#⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ INTERACTION ⌜ heard a voice that said this is the end. ⌟ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punktrsh · 2 years

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@ohfiendangelical 🖤

they’d touched down in newark what felt like minutes ago; survived manhattan traffic in a frenzy of veuve and snow in the back of a blacked out tahoe only to find themselves ath the electric room. a meager attempt to kill time before the band found a better way to waste their evening. was early enough that it wasn’t packed, not quite yet; no trust fund nyu brats or aspiring influencers to be seen —- just the regulars, the people who really belonged here, who would fuck off sometime before midnight and go to their real destination. tristan made his way towards the bar, composed and collected save for his blown pupils as he ordered a whiskey neat and waited patiently. eyes roamed the counter before taking in a familiar face, or maybe familiar was the wrong word, maybe the word he was looking for was interesting. a face he would want to get to know. “hey,” a hint of a smile as he settled into the seat beside the blond, “have we met before?”

#ohfiendangelical #c:ohfiendangelical #⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ INTERACTION ⌜ heard a voice that said this is the end. ⌟#⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ SPEAKING ⌜ like dying to catch a ghost. ⌟

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punktrsh · 2 years

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@immortalitae 🖤

it was rare he took commission work from strangers nowadays, even rarer he’d agree to crafting magic items. was a craft he’d toiled with in his youth, and while it proved useful, it was something he had little interest in. found, with the gift of time he’d be given, he rather spend it in meaningful ways. would rather enjoy himself, than waste times doing things he didn’t care for. but his curiosity had been piqued, had never had a vampire cross his threshold, certainly never had one ask him for something outright. “if you’re so concerned about the look of it,” which in his opinion was ridiculous, couldn’t fathom the importance of its aesthetic when its function was its sole purpose. “i can charm it for a price —- no one will see it’s true form but me. otherwise, your ring is ready.”

#immortalitae #c:immortalitae #⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ INTERACTION ⌜ heard a voice that said this is the end. ⌟#⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ SPEAKING ⌜ like dying to catch a ghost. ⌟

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punktrsh · 2 years

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@oneyeclosed 🖤’d for a starter.

truthfully, he’d forgotten all about this paper. had procrastinated, given himself an hour to complete it, and decided never to think of it again. found if he spent too much time thinking about his work, he often set himself up for failure. was somehow both surprised and not at all upon receiving his paper back. a dark red A+ coupled with praise directly from his professor. nice job, dumont. highest grade in the class. offered a small nod, a half-smile that faded quickly and never quite met his eyes. “thank you.” his chin rested on his palm, free hand sliding his paper into his notebook. his classmates were pouring over their papers, the teacher’s revisions, constructive criticism —- tristan? would maybe take a glance later if he remembered, instead turned his attention to the clock before he found his gaze straying in palmer’s direction. “you got an A, didn’t you?”

#oneyeclosed #c:oneyeclosed #⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ INTERACTION ⌜ heard a voice that said this is the end. ⌟#⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ SPEAKING ⌜ like dying to catch a ghost. ⌟

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punktrsh · 2 years

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❝ i have washed my hands a thousand times but still can see the blood. ❞

la dispute meme.

that was the thing about irene —- wasn’t sure if she was aware, but her feelings radiated off her in waves. didn’t matter if it was good or bad, seemed whatever she was feeling he could damn near taste it. was inclined to believe it was due to the intensity and depth of her emotions, was after all, just a girl who had fallen from grace and experienced inexplicable horrors. would think a much weaker woman would crumble in her place; but not irene. no, she endured, and perhaps that was one of the reasons why tristan had been so quick to understand her. thought it was admirable, her refusal to let what the angels had done destroy her, her persistence, her desire to make the best of a bad situation. though, it couldn’t be too bad, right? at least he hoped not, he’d been trying to make her stay pleasant rather than just tolerable.

tonight it’s guilt, sharp and bitter. rests in her posture, in her gait, in the way she refused to let her eyes meet his. admittedly, he’d never been much good at comforting others. didn’t know what to do or say, had never been comforted himself, and given her situation didn’t think he had anything useful to offer. as powerful and capable as tristan was, he couldn’t get her wings back, couldn’t get her back into heaven, and despite his skill he couldn’t bring charlie back either. her peers had made sure of that. all he could do was listen and empathize, which was better than nothing, but still not much at all.

the sound of running water pulled him from his stupor, instantly hit with the realization that she’d been washing her hands for well over ten minutes, that the water was scalding. and while he would heal her wounds without second thought, that didn’t mean he could sit idle and watch her hurt herself either. “irene,” voice soft as he reached past her to shut off the water, “what are you doing?” though he was met with silence, a long pause before glassy blues met his.

“i have washed my hands a thousand times but still can see the blood.”

whose blood? at least, that was what he’d wanted to ask. her own, from when they took her wings? or her charge’s? but he refrained from asking, knew, by nature of knowing irene, that it had to be the latter. “irene, listen to me,” reached for a nearby towel and gently dried her hands before meeting her gaze. “it’s not your fault charlie died,” and he meant it, thought it had been a cruel, senseless murder. had she done the right thing? personally, he didn’t think she’d done anything wrong —- but even if he were willing to yield and say she’d done wrong by heaven’s standards, the punishment didn’t fit the crime. was willing to say through an objective and subjective lens, that if her god was meant to be a just one, he’d failed miserably. “do you understand that? his blood is not on your hands,” not that it would undo the horror she’d seen. tristan didn’t need to be a genius to know, whatever they’d done to the mortal, they’d done right in front of her. that they’d forced her to watch on helplessly as they snuffed the boy out. “in their quest for righteousness, those other angels did somethin’ that was truly unforgivably evil, and then put the blame on you.” which disgusted him more than anything, dared them to come down here and pick on someone their own size. what he wouldn’t give to provide them a taste of their own medicine.

couldn’t stop the way he was already fantasizing on exacting revenge; would rip their wings from their bodies as if they were flies. a painful slow death, one seraph at a time —- would torture and maim one by one, until they begged for death in the form of mercy. and he would deliver, but it would be far from what they’d ask for. would make them so terrified that they were thrown into madness, unable to recall who or what they were, that it’d be impossible to see through the dark red veil of anguish and pain he’d swathed them in. and then, maybe, he’d show them the same mercy they’d shown irene. none at all; just ruthlessness.

“i know that doesn’t make it better,” he said finally, ushering her to a seat at the kitchen table, “but i can’t let you shoulder the blame for something that isn’t your fault. even if you try and tell me you did something wrong,” which he disagreed with, “they were looking for an excuse to torture you, and you can’t let them win.”

#wvtchy #a:wvtchy #⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ INTERACTION ⌜ heard a voice that said this is the end. ⌟#⌞ 🐈‍⬛ ⌝ ALT. VERSE 2 ⟶ ANSWERED ⌜ i confide in wolves at night. ⌟

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