#love me leesh

[carolmunson]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[silly4goose20]

beetlejuice more like uhhhhhhhhh beetlefruit

THIS GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO EXPLAIN MYSELF.

okay so.

LORE + ART BELOW THE CUT

Beetlejuice haunts Gatsby's attic, waiting for someone to find his silly little paper. One day, as Cindy and Raven [Cindy is a pink scene aussie-greek succubus, Raven is a german goth vampire stoner who writes arotica. I love them as a ship] are searching the attic for records on Raven's immigration, Cindy comes across that sacred paper. Of course being Cindy, she laughs at it.

"Aye, Raven, Look at this er picture."

"What is it with you and finding random things that are haunted?"

"Don't be like that, baby. I'm gonna do it, I doubt anything will happen..."

In usual Cindy fashion, she was VERY wrong.

And out popped Beetlejuice! Cindy was astonished, losing her mind that she had just summoned a fellow demon right to her. Raven? Raven was fucking horrified.

"uh, Cindy, say his name again, three more times-"

"Wh- oh shit."

"Hi, Laurence."

"You're still alive? I swore you died right after we broke up...."

"BROKE UP?!"

yep. Bet you didn't expect that curve ball. Raven and Beetlejuice are ✨EXES✨...because he has a thing for goth bitches.

Obviously, Raven leaves the attic and thats when Gatsby becomes aware of the new presence [being a stand in God will do that..] . Beetlejuice scares the living hell out of Gatsby, making the poor blonde fire his pistol into the floor. Otto wasn't too happy about that. However, once Beetlejuice profusely apologized, Gatsby took a liking to the strange demon.

Now? Beetlejuice looks different. He was given a role as a Don of the neitherworld branch of the Clef-Gatsby-Carraway Mafia. Beetlejuice also serves the purpose of a distraction in times of need.

Gatsby has a leesh on him though, not allowing Beetlejuice to kill or harm any one. This is because I fully believe the more he kills, the more powerful he gets. He simply acts as a distraction, either chasing the enemies away or harrassing them to allow the other members to escape. Obviously since he works directly with the platoons, he got to know the platoon leaders pretty well.

Beetlejuice especially got along with a certain musical loving prisoner...

And to explain The Host and Yancy? Idk. Writer and a music composer? Perfect combo. I'm pretty sure The Host told the tale of how they met.

Beetlejuice got really close with the stealth platoon leader, eventually joining his public theater club. Yancy and Beetlejuice bonded over their love for music and performance, running their own musicals with kids from the local orphanages 🥹.

Look guys, he's still an a$$hole, don't get me wrong..but I have to give Beetlejuice a few good traits!

Here he is!!!! He gained his demon horns/double tails from Chronos as a blessing to him. Oh, and the Sandworm around his neck is a trained service animal named Sandy 🥹 [he's got PTSD leave him alone gang....].

NOW HERES SOME OF MY HEAD CANONS FOR BEETLEJUICE

- Hypersexual. Literally look at 90% of his dialogue across ALL his sources. He's literally known for being overly sexual and scandalous.

- Dyslexia. Literally expresses he can't spell in "The Whole Being Dead Thing".

- "I do this bullshit like 8 times a week." Is literally how he feels when he is summoned forth for a mission.

His mechanic in the mafia;

Beetlejuice signed onto the Mafia after being summoned by Cindy. Of course she was literally just shit posting, having found the paper within Gatsby's attic.

Thus, Gatsby is now plague with this annoying fucking demon...which drives him up the wall. Sure, Alto is his husband and best friend, but Beetlejuice is literally just a copy paste of Clef in a more skrunkly body.

Anyways, he can be summoned forth with his chant. Bring him forward and he will chase what he presumes is a threat. He cannot kill, as per Gatsby's rules, but he is a distraction until on foot fleets or flying fleets can arrive. He's very dedicated to his job, and some even say he enjoys it. He denies it fully, even though he has his own branch of the mafia in the neitherworld and has free range of the living world now.

BJ truly fears abandonment. The BPD is strong with this one y'all 😒. He clings to anyone he can get close to, and it isn't just in a sexual sense..though it is rumored him and a certain pink succubus get it on when no one is paying attention.

- Pansexual lmao, all the way through. He truly has no preference sexually but is inclined to flirt romantically with women more.

A sucker for sour candy. He will devour whole bags in one sitting and Gatsby finds it kind of scary

Him and Gatsby are interesting. Gatsby doesn't like to acknowledge BJ, choosing to just let the ghost wander behind him. No one knows how Beetlejuice even got his paper into the huge CGC Manor, but he did. Some speculate that there's something more going on, but no one knows for sure as Beetlejuice just alludes the public and Gatsby hasnt been seen by the public since his near assassination back in June.

Beetlejuice loves music in all aspects. He spends a lot of time with Yancy when he isn't bothering Jay. They write and sing and occasionally can be found in the auditorium preforming [of course with Host as witness]

In his own words about 10 minutes ago: "everyone things I love Halloween and hate Christmas, but honestly? I love Christmas. I love having an excuse to be cheery as I don't have that often." He then backpeddled....but we know he wasn't lying.

Chronic stoner sorry not sorry. Once Cindy got him on the zaza he couldnt resist 😔

Dude has range. He can go all the way up to screeching notes while also singing really low. We think it's because he uses magic to adapt his voice but we'll never know [he has his Alex Brightman voice :3]

Secret keeper. Not just his own secrets, but some think Yancy has disclosed his past to Bj....which the only other person who knows is Host

REFUSES TO SCARE CHILDREN..or atleast we think? Cindy thinks it's cause Gatsby told him not to but neither will tell

Ough, if there's a character I'm afraid to canonize in my universe it's gotta be B.J., especially since he's such a great character already [and he's got a lot of die hard fans]. I hope his lore is accurate and that it makes sense. Yes ...the events of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice happened before he was summoned by Cindy [They truly don't know if he's even from their own universe.].

Sorry for the yap fest.....

[guccifloralsuits]

Thank you to @hrina for tagging me to make a tree & decorate hers!!! I love this idea it’s so cute omg, if you create a tree pleaseeee tag me would love to leave a cute lil message 4 you!!! ♥️🎉

I tag: @orrangepoem @farmlesbians @thecynical-idealist @thedreamthieves @harryfeatgaga @leesh @yellowvinyl @nationalharryleague @trulymadlysydney @ddelicatemp3 @dancefloors @a-g-u-s-tea-d @ibxrmeith @evilrry @obiwan @shegoeshometoacactuss @azurecanary @doyouknowhoyouare @sophism @dorothygale @witchrry + anyone who wants to!!

[malboraslihan]

serendipity. the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

mobile vers.

trigger warnings and disclaimer: the verse will mostly surround the death of a close friend as well as many triggering themes such as depression, illness and such. please beware of that before applying/reading the plot.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 

           july 2016 marks the graduation of claudia madeira and her friends. the group of teenagers was known around the small town of harbor springs for their constant loud celebrations, rebellious ideas and even more, for having dreams that became too big for the city limits. it was a known fact, by their parents and anyone who could hear them daydreaming at the coffee shop, that they would leave town eventually. or at the very least, they would try to. so when the time came, the night after graduation, they followed their own paths and promised to never forget the memories they created in that small magical town from connecticut. 

            seven years later, things haven’t been good, for anyone. those who left, somehow ended up sucked back into town; by a relative who became ill, after losing their perfect job one day, after a break up completely broke them down.. the reasons are endless. and, of course, there are always those who never managed to escape, whose dreams were tucked into under their bed and plans stayed as just that, plans. 

            mrs. dolevan said it best, the town shifted the day the last one of them stepped foot into town. something was in the air, things weren’t working as well as they once did anymore. the town had grown old, there was no big group of teenagers running around and celebrating the life they were about to have. most kids had ended up finishing high school in the neighboring town, which made their parents move down there eventually. harbor springs was now a ghost town. with only the memories and echoes, family they left behind and childhood rooms that still held pictures of people they haven’t seen in years. 

            and claudia, of course. holding the promise she made to never leave harbor springs, and hiding the truth of her autoimmune disease from her best friends as they toasted to the last night together. she held the fort and kept their memory alive. and then, she saw each and every single one of them crawl back into town. 

              the doctors said it was bound to happen any day, the gossipers said she couldn’t handle another day of living with the fact they had all failed.

summary: a skeleton discord group verse based on the life of teenagers that were born in a very small town called harbor springs and grew up close experiencing traumatic things together but promised to get out of town (or at least try) once they graduated high school. seven years later, they’re all back to town for different reasons and one week after the last one of them arrives, claudia madeira, class president and their valedictorian, passes away from unknown reasons, causing them all to sit in a room together for her funeral. check out the pinterest board.

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

1. your usual rp etiquette: no god modding, try to interact and plot with everyone. please, no ooc drama and if there’s any issues contact me or leesh privately so we can handle it directly.

2. muns and fcs must be over 21, the age range for muses is 25-27. no problematic fcs, the usual banned: no dead fcs, minors, people who have stated before they don’t want to be used in rps, all that jazz. i also reserve the right to deny any fc that makes me or anyone else uncomfortable.

3. please don’t join if you’re not planning on being active. i understand school, college, work and all that can get in the way and that this is only a hobby but in order for a group to work people must be present at least once or twice in the day or a few hours a week.

4. this won’t be first come first serve, each mun can apply for ONE MUSE. i know there’s no way i can know for sure so this is basically based on trust and a suggestion but i’d love if we could bring new/undeveloped muses to the verse. the plot is heavy on development and in character building to i feel muses that haven’t been completely fleshed yet would benefit more from this setting. 

𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐒

the allegiant.  the black sheep. considered the disgrace of a family or group. the insurgent. rebels, stirs up conflict, goes against the norms. the facade. someone who hides behind a mask. the connard. the fallen angel. someone who fell from a high point in their life. the lothario. / the vixen. the luminary. the leader the icarian. spontaneous and adventurous; a free spirit. the pristine. pure, innocent, unspoiled, uncorrupted.

(you can find inspo posts for each label on the pinterest board.)

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

if they left town: ( faceclaim, age, gender, pronouns ) can you honestly believe FIRST LAST NAME is back in town? they’re probably around AGE IN LETTERS now and i think they became a OCCUPATION. god, it was only a few years ago they were screaming about how they would PLANS ONCE THEY LEFT TOWN, right? i don’t know what changed but i heard some rumors that REASON THEY CAME BACK. either way, we should all be glad we got our local LABEL back on our streets, who knows what they’ll do next. ( alias, url, tmz, age )

if they stayed in town: ( faceclaim, age, gender, pronouns ) can you honestly believe FIRST LAST NAME never left town? they’re probably around AGE IN LETTERS now and i think they became a OCCUPATION. god, it was only a few years ago they were screaming about how they would PLANS ONCE THEY LEFT TOWN, right? i don’t know what changed but i heard some rumors that REASON WHY THEY DIDN’T LEAVE. either way, we should all be glad we got our local LABEL on our streets, who knows what they’ll do next. ( alias, url, tmz, age )

the app can be sent through my submit and while it’s not mandatory, i’d love if you could attach a pinterest board or a small paragraph about your muse or how they relate to their label. nothing fancy, no need to write a full on bio, just a bit more info if possible! 

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍

the allegiant: omar apollo (barbie) the black sheep: steph mandich (adri) the insurgent: nico haraga (amanda) the facade: rish shah (jana) the connard: sophie thatcher (ron) the fallen angel: teresa seco (lina) the vixen: jamilla strand (leesh) the luminary: drew starkey (bee) the icarian: ange jose (marie) the pristine: sabrina carpenter (ivy) 

+ camila morrone (kate) and michael cimino (dj)

[warrioroftheminds]

i am NOT done talking abt marshapple and i NEVER WILL BE

their dynamic could be summarized with the phrase "she loves me like a dog". hear me out!!!!

they've gotten into several fights and disagreements, and have maintained a rivalry through s1 and the beginning of s2, but after they make up in s2 apple becomes attached to marsh severally. she holds marsh so dear to her and follows her around like a pet on a leesh, never leaving her side once they become friends. marsh becomes increasingly uncomfortable w/ this level of attachment, which is not understood by apple. once bow possesses apple to manipulate marsh and abandons their friendship, apple still tries desperately to keep their friendship alive. she doesnt understand why marsh is being so mean, but she doesnt even care because she just loves marsh for being marsh. even after getting thrown out of a window by marshs command, apples still, at least trying, to be close to marsh even after everything. its been so hard to get to a civil point in their relationship, having a long history of hatred, and apple is almost desperate for it to not go back to the way it was.

so when marsh comes back to her at hotel oj and calls for her to come with her, apple accepts immediately. she doesnt fight back she doesnt even consider the idea of denying her request. to run away w marsh is a dream to her. she doesnt know where theyre headed, or if it's safe, we dont even know if marsh apologized, but apple will always come back to her no matter what. she loves her like a dog.

this lack of closure we get on their relationship shows how apple had absolutely no closure abt why marsh treated her like she did, why marsh threw away such long awaited breaking of tension, such a saught after friendship. what was she doing wrong?

but of course, even then, with or without explanation, she came back.

obviously.

[harrisonhead]

not. lookeing forward to. thankgiving 😐. pilgims are so. goddamn. Weirds and stupid and small pox stupid and killersugh also. thankgiving Dinner dfcw will probably. play korn and. nine inch Nails. sorry listen i dont’ care if you are a freaks on a Leesh well. im not i am. tryeing to eat and have calm. healing frequency Manifestation. or meditation music. for my tummy. or i Will have to hear closer. and no i dont want to. Fucks anything like. an animal 😹 i want to eat and take a 4. hour nap. and Drink. peace on earth. and dont get Me. wrong dfcw is my. best friend. in the Universe but. she needs to. relax and relax everyone. let harrisonhead. relax. everyone Please. i love you. the first time. i love you. the last Time yo soy. la princesa. comprende mis white lines cause. im Your. jazz singer and Youre’ my cult. leader. i love You forevers i love You forevers

[zaenight]

chapter 22 of crazy but she's mine

Illiana stared at her picture wall , covered in pictures , ranging from photos of her and Natalia , to her , letty and hope , to pictures of Sally , and pictures of her and Jackie with Ez.

She laughed as she came across the picture where Ez had gotten slapped by a handful of whip cream after he stole one of Jackie's cookies , that was a messy day,Sally didn't seem to mind it , more treats for her.

"All right your shaking the whole house with that laugh kid,what's got you in that giggle fit of yours,your not high are you?" Ez asked raising a brow.

"No estoy drogado papá, solo estoy mirando las fotos." Illiana said snorting , as Ez ruffled her hair.

(Im not high dad , im just looking at the pictures.)

"The laugh shook the whole house , Are you high? , or is it you, are you high?" Jackie said waddling , yes waddling in the room staring at Illiana , before turning around and pointing at Ez , with a brow.

"Nobody's high amor just looking at the pictures." Ez said kissing Jackie's forhead.

"Then I say we should have a family movie night." As Jackie said that her stomach rumbled.

"After we eat!" Jackie said as Sally barked waltzing in with her leesh.

"And we take Sally for a walk." She continued as the three laughed.

--------

Jackie watched as Ez mowed the lawn , sweat dripping down his bare chest.

Illiana bathed Sally in a kiddie pool , also in a bathing suit , the girl covered in soap , more than sally was.

Jackie was in a pair of shorts and a sports bra , lemonade in hand.

Illiana was laughing as Sally splashed soap and water everywhere , Jackie took pictures , and a few of Ez , who smirked when he caught her.

"Drink , I don't want you fainting o n me." Jackie aid holding her straw to Ez who approached her.

Ez rolled his eyes , kissing her forhead , he drank from the straw , he then bent down placing a kiss on her pregnant stomach.

--------

After they all showered they sat down to watch a movie , Sally laid down besides Illiana , while Ez wrapped his arm resting on Jackie who laid on his lap.

As the movie got more intense , A loud , frantic knock sounded on the door.

Jackie got up and looked to Ez , as Illiana groaned falling back asleep as she did , halfway through the movie.

Ez grabbed his gun , as he unlocked the door , The couple couldn't have been more shocked to see Emily.

However She was bloody , slight brusies , but the shaky hands holding a gun got their attention.

Jackie came forward slightly , taking the gun from the girl , Ez and her stared in shock , then glanced at eachother , both wondering what the hell happend.

It was then they noticed the little boy , who was around three to four years old , looking at them.

"Ez can you take Illiana to her bed , while I get our guest cleaned up." Jackie said , not giving Ez a moment to ask what she was doing here.

Ez nodded , giving a glance towards Emily , nothing more,grabbing Illiana , he took her up the steps , Sally following.

--------

Emily got cleaned up , wearing some of Jackie's old clothing that didn't fit her anymore due to the pregnancy.

Luckily Angel had left some clothes that were a bit too big for maverick the last time they visited , perfect for Cristóbal.

Emily stared at the nursery with a glint in her eye , stared at the picture of Jackie , hand in hand with Ez and illiana , Sally sitting in front , the club standing behind them with various faces and poses.

She wondered what would have happened if she kept Ez's child , they would have been around eleven now , would he or she have looked like him , or would the child have looked like her.

Would Ez have still joined the club or have gotten a normal job , would they have gotten married?

Her thoughts went away as Jackie entered the room , She may have been his first love and high school sweetheart , but this woman , Jackie vincent , was the one who stole his heart.

-------

As Ez entered their shared bedroom , He noticed Jackie and Emily talking.

"Finally what took you so long!" Jackie exclaimed quietly.

"Your daughter has the grip of bear mixed with a koala , wouldn't let go." Ez said raising a brow as Jackie laughed , He sat on the bed besides his girl.

"So what happend?" Ez asked sternly as Emily's face darkened.

"... I killed them , Miguel Galindo and his bodyguard Luis , I took the gun , and I pulled the trigger." Emily thomas said.

"Fuck , and you came here for the mayans to pick up your mess or what? , I get killing Miguel but what did luis do?" Ez said getting up running a hand through his hair.

Jackie calmed him down as She rubbed his shoulder , sitting him back down.

"Because Miguel ordered Luis to kill my sister , to get my son back , resulting in getting me back , but I got him before he got me." Emily said.

"What does that mean?" Jackie said.

"The day after we left the scrap yard , I heard them talking , they were going to shoot up the Mc , at the next meeting with the Sons and Mayans , they knew your a bridge between the two , so you would most likely have been there." Emily said as Ez clenched his Jaw.

Ez kissed Jackie's forhead , making a call to the club , telling them to come over , that he couldn't speak over the phone.

--------

The club drove an unmarked car to the Galindo home , nobody in sight , apparently everyone was on break for the night , entering the home , they kept their faces covered , all black oufits , no kuttes.

Seeing the two bloody bodies , laying there , Miguel had his eyes wide open , head to the side , hand over his stomach , while luis had a face of shock , he however had his brains blown out.

they wrapped the bodies up , cleaning the blood , The club searched around the house for anything they missed.

The Reyes brothers discovered his study , not realizing what they were about to find , was gonna shed some light on a much darker truth.

"What the hell is this doing here?" Angel asked Ez , holding a picture of The two along with felipe.

After reading a few letters , Ez read one in particular , when Angel saw a vase being thrown at the wall , he knew whatever was found couldn't have been good.

"What the hell bro?" Angel said as Ez gave him the letter.

"Nosotros y él, hermanos, ignacio cortina tuvo un hijo con Dita antes de conocer a mamá, le dijo Dita antes de morir." Ez said clenching his Jaw.

(Us and him , brothers , ignacio cortina had a kid with Dita before meeting mom , Dita told him before she died.)

"Mierda." Angel said reading the letter , Their Father had explaining to do.

[adoremp3]

Hi Leesh, I just want you to know I’d be really sad to see you and your writing go (honestly I’m still kinda heartbroken baby love is gone). However, it obviously is your choice and if you feel like that’s what you want, o can’t fault you. Even though I do always wish you’d post more of your writing (what about love me tinder? Is it happening? Because I am excited). But mostly I just want you to be happy. Hope you’re doing alright 💛

thanks for your support bestie! i’ll be honest, i don’t know if i could delete my writing because i know there ARE still some people out there who enjoy it, but i’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my place in the community and what i’m offering etc lately and i’m not sure where or if i fit in anymore.

i’ve felt for a long time now that my time here has come to an end, but then i’ll randomly find inspiration again and remember why i love writing so much. i’ve been working on original stories a whole lot more, but there’s still something about harry fic that keeps dragging me back in! i mean, i’m not over harry himself or anything lol i did travel to the uk to see him at wembley this year. BUT i’ve also backed away from random a lot and it’s honestly interesting to see things from the outside perspective.

love me tinder might just end up being an open ended oneshot at this rate, which there is absolutely nothing wrong with obvs, but maybe if i ever end up feeling inspired again i may continue! i’m super focused on some original characters and their story atm, and i would absolutely love to introduce you all to them!!! but harry fic….. the mood comes and goes. i’ve been in the community for over 10 years at this point and it’s been….. a wild ride, that’s for sure lol

[sirensisterhood]

Im making a new siren fanfic called siren fights based featuring the first six sirens going agasint each other in different scenarios its also a what they fight like characters from anime or superhero shows amd movies like dbz or cassren sins

Preview:

<p>Steele tooses troy off a roof after handling him,she smirked at tyreen who was mildly impressed."Now,let true sirens fight."steele said.</p>

<p>"The baroness on the atlas,you the one who opend the destroyer a long time ago,now your just hold rhys's leesh."tyreen said with a her smile on her face.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>"Commandant steele considers herslef ture leader of atlas,should thank you,good excuse to let puny rhys lose face."steele said holding troy's robot arm."Steele would just raider attack to win brass favor,but you."steele chcukled as her pupils glowed."Steele has you all to herself."steele entred her sambo stance.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>Tyreen looked delighted as she took her jacket off and tie it around her waist and entred her stance"oh your so on."as steele had a twisted smile on her camdace as she felt the siren energy in her feet.</p>

<p>Steele felt her siren energy kicking in as the two koved in quick speed until they became invisible,.</p>

<p>Across Promethea the two purple energy signatures moved across building to building,street to street, not carring for the lives of lancers or cov as they died.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>At the corners,lilith,amara and maya were separated from amara's team and zero,they saw the soon saw dead lancers and cov around a purple blast residue.</p>

<p>Amara whistled."Steele and Tyreen are going all out,love ot when sirens fight."</p>

Maya can feel the humming and rumbling."steele there killimg their own soldiers and vehicles.

Lilith smirked as she sees wings in the sky."Their cutting loose,not restraining their power,but we need to help your team amara get up to that laser."

In the skies steele and tyreen stopped,the good queen suddely spit out blood but and laughed,she was enjoying this adrenaline rush.

Steele smiled."You risk soldiers to get misson,completely ruthless,commandant steele likes that."

Tyreen licked the blood away.

"your not bad yourself,steeley."

Steele lowered her stance."You could do lot more than rule an army of walking timebomb,when you could rule a group of capable of warriors like steele, hou can join her,and other sirens comrades,we sirens are rare breed,we can dominate seven galaxies."

Troy flew towards the two angery which on made steele chcukled and brushed a punch from troy and locked him in a chokehold."as for you,tour nothing but parasite twin,not true siren,,unlike tyreen,you weak."she whsipred before flyying down holding him as she and troy landed on a car.

The postion that the three vault hunters moze,flak amd zane almost past by.

"What the fuck!"zane shouted.

Steele got up,amd smirked at the three vault hunters,grinning

Moze had sudden flashbacks from her wara,seeimg the siren in battle before."commandant steele."

"Ah,ittle moze.been almost a decade since we met,but lets hold war reunion later,steele is busy with siren business."steele wings appered andshe leaped in the air,flying.

"Wait Steele,i hered my brother baron took money from atlas."zane said.

"You know steele?"flak asked.

"The valdof atlas war,i'll tell you on are way up their."moze said.

Steele made it up towards tyreen,thats just the taste of what a siren is,will you accept Steele's,with vault kyes we find,we unleashed monsters from vaults to show our dominance."

"A good offer,but im in this for me."Tyreen said.

"Pity,than let our battle continue, da?"steele flew as their right hands connected to their faces.

[ashtcnirwin]

excuse me, i'm just gonna jot down some post-tour/-trip musings, mainly for myself tbh, i don't think any of it is gonna be interesting to anyone else

that sounds very negatively loaded, doesn't it? it's not, it's just random thoughts about misc tour-/trip-related things

i'm so fucking grateful that we ended up doing the london show despite having decided pre-tour date drop to avoid london if we could. not only was it my second favourite show i attended on this tour but i also finally got a chance to meet leesh in person after ten fucking years of knowing each other and it was amazing. and also the o2 was overall an amazing venue. like, i knew it was iconic ofc but i didn't know it was this whole thing with a damn shopping mall and food places and bars and whatnot inside the building itself. it was also just a very pleasant venue to be at tbh, like it was spacious and the air quality was good and the lines were never horrific for anything we needed

english love affair was the dice song i desperately wanted to see performed at least once. i got it three times and it was perfect cos i got the first ever live performance of it, i got what very well might be the last ever live performance of it, and i got it in london

in hindsight, i'm thoroughly astounded that neither me nor amanda succumbed to exhaustion in any way at any point, cos we were going full speed for almost two weeks, we both got sick, we were constantly going from one place to another, always having somewhere we needed to be, be it a train station or an airport or a show, often running on very little or straight up no sleep, and occasionally on less than ideal types of food. and despite all that, we managed to do what we set out to do, which was to not waste a single moment and see and experience as much as we could in every place we went to, and we did it without fighting or even arguing unless a couple of small disagreements that were settled by compromise within five minutes count. i don't think there's another person on earth i could have done something like that with without losing my will to live at some point. that includes my boyfriend, tho admittedly that's mainly because he would've been miserable on that type of trip

sorta related to the previous point: i've experienced it before with other people but it's always interesting to me how certain types of situations/experiences/whatever will truly bring out people's strengths and weaknesses. and in mine and amanda's cases, it seems that we balanced each other extremely well on that front, like...my weaknesses were her strengths and vice versa. which ig isn't that much of a surprise when i think about it and what we're like as people but it never occurred to me beforehand, it's something i'm only realising now

i really wonder what happened with the soundcheck schedule in budapest cos in the email i got, it said that check-in started at 3pm, so we got there a little before 3, at which point it turned out that check-in had started at the normal 1:30pm time, which we only found out by chance really. kinda tempted to send funcode hungary an email and ask, not cos it matters but cos i'm curious

our hotel in manchester had one of those bathrooms that's basically just a glass cube. thankfully it was frosted glass but there was no real door, just a stall door type of thing, like there were gaps at the top and bottom, and it also didn't lock or anything, and tbh it wasn't as much a problem as it was just really fucking funny but alsoooo amanda made a comment about how awkward it would be if two coworkers were sharing that room and i don't remember which one of us said that heyyyy that's some solid ficspo but bottom line is that i wanna write that fic

more of a not-entirely-positivity-loaded note to myself to keep in mind in the future than an actual musing: the mental toll it takes on me to be "trapped" in my spot in the pit between soundcheck and the actual show is severe enough that i don't think i wanna do it again. or, no, i wanna do soundcheck and i wanna do pit, but i don't wanna do the thing where i go in for soundcheck and stay rooted in my spot for the rest of the night. had i been a little taller, it probably would've been 100% worth it cos in terms of distance to the stage it's fucking great to be row 4-5-6, but the thing is that while i had an amazing time at the shows i did soundcheck at this round, i'm of very average height, which essentially means that to have a good view in the pit, i either have to be row 1, 2 or 3, or far enough back that i can easily see over everyone's heads. or be extremely lucky and have the people in front of me be 5'1'' or shorter ig. so being row 4-5-6 mostly leads to a constant struggle to see anything, which is exhausting and annoying

[spohkh]

HOLLY BLACK ME TOO

RIGHT LIKE!!!!!!!!! id always been into fantasy and faerie tales, and in fact loved holly's spiderwick chronicle series too, but reading tithe was like. oh. oh i see. i understand everything about myself as i am now and will ever be. like this is IT. THIS IS IT!!!!

[yukikorogashi]

hello, it is me, anon. honestly, you are an absolute angel. very kind and caring. i don't think i would have stuck with this blog as long as i have if i hadn't befriended you early on. you're so creative and kind and caring and just an overall good friend. so anyway, this is an anon. you can't see me.

ANONYMOUSLY OR NOT TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT ME. I CAN’T REPLY/COMMENT, JUST PUBLISH. // ALWAYS ACCEPTING

[aers]

people who give me cute nicknames: 💓💘💫💕💌🌟💕💖💝💖💗😍💕💟💞💓💝🌟💖💓💕💘💫💌💘💕💝💓

[scnctuary]

ˎˊ˗   𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒛𝒂  |  @wearyhands​

[fangedfirecracker]

i was watching a wasted potential video on r.aphael s.orel from the s.oul c.alibur series and god, the way they reworked s.c.v for the video is so much better than what we had and now i’m just really mad and upset.

[leesh]

happy nine years since i dumped my bf then made out with this guy who was in love with me not long after and had everyone slut shaming me for it