#tragicspirit

[specterseen-archived-blog]

﹥﹥ @tragicspirit​ liked for a starter!

“do you think i’m weird?”       it was the first thing robin could think to say. despite the occasional car going by and the ongoing sound of crickets, they were sitting in almost complete silence . . not that she minded. her gaze is still glued to the lights of the town, which can be perfectly seen from where the two are.

[dealher]

                                                it’s a beautiful day here in dante’s unwritten circle of hell, the chaos of testosterone and the feeling of needing to prove something has brought everyone out here. the parking lot away from teachers and their prying eyes. it's a proving ground where these disputes will inevitably spill out onto the internet and face scrutiny far beyond developing minds. it’s easy to get shoved, to get pushed and even hit when you’re on the outer circle. she isn’t, she’s standing on a car’s hood. she couldn’t put a dent in it if she was lucky, but her eyes are fixated on the two fighters. dumb and dumber, with bloodied fists and faces as badges of honor. she glances to an outlier, like her and motions for him to come up.      ❛  better  sight  up  here.  the  guy  in  the  red’s  winning.  ❜  //  @tragicspirit: sc.

[stabfan]

          “     well   marnie’s   GONE.     “     she   says   opening   her   locker,   her   once   silver   tongued   tone   absent.   the   teen   is   still   very   UNSETTLED   but   refuses   to   fall   behind   on   schoolwork.   she   casts   him   a   look.   jenny   KNOWS   she   has   no   right   to   ask   this   of   him   or   make   him   feel   OBLIGATED,   but   the   blonde   needed   a   presence   that   wasn’t   so   OUTRIGHT    pitiful   of   her   situation. 

          “     sit   with    me   at   lunch   today   ?     “     brow   arched   in   gentle   question,   pearly   whites   worry   her   bottom   lip.   jenny   randall   never   looked   nor   felt   so   small   before.     @tragicspirit   we   miss  u   <3

[notyourdeadgirlfriend-a]

@tragicspirit liked this for a starter!

❝ you’re a real JERK, you know that? ❞   her furrowed brows and harsh tone suggests that there’s far more she wishes to say -- but for now, she’ll let an icy glare do the talking.

[viideorentals-blog]

@tragicspirit ; starter call !

Oh, God. She had recognized him from one of her high school classes, and Kat loathed running into anyone remotely familiar from that hell-hole. She finds herself staring too long at the blonde. She raises her chin, curtly grins, and opens her mouth to profess a Video Rentals greeting,  but her manager from the back interrupts. “KaT!!!!!” She grits her teeth, bulges her eyes, and flashes the boy a look that screams k i l l   m e. 

[radiicn]

lips moves in slowly enough to be stopped, aeron’s height being used against him to bend down closer. and closer … and CLOSER until he’s finally where he’d imagined about being since junior high. the kiss is dry, brims locking just right before he dares to apply any pressure. his right paw carefully hooks around her lower back, the same hand that’s weeks away from methodically triggering a bullet into their classmates brain. her lips are warm and inviting — and he’s all of a sudden wondeirng why he’s never fucking done that before. lids are still closed while he pulls away, breaking the only intimacy they’d ever shared — and probably ever would. he waits to speak until he gathers SOME composure … enough so he’d at least be a quarter way coherent. ‘ … if i didn’t do that tonight, i don’t think i ever would’ve, ’ — before i DIE, not that you fucking care, ‘ so … sorry. well, not really. ’ shoulders heave gently, ‘ there’s a shit ton of food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. i’ll be in the basement if you need me. ’ a single turn of his heels and he walks away, anxious digits pushing away unkept curls from his line of vision. if she wanted to get in his head, he was going to fucking do it right back.

expect the unexpected -- a mantra to live by when you’re a perpetual control freak who refuses to be caught off guard ( hi alyson anderson ). dozens of scenarios and potential outcomes ; there’s not a one that the femme hasn’t lended a thought to. well, maybe except this situation. brims coated in cherry red lay motionless against that of her opposite. perhaps she’s caught in some parallel universe or knocked back one too many christmas cookies that she’s been comatose’d into some sort of dream state that’s left her with nothing more than sleep paralysis. lashes flutter rapidly like wings, dazed optics studying the taste his lips provided -- one that had only ever been given to her by the means of shared joints and dr. pepper bottles. the drawbridge of her jaw falls agape, breath warm and tainted spilling out like a flood. newton’s third law states that for every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction ; aly’s just toying with the idea of disproving such a thing. still stiff, her gaze will trail around the room -- noting the surplus of party guests before landing on the plant dangling above them. well, i guess that partially explains things. just as fast as he came, aeron’s biding her farewell in the same manner. she’ll scoff at his nerve as a manicured paw wrapped tightly around a solo cup elevates to exchange aeron’s leftover taste with that of a toxin. what ? couldn’t expect aly to show up to some lame christmas party without a bit of liquid courage to dull the annoyance, could you ? two swigs down and she’s followed the leader straight to the basement. booties hover against the top step as she’s brought back in aeron’s presence. ‘ really ? ’ another step is taken, orbs latched to the boy like tunnel vision. ‘ so you’re back-handedly telling me that you were sorta curious about what kissing me was like -- ’ she’s billowing down the stairs like some sort of princess making her grand entrance, strides calculated and leisurely. ‘ and you used the excuse of something as lame as mistletoe to find out ? ’ soles greet the flooring, their proximity only diminishing with each syllable spoken. ‘ that’s a pretty pussy move, brooks. ’  

[crimsondrive-blog]

└ 💀  °·:. tragicspirit  .:.  one liner  ━━            

❛   why the fuck do you have gasoline ? ❜

[etwasisims-blog]

( @tragicspirit )

   ❝ are you going to help me or not ? ❞

[seesdead-blog]

@tragicspirit ----- starter call

She was encapsulated in darkness. She pulls on the door handle to the basement, but it won’t budge. She knew it was a bad idea to follow the dreaded voices into the dark and dingy room, but her curiosity got the better of her. 

“Let me out...!” Her voice cracks and her heart beat quickens. Frantically, she slams her heel into the door. The voices are getting louder. CLOSER. They’re whispering all around her. Their words bounce off the furnace and  leaky pipes that hung from above. 

          “LET ME OUT!!”

[ghoulike]

@tragicspirit liked THIS for a starter

      “Honestly,” Luc started, fluttering long eyelashes over piercing eyes which held a note of excitement tinted with a shade of pure blood lust, under the scrutiny of one tainted by the same darkness it would be obvious, the look in their eyes, that they had seen MANY disturbing deaths and if one looked further they could also tell Lucian had been the CAUSE of said deaths. “I prefer a more personal method, but to each their own, as they say.” They very much were speaking of ways to kill, preferring blades or their own hands over any other method of killing, however, this normally odd topic of discussion was mostly to get a shocked reaction out of people, one of the many ways the demon of violence found entertainment. 

[radiicn]

innards ignite as if she’s just swallowed a match after consuming a steady diet of gasoline and she’ll burn until every ounce of rationale has been rendered to ash. she’s nothing more than a inferno ; a fiery pit of torment and yet aly’s not in search of any extinguisher. NO. her desire no longer craves relief. on the contrary, she wishes for the agony to spread like a forrest fire and scorch the culprit who first lit the flame. an eye for an eye. hues dull ; cherry veins disturbing their usual snowy appearance as an onslaught of tears has blurred her vision into only seeing RED. ‘ come on, c o m e on. ’ her timbre’s weak, each utterance heaving past chapped brims as if it’s depleting her energy one syllable at a time. a petite paw already stained with stripes of mascara extends to engulf the handle of aeron’s back door. it’s 10p.m. on the dot and a muddled mind has somehow convinced her that this is exactly where she needs to be.

[ashensolitude-blog]

Hello, dear humans.  This is just a tiny message to let you know that I’m well   &   alive,    I’ve just been sucked in by work for the past four days; yesterday I had a day out with my mum,      but the other four days it was filming   &  my flower job.       I have missed you lot,     &   it’s okay if you didn’t notice that I was gone;  my QUEUE is made for that purpose.  As for threads, I’ve everything I got these past five days in my drafts,    I don’t know  w h e n  I’ll get to them because I’m exhausted, but here is a little list of what I have; please know I WILL reply soon,          I’m just honestly so tired   &   though my muses are  yelling  at me to write, my emotions are  just  in  a  deep  drop since I’ve been around  a  lot  of people  for five  days  straight   &   I  just need to recharge before doing anything.  Please do forgive me,   I know I’m usually quick af,       WORK just fucked me over this week.  Remember I love you,             remember you’re wonderful, remember you’re capable of   a n y t h i n g   you set your mind to. Smile because you can! xx DRAFTS:  •JULIET:       - @tragicspirit      - @anditsxsorrows      - @ladycatherinegordon •DIANA:       - @anditsxsorrows

[baptizedevil-blog]

         they only talk to humans they think are worth of whatever offer the devil makes. worst and most twisted ideas, you name it. sick minds are what they are seeking for. ❛ Dost thou like to know thy future? i am a fortune teller. i know it.  ❜

@tragicspirit  ♡’d.

[medicalprodigy-blog]

@tragicspirit ; STARTER CALL.

      Most people would mistake Violet Graves as a “new girl” to the biology class. However, they would be mistaken. Violet Graves has always been registered as a student... She simply had the habit of never showing up. Lucky for the boy, Violet was coerced into showing up for the class. She approached the black, matte table and presented the blonde with a casual smile. “Hiya, I’m Violet! Guess we’re gonna be lab partners, today, huh?” Violet hated waking up at seven in the morning to attend classes, but the line of white powder she had just snorted five minutes prior to Biology II really woke her up. 

[radiicn]

◦ * • continued from : 🔪💀

unknowingly to his peers, aeron takes aim to his next victim, which earns the girl to the LEFT of aly a bullet to the sternum. ah jeez, was he purposefully trying to mess with her, or did he just have awful aim ?? nostrils flare, but he’s not upset. does it take having their classmates’ blood on her forehead to get her attention? but he stays calm. he knows the secret. his head cocks towards the windows as he hears cars pull up towards the entrance of the school, which means it was his time to go. not breaking from aly’s stare, he’ll speak to her for the last time, “ i think my work here is done. ” his face is place and cut, blood crusted beneath his right stril. aeron truly was at his lowest — and she had been the one to put him there. had today just become revenge on aly, with some pieces on the side? no matter what, he felt good about what he accomplished –— aeron made his makrk. he can now peacfully go to his halcyon now, wherever that was. aeron decides to meander around the school for his last moments, not wanting to off himself in front of the girl. how considerate was he? it was more damning to leave it up to the imagination. giving her one final gesture, he’ll place a finger gun to his temple while backing out of the classroom — something they’d done to each other a thousand times. a final adios to the tornado that was aly anderson and aeron brooks — but maybe we’ll see them again on the other side.  

BAP, BAP, BAP. ear piercing shots ring out like the world’s most sinister symphony ; a tell-tale sign that dooms day has finally arrived. aly has pictured this scenario dozens of times, the end all, be all that would deliver the population of castleman high school with exactly what it deserves but there was no rehearsal that could’ve prepared her for this moment -- the moment where she’s faced with the reality that she's just as deserving as any for the wrath behind the bullets. you see, she’s no better than any white-capped jock and for the first time in her life, she’s fearful of the all familiar footsteps that only a well worn in pair of combat boots can resound. BAP, BAP, BAP. trembling paws magnetize to either side of her cranium, palms tattooed tightly against her ears in order to block the frantic shrills but it’ll render useless. aeron’s gifted her with court side seats to human suffering and it seems as though the game is far from over. chapped brims glue together, her eyelids mirroring the action as her frame jolts from each shot fired. she's curling into a ball, limbs tightly bound together as her index and thumb inherently pinch the flesh of her elbow -- a shoddy attempt to wake herself from this krueger-worthy nightmare she’s found herself trapped within. ‘ oh my god. ’ a mantra of fear spills from her tongue as a frame warm and limp slumps over, an unbearable dead-weight pushing against her shoulder as it tie-dyes her flannel with crimson. BAP. her jaw falls agape ; the sudden inability to form a sentence clawing at her throat until yet another bullet is muffled by an entry wound to the chest of a nearby classmate. orbs blurred with salt find a stare they had latched too far too many times to count ; her pupils dilating at the sight of a boy she had once deemed as her very best friend as she only watches him back out of the classroom.

thoughts unable to attach to reasoning carousel around her mind -- her chest cavity overflowing with questions aimed toward aeron and the mystery of why he had spared her. weeks of radio silence and cold shoulders had painted a clear picture of their deteriorating relationship. if the boy had ever taken the time to scribe a ‘ shit list, ’ she’d certainly find herself at the top in bold ink. it’s not like aly’s unaware of her standing with aeron -- in fact, she’s hyperaware ; each day without his routine presence only seeming to drive a dagger into the heart she was only attempting to heal but with a body count too high to count and a suicide mission already in action, it seems as if her strongest muscle won’t experience alleviation anytime soon. well, unless she gets to her ex-partner in crime before his suicide bullet does. 

stained paws cool themselves on the linoleum ; every ounce of willpower and strength tangoing with adrenaline in order to forklift her frame from around the fatalities. converse step over the corpses, her footprints sinking into puddles of blood as she makes her way into the hall. sirens and deafening alarms only add to her dizziness, lower extremities stumbling along as if she’s had one too many cocktails until she’s followed the path of bloody tracks to the culprit behind them. white as snow, her sheathing’s drained of color with only ruby splattering adding pigment to her mien. ‘ SHOOT ME. ’ a death wish guised as a command is directed towards the back of aeron. ‘ if you don’t give a shit about me anymore then shoot me. ’ salt breeches the waterline ; dark strands falling into her line of vision.