—𝓑𝑨𝑩𝒀 .ᐟ

⠀ ⠀𝑰’𝑴 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝓢𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 .ᐟ ⠀

Imagine havin’ to pay for your own drinks at the bar. Couldn’t be me.

— be stupid enough to fall in love with her tonight.

— pink rhinestone purse off the vanity, tucks her knife into her thigh holster, and spritzes herself one final time with sweet vanilla cherry perfume. And she’s practically skipping down the stairs, her mane bouncing wildly around her shoulders, already excited to see who’d —

She sits preening herself in front of her vanity mirror, spotted with age and cigarette smoke, the warped glass reflecting the dim light in such a way that gives Baby an even dreamier, more ethereal glow than she exuded on her own. And she likes it that way. Everybody looks —

mama used to give me fairy dust before pageants to make me fly. and god damn, i soared.

// the bakers 🤝 the fireflys

say that you love me.

Shotgunning a Coors at nine am.

Cravin’ fried chicken somethin’ fierce.

penned by maverick.⠀ they/them. © 1994. CST / CDT.

vera-ellen wilson / baby firefly, 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 1000 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙨𝙚𝙨. crafted for the dbd/general horror verse. mature content. mdni. warnings: violence, gore, sexual content, substance use, cannibalism, general unsavory themes.

⠀ ⠀𝑰’𝑴 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝓢𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 .ᐟ ⠀