β ππππππππ ππππππππππ
@BL00DF0RFAME
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α α α α π¬π’π¨ πͺπππ ππ πππ©π’π¨π₯ππβ! so smile :) α α α ( πͺ¦π ) α
MDNI β± RP ACC β± MV & MS
Joined October 2024
βββ πππ ππππ πππ, π ππππ π
ππ πππ πππππ ππ
ππππ π πππ πππππ πππππ.
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β β β β β β β β β β β It's been a week, β β β β β yet I remember it as if it were β β β β β β β β β β β yesterday. β β β β β β β βββββββ±πβ°ββββββ β β β β β β β β @BL00DF0RFAME β β
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β Isn't that, like, the real test? Finding someone who sticks with you, regardless, and doesnβt think of running away? Sounds like you found a keeper, babe. β
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β βEveryone deserves to hear something true and nice about themselves,β he said, his words gentle. βThat includes you. Why do you think youβre undeserving?β β
a returned smile. almost mirroring. he's not used to compliments or kindness. he likes how it sounds once more. "i don't deserve such praise, but thank you."
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β sins are committed by the living. The dΠ΅Π°d usually donβt have anything to answer to. Theyβre justβ¦ deΠ΅Π°d.β β
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β Philippe already knew. The condition of the bΠΎdΡ was poor, the bIΠΎΠΎd thin and sour, lacking more vital sustenance than an undΠ΅Π°d who hadnβt seen the sun in centuries. βI wouldnβt let it go to waste like that,β he added after a momentβs pause. βBesides, π β
break down. The greens love them, but ahβonly the good lord knows what toxins are in that poor lad. I need not sins of the flesh festering in my food."
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β away from any prying eyes. The police were still on the scene and more were coming in, and the Moulin Rouge was too exposed, too far. For now, all they could do was wait in the shadows. β
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β trying to hurt?β he asked, his voice a tightly controlled calm, though a rattle of emotion betrayed him. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over Ambroseβs shoulders, sheltering him. Appearance was irrelevant; the more pressing matter was to get him to safety, π β
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β When Philippeβs eyes mapped out the damage done to his belovedβs body, fury rose in his throat. He had to force it down and swallow the heat until it turned into a smoldering coal in his chest. Not was not the moment to rage at humanityβs violent whims. βWho was he π β
β "I'm not presentable..." Palm of hand against opposite chest. Murmured, touching own open temples anxiously. Skull still down. β
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β a sip from his cup, his tongue searching for the metallic tang and finding none. βIt doesnβt chip at your new teeth when you feed, but itβs still bloody work. What Iβm trying to ask isβ¦ what exactly fascinates you about π’π ?β β
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β βDepends, really.β There was still time before the ritualβs true gravity took hold. The newcomers were still entertained, in good spiritsβ¦ but for how long? βIf I mayβ¦ you donβt look like someone whoβd seek this out for herself. Itβs a cruel gift.β He took π β
+ taking another sip , she chuckled . βonce in a lifetime , thatβs for sure . though . . . i do think i am lucky , as foolish as that may be .β
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β β Ambrose enjoying his time in the cabaret , as if he hadn't committed the worst murder possible in centuries. And hid the body in the underground tunnels catacomb just below the dance floor. β β
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β the water's finally cold enough to snap me out of the hunt; β
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π· πππππππππ THE COUNTESS β Gα΄α΄
α΄
α΄ssα΄s α΄
α΄Ι΄βα΄ sα΄α΄α΄α΄ ΙͺΙ΄ α΄‘ΚΙͺsα΄α΄Κs, α΄Κα΄Κ sα΄Κα΄α΄α΄. β # ππππππ # πππ
π ππ+
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βAre the fangs what make it look like I did it?β Philippeβs hand flew to his chest in faux offence. βBut I agree: the roses won't appreciate their new fertilizer. Even dried and its bΠΎnΠ΅s ground, the essence is all wrong. Iβd recommend it for fruit trees, ΠΎr a tomato garden.β
A pause. "...Then who, pray tell, did? I am not a grave keeper! The garden rather detests the taste of human flesh and I do not desire to hear the roses complain of their new fertilizer."
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β his husbandβs and pulled him back into the deeper dark. βWhy?β β
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β βHonest to GΠΎd.β They would handle it from here. And Philippe left, until he rounded the first corner. There, he found Ambrose pressed against the brick wall, peering from the alley. Casually turning the corner, he hooked an arm through π β
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