#dollsbride

    "I quite agree." Larissa pulls the book back across her desk.

    It isn't uncommon for private citizens to apply to view a holding from Nevermore's library; there's no other depository of supernatural information quite like it in this part of the country. But this particular book--like a few others most-often requested by outsiders--is not one Larissa casually distributes for the pleasure of light reading.

    "I hope you can understand," Larissa says, and smiles benignly. "Anyone requesting certain of our more... Esoteric documents must undergo a degree of scrutiny from the administration. It's important for us to understand how you'll utilize these valuable works. And Unaussprechlichen Kulten is quite highly-requested, which requires us to examine all requests, and requesters, with care..."

𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚅𝙰𝙻𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙴, 𝚃𝙸𝙵𝙵𝙰𝙽𝚈 : ❝ 𝙷𝙸, 𝙱𝙰𝙱𝚈. ❞

𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅-𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑, blinking once. twice. considering first that maybe she was an illusion of half-drunken stupor; even going so far as peering incredulously down into what remains of the now room-temperature piss this joint calls beer, despite that you distinctly recall popping the cap yourself! ──── hearing the sound of trapped hair hissing it's great escape, watching the silver of frost rise and then disappear. tossing the cap to the bartender.

couldn't be drugs, but it could still just be a trick of your imagination... right?

with a soft sigh through your nose, the very notion of a pickled mirage with a mess of blonde locks is laid to rest as @dollsbride opens her seraphic mouth and speaks in a tone like antler velvet. it's purely habitual that you succumb indulgently to the overwhelm of your senses: the saccharine sweet bouquet of her perfume, ( tooth-rotting, ) ( but addictive ) [ ... ] the feeling of her voice as it slips through your ears.

HI, BABY. she says, like not a day has passed between now and .. well, back then.

vi reclines into her lonely booth and spreads her knees beneath the table, allowing hungry eyes to sweep tiffany's form from head-to-heels. then she smirks, and brings the bottle of swill back to her mouth like a damn lifeline. intuition tells her she's gonna fuckin' need it.

❛ ────hey, t. been a long time since i saw that face .. to what do i owe the pleasure? ❜

She traced the lines on Tiffany's palm with interest, never having realised before how many lines a human's hand had. When interested Missy the most, however, was the little cut on the side of her hand--not too recent but within the last couple weeks.

"Someone has been having fun without me lately~" Missy teased, closing her hand and leaving a lipstick kiss on Tiffany's knuckles. "Now you have to tell me alllll the details on what I missed."

INBOX PROMPTS ╱ 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.

He can hardly stop himself from bleeding all over the place. Will presses the wound of his hand into a tight ball of his shirt to keep himself from dripping anymore. It was already going to be hell cleaning it all up, no evidence to be pointed back at him and hers, of course. He doesn’t bother to acknowledge the elephant in the room: the now lifeless body lay limp in the corner.