ANGEL AUTOPSY. (@faithblight) header
ANGEL AUTOPSY. (@faithblight) profile picture

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

mdni / vertigo / oc
Joined August 2025
Photo by ANGEL AUTOPSY. (@faithblight)Photo by ANGEL AUTOPSY. (@faithblight)Photo by ANGEL AUTOPSY. (@faithblight)Photo by ANGEL AUTOPSY. (@faithblight)Photo by ANGEL AUTOPSY. (@faithblight)
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SOMETHING SINISTER. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀COVERED IN PLASTIC ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀AND FILED DOWN TEETH. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀
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. @demidritch gives you a side eye.
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he's always been a gossip, and he wonders if joanne's listening in on the same conversation he is.
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i guess this means you need me to teach ya a lesson.
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ooc. / lrt..... thinking about claude's tendencies to snap out aggressively like a reactive dog.
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more knife than person.. you need to find someone to cut. its so.....
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ANGEL AUTOPSY. retweeted
you're an awful man, more knife than person. you're never satisfied until you've got something to cut.
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⠀‶⠀when ⠀did ⠀you ⠀stop ⠀feeling ⠀𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 .ᐣ⠀ʺ ⠀‶⠀... ⠀any ⠀day ⠀now.⠀ʺ
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you're an awful man, more knife than person. you're never satisfied until you've got something to cut.
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fallen angel in church. you appeared again tonight. sad eyes. fierce, looking hurt. may you find the peace you seek.
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ANGEL AUTOPSY. retweeted
one more winter closer to death.
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i know i'm a mess he don't wanna clean up.
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"oh, real funny. i'm guessin' the punchline's that only one of us's the /proper/ angel." xalus' voice was just as grating, so deep it made his ears twitch— could he be showing off any more? then again, it must be ingrained in divinity to be as pretentious as possible.
wonderful, he thinks, nearly taking the time out of his day to roll his eyes, this is exactly what he needed—another eyesore. his voice is an obnoxious, grating thing that curses his ears, and it only makes the scowl on his face grow more pronounced. “that’s quite rich, +
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so fucking uppity. it makes his nose turn up, scrunched in a scowl that he doesn't bother to hide, dislike ever so clear.
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am i still to blame for that night? / why do my hands still feel like blood?
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the dreams in which i'm dying are the best i've ever had.
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the corruption begins with the mouth, the tongue—— the wanting. the first poem in the world is: "i want to eat."
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