantasies of deceit amidst their revelry.  so much TEMPTATION churned about him, yet he did not bite!!  he would play nice —— for now.

even he, MASTER of form & nameless in his essence, donned a mask for the occassion, a simple thing fashioned of brown leather ( nothing could hide that honeyed GRIN ).  her kind was not so different, pretending that they would bleed the same as humans —— why, then, did she refuse to blend in?  arms rested upon the banister near the gracious hostess, a great enough distance left between them to secure an image of humility.  clicking his tongue & crooking his neck, he asked:  

" my lady, why do you bare such a lovely face? "

[diimm-a]

here’s a tentative STARTER CALL!!

[nazair]

Find yourself on the path with no hansa to keep you company? REBLOG this post to be added to the masterlist. Please include your character(s) name, whether you are canon or an OC and which instalment you’re from.                                                             See you on the path!

[diimm-a]

HENRY.

“ do you believe so? ” in spite of the sneering tone, there was a definite underlying layer of fear written in the lines of the doctor’s face. whatever gaunter o’dimm was, he was no average man, and jekyll was quite aware that he might have made a grave error in issuing his threat. 

a hum creeped with an ever-widening smile, ludic as the airy bounce in his boots while gaunter began to pace about the tall doctor.  " oh, yes!! "  the upper hand dangled above his ward, eager to grip the heart & squeeze horror like blood.  " how many would pay for you to die justly, MR. HYDE?  could i call myself a proper citizen if i let you go? "

[diimm-a]

MASHIACH.

SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE

Cold, cold skeletal hands cup his face, nails pressing against his his skin. Sharp talons & strange jewels sinking, sinking into his cheeks. A daughter’s adoration for her father, whispers in the deep tongue layered on top of the screams of those harvested in countless past cycles, she sings to him songs of praise & slaughter. ( Iä, Iä, Iä. ) Tentacles instinctively wrap around him. Her own daughters join her, surrounding their mother & the Man of Glass, hissing & drooling like their mother.

❝ You have been missed, gnaiih. ❞ she says, obsidian lips crawling into a smile, revealing teeth wet with black that oozes down her chin, ❝ Have you come to see Andromeda? ❞

a terribly human chuckle resides in his throat, far too small for the powers of their kin.  stubbled cheeks crinkle beneath her grasp, molded to fluidity as his face churns like restless galaxies; this vessel was as infinite as his pride.  a hand trails across her jaw, down her tresses, lingers atop the head of her beautiful creation.  any other would quickly disintegrate within an acidic jaw, but his grasp met no more than a welcome nuzzle.  

" to see you, groh'n. "  his voice distorts in their ancient tongue, thunderous & mind-shattering.  " to look upon your works. "

[arles-bedroom]

Follow me, Satan Ilya Repin, 1895

[diimm-a]

@vicemirrored // cont.

" I WONDER if you would LIVE long enough to fulfill your idle threats —— you'd sooner choke on your words & a noose. "

[dangerthrillryanson]

Wake up

[diimm-a]

MALGORZATA.

            “ DO NOT CALL unto me the image of a fool. ” Despite the harshness of the wording there is only sorrow in her voice, though her eyes did try to remain steeled and unfeeling it was little more than artifice to shield herself from him. She must retreat, stepping away for his presence is too alike the smothering hand of death upon the mouth of babes, like the stale air of a house untouched for a year, or a wound freshly opened.  “ I know all too well what love is, and whatever of love you can feel is a mere echo. No, it is not some romantic affliction that has brought me here. ”

“ And yet - ” She hovers on the words, leading her hands to ring each other in nervous anxiety and chewing her unkissed lips. “ I sense something of the familiar in you, as if I have known you before, or have always known you. ” Wide eyes stare in confused wonder upon him. His vicious snarl of a mouth that so tried to mimic a more pleasant grin, and yet could never hide the fiend within him. The glow of his eyes that cut into her as surely as a Witcher’s strike. “ You must know why this is so, but all the same you will not tell me. ”

“ Why? Do you delight in my torment? For never does the question leave me. It remains at all hours - haunting me with something I must know but cannot decipher. ” Gosia turns from him, and in truth she is the fool for allowing a wolf at her back. Idle hands twist the apron tied about her waist knots. The young girl sighs, her shoulders sagging beneath a weight she does not understand, eyes glossy with the beginning of tears she so bravely tries to mask. “ What a fool the Goddess makes of me, to lead me back here time and time again. ”

THE CIRCLE WAS ETERNAL, as it was when the stars were dust & as it would be when the nuclear court consumed the earth ( he waited & waited; the elder ones waited ).  worlds have died countless times, all the same —— people fell fickler, crafted from basic concoctions of nerves & blood that unraveled 'round their primal desires.  gods grew weary of human greed through millennia, but she!!  oh, she was UNIQUE.

" you seek chaos, & to chaos you come. "

a statement slithered sharp from a forked tongue, each syllable aimed to tease the hairs upon her neck to raise.  HE was a beast of fixation, obsessive & suffocating about everything that he chose to swallow whole.  glistening like a prize, he knew that moonlight puddled at the base of her mouth; it called to be taken into glass 'till it died within darkened frames, & what was he if not a fulfiller of longing?  fingers twitched at the tips, mimicked a rhythm of fluttering hearts or fearful feet like his smile mimicked a savior.  

" I do not compel you to anything, dearest gosia —— you are here entirely by your own will & curiosity. "  the waves were never to blame for drowning the wayward child, for even grieving mothers came to recognize the universe as ever impersonal.  to see her turn from cruel truths only spread predatory, dry-cracked lips ( it proved easier to stumble into the shadows with closed eyes ).  the mirror offered a gurgled laugh, boots settled still amidst the roots below.  " you must first be honest with yourself. "

[diimm-a]

a very happy birthday to @charyka!!  

[diimm-a]

cheer me up by telling me what your muse would wish for?

[diimm-a]

WALTER.

“He comes to bedsides, icy bridges, battlefronts, and crumbling ridges.”

There is dust on his boots, on his hands. There is dust in the space in his teeth.

“When he comes, he comes alone.”

There is a tradition, it is old as time: words are replaced and marred, burned new, shaped like the darkness burning. They are troves, tight taunt little spaces, that keep their nature inside.

They are riddles.

“Taps a shoulder, then is gone.”

THEY WERE NOT HUMBLE CREATURES, even as they swaddled themselves in all too fragile skin & restrictive forms.  death, of course, was as fickle as mortal flesh —— souls remained facile, only waiting to be plucked from their rest, to dance ghostly trails between what is & what is not alive. 

the mirror needn't indulge in answers; such was their very being.  he should be mist, circling 'round worlds formed of crooked branches & prey caged to his tainted imagination, tormented by resonant words oh so simple.

" you are more than death —— you are a fate worse. "

[diimm-a]

i never cheat.

[finelendal-deactivated20190404]

 in the hall where she stood, the light seemed to fade  ;  it was not that it dimmed or DULLED, but that it collapsed && sunk into the space she occupied. As if even sunshine faltered around her.