[edentemptress]

              BENEATH THE CUT IS ALL THOSE I CURRENTLY owe starters on Jasmine. I’m currently answering replies before moving onto starting these. If you’d also like a starter, feel free to like this post to be added.

SUBJECTWYK DAMAMORTALE  BLOODYFOAM SANCTAMATER THISMACHINEINMOTION 

[crixass-deactivated20180524]

Bioshock Aesthetics - Jasmine Jolene A star, mama! Mr. Ryan said he’s going to make me a star!

[omnisexualhanniballecter]

Gillian Anderson by Brooke Palmer for Hannibal Season 3

[inherentlywrong]

[edentemptress]

* 🍎@securxs​ . )

                “THE OWNER OF SECURIS, YES?” Oh, she knows him. Of course she does. That name sits on every revolving door in the city, etched into steel. The man’s empire is the walkway for all types of life: young, old, poor and rich alike. Andrew has told her all about these men who came to his city, the ones he forged contacts with. The ELITE. She knows their names, knows their trades, spoken to her among languid kisses and a breath heavy with cigar smoke and whisky. His mother was the investor, she knows that much --- but she knows Dubois for other reasons, too.

              Jolene pats the fur-trim of red coat with gloved hands as she comes to a halt beside the man’s table. He’s young, she can’t help but note. Young, and very handsome, features slightly pointed and well defined. Beautiful blue eyes. He could easily have any woman his heart desired, and if word carries right, he’s quite the charmer. But his words & thick accent will not work on her. Jasmine has strolled within a garden unfamiliar to her, in search of what she hopes is not a snake clad in the flesh of man. Rapture’s tea gardens are expensive nowadays, but it is Ryan’s money she uses to access the beauty of Arcadia. She extends a leather-clad hand in offering.

                “Miss Jolene. I’ve heard so much about you, Mr Dubois. It’s a pleasure.”

[edentemptress]

* 🍎 @archerwhiterp . )

                WHEN HER VISION LOCKS ON HIS FEATURES, in her head, she flips a metaphorical coin. Archer White’s face is one she’s come to associate alongside the image of the love of her life, ANDREW RYAN, for the position he holds in Hephaestus means he works very closely with her beloved, as his personal assistant. It’s not uncommon for him to bring her word from the desk of the city’s founder himself, but the news can be mixed. Sometimes, he may bring her word of much joy. Others, there is a bitter, bad taste on the tongue. Jasmine thinks it slightly unfair Andrew should put the poor man in such a position, but suspects it is the quickest way to inform her. Quicker, and perhaps slightly more gentle than a brief telephone call. Regardless of the outcome, Jolene welcomes his presence at her doorstep this evening, makes to hold the door to her apartment open a fraction wider, to invite him inside without verbally declaring it so. The velvet smile at her lips is a little forced.

                “Andrew working late again?” It’s come to be expected, she thinks; she can usually guess why he’s sent Archer to her doorstep, unable to pull himself away from the depths of his duty. It’s not easy running a city, mind. Jasmine does not berate him for it. His goal is to be successful, and sometimes, duty comes before pleasure. She understands. It can be... disappointing, some nights, but she knows that where his absence is noted, where he is not bound beneath silk bed sheets with her, there will surely be a fine dinner & sweet scented flowers in their place once he is able and his work complete. “I’m guessing that’s why he’s sent you. Please, come in. Can I offer you something to drink, darling?” It’s so casual, how it leaves her throat --- almost like this is a dance routine, something she’s glided through so many times before. She has her suspicions, could very well be jumping the gun --- but it is better to think the worst, Jasmine thinks, then expect too much.

[edentemptress]

* 🍎 @desxderium . )

                 THE LOOK SHE GIVES HIM IS STEEL. Invisible daggers spear through his husk, his body, not a drop of blood spilled upon wooden floor, but the metaphorical wine of his ego drips from the look he gives in retaliation, lips trembling. She is an IMPALER with just her eyes, needing no weapon or word to encourage this overly pushy youth to back off, armed only with the slight narrowing of blue irises and curl of scarlet pout: enough to have the young man stepping backward in haste, stumbled apology slipping from his lips. Jasmine holds power here now, and she knows it. Is not afraid to use it. Not afraid to remind people of who she is, who she’s fucking. They can all whisper whatever they like behind her back, the truth of it is she’s done nothing no other woman hasn’t done for her man, she just has the diamonds and the glory that goes with being involved with an high up, wealthy, influential member of society, and they don’t. So she apparently stole him, plucked him from another blonde’s hands --- unfortunately, there are winners and losers when it comes to power, but at this precise moment she almost has everything she’s ever wanted, for he’s practically the king of this city, after-all, and that makes her a future queen, once a rock sits nice upon slim ring finger.

                Just one look has that tall, lanky, overenthusiastic John backing off to whatever blackened corner of this establishment he’d crawled from. Perhaps it’s her height that adds to the effect --- she stands at an impressive SIX FOOT, towers above all other dancers. Amazonian goddess clad in red, platinum curls perfectly coiffed. Marble she may be in the eyes of a man that cannot take NO FOR NO, but plump lips soon lift in wide smile, features softening as her vision is drawn back to the young, pretty, yellow-clad female that had ensnared his unwanted attention.

                “Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’m not sure if you needed a hand, but I saw him giving you trouble and I decided to step in. I hope you’re alright.” She looks out of place here, Jolene can’t help but think. Not scantily dressed enough to be a dancer --- she’s dressed in a spotted yellow frock, not pearls or crystals or fine strings of jewelry. She could be a patron, but most folks are little more dressed-up if they’re interested in the undivided attention of one of the Garden’s best. Jasmine makes to gently rest red-painted fingers upon Rebecca’s arm, the touch tender, light. “Perhaps now I’m putting my nose where it’s not wanted, but you look a little lost. Anything I can help you with? Are you looking for someone?” She looks like a fresh water guppy swimming in a tank full of sharks, and God, does Jasmine know what that feels like.

[sungl0ry]

Bedelia Du Maurier + alcoholism

[edentemptress]

‘  ----------- so what are you gonna say at my funeral, now that you've killed me? here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead. rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted.’

[screeencap]

[laularlau8]

(x)

[ladiescaps]

[stellagbson]

[edentemptress]

            LIKE THIS FOR A STARTER!! Message me to plot or you can ask for my skype!!

[stellagbson]

[headeyyarchive]

[headeyyarchive]

what is it worth to be known as the man who caught hannibal lecter?