Noe X Vanitas Novels & Stories

"I didn't know how to cherish you. I came here today to say... I'm sorry." Vanessa's lips curved into a soft smile. She'd made peace with it all. "It's all in the past." Scott nodded, a bitter smile tugging at his face. "Goodbye, Vanessa." "Goodbye, Scott." She stood there, watching his hunched figure shuffle down the road. Tilting her head back, Vanessa looked up at the endless blue sky. Goodbye... forever.

The architects had permanently left the building, dismantling the tracks behind them and burying the last of their family ghosts deep within the bedrock of the mountain. "No more timelines, Vance," Noah whispered, stepping up right next to him on the stone path. He reached out, his hand coming flat against the side of Vance’s neck, feeling the strong, steady pulse there as Muna let out another happy, childish babble above them. "You promised me an open field." Vance turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto Noah’s face with a fierce, absolute focus that left zero room for distance. He reached down with his free hand, his thick fingers tangling into Noah's hand, gripping it with a heavy, gr

"Yeah, then look at artists like Vincent van Gogh. Do you want to be an artist like him, or Bob Ross?" Noel is already expectant of him to say something snarky, but this time he actually poses a point in what he is saying. Although both painters are known for their work, before and after their golden time, they are known and remembered in two very different ways. When Noel thinks of artists like Bob Ross, she thinks of simple and serene paintings. When she thinks of Vincent van Gogh, she thinks of daring and eccentric artwork. Both have their place in the world, but what kind of artist does Noel want to be known and remembered as? A shut in with limited varieties, or an eccentric with bounti

Her gaze was completely blank, locked entirely on the frantic, hammering pulse at Jessica's throat. "Phase Four: Part One," Vane whispered. He stepped directly behind me. I could feel the cold, sterile draft of his presence. He rested his pale hand lightly on the back of my steel chair, leaning in close so his voice slithered directly into my ear. "The Death of Devotion," Vane murmured, watching the screen with clinical fascination. "Watch closely, Lolita. This is the precise moment your feral, beautiful empire begins to bleed. Let us see how much your hounds truly love you."

Vincenzo leaned down. "You okay, butterfly?" Noel nodded slowly. "Only if we disappear after this. Just us." Vincenzo tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "You’re already mine. But tonight… I want to ruin you again." Noel flushed. "Let’s get the hell out of here."

Why could he only think about the one he was soon going to get rid of? Vanessa knew he'd be in his cave. Hidden away after the party. That was his way of ending the day with order intact. She saw him leaning over the table and wanted to replace whatever held his attention. Noah, from a distance, looked more pious. And whatever they had was worth consideration, effort and seeing beyond one's pain. It was no help that casual Noah was stamped on the back of her iris. Noah, casually leaning a hip against an inanimate object.

A cruel, knowing smirk twisted his thin lips, cracking the aristocratic mask into something entirely predatory. As Veda had predicted, Vane’s ancient, highly sensitive nose instantly picked up the heavy, foul stench of the necrotic clay painted beneath Leela's clothes. "Fascinating," Vane purred, his voice dropping into a dark, condescending hum as he stepped fully into the room. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, clearly savoring the scent of what he believed was absolute, pathetic desperation. "Death magic. You paint your own womb in graveyard dirt to hide the scent of your young."

He dragged it out and found ashes inside, along with scraps of paper. The words "Love Handbook" were scorched halfway through. There were also fragments of photographs. He collapsed onto the floor. "Winnie…"

xx - Joshua If it weren't for the fact that I'm partially still mad at him, I probably would be swooning over the two small x's at the end. And don't forget about the your special part. I can barely contain my grin. I'll C u then. I send back, contemplating whether or not I should add a small kiss as well. My mind votes no to which my heart screams yes- seeing as my heart hasn't brought me very far in my live life, I'll be going with my head this time. I'm expecting one hell of an apology when you're back, Joshua. I quickly add when I see he's typing back at me.

Chapter Seventy-Two: Beneath the Surface Vanessa tapped her long, polished nails on the wooden table of the quaint café she'd chosen for her meeting with Clara. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filtered through the air, mingling with the soft hum of murmurs around her. Clara was already running five minutes behind, but Vanessa wasn't bothered. It gave her time to strategize. This wasn’t just a casual catch-up—it was a carefully crafted move to uncover the truth about Noah and Stephanie.