♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤
@lavendercharade.bsky.social
𝙄 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. ✦ A vexing little thing known as Harley Fairchild. — #𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 — 21+
The Chaotic Portion of: #BloodyRapture #BloodyNocturne #BloodyDove
| Partially Just a Writer Account |
The Chaotic Portion of: #BloodyRapture #BloodyNocturne #BloodyDove
| Partially Just a Writer Account |
The Monday before last he did the tree of death. And the two prior were Tarot and their connection with the Tree of Life. Basically, quick ways to interpret Tarot readings.
I love Catwoman. I've got so many OCs. Tomorrow I'm going to try to throw myself into the writing pool here. Ha.
I love Catwoman. I've got so many OCs. Tomorrow I'm going to try to throw myself into the writing pool here. Ha.
August 7, 2025 at 2:12 AM
The Monday before last he did the tree of death. And the two prior were Tarot and their connection with the Tree of Life. Basically, quick ways to interpret Tarot readings.
I love Catwoman. I've got so many OCs. Tomorrow I'm going to try to throw myself into the writing pool here. Ha.
I love Catwoman. I've got so many OCs. Tomorrow I'm going to try to throw myself into the writing pool here. Ha.
Eee! I love that someone else watches! I get so excited for the Monday night lives.
And slowly picking up. I need to bring a couple faces over. I noticed DC Verse is very active here. Me and my Comic Nerd heart love it.
And slowly picking up. I need to bring a couple faces over. I noticed DC Verse is very active here. Me and my Comic Nerd heart love it.
August 7, 2025 at 1:51 AM
Eee! I love that someone else watches! I get so excited for the Monday night lives.
And slowly picking up. I need to bring a couple faces over. I noticed DC Verse is very active here. Me and my Comic Nerd heart love it.
And slowly picking up. I need to bring a couple faces over. I noticed DC Verse is very active here. Me and my Comic Nerd heart love it.
August 7, 2025 at 1:19 AM
-𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨-
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 📖
"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭." — 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐫, "𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐍𝐮𝐧"
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 📖
"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭." — 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐫, "𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐍𝐮𝐧"
August 6, 2025 at 1:33 AM
"And I'm starting to regret it." I breathe out nervously, stepping through the door. The wind catches my breath as we step into the night, and for a moment, I don’t feel like the girl I used to be at all.
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
"And I'm starting to regret it." I breathe out nervously, stepping through the door. The wind catches my breath as we step into the night, and for a moment, I don’t feel like the girl I used to be at all.
dare you to do one thing that makes your heart race. Say hi to a stranger. Get a tattoo. Steal a matchbook. Just… do something you’ll remember."
"And a matchbook will accomplish that?" I teased, before stepping through the door.
"You asked for my help, Harley." ~
"And a matchbook will accomplish that?" I teased, before stepping through the door.
"You asked for my help, Harley." ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
dare you to do one thing that makes your heart race. Say hi to a stranger. Get a tattoo. Steal a matchbook. Just… do something you’ll remember."
"And a matchbook will accomplish that?" I teased, before stepping through the door.
"You asked for my help, Harley." ~
"And a matchbook will accomplish that?" I teased, before stepping through the door.
"You asked for my help, Harley." ~
shirt down slightly. "You know, when I said I wanted to try something new... I meant like- Macrame or skating... Not upending my whole wardrobe."
"Oh, I know." He follows me down the stairs with a laugh and just before we reach the door, he leans in and whispers, "Tonight, I ~
"Oh, I know." He follows me down the stairs with a laugh and just before we reach the door, he leans in and whispers, "Tonight, I ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
shirt down slightly. "You know, when I said I wanted to try something new... I meant like- Macrame or skating... Not upending my whole wardrobe."
"Oh, I know." He follows me down the stairs with a laugh and just before we reach the door, he leans in and whispers, "Tonight, I ~
"Oh, I know." He follows me down the stairs with a laugh and just before we reach the door, he leans in and whispers, "Tonight, I ~
that aloud.
"You ready?" he calls up.
"Almost!"
My cousin appears in the doorway with a smirk. He eyes me, tilts his head, and grins like he knows a secret.
"You look almost cool," he teases, "Now let’s see if you can act like it."
I roll my eyes, tugging the hem of my ~
"You ready?" he calls up.
"Almost!"
My cousin appears in the doorway with a smirk. He eyes me, tilts his head, and grins like he knows a secret.
"You look almost cool," he teases, "Now let’s see if you can act like it."
I roll my eyes, tugging the hem of my ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
that aloud.
"You ready?" he calls up.
"Almost!"
My cousin appears in the doorway with a smirk. He eyes me, tilts his head, and grins like he knows a secret.
"You look almost cool," he teases, "Now let’s see if you can act like it."
I roll my eyes, tugging the hem of my ~
"You ready?" he calls up.
"Almost!"
My cousin appears in the doorway with a smirk. He eyes me, tilts his head, and grins like he knows a secret.
"You look almost cool," he teases, "Now let’s see if you can act like it."
I roll my eyes, tugging the hem of my ~
jacket, dark jeans, boots that click when I walk. Nothing vintage. Nothing soft.
Julian is downstairs already, thumbing through a photography book he bought on impulse and hasn’t read. He’s always on time, always a little too impatient. It makes me nervous, and I don’t say ~
Julian is downstairs already, thumbing through a photography book he bought on impulse and hasn’t read. He’s always on time, always a little too impatient. It makes me nervous, and I don’t say ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
jacket, dark jeans, boots that click when I walk. Nothing vintage. Nothing soft.
Julian is downstairs already, thumbing through a photography book he bought on impulse and hasn’t read. He’s always on time, always a little too impatient. It makes me nervous, and I don’t say ~
Julian is downstairs already, thumbing through a photography book he bought on impulse and hasn’t read. He’s always on time, always a little too impatient. It makes me nervous, and I don’t say ~
since faded. But enough to nag. The chill of evening slips through the half-cracked window as I lean over the vanity, sweeping a final touch of gloss across my lips, nothing too bold, but glossier than I’d normally dare. My reflection looks almost like someone else: cropped ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
since faded. But enough to nag. The chill of evening slips through the half-cracked window as I lean over the vanity, sweeping a final touch of gloss across my lips, nothing too bold, but glossier than I’d normally dare. My reflection looks almost like someone else: cropped ~
the letters back into the drawer, shove it shut, and step away from the desk like it’s caught fire. My pulse is hammering.
“I’m in here,” I call out, forcing calm into my voice.
The secret will have to wait.
Now, the memory of that name lingers, but only as a note in a song ~
“I’m in here,” I call out, forcing calm into my voice.
The secret will have to wait.
Now, the memory of that name lingers, but only as a note in a song ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
the letters back into the drawer, shove it shut, and step away from the desk like it’s caught fire. My pulse is hammering.
“I’m in here,” I call out, forcing calm into my voice.
The secret will have to wait.
Now, the memory of that name lingers, but only as a note in a song ~
“I’m in here,” I call out, forcing calm into my voice.
The secret will have to wait.
Now, the memory of that name lingers, but only as a note in a song ~
as I reach for the last envelope, sealed in wax. Just as I start to crack it open, I hear the front door shut. Heavy footsteps follow.
“Hello?” a voice calls out.
I freeze. It’s my cousin Julian. He wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour... No, now. Dammit.
I shove ~
“Hello?” a voice calls out.
I freeze. It’s my cousin Julian. He wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour... No, now. Dammit.
I shove ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
as I reach for the last envelope, sealed in wax. Just as I start to crack it open, I hear the front door shut. Heavy footsteps follow.
“Hello?” a voice calls out.
I freeze. It’s my cousin Julian. He wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour... No, now. Dammit.
I shove ~
“Hello?” a voice calls out.
I freeze. It’s my cousin Julian. He wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour... No, now. Dammit.
I shove ~
pages trembling slightly in my hands. There’s mention of a safe deposit box in Naples. A map fragment. The name “Giordano” circled twice in red. None of this was fitting with the image I held of the woman who lived well beyond expectancy. Who raised me...
My breath catches ~
My breath catches ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
pages trembling slightly in my hands. There’s mention of a safe deposit box in Naples. A map fragment. The name “Giordano” circled twice in red. None of this was fitting with the image I held of the woman who lived well beyond expectancy. Who raised me...
My breath catches ~
My breath catches ~
the pit of my stomach. This doesn’t feel like a past fling. It feels like danger cloaked in glamour.
There’s a note scribbled on the back of the photo in her handwriting: 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘰.
The air feels heavier. I sift through the rest quickly, the ~
There’s a note scribbled on the back of the photo in her handwriting: 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘰.
The air feels heavier. I sift through the rest quickly, the ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
the pit of my stomach. This doesn’t feel like a past fling. It feels like danger cloaked in glamour.
There’s a note scribbled on the back of the photo in her handwriting: 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘰.
The air feels heavier. I sift through the rest quickly, the ~
There’s a note scribbled on the back of the photo in her handwriting: 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘰.
The air feels heavier. I sift through the rest quickly, the ~
man, handsome and sharply dressed, with a small scar above his left eyebrow. The photo is dated 1957. He’s standing beside Evangeline. She’s not smiling. Neither is he. They look like people who have seen too much and promised to never speak of it again.
Something shifts in ~
Something shifts in ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
man, handsome and sharply dressed, with a small scar above his left eyebrow. The photo is dated 1957. He’s standing beside Evangeline. She’s not smiling. Neither is he. They look like people who have seen too much and promised to never speak of it again.
Something shifts in ~
Something shifts in ~
The ink is faded but legible. It isn’t love poetry or a fan’s admiration. It’s a set of numbers. Coordinates maybe. Or code. The next page is in Italian. I recognize words like “famiglia” and “silenzio.” My heart beats faster.
Tucked between the pages is a photograph. It’s a ~
Tucked between the pages is a photograph. It’s a ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
The ink is faded but legible. It isn’t love poetry or a fan’s admiration. It’s a set of numbers. Coordinates maybe. Or code. The next page is in Italian. I recognize words like “famiglia” and “silenzio.” My heart beats faster.
Tucked between the pages is a photograph. It’s a ~
Tucked between the pages is a photograph. It’s a ~
with a black velvet ribbon, stiff with age.
𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥. Scrawled on a note on top.
I untie it carefully and unfold one of the pages. ~
𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥. Scrawled on a note on top.
I untie it carefully and unfold one of the pages. ~
August 6, 2025 at 1:32 AM
with a black velvet ribbon, stiff with age.
𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥. Scrawled on a note on top.
I untie it carefully and unfold one of the pages. ~
𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥. Scrawled on a note on top.
I untie it carefully and unfold one of the pages. ~