eye-demon

[eye-demon]

884. For a spy, getting someone to lie for you serves a number of purposes. It’s less about the lie itself, no matter how useful it is. It’s about how it changes your relationship with your target. Once a guy lies for you, for better or for worse, your fates are tied together.

[eye-demon]

Jenny Holzer

[eye-demon]

OPEN

23:09 - 18 hours since initial defect.

We don’t go home. 

That’s the point Villanelle is sure of when she’s out here in the grand emptiness of the interstate highway in upper state New York off of a little place called Cuylerville. She isn’t sure of where exactly she is now because Cuylerville could of been an hour or five days ago. She had ditched the car she had been using back somewhere in Letchworth with the former owner dead in the passenger seat-it’s a long and simple story really but who has the time. 

Now she’s grazing the side streets that are too long, too cold and too open on all sides to really read the queues, any sent handler could come along the grassy inlands and ambush her, bludgeon her in the dark and drag her open skull back into the forest. Yet, as her legs dragged her forward with astounding spite and a slim will to live, she spotted a gas station only a couple meters into the distance. 

Villanelle appeared from out of the dark of the empty roads, limping ever so often from the wound on her left thigh branding dried splotchy marks against her faded blue jeans. She reached closer to the gas station and it declared itself useless as any other. Not many people were there, but a car in the front  probably owned by the workers. She walked past the store front and up the back end and seen a pickup truck illuminated by the condescending fluorescent lights from up above. Her shiny little beacon of freedom calling out to her in it’s vintage raggedy siege. It was left unattended as she had hoped, it’s owner probably still in the store. Villanelle tried for the drivers side and of course it was locked, the passenger- that too. She had half the brain left to just hide out in the open trunk but her hand was already at the back door of the passenger seat.

 It clicked and it opened. She slid into the back- and then to the front. Her eyes trained to the store front now, she could see two people at the check out, a customer with their back turned still shopping around. She would only need thirty seconds, less if she wasn’t exhausted. Yet, she still had the mind to hotwire the thing, and as the truck roared it self alive, Villanelle heard the door click. 

They swung the door open. She startled, jolting up from her crouched position Quickly, she thought, hands in the air, a disheveled disposition- people respond better if you don’t outright attack them for stealing their car. Feign innocence or something similar stupidity maybe- she’s really good at that shit. 

“Oh my god, oh my god!  Please don’t hurt me.” She stammered her eyes wide, she skidded back practically into the passenger seat. “I just needed to use the car and get outta here. I’m in trouble.” Her eyes darted back and forth between the stranger, the gas station workers who didn’t look like simple gas station workers if she had the time to glance any closer. They were coming outside to investigate. 

Villanelle looked at them and the obvious handlers approaching the truck one of them peeling out a pistol from their back. There was still some distance between all of them so that meant time. But not for long. 

Her facade dropped, her accent slipped.“Get in the fucking truck.” She said,giving them about ten seconds to make up their mind before a bullet went through the windshield- and it did. 

“Are you fucking stupid? You’re just going to stand there?” 

[eye-demon]

[ from daeyeon ] / I love you the way a knife loves a heart the way a bomb loves a crowd the way your mother warned you about, essentially.

@starrdew | ….fuck.

                                    Oxana does not love Daeyeon. 

I love you the way a knife loves a heart, 

i. His legs kick underneath her as he struggles. He is broader naturally and the added adrenaline mixed in with the human reflex and stubborn need for air makes her think he might just slip from the hold she has on his neck as she pushes his head underneath the water. 

They’re in his bathroom together and Daeyeon wondered what it was like to drown- supposedly this being he cruelest way to die. Villanelle laughs and he doesn’t, so she shows him. Filling the tub to it’s brink and shoving his head underneath the water. She shows him that if his mind is null to death, surely no human body can say the same.  

So she keeps him there, her hands wrapped around his neck and as much as the wants to she doesn’t put all of her strength into it, but there are moments when she forgets herself. When she realizes she can control the very fact on whether he gets to breathe again or not, enlightens a familiar fire inside. 

Her thighs lock around him, and her fingers squeeze as hard as she can feeling for the familiar ‘pop’ when crushing a trachea. Villanelle stares at him through the clarity of the water, struggling even more with his mouth a gate of bubbles and as her eyes meeting his. There’s nothing. Not that she’s taken his life so therefore there is nothing. 

Villanelle realizes there is nothing in him.No where for the soul to sink deeper. 

She lets him go, pulling her hands away from his throat. 

“My hands were cramping up.” She says, they stare at one another and Villanelle breaks the tension as she reaches for a towel and throws it in his face. 

“Dry off, you look like a lifeguard on crack.”

She’s surprised when he comes to bed with her, slips in on the other side and doesn’t say goodnight. She scoffs turning the other way. 

“You didn’t try hard enough.” She hears him say quietly his voice is a mess a broken gargle of words. Her palms slowly sweat from the phantom feeling. She says nothing for a long while, her body too betrays her, naked and seeking warmth. She turns to him and faces his back, this time her hands circle around him and she presses into his cold skin. 

Villanelle tries to smile, she tries to lighten his mood by ignoring how annoyed he is. She bites into his right shoulder playfully then kissing it. 

“You ever think maybe it’s because you can’t die?”  He doesn’t say anything and so there she sits in his silence, her heart beats the loudest in the room.

….the way a bomb loves a crowd. 

ii.. He somehow buys her an ice cream cone in the middle of January, it’s still snowing as she waves it- half eaten and all - under his nose. It’s her sorry way of sharing. 

“You wanna go somewhere?” She asks, he doesn’t look too keen on the idea or the ice cream or maybe he’s just saving face. She shrugs, “suit yourself. I mean I was just thinking, I always come to you when I’m on the job.” Her brows knit together before she lets it go. 

He tastes a bit of the ice cream just before Villanelle takes it back, she looks at it oddly and drops it down the walk-bridge they stand on, letting it plop onto somebody’s head. 

Daeyeon shouldn’t have listened to her, he shouldn’t have gone anywhere with her and Villanelle knows this. Yet she smiles at him from across the room. A room full of people they both don’t know. Her smile says something he’s trying to figure out. But it’s too late, Villanelle can’t wait any longer the room dims and the door locks. 

She shows him what her days consists of, what bodies she kills only for him to later examine. 

There’s at least ten people aside from herself and Daeyeon, and she clears them out. One by one, no gun, just a long ragged edged knife and her hungry hungry eyes. Daeyeon, sits on an expensive looking couch as she entertains him. It’s her favorite part of course how attentive he can be.. 

She looks down at her last victim as she strangles him-he’s the toughest out of her hits, made her drop her knife at least three times punched her so hard she felt the air in her lungs vanish. 

Villanelle is angled behind him as he tries to peel himself away from her, but her grip is vicious, he scratches and hollers but the moment he does, it gives her quick clever hands a chance to swing around and headlock his head just right, and then snap. He falls to the ground. 

There’s a moment of silence not for the dead bodies and definitely not because there isn’t anything to say. She walks to him, drenched in blood, the knife in her hand again drips profusely on to the marble floor. She kicks off her heels  and unfastens the buttons of her day dress easily letting her clothes and the knife fall  around her ankles. Villanelle catches her reflection on a mirrored platter behind them and rubs at the blood splayed on her face staining her lips and cheeks. She sits next to him quietly, her fingers on her knees. She looks to him and Daeyeon looks back with a smile on his face.. She hates it but he’s infectious, she smiles too, pulling herself up on his lap and closing her eyes for a moment. His hand gliding up her bare back before the door was knocked off of its hinges and it gets loud again.

…the way your mother warned you about, essentially. 

iii. It doesn’t have to be just about violence between them. They are “friends” so there comes a point in each of their lives where they are simply tired. And as friends they share a spliff and a bottle of the brownest liquor they could find and sit in silence. Moderated silence, but it’s silence and it’s the best Villanelle can give him. 

“My dad used to beat the shit out of my mom.” Its a statement alright…

Villanelle needs to get repressed trauma out some way just like anybody else- and just because she isn’t forward about them doesn’t mean they don’t exist inside of her. 

“I mean, not like she didn’t give him hell either or knock out a few teeth but….it’s one of the first things I can remember about them. The memories, “ she gestures to her head faintly, “they don’t even feel like mine. “ There’s a pause between and she takes another drag from her cigarette. “My mother used to say, ‘find someone who doesn’t love you too much.’ after he’d swing at her and she’d try to make me feel, I dunno safer.” She laughed at her own words until she didn’t. 

“Your mother never really liked you did she? Is that why she left?” She sees him now in the corner of her eye before she turns to look at him, “Don’t worry mines didn’t like me that much either.” She shrugged. 

Villanelle sighed letting the small puffs of cold air linger and fade. “I want someone who loves me too much.Not that I want to get punched in the fucking face, but you know..even if I don’t really think I know what that means” She tilts her head and knocks her shoulder with his. “Do you love me Daeyeon? Do you love me too much?” 

She eventually gets her answer, not that night, but eventually.

 {He says; I love you the way a knife loves a heart the way a bomb loves a crowd the way your mother warned you about, essentially.)

“I love you too.” Oxana has tears in her eyes, slow and clear lines that well up and promise to wash over her face from the pain. She thinks it’s pain- it has to be right? That this too can be painful? Or does it pain her because he’s done something far worse than the lovers in her life or her father and her mother have ever done. . 

Oxana needs him

He’s made her need him, some ways that is far more dangerous and crueler than love. “I love you too..but” 

She wants to ask if he’s sure but it’s a little too late for that now with his throat cut and him bleeding out between her fingers. It’s a feeble way to stop it but now she can sort of understand the frustration. There’s just so much blood and he keeps  choking on it. 

“Daeyeon, you’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

[eye-demon]

[eye-demon]

Konstantin: do you... have a boyfriend?

Villanelle: BITCH WHAT??? HOW?? WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT?? I WOULD NEVER!!! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I AM??

Daeyeon somewhere:

@starrdew

[eye-demon]

☎ you already know

NAME: Jason (because she saw she was Medea on his phone and thought it was funny - it was #31 before)

RINGTONE: it’s on vibrate all of the time

PICTURE: its a funny close up , she was tempted for the one where theyre kissing ngl

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: [JASON 00:35- excuse me?]

LAST TEXT SENT: [  00:32 - you aint shit.]

[eye-demon]

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone:

NAME:

RINGTONE: 

PICTURE: 

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: 

LAST TEXT SENT: 

[eye-demon]

Sometimes, the pain of love is more fulfilling than the ache of loneliness.

[eye-demon]

@starrdew i fucking hate u 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

[eye-demon]

everybody listen up. points are made / @eye-demon

[eye-demon]

The Little Drummer Girl (2018), dir. Park Chan-Wook

[eye-demon]

Malick Sidibé

[eye-demon]

Atlantique (2019), dir. Mati Diop

[eye-demon]

not a question but a casual message from a fan aka Daeyeon "If I am killed by Villanelle DO NOT prosecute her, cause SHE caught me SLIPPING. That is ON me" Yoon

She loves a man who knows how and who he is enough to know that they WILL slip up she can and probably WILL kill him. The days are wading of course.

…”You’re crazy.” 

It warms her heart a little. It’s embarrassing, but at least if she was ever caught killing him, this would be here for the world to know- he knows exactly what he’s getting into. Vil, swings her arms around him, gives him a kiss. 

“Thanks for letting me know.” 

[eye-demon]

what comes to her mind when she hears the words "deathbed", "chocolate", "mother", "blue". (not together, but each of them individually)

curious anons

DEATHBED. 

Konstantin was not her first handler. Or her only. There was a lady who managed her even better than Konstantin did, and of course she hated her. Out of no real reason or reason you would expect Villanelle to. She was a much older lady named Mama Abby who usually handled and subsidized assassins out of West and North Africa for The Twelve. Villanelle and Mama Abby had a complicated relationship that entailed a whole lot of (micro)aggression that stemmed out of the fact that Mama Abby never really saw her as a good assassin-too boisterous, rowdy, flashy, a complete show-off.

And for some reason this got on Villanelles nerves because secretely-she loves to please and be rewarded in some way and she never got that with her. Now, Mama Abby had a stare and a way of talking to people  that could dwindle anybody to their weakest level. This is what happened to Villanelle but, she also got better and thickened her skin. Needless to say Mama Abby was old and only got older up until she spent her last days in a hospital. Now, here is when she thinks about seeing Mama Abby in her last days, the woman surrounded by her family who probably had no idea what type of things she was really up to despite her old age. She thinks of deathbed and she thinks of how that’s just a shitty way to die to lay on your back and just take it- it shows no testament about what life she led. So of course, Villanelle killed her, violently. In her own deathbed at the hospital, punching her face in.  It’s not a kill she likes to remember, actually it’s rather personal and she never talks about it. 

CHOCOLATE

Caffe Bicerin has its walls lined by chocolates and sweets. Shes been there only twice in her life; once with her father when she was very little and again on vacation in Italy. She doesn’t really like or consume chocolate but she enjoys the environment and she thinks about the cafe when she thinks of chocolate.

MOTHER.

Villanelle barely remembers having one. She remembers how frightening she could be. Her hands, long thin, fragile and elegant always kept to themselves never really held her. Oxana remembers feeling that she [her mother] was larger than life, she could.make a whole room stand on end. But she also remembers the things she’d say to her. How she named her Oxana instead of something more traditional because it was the only way she could stop missing home.

As any mother does they dig a passage of trauma that journeys to the daughter. And as much as that memory of that person is hazy it isnt pleasent either. Her mother was extrememly neglectful and the abuse and the bubble of violence her mother and her father created in the home albeit a short amount of time, was significant enough for Oxana or rather Villanelle to remember her saying “find someone who doesn’t love you too much.” She’s combed over those words most of her life and falsley or expectedly came to the conclusion that violence can be love or at least an outcome.

BLUE.

THE COLOR OF KONSTANTINS EYES. THE HALLWAY LIGHT IN THE IK PRISONS THE COLOR OF THE WALLS, THE DIRTY UNIFORMS, THE SPLOTCHES IN THE KITCHEN. BLUE IS EMPTIER THAN WHITE. BLUE IS THE SMALL HOLE ON THE WALL IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT.

BLUE LOOKS REAL GOOD ON EVE.

BLUE ARE THE GAPS BETWEEN YOUR TEETH. BLUE IS THE COLOR OF THE COUCH YOU FUCKED ANNA ON.BLUE LIKE YOU. BLUE REALLY FUCKING HURTS.

BLUE LIKE YOU WHO IS DARKER THAN BLUE.