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#loveandmurder
adalwolfgang · 1 year
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𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧 😅
Link: Little Guy Maker
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Starting tags (no pressure) + anyone else who’d like to participate: @waxxl0ver @ninakuli @12gaugefalls @my-sanity-is-long-gone @loveandmurders @small-sinclair @ligrivvirgilcelestial
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Sinclair!Reader and a not so happy family reunion
This was particularly inspired by @loveandmurders sister Sinclair au. While I was reading it I had the thought, “what if the sister was actually happy with her adoptive family?” And then this bug was born and wouldn’t leave me alone
I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible, avoiding she/her/he/him when referring to the reader but I am fem aligned so this might lean more towards that. I also tried to avoid use of [Name] or Y/N.
Warnings: i like yanderes so there’s some elements of platonic yandere in this. If you don’t know what that is, look it up, see if you’re comfortable with reading that and then come back. Typical movie gore, since I’m not a big Sinclair Slut probably OOC, people getting made into wax statues.
Thinking about Sinclair!Reader. Being separated from your brothers when you were young and reuniting with them as a “tourist”.
But it’s not a happy reunion, at least not for you.
Sibling!Reader has vague memories of life before they were adopted.
You were only around four or five when your parents adopted you, not really old enough to clearly remember anything, especially years later. Some things stick in your mind though, no matter how much time has passed.
You’ll dream of a woman’s incessant screaming and even after you wake up the sound still rings in your head or sometimes you’ll catch a random whiff of an extremely sweet smell. The most prominent memory though is the feeling of burning pain.
Your adoptive parents don’t say much about your biological family, maybe because they don’t know or because you just never ask, but they know enough to tell you that the burns that cover the majority of your legs came from boiling wax, that the burns are why you were taken away.
The only things you have from your birth family are your first name, the memories, and the burns.
The lingering ghosts make you think you're better off never knowing. You never tell your parents about what little you remember and they never ask.
You’ve had a happy life with your family despite the circumstances that brought you to them. You’re treated as one of their own and the fact that you’re adopted is just an unimportant thought in the back of your mind.
The sky is blue, you are your bones, and you’re adopted.
Your brother, on the other hand, seems more curious about your birth family than you are. Over the years he’s tried to convince you to look for them, but you’ve denied him every time. You love your parents and you love your big brother. As far as you are concerned they’re all the family you’ll ever need. You’re more than content to leave your biological family in the past and let sleeping dogs lie.
Thankfully he respected your decision. It wasn’t like he would dig into your past without your consent, right?
....right?
You frequently take road trips with your brother. He’s the outdoorsy type and enjoys camping, and while you don’t care for sleeping outside, you do enjoy the long drives through small towns. It makes you think about how you’re passing through someone else’s life. It’s just a few miles to you, but to someone else, it’s their whole world. It’s a good bonding experience.
You’re passing through Louisiana this time around and if you’re being honest, you have no idea where you’re going. Your road trips are frequent enough that at this point if your brother tells you to hop in the car, you’d slide into the passenger seat without question and take over the radio.
You’re beginning to regret it though. Not only has your brother been oddly excited, but Louisiana is so hot and muggy, it’s almost unbearable. You’ve already ditched your pants at the last gas station for something shorter and more breathable. It’s not often you wear something that shows too much leg, the stares you get on the vast expanse of your burned skin make you uncomfortable.
Right now though, it’s just you, your brother, and the open road for miles. There’s no one around to gawk at you and that's a good thing, you decide.
At least until the engine begins to sputter and comes to an unexpected stop.
You look up from the CDs you were flipping through, “Did we just run out of gas?” You question.
Your brother shakes his head, “No way, we just filled up at the last stop, remember?”
He pops the hood and you both clamber out of the car to peer at the engine.
“What do you thinks wrong with it?”
There’s a brief silence where you both share a blank look. For all that your brother is good with his hands, he’s lousy with mechanic work. You’d be better off asking him how to start a fire with your ass cheeks than how to do an oil change.
As for you? Well, the less said about your mechanical expertise the better.
While your brother looks over the map you keep an eye on the road hoping that a stranger with better sense than the two of you would pass by and be willing to help.
Your brother seemed to have marked an area on the map. He’s insistent that you both walk there and as far as you can tell, it’s 20 miles in the opposite direction of the nearest town.
You’re sweating and in no mood to walk somewhere that’s not marked on the map.
“There’s nothing there!” You argue.
“There is! Just trust me on this, I promise you, it’ll be fine!”
You walk over to the driver's side and sit in the seat, slamming the door. “You can walk there if you’re so eager!” You say to him, “but either we walk to the town that’s actually on the map or I’m staying my happy ass right here ‘till someone else comes along.”
He begins to wave the map in your face and you don’t bother to listen to what he has to say, grabbing at it. He smushes your face and tries to push you away, “Let go! You’re going to rip it, you idiot!”
“I’m an idiot!?” You screech, “Well, then you’re crazy! The heats obviously fried your last brain cell!”
You’re leaning halfway out the window trying to smack him as he yelps when a truck comes cruising down the road, stopping a few feet away from your broken-down car.
Your brother pauses and you use the opening to give him a swat to the back of the head, quickly retreating into the car.
“Looks like we won’t have to walk after all.” You say a little smugly. He simply rolls his eyes at you, rubbing at the spot you hit.
The stranger hops out of his truck and scampers over.
He’s shorter than your brother and you take comfort in knowing that if he was a weirdo, your brother could easily stomp him.
His clothes are worn out, clearly meant for his work.
He’s awkward in his movements and if you’re being honest he reminds you of a possum or a raccoon. Some kind of critter that would dig through your trash.
He sure smelled like he did, you think privately.
All in all, he seemed nice enough.
“Y’all need some help?” He asks, a grin stretching across his face, “I can take a quick peek. See if I can’t get y’all back on the road.”
“We’d really appreciate it....” your brother holds his hand out in greeting, which the man shakes enthusiastically.
“Lester,” he introduces, “the names Lester.”
He pauses to stare at you when your brother gives him your name, like he’s heard it before.
Like he’s seen you before.
You give him a wave, hoping it’ll snap him out of whatever thought he was having.
His grin widens, showing off yellowed teeth, and he returns your wave eagerly.
He moves onto the engine.
You can’t really see what he’s doing but it probably wouldn’t make any difference if you could. You’d have no idea what he was fiddling with anyway.
“Well, there’s ya problem!” Lester exclaimed, “Yer transmission leaking!”
“Is that something you can fix here?” Your brother asks, “we really need to make it to our destination.”
“Not a chance,” Lester replies, pulling out a rag and wiping his hands of grease, “it's leaking and from what I can see, somethings wrong with the torque too.”
Your brother groans and you slump into your seat.
“Gonna have to take it to a shop. Closest ones in Ambrose, 15 miles from ‘ere. I can give y’all a ride there.”
You poke your head out the window, “Ambrose?” You ask confused, “That wasn’t on the map.”
Lester smiles at you, his eyes creasing, “Too small to put on a map. More like one of them tourist traps than a real town.”
At the mention of Ambrose, your brother's mood seems to shift.
He’s excited and immediately accepts Lester’s offer of a ride, surprising not only to you but your benefactor as well with his new energy.
You’re a little more hesitant but it’s not the first time you’re brother’s made an executive decision, so you go along with it.
When you step out of the car, Lester freezes, like he’s seen a ghost.
You assume he was put off by your scars and cringe internally. You hope he doesn’t comment on them like others have before.
He doesn’t thankfully, but he seems to be waiting for something.
You climb into the middle seat of his truck, and between the smell, your brother's weird mood, and Lester’s staring, you have a feeling it’s going to be a long 15 miles to Ambrose.
He doesn’t tell you that the door doesn’t open from the inside until after your brother has already shut it behind him.
“You two on some kinda romantic getaway or something?” Lester asks.
“Absolutely not,” you reply instantly, “we’re siblings and we’re just on a little trip.”
“Really?” Lester asks with exaggerated surprise, “Y’all look so different, I woulda never guessed y’all were related!”
“We get that a lot.” You say blandly and don’t bother to elaborate.
Lester says your name and you look at him. He repeats it a few times, like he’s testing it out on his tongue.
“How’d ya parents pick that name?” He asks.
You shrug, “No idea.” You hope the conversation drops but your brother is in a mouthy mood it seems.
“They’re adopted. They came to us when they were five.”
You shoot your brother a glare, “when they were five huh?” Lester’s knuckles whiten around the steering wheel, “Ya ever meet your real family?” He emphasizes the word ‘real’ in a way that makes your stomach churn.
“No.” You say resolutely, “don’t plan to and don’t really want to.”
The silence following doesn’t last long.
“How’d ya get them burns?” It’s posed like a question but his tone tells you he has an answer and is just waiting for you to confirm it.
You thought Lester was nice at first, but his questions make you uncomfortable in a way nobody has before. It’s like he’s putting together pieces of a puzzle you don’t even know exists and the thought fills you with dread.
You don’t plan on answering but your brother does. “The social worker said it was boiling wax. It had been treated at home but it got infected. Somebody found them passed out in the street an — “
You cut him off by harshly elbowing him in the ribs and he winces. You feel frustration build up in you, even you didn’t know that last bit, so why’d the hell he’d have to go and tell a stranger your business?
Lester seems satisfied with the answers he got and doesn’t bother you with more.
You spend the rest of the drive halfheartedly listening to Lester regale you with tales of his job picking up roadkill.
Inside you’re fuming. Your brother always wanted to know more about your past than you did. He probably took a look at your old records.
You’re gonna tear him a new one when you get the chance.
“Bo?” Your brother asks when Lester tells you the name of Ambrose’s only mechanic, “That short for something else?”
Lester glances at him, “Yep, but he hates it so everyone ‘round here just calls him Bo. Besides,” he grins “Beauregard Sinclair just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
You don’t notice the glee on your brother's face.
Lester stops in front of a station and turns to the both of you, “Listen, Bo, the mechanic, he’s a bit uhh wary of strangers,” he tells you, “Doesn’t like ‘em, so let me go soften him up for ya. I’ll make sure he treats ya right.”
A man in blue coveralls — Bo, you assume — steps out of the shop and stands with his hands on his hips. Lester gets out of the truck, “Y’all stay put!” He tells you through the window and rushes over to the man.  Lester grabs Bo’s arm and pulls him back into the shop.
If you had been able to see the future that awaited you, you’d have slid over to the driver's side and taken the truck.
You would have driven and never looked back.
But you can’t see the future, so you don’t move from your spot.
Hindsight is 20/20
“So, what do you think?” Your brother asks in what you think is supposed to be a casual attempt. You know him well though, and can see he’s thrumming with anticipation.
“About what?” You ask.
“You know, about Ambrose? Or,” he hesitates, “About Bo?”
You give him a weird look, “Bo?” You repeat incredulously, “I haven’t even spoken to the man and you’re asking me what I think about him?” This whole day has felt like an interrogation session, you think it’s time you started asking the questions. “You’ve been acting weird this whole damn trip and you still haven’t even told me where we’re going, and don’t think I’ve forgotten how you told an absolute stranger all my business! What the hells the matter with you?”
“Don’t you want to meet your real family?” He blurts out and you feel a headache coming on.
“Oh, not this shit again. What does that have to do with anything? You know what, I am not havin — “
“I looked at your file, and I did some digging.”
“...What?” The world seemed to stop.
“I found your original birth certificate. Before our name, your last name was Sinclair and you were born at home, in Ambrose.”
A cold feeling washes over you, starting from the top of your head and spreading to the tips of your toes.
“You had three other siblings, I couldn’t find anything on two of them, but one of them was in the system too — your brother. The only difference was that they sent him back — “
You feel a growing sense of dread, “Please,” you beg, “please tell me you didn’t — “
“His name is Beauregard Sinclair — Bo.” He gestures towards the shop, “That man in there is your blood brother.”
A sense of betrayal sinks into your bones like lead, your whole body feels heavy with it. “How could you?” you hiss out. You don’t know whether you should scream or cry so you simply settle for being furious. “After I told you no! After I asked you to stop, you still kept looking and you even went as far as to drag me out here!”
You never wanted to meet anyone from your biological family and yet your brother, someone you trusted, put you in a situation like this.
“If you just tal—“
“No,” you cut him off, “you won’t say a word about what you found to anyone, especially not — Bo.” You spit his name out, “We’re getting the car fixed and as soon as he’s finished, you will take me home.”
You look him in the eyes, “This is not up for discussion.”
Before your brother can argue, Lester appears at the passenger window, Bo standing a few feet behind him, “Good news!” His joy clashes with the somber mood in the truck but he doesn’t seem to notice, “Bo’s not feeling too prickly today, so he’ll help you out and even throw in a discount!”
Lester opens the door to let you out, mentioning that he’s the one that has to go back for your car with the tow.
It might just be your paranoia but when he introduces you both to Bo, it sounds like he emphasizes your name in particular.
The smile Lester gives you is beaming as he drives away in his truck.
Bo stares intently at you — and only you.
You can feel his eyes roving over your face and scars, it’s a feeling you’re used to.
He’s not looking at you with disgust like others do though. No, the look he’s giving you is soft, and full of longing, like he’s been waiting for you all his life and can’t believe you’re standing in front of him.
Your hands feel clammy. You think that maybe he knows who you are, but throw yourself head first into denial.
If he did know and were to confront you about it, you’d firmly deny it.
Your brother watches you both, waiting for you to react, maybe have a spontaneous change of heart now that you’re face to face with your blood family.
Maybe if he hadn’t brought you here without your knowledge, if he had discussed it with you first.
But none of that happened.
So your face stays blank and you make no move to change your decision.
Bo asks questions more invasive than Lester’s, and you hope it’s just a trait all the residents of this small town have.
About your ‘real’ family, why you never went looking for them, what your childhood was like.
You feel sick, like the people around you were all in on the secret.
So, the next question he asks about your family, you snap.
You tell him you don’t care about your biological family, that they don’t matter. You already have parents and a big brother.
You tell him you only need one family.
You briefly consider asking him if he’s some kinda weirdo but decide not to insult the man that’s going to fix your car. He answers that question for you anyway, with a smirk and by swinging a wrench into your brother's head.
You stand there stunned as Bo climbs atop your brother's prone form, and continues to beat him. You watch in horror, only snapping out of it when a spray of blood hits your face.
“Get off him!” You shriek and throw your entire weight at Bo, catching him off guard. You feel hysterical, to the point where you almost laugh at the look of genuine confusion on Bo’s face. As if he doesn’t understand why’d you do something like that to him of all people.
You scramble away from Bo and over toward the only person you consider a brother. You choke out a sob when you see his face bloody and beaten. You tug at his arms, calling his name and urging him to get up, but all he does is whimper pathetically on the floor, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you away and you don’t have to turn around to know it’s Bo. You struggle but his grip remains firm. “Let me go! Get away from us!” You’re full-on sobbing at this point and Bo simply shushes you as if you were a child.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay honey pie, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He buries his nose into your hair and takes a deep breath.
“We missed ya so much sweetie, we thought we’d never see ya again,” he grabs at your jaw, turning your face towards him. You can barely see him through your tears, but you can feel his burning gaze. “But you’re here now, all of momma’s kids back together,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “she’d be so happy. She never forgot her baby and she made sure we didn’t either.”
You don’t remember blacking out but you must have at some point because find yourself waking up in a child’s room.
You feel a bit disoriented as you sit up in a twin bed with ugly floral patterned sheets.
There’s another bed shoved into the corner of the room, having been stripped of its sheets and left bare.
The room is small and it makes it easy to notice large empty spaces. The room was clearly once shared by two children.
One grew up and moved on and the other ....didn’t
Toys are strewn about the room as if the children who inhabited it simply stood up in the middle of playing and never came back.
Stuffed toys of your favorite animals sit sadly on the shelf. Toys that have long been forgotten by the child they were made for.
There’s a sense of familiarity that comes with being in this room. It brings hazy memories that you can’t focus on, so you instead think about the morning you left home. Your mom pressing a kiss to your cheek and packing you lunch, and your dad sneaking you an extra 100 dollar bill.
The wide grin on your brother's face, promising you a trip unlike any other.
Tears well up in your eyes but you don’t sob like before. You don’t think you have the energy to. You feel drained, the day's events weighing on you like an anchor.
A loud creaking cuts through your exhaustion, reminding you that you’re not safe, that despite the familiarity this is not your home. A curtain of hair is the first thing you notice, then his posture. He’s hunched in on himself but it does little to hide his broad frame.
The man doesn’t say a word as he approaches you. You eye him warily, pressing your back to the wall in a vain attempt at keeping the distance between the two of you. All it serves to do is corner you as he comes closer, biting back the whimper of fear that rises in your throat.
You notice something off with his face, despite the faint wrinkles it’s unnaturally smooth, a mockery of Bo’s own face, you realize. You wonder if this is another unwanted brother.
You flinch as he lifts a hand toward you, but he doesn’t hurt you, instead, he begins to trace your features. His finger follows the curve of your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and the slope of your jaw.
He doesn’t speak a word to you as he does this, gently brushing away your tears when he traces your cheek. It’s meant to comfort you, you think.
He retreats from you but only for a moment, quickly invading your space again. He’s holding a box this time, and he gently presses childish artworks into your hands, colorful and messy works. His body language is expectant but you don’t know what you’re supposed to say.
He quickly runs through the drawings, the sketches improving as they go on, and at one point it becomes apparent that they were drawn by completely different people. While the childish ones depict a variety of subjects — dogs, birds, children playing — The more advanced ones only feature one subject.
You — well, you as a child anyway. You smiling, laughing, perfectly drawn portraits, like they were plucked from your family’s photo album at home.
One of the last sketches makes you pause. It shows variations of what you could have grown to look like. Each one is different but undeniably you, like someone had tried to draw you from memory. In some you have a more prominent nose, deeper-set eyes, or a weaker jaw. You, just slightly different.
He grows frustrated when you react to only one of his works. He shoves a wax figure into your hands, wordlessly urging you to take it. You hesitantly examine it, once again it’s you as a child but you’re not alone this time. You’re smiling happily between three older boys and you recognize their features. The crease of the youngest boy's eyes reminds you of Lester, the infuriating smirk of one of the older boys belongs to Bo, and the final figure you conclude is the man in front of you.
“Is this....us?” you ask, “it’s very detailed.”
His posture perks up and you turn the statue in your hand finding a signature.
“Vincent? Is that you?”
He excitedly nods his head, finally getting the response he desired — recognition.
Then Bo saunters in with Lester at his heels.
And that’s when you learn. Bo describes it much more romanticized but you can put it together yourself.
Your mother, Trudy Sinclair, was an obsessive woman.
She obsessed over her craft, her projects, and her children.
Trudy’s attention was always more focused on Vincent and, by extension, Bo leaving Lester on you with only each other for company. The day you were taken changed that.
She elevated you.
She would hammer into their heads that they should’ve protected you, poor defenseless you. Who would care for you, if not them?
“I do have people who care for me,” you hiss at them, “my parents! I had a protector until you bashed his face in!”
Bo huffs out a laugh, “Then he wasn’t a very good one sweetie.”
You avoid looking at him but he grabs your jaw and turns your head towards him. “I know you’re confused, honey. You spent too much time with those people,” Bo tightens his grip when you try to yank your face out of his hold, “they poisoned your mind, but you’ll see real soon that we’re your family.”
You imagine lunging at him, clawing at his face. You don’t do that, though, instead, you break down like a child.
“Where’s my brother?” You sob out, “I wanna go home, just let us go home!”
Bo is losing patience with you, his eyes hardening, “you ain’t never seeing that boy again,” he states harshly, “we’re you’re brothers, those people are nothing to you. After all,” he smirks “you said it yourself, you only need one family.”
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1donoow · 1 year
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SLASHERS FANFIC REC On going
[Fanfics i've read]
Edited
......
♡ - smut
Mostly fluff
......
Sam(Trick r' treat)
micheal myers
ghostface
jennifer check
art the clown
leatherface
brahms heelshire
·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·
@thathellraiserbitch - headcannon
@krossele - When they hear you singing/humming while you're doing chores
@mvrderer - first kiss
@angelisoffline - Slashers reacting to their s/o licking a knife after cooking
@slasher-male-wife - Slashers reactions to you making them a paper ring
- ___
- slashers falling in love with a victim
@skylarsblue - slashers having a yandere s/o
@riotlain - slashers with a reader who's a cannibal
- Slashers with a grim reaper!reader
@slasherhaven - being best friend with the slashers
- The Slashers’ S/O Having a Self-Deprecating Sense of Humour
- The Slashers reacting to their S/O being able to tame animals
- domestic hc
@fairydaemon - Slashers with s/o doll maker
@slasherstories123 - Slashers reaction to their S/O laying on top of them
@noodlesfics - slashers w a s/o that loves to ride motorcycles
@multific - when you dress up as them
@casualpersonapersonpeach - The Slashers giving you an item of their clothing
@ernelovesslashers - origami w/ slashers pt 1
@kisskiss-slashslash - giving them cheesy nickname
@b-00-biez - Slashers with an adorable and shy s/o
@lussiane333 - Slashers receiving a lap dance from their S/O
————TRICK R' TREAT————
Sam
@the-faceless-bride - one for me, one for you (mother! reader)
————HALLOWEEN—————
michael myers
@visceravalentines - ___
@multi-fandom-imagine - fuck cramps
@chubbyreaderchan - pinky promise pt.2
—————GHOSTFACE—————
@soupbabe - like leatherface? (stu macher)
@yesimwriting - ___
@slashersangel - poly!ghostface socially shy s/o
@salemwolfgang - Poly!Ghostface Falling For Badass S/O HCs
@riotlain - poly!ghostface with a quiet s/o
———JENNIFER'S BODY———
Jennifer check
@currentlytoobusyreadingsmut - the "slumber" party ♡
@polyghostfacehours - ___ ♡
@miyosmagines - dating jennifer check
@lanawinterscigarettes - morning hunger ♡
————— TERRIFIER —————
art the clown
@luvghostie - yandere art hc
- art the clown with a crazy jester s/o
@lussiane333 - art the clown headcannon
@a-writer-on-elm-street - asking him out
————LEATHERFACE————
@loveandmurders - too cute to be killed pt.3
- thomas being with someone who isn't afraid to stand up for him
@sacrificialblood - ___
@slasherstories123 - Thomas with a s/o who has a large skincare routine
@6lostgirl6 - (un)fortunate circumstances
——————THE BOY——————
Brahms heelshire
@soupiie-stories - living with/dating brahms would include
@slasherstories123 - pretty boy
@therainywriter - jealous
@dichotomise - bathing with a sick brahms
@theburninghill - ___
@slasher-hoe - Brahms with a reader who talks with/to themself
@slasher-male-wife - all hot killers wear mask
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HORROR TROPE: Final Girl
@loveandmurders
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number1120 · 2 years
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As promised, here’s my thoughts on the Sinclair Band!AU fanfic book!
This’ll be a mixture of two AU’s based off the lovely @arkunder's band!AU and the awesome @loveandmurders's Sinclair sister!AU (their writing for the sister sinclair is so fucking amazing! go read it!). This'll be a fun one, trust me, because I had to go over every little thing from both two blogs PLUS a kill count video on youtube over HoW. Yes, there will be murder in this, but it'll be fore the good!
For this to work, I can't use "y/n" but it'll take the story element away from the tale. Also I have a hard time writing in 'y/n' context. I'll be practicing on my spare time to make it better. Thank you understanding. I haven't can up with the sister's name yet, but it'll come to me soon.
ANYWAYS!
The story is going to be base around the idea that the Sinclair Brothers did have an adopted sister in their family from when she was 4 weeks old until she was 6-years-old when she was taken away for two reasons: Near drowning and Bo pushing her down the stairs in the Wax House (the big spiral one!). Because of her young age, she doesn't remember much, but the last thing she remembers is bring ripped out of her brothers' arms... no lie. Like she was RIPPED out of their arms.
This crushes Bo and Vincent, and this breaks Lester because they were really close. Trudy? She wanted the girl gone because raising four kids was a lot, and she needed a reason to get rid of the girl. I mean, she was leaning in the doorway with a cigarette in hands as she watched the madness of her sons fighting police officers for their little sister. Victor was inside reading over files for the hospital, not caring that his sons were being traumatized. You know? Dicks.
To add salt to the wound, there was a firer car crash months later, July 17th, the sister's 16th bithday. When Trudy learned that there was a bad crash, the daughter in it, by Bo's teacher. She takes this as a sick way to make her sons to "forget" her, and, that night, she faked a phone call from the "hospital" and she tells the boys that their sister died later at the hospital. Of course, this CRUSHES them. Bo doing some unhealthy coping skills, Vincent not wanting to touch wax for a while, and Lester is a shell of a kid. They lost her for the second time, and it's for good this time. The twins were 12 and Lester was 8.
Fast forward to now:
Sinclair-Voyance is in the Top 10 rock band with their second album being in top charts seven times in a row! World tours, traveling, meeting the Royals inf England! There's nothing that the three brothers can't do! Things are finally getting better, and they are rocking and vibing hardcore with nothing stopping them! The twins are 22 and Lester 18 (and he graduated high school on the honor role!). They are the youngest rockers to hit the rock world, and nothing will slow them down!
... until their manager has them performing on July 17th, the Cursed Date. Bo wants to cancel it because it's the day where all three of them fall apart, but Lester convenes them that it's a good thing and they should do it! But make it different from the rest of the concerts, Vincent reminds them.
It'll be an honorary concert for their baby sister, their favorite sibling. The concert will be a fundraiser for the Fire Rescue and Recovery, a charity for children who were harmed in fries and car crashes. The band has donated to them a couple of times, but this'll be different: it'll be in honor of their sister. Bo won't getting drunk on stage, Vincent showing his face, and Lester taking lead for some songs when emotions run heavy on Bo to still.
Bo swears he's the reason why they lost their sister, and July 17th is the one day of the year where Bo falls apart like a bullet through a car window. He blames himself. It's his fault. The weight he carries will never be understood by his brothers.
Vincent designs limited edition merch, Lester posts a lot about the concert along with telling stories about survivors that went through recovery with the charity, and Bo will perform at a talk show and promoting this a week before the concert, hoping that other bands will join this cause, too. Now, a Humble/Sober Bo is a very rare sight, and the rock world knows it, showing that this thing is the real deal.
WHILE THEY ARE DOING THAT:
Their sister, alive and well, has a bad knee (from an injury she can't remember) and a burned hand (from the car crash). She and her friends are huge fans of Sinclair-Voyance, and their radio station is hosting a ticket "9th Caller" thing, and she's lucky number 9! She and her friends are stocked to see the boys preform, and the sister is excited, too, because it'll be her 16th birthday. Goodness, she's so excite to celebrate it with her friends and at the concert! And the concert is for a good charity that helped her heal from the car crash she survived. Because of the charity, her hand is scarred but fully healed, and it saved her hand from being taken. Anyways, she won tickets for The Stand Pit, and S-V was happy to trade a standing ticket for a front row seating ticket. She can't stand for a long time, and S-V Brand understood that (The Sinclairs a lot of things, but not ablest).
Plus, this concert will be able to be away from her abusive boyfriend and brothers. Well, she doesn't want to call them bothers for what they've done to her, but what else is she supposed to call them? They remind her every day that her first family didn't want her, and her first brothers tried to kill her! No one wants her. Even the new adopted family doesn't want her: they just wanted the check the state gives every month for taking care of her.
Even though she's a fan of their music, she always felt connected with them. Bo's voice was always comforting her like a lullaby. Vincent's kin smile and gentleness around children made her feel like she knew him. Lester's bright smile an happy brown eyes sending her back to a time she's forgotten. She knows she was taken away from a different family, but she forgot they faces. Is it possible to miss strangers who she's never met?
They felt like a home she never got to live in.
Before the concert, Lester is out near the pit doing autographs, talking, and doing photos with fans. He was the biggest smile on his face, but it fades when he sees his... no. That's not her. She's dead! That's just a fan who looks like her! Yeah, that's it. Besides, his sister's dead! He buried her in a white coffin with butterflies on it. Butterflies were her favorite, and the scar on her hand was in a shape of one she got while she drowned. While the town went to away on the day of her funeral to comfort his parents, the brothers stayed behind and finished the job before the digger could bury her. They threw dirt over her grave while listening to the radio, and they comfort her, promising that she'll always be an angel to them.
The three brothers singing their sister to sleep to "Amazing Grace" when they were done. Yeah... his sister's dead.
Either way, he forces a happy face and takes a photo with the sister look-alike. As Lester leaves to get ready and recovers from this ghost sighting, the girl catches his hand, At first the security is about to push her away, but the girl says to him with soft eyes, "I'm sorry for your lost, Lester. I hope she's resting well."
His eyes falls to her hand and see the butterfly-shaped scar. That seals it. It's her! It's really her! That's his sister and--and she doesn't remember him. He squeezes her hand, saying, "Thank ya, ma'am. It means a lot ya showed up for 's. Than' ya."
In her mind, his voice rings, and she's heard that voice before. Long before the albums and interviews. Long before Sinclair-Voyance became a band. Somewhere, his voice matched the screaming brother fighting to keep his sister in his grip. Somewhere, looking out the back window of a cop car, visions of her brothers fighting sheriffs flashed, and Lester was there.
She finally remembers.
Anyways, that's what I have in mind so far. Let me know if you have another idea!
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12gaugefalls · 1 year
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Something Worth Fighting For (Sinclair brothers x sister!OC) (PLATONIC) Part 2
A/N: A little summary this part jumps to three years after the first part! The ages of the Sinclair's in this are: Bo and Vincent: 13, Lester: 11 and Emily:8. The next part to this will be in Lester's pov, before we go into third person. I feel like the next part will be pretty angsty so please be mindful of that (I'll still put a TW anyway but just letting you know!) Let's get on to it!
TW: Mentions of child abuse, injury, and hints to plotting revenge. (Please tell me if I missed anything!)
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(Three years later, Vincent's pov)
It was nearing his sister's birthday. He and his brothers were planning to do something for her, with the limited things they had. She was turning 8 this year. He and Bo had been doing odd jobs around town to get some money to buy her a gift. Lester was making his present to her this year. It was going pretty good lately, but Vincent had noticed something going on with his parents. They had been very secretive, their father leaving the room to talk to someone on the phone, their mother convincing their sister to get rid of some of her things (which wasn't much anyways). Vincent had found these things weird, so he had told Bo about this and Bo agreed that he had seen things as well.
Vincent Sinclair was shocked to see Emily's room almost completely empty, only things that were completely necessary were left. This totally didn't sit right with the masked twin, so he went to find his baby sister to ask where most of her stuff had gone, only for their mother to block his path and berate him for not working on his talent. She started pushing Vincent back to the home workshop as he tried to make up an excuse that he was hungry or something, but to no avail.
Vincent didn't know how he was supposed to not only tell his brothers about what he saw but ask his sister where all of her stuff had gone. Their mother hovering near him not made it damn near impossible, until she went outside for a smoke break. As soon as Vincent heard the front door slam, he quickly made his way to the backyard. Spotting his two youngest siblings, he stopped, Lester was holding Emily in his arms as tears rolled down his face and from the way Emily's back was rising and falling quickly, she was crying too. But Vincent saw it wasn't really sadness on Lester's face, it was anger. It was a look that Vincent wasn't used to on his happy-go-lucky baby brother.
As Vincent made his way over, Lester's eyes snapped to him, giving a few signs asking what happened, Lester had responded by telling Emily that Vincent was here and that she should show and tell him what happened.
Nothing could prepare him for what he saw and felt when his baby sister turned around.
A forming bruise covered her entire cheek and a small gash on her forehead. Vincent swore he had never move faster in his young life, he gently cupped her unbruised cheek bring his other hand to shakily sign and ask what happened. Her response only made him fill with rage.
"It was momma.. she got mad at me this morning.." her voice was shaky, tears and snot running down her face. "I didn't mean to get in the way!" Her cry broke both brothers hearts. Vincent was angry, there was no doubt about it, but unlike his twin, Vincent didn't react immediately. No, he would wait to seek revenge, on his own mother. But for now, he and Lester would go down to the park and distract her until they came up with a way to tell Bo.
It was all they could do for now.
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A/N: Please again I'm thanking @loveandmurders for giving me permission to use their AU! I'm really excited for this series! I've been trying to post for years my fanfictions (not this one specifically) and I've never been able to do it. But to see that I got even just a few likes means the world to me! So thank you! And please go check them out, I really love their work and they inspire me so much! Thanks again!
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loveandmurders · 5 months
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Hi I’m sorry to bother but I’m looking for a fix and I hope you can help me.
I might have imagined it but I can’t for the love of me find this fic/series. All I remember about it was that the reader was biologically a Sinclair but got into the system and when she grew up her adoptive brother wanted to find her original family even tho she didn’t. Ofc he drives her to ambrose with her thinking they’re driving for some other reason. It’s just them two and the car obviously breaks down and Lester finds and brings them to ambrose where they kill her adoptive brother and keeps her there.
Can you find it? I’ve been searching for so long )):
Hello love, I believe it's this one you're looking for :
Enjoy 🥰✨️
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small-sinclair · 1 year
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Madness in These Words
Chapter 1: Summer Goes
Hello! I am a nonbinary of my word, so here's chapter 1 of the Sinclair Band!AU. This is inspired by @arkunder's slasher band and @loveandmurders's sister sinclair!au. I have chapter 2 finished and going to reread it to make sure it sounds good (might post it next week or in a couple of days).
Tw: mention of fake blood, religion themes, sad Bo at the end, worried Lester, flashbacks
Enjoy this first chapter and let me know if you like it! :3
By the time the lights went out on the stage, the crowd of women roared in thrilled screams and out-of-control shrills. The buzzing of the atmosphere was too much all at once, but wasn’t it exciting? It’s enough to drive a sane man wild, enough to burn everything else down. Flashes of lights from cameras and phone lights shined in the darkness like stars on a clear night, reminding him of the stars back in the country. If infinity had one more day to share with nothing, Lester hoped they would spend it here.
            He took a deep breath in, slow and sure, then let it out, anxious and unsteady. This was his first time playing with his brothers, Bo and Vincent, and he wasn’t sure if he could live up to the fans’ expectations. Was he going to mess up? Yeah, he already knew that. His fingers fidgets with the brim of his shirt as his other hand spun the drumstick faster. His bright brown eyes darted from one corner of the stage where Vincent stood, his black and red guitar hanging from his shoulder like a jacket tied to a hip. His half face shined in the faded lights, making him look like a dark angel in ripped jeans and a too-tight button up with fake blood stains on his neck and white priest collar.
            It was Bo’s idea for the religious themed night, where he and Vincent would wear the white collars under the black shirts, fake blood on their hands and arms. They looked like fallen priests that last their path of the Lord, and Lester was the new shining hope that could bring them back. Lester’s black shirt was unbuttoned at the top to show off his rosary, and he was the only one not covered in fake blood. Father O’Connor gave the rosary to him in Ambrose before he and his brothers left on tour a few weeks ago. He didn’t feel comfortable with the theme of the night, but he was more than willing to try it out. Bo promised not to make fun of the Father’s gift because it met a lot to Lester. Father O’Connor was the one who made sure the boys felt welcome in the church going up, and he made sure all three know the Word back to front. Yes, Bo did resist it because of… personal reasons, but he still came to church every Sunday. But tonight’s theme was all his idea. It’s to promote the new album that’ll be coming out in three days, and the song lineup has three new never-before-heard songs.
            He took another deep breath, nervousness filling his head to make him dizzy. He bit the inside of this lower lip hard enough to taste sweet iron and bitterness from the lack of sugar. If he could do back flips to get the nerves out, he would. He felt like he was going to throw-up on his boots, but he had to stop himself. Men don’t get nervous; that’s what his father taught him. What he would give just to hear his grandmother telling him that he was going to do good—
            His thoughts were interrupted as Bo smacked his back a bit too hard, causing him to jump. His hand clenched the drumstick tightly until his knuckles turned white.
            “Nervous much?” His brother hummed, his drawl in a joking matter. “I reckon you’ll do fine.” He held a devil-may-care grin, his bright blue eyes glowing from the smeared blood from his forehead. It didn’t make Lester cringe at the sight of his brother like this, but it did make him feel uneasy because it brought back a memory of when they lost—
            Lester clinched his jaw tightly, swallowing the memory down his tight throat. He turned his attention back to the crowds screaming and getting hyped as the lights started to shine dimly in the fogy filled stage.
He already knew that some of the fans weren’t thrilled that he was part of the band, and he was new to the music world with his drumming and singing. He’s read the headlines and how they gave him “Shit-Pit Kid” because he was in the pit area for the first tour along with behind the scenes on stage. The first time, actually, that he introduced himself was when Bo called him to the stage to sing a cover that he and his brothers joked about doing. He remembered how girls went crazy at his voice and his feet tapping to the beat. The “Sounds of Silence” was really introduction to the band, sealing his soul to the drums and backup. Vincent was more than proud to have all of his brothers in a band; all of his siblings were part of a vision that he and Bo dreamed about in the back of the tailgate overlooking Ambrose shitty fog, listening to the crawdads sing.
When they started, Lester was starting his Senior year of high school, but he was able to come to some shows over the summer and breaks. He loved the road and the adventures he and his brothers went on. He loved going out seeing people line up for blocks and blocks just to see his brothers play. Vincent's writing skills and Bo's voice were something unmatched to the rock 'n roll world, and it woke music listeners all over. He'll never forget how the Prime Minister of Canada came to a summer show just to get a picture with his daughter in front of the band bus. What really made things going was the fan art of his brothers playing. Whenever Vincent got a drawn photo of him, he kept it in his guitar case, calling his fans "Muses". He wasn't lying, too. At random, Vincent would find a photo of him and a fan online and draw them together, posting it, and sending a copy to that fan. Art and music speak louder than words and smiles.
Bo was different. He was the charmer of the group and really knew how to get the girls flustered and hot, earning the nickname "Boe", which is a play on "Hoe". Though he would get drunk on stage while Lester was there to watch, he would stay sober long enough to make it through the first seven songs until taking a 5 minute break for the bathroom or in need of water. But Bo's eyes always scanned the crowd with excitement and thrill. He loves the attention and the fans screaming over him and his brother. Lester remembered during one of the shows, Bo stopped it and had the people turn the backlights on because a fan passed out. He didn't start the show up until she was out of there with help. It's a rare moment that Bo showed this side of him, but the fans ate it up like ice cream on a hot summer day along with the rock world. It showed parents that it wasn't always scary music and angry lyrics.
The only thing missing? Their sister backstage. It's selfish for Lester to want her back, but it's enough for him to play for her. Goodness, if she was here now, the crowd go nuts over how pretty she looks. She would be sixteen, Lester reminded himself, and she would still be in high school.
To keep love in a photograph in the heart locket he wore under the rosary...
            Their mother, however, hated this. She never approved it because of her own faith. She called her sons devils and demon-minded, and that only fueled Bo’s musical thoughts and Vincent’s lyrics. The growls and screams, the deep voices and swears—it’s like they were crafted and carved to be punk rock singers.
            Bo raised a brow as if he could read his thoughts and nudged his elbow. “Ma ain’t here. Got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”
            “I gots lots of things to worry ‘bout, Bo,” Lester responded as he heard Vincent walking out, playing to start the countdown for Bo to walk out. “Wha’ if they don’t like me?”
            “Never mind ‘at, Les,” Bo reassured, ruffling his little brother’s hair, earning a giggle. “You’ll do just fine. Wal’ out with me an’ we can start. You’ll feel bett’a when ya playin’.” He let his guard drop for just a moment, showing Lester that his big brother is right with him. “You’ll do amazin’ tonight. We believe in ya.” Bo takes a deep breath, whispering loud enough for Lester to hear, “Ambrosia would believe in ya, too.”
Lester looked up at his brother, mouth a gap slightly. Ambrosia's name on his lips felt like prayer never spoken. Bo hardly said her name unless he's really drunk and out of it, or when he's sober looking up at the stars dancing over the sky. he would talk to her when he's alone, Lester found out one night on the road last week when he noticed Bo wasn't in his bunk.
When he went outside, he hid by the bus and watched Bo, who was sitting on top of a park picnic table with a cigarette in his fingers. He was clutching the shared golden locket (the same one Lester is wearing tonight) as he looked up to the sky.
"You up there, Ambrosia? 'S me, yer brother, Bo," Bo said softly to the rolling clouds. "We had anoth'a good show. Wish you were 're. You'd like tonight." Lester remembered how Bo rubbed his wrist too rough, causing them to bleed. "Miss ya like hell. Vincent misses ya, too." Then his head perked up to the sudden moonlight basking over him like a blanket. "I wrote a song fer ya, sis. A dumb one, but I like it." He took a drag of his cigarette and blew it up to the sky. "Wish you were 're, Ambrosia." He flicked the cigarette and stood. "Goodnight, starlight. Talk to ya tomorrow?" He turned away from the moonlight, singing the same melody:
"Memories, sweet songs of light, bring back the one we forgot.
Sweet Ambrosia on my lips, say goodnight to the waters and bright sky.
Goodnight, sweet summer days. Goodnight, sweet summer nights.
Keep Ambrosia close to my mind and this sinner's heart."
Then Bo’s face went back to the smoke and fog. The crowd as soon as they started screaming his name like a chant of gods calling their hero forward. “Let’s get this, yeah?”
            Lester gripped the rosary, finding courage in his chest, then nods. His nerves were swimming around in the pit of his stomach, but looking at his brother made it all go away. There’s a strange trust between him and his brothers, and it’s connected by anger and filled with off key anthems.
“Alright,” he said in a breath, gripping his drumsticks. “Take ‘em to church, Bo.”
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zebralover · 2 years
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I posted 431 times in 2022
That's 431 more posts than 2021!
0 posts created (0%)
431 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@loveandmurders
@a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all
@loveronlineee
@specialagentlokitty
@chezzywezzy
I tagged 0 of my posts in 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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latenightsleuth · 3 years
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Currently watching Albuquerque Ambush, the first installment of a 2019 series called murder tapes on Discovery Plus at Amazon Prime. . Former firefighter and loving father Don Fluitt was murdered in his home on December 29th, 2016. Solved by Albuquerque officer Matt Caplan and team. . #ripdonfluitt #rememberthevictim #solvedmurder #firefighter #latenightsleuth #loveandmurder #murdertapes #albuquerqueambush #discoveryplus https://www.instagram.com/p/CT-CycOFgJf/?utm_medium=tumblr
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zoloftandchai · 4 years
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Fake Artist Bio - Luiza Prado
Luiza Jesus Prado (stagename: Hifa Cybe) is a transdisciplinary artist born in Guaratingueta, Brazil, in 1988. Although her experiments in employing a plethora of mediums are impressive for onlookers and critics alike, it is the chilling narratives behind her work that make her an artist of interest.
Since 2016, Prado has enlisted her alter-ego - 'Hifa Cybe' - to animate love, loss, angst, and grief in her work. A photoseries called 'Sinto Muito (I'm so sorry)' depicts the process of writing letters to a dead lover. The conspicuous presence of blood and meaty, sculptural elements resembling human flesh have successfully stirred conversations surrounding intent amidst art critics - has Hifa's (or rather, Prado's) lover been murdered? Are there more ominous realities concealed under what the viewer can digest?
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Prado plays with these reviews and reactions all the same. She employs subliminal messaging via her 'sordid' imagery and somber titles to breathe a somewhat dangerous and unstable persona into Hifa. In I Miss You (2017), she wholly embodies Hifa to ritualistically burn her love letters in what appears to be an anti-demonic prayer ring. The viewers are left to ponder on whether this translates to Hifa gaining closure for the mistakes of a past lover, or if they've conversely witnessed Hifa begging for redemption/forgiveness after committing an unspeakable crime of passion.
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More recently, Prado's ideations seem to have shifted from exposing Hifa's story to introspecting on her part in it. Works such as Girl With The Gas Mask (2020) and Psylocybin (2020) address the constant paranoia that subsumes Hifa, who, in living in guilt from doing something still unknown to Prado's audience, resorts to self-medicating with narcotics. Needless to say, the artist indubitably posesses the artistic direction, vision, and patience it takes to create (and curate) a wonderfully mysterious and layered 'second life' in her portfolio.
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adalwolfgang · 1 year
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House of Wax + (Name) as The Office images
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Summary : Bo and Vincent’s brotherly love.
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Summary : Bo when Wade was breaking into things and Carly locked him out of his truck.
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Summary : Lester’s less than 3 minutes of screen time.
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Summary : Vincent throughout the entire movie.
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Summary : (Name) when they first met the twins.
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Summary : (Name) when they realize the whole town of Ambrose is wax people.
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Summary : You’re dating one of the Sinclair’s.
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Summary : Bo when he first chased down Carly.
Additional tags : @loveandmurders @ninakuli @my-sanity-is-long-gone @waxxl0ver @sketchy-rosewitch @small-sinclair
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goku20193 · 2 years
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Repost: @georgehtakei #KarinaCastro #JoseRafael #TrueCrime #LoveAndMurder #Obsessiveness #ObsessiveLove #Obsessed #Obsession #CrimesOfPassion #ObsessionIsNotLove #ExBoyfriendsSuck #ExBoyfriends #ExGirfriends #ExGirlfriendsBeLike #ExBoyfriendsBeLike #ExGirlfriendsSuck #LoveSucks #PassionateLove #OhMyyy https://www.instagram.com/p/Cie4cC4OZWWOVjWhSYtPChMHJNEclYAcZaRaiQ0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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joyffree · 2 years
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✯✯✯ COVER REVEAL ✯✯✯
Love and Murder by L.L. Hunter
Cover Designer: Emily Wittig
Releasing July 31st, 2022
Darcie never thought she’d see the day when she’d venture back to Summervale...
When Bobby goes missing, the teens fear he has fallen victim to the same person who has been taunting them with mysterious bloody letters.
So they are forced to head back to the one place they all swore they would leave behind them.
Little do they know its a trap, and they’ve inadvertently handed themselves to the killer on a silver platter.
One by one, the group of friends go missing, and now it’s up to the adults to solve the case.
But the clue to solving the case and finding Darcie and her friends involves them all having their deepest darkest secrets uncovered.
In the thrilling final chapter in the bestselling Summervale series,
When Darcie comes face to face with the killer, will she turn the tables on them? Or become their next victim?
Will the teens make it out alive?
Pre-Order: https://books2read.com/u/3y10Yv
@LLHunter
Hosted by @LadyAmbersReviewsPR
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dailymusicreleases · 7 years
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LESLIE MENDELSON Love And Murder Label: Royal Potato Family Released: April 14, 2017
1. Jericho 2. Coney Island 3. Murder Me 4. Chasing The Thrill 5. Crazy 6. Blue Bayou (feat. Bob Weir) 7. Love You Tonight 8. Just Like A Woman 9. The Circus Is Coming 10. Cry, Cry Darlin’
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number1120 · 1 year
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Here's a snippet for The Band!AU
inspired by: @arkunder and @loveandmurders AUs of the Sinclair's.
It was Bo’s idea for the religious themed night, where he and Vincent would wear the white collars under the black shirts, fake blood on their hands and arms. They looked like fallen priests that last their path of the Lord, and Lester was the new shining hope that could bring them back. Lester’s black shirt was unbuttoned at the top to show off his rosary, and he was the only one not covered in fake blood. Father O’Connor gave the rosary to him in Ambrose before he and his brothers left on tour a few weeks ago. He didn’t feel comfortable with the theme of the night, but he was more than willing to try it out. Bo promised not to make fun of the Father’s gift because it met a lot to Lester. Father O’Connor was the one who made sure the boys felt welcome in the church going up, and he made sure all three know the Word back to front. Yes, Bo did resist it because of… personal reasons, but he still came to church every Sunday. But tonight’s theme was all his idea. It’s to promote the new album that’ll be coming out in three days, and the song lineup has three new never-before-heard songs.
He took another deep breath, nervousness filling his head to make him dizzy. He bit the inside of this lower lip hard enough to taste sweet iron and bitterness from the lack of sugar. If he could do back flips to get the nerves out, he would. He felt like he was going to throw-up on his boots, but he had to stop himself. Men don’t get nervous; that’s what his father taught him. What he would give just to hear his grandmother telling him that he was going to do good—
His thoughts were interrupted as Bo smacked his back a bit too hard, causing him to jump. His hand clenched the drumstick tightly until his knuckles turned white.
"Nervous much?” His brother hummed, his drawl in a joking matter. “I reckon you’ll do fine.” He held a devil-may-care grin, his bright blue eyes glowing from the smeared blood from his forehead. It didn’t make Lester cringe at the sight of his brother like this, but it did make him feel uneasy because it brought back a memory of when they lost—
Lester clinched his jaw tightly, swallowing the memory down his tight throat. He turned his attention back to the crowds screaming and getting hyped as the lights started to shine dimly in the fogy filled stage.
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