This a murder coven, not a halfway house.

I can only hope my cult has not disbanded.

...I would rather you be over here.

I think I might like to try cuddling, if you’ll indulge me.

The pregnant silence says more than words ever could, and like a child through a field of summer wheat, she rushes toward him and all but leaps into his embrace, arms coiled tightly around his neck. 𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘺.

// i’m sorry, bill and mia??? ♱⛥♱ ℑ 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔚𝔢'𝔯𝔢 𝔇𝔬𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔡

sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ. sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴏɴ ᴜs. sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ sᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʙᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs. India Stoker.

Might be an issue.

That...both delights and unnerves her for a myriad of reasons.

Not 𝘰𝘧 him. 𝗙𝗼𝗿 him.

Everyone is banned from the basement.

𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗴𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁.

It’s not Henry she’s worried about. She trusts him.

“Never” is a powerful word. Everyone slips up now and then. Hopefully he isn’t placing too much pressure on himself.

If I find so much as a displaced cobweb down there, I will rip your decaying heart from your ghoulish corpse and feed it to you.

Fuck around and find out.

// when your character’s type is “dead”

There’s only so much room.

// This account is no longer in use. It will be saved only for archival purposes.