iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 07/08/2025

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.

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 07/08/2025

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.

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 07/08/2025

Hi, I have a Faceclaim now, and the ability to use PSDs again. 🙈

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 07/08/2025

— 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺: 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵. x Writer Known as #Bloody x #MoodyBitch x No Filter - MDNI x Mostly IC - Breaks of OOC Insanity x Triggering Content Likely ~ Follow At Your Own Risk

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Reposted by ♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤

Dovey @depraveddove.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

New event in Tainted Souls starting on September 1st. You have to sign up for this one so we made the announcement now to give time for everyone to sign up. You must be 18+ www.tumblr.com/depraveddove... #discord #harrypotter #fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #writing #multifandom #allfandoms

tumblr.com

Post by @depraveddove · 3 images

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Tainted Souls: Welcome to Hogwarts Fest 2025 · Please note: You must be 18+ to join the server. IT’S TIME TO ANNOUNCE OUR NEXT ANNUAL WRITING EVENT! Welcome to Hogwarts 2025! It…

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

"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.

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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." ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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 ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

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. ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

lips parted as if mid-aria. I remember hearing stories of her voice, how it could hold a room still, how men used to send gardenias backstage with handwritten notes begging for her attention. But no one ever mentioned the letters I find tucked beneath the score. They’re tied ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

tin of loose pearls spill over each other like forgotten memories. My fingers brush over a playbill, its edges curled. “Evangeline Moreau in La Traviata,” the title reads in ornate script. She looks regal in the faded black-and-white photo, her eyes lined in thick kohl, her ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

I open the drawer slowly, half expecting it to creak like something out of a gothic novel. It doesn’t. It glides open on silent runners, smooth and effortless. The contents inside are less tidy. A clutter of yellowed envelopes, brittle sheet music, dried ink pens, and a small ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 06/08/2025

-𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨- 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 📖 "𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭." — 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐫, "𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐍𝐮𝐧"

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 05/08/2025

You guys showed my words such love. 🥹💛

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

I get it, I feel the same coming back to writing, just as everything goes quiet. I need to work on getting more here. But I also need the coffee IV. Hopefully your gig went well!! It's always lovely to see you. 🩵

media.tenor.com

a cup of coffee is being poured into a bowl on a table .

ALT: a cup of coffee is being poured into a bowl on a table .

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

{Dusts things off.} I need to spruce things up more around here.

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

𝙄 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙚𝙧.

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

Of the lives I didn't live. And of Evangeline, standing beside a grand piano, one gloved hand curled around a glass of absinthe, smiling like she knew things I would never guess. I fit the key into the lock. It clicked softly. I closed my eyes. Then… ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

drawer where I knew the key was taped, just as it always had been. I pulled the yellowed key free. Held it between my fingers. It was absurd, how cold it felt. For a long moment, I just stared at the lock, my breath shallow. I thought of Florence. Of the child I never had. ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

It waited in the corner of the living room: Evangeline's writing desk. Heavy. Mahogany. Carved with delicate roses on the edge. I ran my fingers across the surface, following the grain like a map. Then I knelt, heart steady, and slid my hand into the hollow space beneath the ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

rain had stopped. The city glistening like a secret freshly spilled. By the time I arrived home, the sky was a deep navy, and the apartment smelled like rain-soaked stone. I kicked off my boots, shed my coat, and walked straight to the desk without turning on the light. ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

again, like dust unsettled from a forgotten corner. But maybe not everything hidden should stay hidden. Maybe layers weren't meant to protect. They were meant to be peeled back. I closed my notebook gently, the soft click of the cover echoing louder than expected. Outside, the ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

opened it. Not out of fear, not exactly. But reverence. Or maybe denial. What if the mystery inside was more beautiful than the truth? I had told myself I wasn't ready. That I needed to find my own footing first. That unlocking it would mean inviting grief into the room ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

carried a presence that didn't need to. And when she died, quietly, in her sleep, as dramatically understated as she lived, she left behind the house and its ghosts. The towering shelves of poetry. The long velvet-like drapes. The locked desk drawer. The drawer. I never ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

that I had grown up inside of rather than beside. I remember being a child in the brownstone, trailing after my aunt's perfume, watching her pluck records from the shelf like secrets. Evangeline had been light and shadow, opera and silence. She never raised her voice, but ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

lingered. It sat beside my thoughts like an echo. There are so many pieces of myself tucked away, folded between chapters I hadn’t dared to reopen. And not even just pieces of myself, but pieces of Evangeline too. My great-aunt had always been a myth wrapped in silk, an enigma ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

“𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥.” I stared at it, my pen balanced between my fingers, its weight suddenly heavier than it had been a moment ago. The ink shimmered slightly in the soft library light, like it knew something I didn’t. Layered. That word ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

avenue, splashing through puddles. Someone laughed under a yellow umbrella. Somewhere, a child was crying. Life moved on, no matter what. I finally lowered my legs, the wool of my skirt brushing against my boots, and returned my pen to the page. All I wrote was: ~

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♤ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 ♤ @lavendercharade.bsky.social · 03/08/2025

finished forming. The truth is: I don't regret where I am. But there were nights, and afternoons like this, where the ache of unlived lives rose up and sat beside me, quietly, like old friends. I looked down at the street again. A man in a dark coat darted across the ~

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