#godpyre

[ingolds-archived]

“ will you take me with you? ” 🌕 assorted questions

“ you don't know where i'm going, il mio più caro. ” a dangerous step, to refer to him so casually, so intimately, but they have always endeavored to keep armand on the back foot. the sun draws him near, bold and bright and daring; the moon, however, holds him at arms' length. it's safer, they reason with themselves, to prevent armand from standing within burning distance. safer, they insist, if he does not discover that there is less to theodosius than he imagines.

they tip their head to the side, studying him with a cool, assessing stare. careful, so as not to startle either of them, theodosius curls their fingers around armand's jaw, thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth.

“ next time, perhaps. we will see each other again. ”

@spookypyre

[tr4umaborn]

" no peeking. " there's a deft smile on louis' face as he keeps his hands over @godpyre's eyes. in louis' world birthdays were special. even as a vampire, they began to take a different shape. it's not about counting the years, but separating out a day where everything can be just about you. if armand had his way, every day would be that way. . . well honestly that may be exactly what their life was like. creating the ultimate moments for the other that resulted this time in spending the next month or more in a cabin in the middle of the woods. norway was it? there was a goal in mind, one that louis intended to make sure was checked off tonight. he'd led his husband through the woods, guiding their bodies with ease until finally. . . a clearing.

he'd closed his own eyes too. just to take it in together now that the trees had cleared from their line of vision. " alright. . . open your eyes. " when louis does the same he sees the colors first. the beautiful swirls of stars as they paint the night sky in a rainbow. the new ring lingering on louis' left finger shined as it bathed in the light, hands now resting around armand's neck. it's breathtaking. nothing like he'd ever seen before.

" you said you wanted to see something beautiful for your birthday. so. . . happy birthday my love. "

[chateautangerine]

@godpyre continued from this

Lightheaded. Light years away. Cliff stares into nothing, and in the absolute silence of his own head, he feels as though he's lied in a tub for the last humid day and a half, the bathwater long and eternally cold, his eyes plastered to the interminable crawl of a ceiling fan above.

He's dizzy. Maybe he's taken in water. He’s slept for fifteen hours before this, and Cliff stops walking, grazing the side of his neck.

"I never knew we had a garden," he thinks to himself, pitching high with wonderment. He looks back to him, then, softer, "Follow me, little amigo."

Andrei had tapped his shoulders from behind to egg him forward. Cliff continues with a sluggishness. He does not remember what happened while he was home. He had too much to drink, perhaps. Too much of something. A black hole exists in his brain, soapy-headed. Suddenly, he stops.

"You wouldn't happen to find something on my neck, would you, Andrei?" Cliff turns in front of a mirror and, gingerly, he rubs at a spot below his ear. He glazes over at himself. "...I'd like to get better. "

[pagetorn]

@godpyre said: ' clean yourself up. you're getting blood everywhere. ' + archer 💀

Archer is not one to follow commands, especially from those he deems unfit to give orders. If anything, he feels compelled to sink his teeth further into his victim, tearing at flesh and letting crimson rivers flow from this gaping wound onto his boots. He maintains eye contact, a snarl in his throat and a rage behind red gaze.

Only when he's properly done feeding does he let the body crumble to the ground, bringing his hands to his mouth, and smearing blood over his face and neck. A grin stretches across his face at his own defiance.

[miercolaes]

amadeo / armand , possessed by @spookypyre has been cursed with this somewhat plotted interaction .

    ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️there’s  a  war  coming    —    it’s  brewing  in  the  thick  air  that  surrounds  the  addams  mansion,  along  with  the  tension  wednesday  brings  to  the  table.  solitude  was  out  of  her  reach  and  oh,  how  she  despised  it.  casus  belli?  the  uttermost  disgrace  there  is.  the  cause  of  war  limited  to  arrangements  made  by  the  worst  of  traitors.  her  own  family.  when  she  first  heard  this  proposal,  she  froze,  like  a  deer  afore  a  car’s  blinding  lights.  she  couldn’t  phantom  nor  comprehend  what  she  was  hearing.  in  a  state  of  awe,  she  approached  the  others  sitting  at  the  table,  like  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter.

    ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️a  deathly  stare  darts  upon  her  executioner,  words  stuck  in  the  back  of  her  throat.  up  until  that  moment,  she  didn’t  know  despise  at  first  glance  was  possible.  who  was  this  man  and  why  would  he  even  agree  to  this?  cursed  be  tradition,  this  was  not  ethical.  as  soon  as  her  parents  left  the  room  with  some  unknown  man,  wednesday  sat  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  a  glass  in  her  hand.  she  slowly  raised  it,  dark  gaze  refusing  to  look  at  him.  ❝  i  have  no  idea  what  my  parents  are  up  to,  ❞  cue  the  red  ichor  inside  the  glass  being  swirled  with  swift  motions  of  her  hand,  ❝  but  whatever  they  offered,  know  that  it  doesn’t  stand.  ❞  her  grasp  growing  tighter  on  the  glass,  glancing  at  the  other.  ❝  i  advise  you  to  leave  while  you’re  still  alive.  ❞

[soughtknowledge]

hozier lyrics, unreal unearth edition

@godpyre asked: ❛ i'm starving, darling; let me put my lips to something. ❜ lil sippy sip never hurt nobawdy

HER BROWS raise slowly behind her glasses at the implication . the request is joined by a step toward her from the vampire .

❝ i sincerely doubt my blood will sustain you . i'm a DEMON . it barely sustains me . 's'it worth risking your life over ? ❞ he asks with the slightest hint of amusement .

[deathmaiidens]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs! It's time to spread positivity! ☆

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ANGEL 💖💖💖💖

[vamprincen]

" i hate hurricane season. the worst humans are the ones out. " kol is also beginning to hate louisiana but that's not the point of things. the blood on their soul is only marker. / @godpyre gets a starter.

[ingolds-archived]

026. a large penthouse ( armand's ) overlooking the city. 🌕 setting prompts

“ this is... ” theo trails off, unsure of where to go from here. the lap of luxury is not somewhere they'd made their home in. everything armand owns is new to them: the great bay of windows taking up an entire wall, the pristine marble floors, the paintings hung on walls that theo knows without a doubt are legitimate pieces. their own apartment is far more understated. before that?

the barracks were large but crowded, sounds echoing off stone walls and dust coating their skin in a fine layer. the mountains were isolated and harsh, brutally cold in the winter and thick with humidity in the summer. they don't miss either of them.

“ luxurious, ” they eventually conclude, hushed as they stride closer to the glass that overlooks the quiet, slumbering structures sprawled out to the edges of city limits. the moon is absent tonight, a deep blue abyss stretching to either horizon, but the stars are bright, twinkling and countless in the cloudless sky. orion notches his bow, ursus major lumbering slowly over skyscrapers. theo studies the flicker of those constellations in armand's dark pupils, how they cast him in tricky, shifting light.

he could be a statue, created from the same marble his home is. a crown of stars rests about his head, glittering and pale. theo acutely feels the cool breadth of the shadows they stand in when they speak again.

“ and dangerous. doesn't the sun rise on this side of the city? ”

@godpyre

[zealctry]

@godpyre sent a 🖤 ( meme, accepting. )

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / BOSSY / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them / I'd sacrifice them to Jashin.

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

[chateautangerine]

@godpyre asked: [ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver see each other again after a period of being apart and [ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood (between thumb and pointer finger, specifically) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 (accepting)

By eleven, most of the East Coast had already tucked themselves into the cotton safety of their rumpled beds, the stores all black-out emptied, the streets vacant save for late-night troublemakers. The yawning graveyard shift. So when Cliff, slicing at lemons and hearing the color blue, caught the sound of his doorbell going off, he thought he hadn't. 

He walked to the front and turned-click the deadbolt. 

He stood still, and realization came slow with a crawl. 

"Where did you run off to…" Cliff whispered around a cigarette, sweet and wispy, eyes pillowy. A second trudges by. Then, through his nose, "Come in."

Now it’s ten to twelve. 

He hasn’t seen Andrei in nobody knows. Andrei is an anomaly. Armand, all black against the white, dingy walls. Armand, a storm at sea. Armand is a shadow that hides everything inside of it, and in the stew of neurons and cranial fluid of Cliff’s soupy mind, he unconsciously thought of everyone in the Tangerine as a dream, gone in the morning; a thing that doesn't exist.

Armand is bleeding into his waking world. Maybe he's a hallucination. 

“I ran away once,” Cliff brings up, deeply airy, sunken into his couch. "Very often." Lemons spill into his plate. It fills his nose. “I did indeed.”

Did Andrei run from home? That's why he's here? Colors are brighter. Everything sparkles. Cliff’s set gin down on the table, in front of them a dinner-plate ashtray, and near that, a coffee grinder, powdered white. He might have a movie playing on the old cathode-ray TV. Space Odyssey. 

The screen is off. 

“I never told you where I live...” he sighs, then, windy. Cliff picks up a slice, dropping it into his glass. 

He watches red smear inside of it, head tilting.

“Why don't I remember that?"

Red and warm, a stream dripping down his hand. He must have cut himself with the knife, but he remembers none of it—neither the sharp, stinging pain of splitting himself open nor the burn that should have come after. He remembers none of this, either: Armand settling into the empty space beside him, the couch moaning with added weight. Armand watching him, eyes black, ink in milk, and if he'd opened his mouth to say anything at all, Cliff perceived little as this dark-haired thing in all its nighttime cruelty, open-mouthed and all teeth, bites his hand. A pinch. A second.

Twelve midnight.

He may have dug against the arm of his couch, grasping at the fabric until his bones trembled like a man pulling himself from the edge of a mountain, his eyes wide open, every thought stolen. Cliff is nowhere. Cliff is everywhere. Cliff has tripped and fallen upwards, crashing through a galaxy of constellations and mescaline, and in the warmth of this own home, a victim within these four white walls, he knows he would surely die for his own technicolor rainbow of half-consciousness, his primordial, vicious need to be anywhere else.

Armand, a hallucination. Armand, the aftermath of an extra dose. Armand is a thing that doesn't belong, and the moon is glowing and the TV screams.

In the sunny hours of the morning, the cherry-red numbers of his clock flickering, Cliff stirs in his mass of tangled bedsheets, slowly forgetting the contents of his dream, his head fuzzy static and mouth cotton dry.

He stumbles into the bathroom not remembering where he is, turning the knobs to the sink.

He can't scrub the dots off his hand.

[vyrulent]

starter call | @godpyre

The vampire king of Mississippi could charm anyone -- three thousand years of surviving this cruel world had brought him a myriad of talents. Persuasion and charm exuded from him. Except for in those moments when his hot headed temper found the better of him, as it had earlier.

"I do apologize," an adopted southern accent seeps through his words, "for that spot of ugliness earlier. A king's business is never done. A slack hand led to that insubordination."

All had been taken care of in a swift action. Though, it had left his husband bitching about the precious rug -- of which, Russell could have so easily replaced. Russell leaned forward in his chair, full attention focused on his company.

"I appreciate the visit. It's an old world respect you don't see much with these newer vampires," a pause, "Have you taken a chance at the slots? I hear Biloxi has been payin' out well these days."

[miercolaes]

hc + 😶 (in the context of our verse :3)

if we choose the ignore despise at first sight for the narrative we cooked up, we can easily see all the reasons why wednesday would fall prey to @spookypyre. and it wasn't because he forced it on her. it's the little things that have fallen into place overtime. and then, there are the shared secrets that bound them together. when erin morgenstern said "secrets have power, and that power diminishes when they are shared, so they are best kept and kept well. sharing secrets, real secrets, important ones, with even one other person, will change them" and when erving goffman said "often, the real secret behind the mystery is that there really is no mystery; the real problem is to prevent the audience from learning this too", they must've known of the long lost tale of amadeo and wednesday. for a secret can bind people together just as it can drift them apart.

it was late afternoon when wednesday was losing track with reality in the situation she found herself in. defying the authority which led only by a slight difference in age. her executioner joined her and for once, she didn't protest. instead, she chose to offer something valuable with the hope of getting the deed returned to her someday in the future.

i'm afraid of many things, believe it or not. but what i'm most afraid of is losing myself. i fear this deal we got caught up in will be the death of me. of who i am. all my life i've considered myself a solitary thing and i'm no longer that with you haunting me. and the worst part of it all, is that, as any other demented human, i too give in into temptation. being by your side is a death sentence i'm embracing, despite all the reason not to. i'm afraid of you because you drive me mad. and it is a path i know i can't walk away from anytime soon.

and as every other story goes, not too long after such soul-wrenching confession, another has followed. though time and space would help paint a clearer view of what happened, there's always been confusion and loss of details. but what i can promise is, that this happened as well and it is not a work of fiction. unfortunately, all is lost when it comes from another's perspective, who's skewed and faded by the time it's told again.

wednesday remembers standing by amadeo, her fear a master she obeyed to. the only one she'd worship. what she feared most has finally came to fruition and she bares the fruit whenever she's beside him, showing only the slightest amount of empathy she's capable of weaving. the man that struck the deal with her parents visited once more and this time wednesday noticed a sudden shift in amadeo's disposition. it didn't take long until amadeo shared his own fear, coming not from an intrinsic core, but from another walking being. she listened to the torture he's been put under and she couldn't help envisioning all the torturing they could inflict in return. neither was alone anymore and there was strength to that as it was weakness. but wednesay could not see reality past the ichor hued glasses anger has brought.

as it turns out, there was despise at first sight. but it was never amadeo whom she despised ; for all she knows, he was a victim, just like she was.

[soughtknowledge]

@godpyre liked for a starter !

HIS HEAD lifts and his nose twitches . the smell is followed with bright yellow eyes hidden behind deep black sunglasses , until they land on a figure . a beautiful figure , even crowley can tell , and she's usually not particularly good at that with humans . but he looks like a statue , a painting , the art of times past , art created and revered that crowley misses dearly with every passing century . and here are those paintings made flesh .

but it wasn't the beauty that initially drew the demon . it was the SMELL . something off , too clean , too metallic . something not human . against every usual practice of the demon named crowley , she makes her way over .

[deathmaiidens]

claudia/louis photo but its just

It's true and you should say it!

[pagetorn]

💍🖊🍝

munday asks!

💍 — any piercings?

I got my ears pierced but I'm a big baby when it comes to needles. (says the bitch who wants more tattoos). honestly needles for piercings and needles for tattoos are so different in my mind that i can't associate them together but it has something to do with the actual piercing aspect that makes me kinda queasy.

🖊 — any tattoos?

I have two! One on my hippie and one on my collar area.

🍝 — favorite food(s)?

mac and cheese is my comfort food always. it's something that if i'm struggling with texture, i will be able to eat it no matter what. i swear if i ever can't eat mac and cheese i may lose my mind