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Aug. 12th, 2010

Spike and Dru - *pounce*

Colors (A Collection) - 06. Silver.

06. Silver. (Lucinda – 1998)

fingers over my body makes me feel like a silver angel...Collapse )

It’s a hot and heavy industrial club, the kind that sports chains and leather the way that vanilla ones sport alcohol. There’s Nine Inch Nails blasting from the DJ’s stand, and there are scantily clad girls and boys grinding on stage and suspended from the ceiling.


She lives for this, the swaying and the music and the letting go. Right now, she’s dancing with Lyra and Shyla, and the heartbeats echoing around them are intoxicating, exhilarating. There are flurries of kisses all over her skin, and she doesn’t know whose lips belong to who. She just knows that they blend in with the humans this way, practically having sex on the dance floor in a constant quest for pleasure.


Time doesn’t exist. She’s eaten already, the whole Clan has, and she’s sated, happy to enjoy herself explicitly. At some point, Ryder strolls up to Lyra and kisses her bruisingly, and she reciprocates, her body pressed tightly against him. “I have someone to show you,” he purrs, and she leaves with him without looking back at her girls.


Now it’s just her and Shyla, and they’re still kissing, still enjoying themselves, still grinding against each other. And eventually, Shyla laughs breathlessly, murmurs something in her eat and making Arawn join them, and is gone, lost in the gyrating bodies, in the sweat and moans.


She doesn’t mind being alone. Loves it, actually. She feels freer than before, and the only thing this club requires of her is to dance. She adores this life – the pursuit of pleasure is the only thing worth living eternally for.


And suddenly, absolutely out of nowhere, there’s someone dancing with her. Her eyes are closed, and it’s only the heartbeat echoing in her ears, the hot sensation of skin on skin, the musky scent of girl in her nose, that lets her know that there’s someone else moving to the same beats, breathing in the same syncopation.


When she opens them, all she sees is a blur of red hair attached to a tiny, well-proportioned body clad in silver mesh in front of her. She grabs her hips and pulls her closer, attaches her lips to the closest part of skin she can reach – the redhead’s collarbone. The girl moans in ecstasy and her head falls back, giving her access to such an unforeseen amount of skin. The need thrums deep in her veins, and she shivers in anticipation.


“Out back?” she whispers directly in the girl’s ear, and she nods frantically, grabbing her hand and pulling her out a steel door into a seedy looking alley with trash strewn across the ground and a light flickering overhead.


She immediately reattaches herself to the girl’s neck, and this time it’s a gasp, as if the human needs this as much as the vampire does. It takes her a moment of concentration, but then her fangs are out, buried deep in lovely silken skin, and she’s guzzling down blood tainted with alcohol and adrenaline, and she can’t get enough. The girl holds her head to her, accepting the fact that she is a feast. Her soft mewls echoed through the night.


This? This was bliss.

fingers over my body makes me feel like a silver angel...Collapse )

Aug. 10th, 2010

Spike and Dru - *pounce*

Colors (A Collection) - Masterpost

A littlelong while back, I started an original piece of fiction. That story is next to dead, and even though the plot still lives in my head, I doubt it will be revived anytime soon. Unfortunately, the characters still pester me from time to time, which brought about this - a collection of one-shots, nearly drabbles, each based on a different color, each based on a different character. The scenes before you are something that were never going to be included in the actual piece of work itself; this is behind-the-scenes, just-a-glimpse stuff. And hopefully well written enough that it will keep your attention.

Some of this is a bit graphic. Some of it is a bit fluffy. Each of it is a taste, and none of it together will make a full meal. Sorry if it leaves you dissatisfied. I will post the rest as I finish them. Currently, it's half done.

01. Red. (Pierce - 1998)
02. Green. (Vlad - 2009)
03. Blue. (Lyra - 1908)
04. Brown. (Arawn - 2007)
05. Purple. (Jack - 2009)
06. Silver. (Lucinda - 1998)
07. Pink. (Valeria - 1964)
08. Gold. (Effie - 2007)
09. Black. (Ryder - 1893)
10. Yellow. (Zi - 2010)

Enjoy, my dears.
Spike and Dru - *pounce*

Colors (A Collection) - 05. Purple.

05. Purple. (Jack - 2009)

you stain this skin purple...Collapse )

Spike and Dru - *pounce*

Colors (A Collection) - 04. Brown.

04. Brown. (Arawn - 2007)


brown like the dirt you trod on, the dirt under which you're buried...Collapse )
Spike and Dru - *pounce*

Colors (A Collection) - 03. Blue.

03. Blue. (Lyra - 1908)


and my breathing races when you mention blue...Collapse )
Spike and Dru - *pounce*

Colors (A Collection) - 02. Green.

02. Green. (Vlad - 2009)


she was the brightest green I'd ever seen...Collapse )
Spike and Dru - *pounce*

Colors - 01. Red.

01. Red. (Pierce - 1998)

  the sea is wine red - this is the death of beauty...Collapse )

It burns. So bad.


And the bloodlust just keeps coming in waves. Powerful, all-encompassing, tsunami waves that just can’t quit, won’t quit, can’t seem to stop and he can’t seem to satiate this hunger, no matter how many people he drains, no matter how many bodies he drops into the ever-growing pile.


All the blood, pulsing red-hot through his dead veins, burns like a motherfucker. Like a heated poker shoved into snow.


But he needs more.


Distantly, he feels someone pat his head, speaking sweet words that would be condescending if he could hear them, but right now all he needs is blood. Thick, sweet, copper blood, leaking from his mouth, dripping and staining his shirt the red-brown of a rusted nail, falling onto the street.


The next victim is a girl he thinks, before he wrenches her head to the side. She cries, big sloppy tears that get caught on his face as he buries his head in the crook of her neck, taking a precious moment to savor that brand new and endlessly intoxicating smell of freshyoungfoodmine before he tears into her savagely. There is no delicate puncture and gentle sucking, no sophistication as shown by Hollywood. This is a wild animal, taking chunks of her red flesh into his mouth and swallowing them whole, messily lapping up the puddles of blood in her collarbone, trying to get as much as possible before her heart fails. She’s passed out from the pain, and the once human part of him thinks at least she didn’t die screaming.


Another and another passes through his grasp. The petting of his hair never ceases, the attempt at calming words not slackening for a moment. Finally, when it eases and the world goes back to normal shades instead of the red haze he had gotten so comfortable in, he blinks and looks around. There are at least a dozen carcasses stinking up the back alley, looking like they were assaulted by a rabid grizzly and then blown to pieces by a grenade launcher. A finger is resting against his new Vans, and with a snort of disgust he kicks it away. There is no way anyone is going to be able to cover up this mess, but he honestly can’t care.


A smaller, more delicate hand rests on his back, and he turns around, yawning and feeling suddenly so very sleepy. The two of them stand in front of him – his family, his new instincts assert – and the urge to trust them is so strong, even though he doesn’t know their names, barely knows their faces, that he allows the young girl with the barbiturate eyes to take his hand and the boy with a face made of porcelain to lead the way with a hand on the small of his back.


They settle him into their bed of red and black velvet sheets, and he sleeps.      

Oct. 26th, 2008

Spike and Dru - *pounce*

The Stripper Chronicles. (Prologue)

Title: The Stripper Chronicles
Author: indigoxmoon13 
Rating: PG-13 for now, possible NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/basically everyone...
POV: 3rd, Ryan-based
Summary: Ryan works for Pete Wentz at his stripping bar in New York called Angels and Kings. Night after night, he dances, and he loves it. But maybe, just maybe, he's missing something.
Disclaimer: I do not own. Pete is owned by MTV. Ryan and company are owned by Pete.
Author Notes: So, I'm gonna need a lot of urging on this one. Also in need of a beta. If you like it, please message.

Prelude.Collapse )

Sep. 16th, 2008

Spike and Dru - *pounce*

To Anyone That Reads...

There is currently a potientally amazing rp happening over at Freak Academy.

Vampires, werewolves, humans, living together in one high school...
Tell me that does not sound amazing.

Anyway, head on over to join us! It's bound to be great.


Aug. 24th, 2008

Spike and Dru - *pounce*


Title: Die.
Author: indigoxmoon13
Rating: R (for graphic descriptions of self harm and suicidal thoughts)
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: 3rd
Word Count: 1,151
Summary: Ryan's breakdown, memories, and dependence on one of the worst addictions of them all: cutting.
Disclaimer: Not mine, plotline based on one of a million people's story. Ryan and Brendon belong to Pete, as far as I'm aware.
Author's Notes: This is pretty upsetting and very angsty. Please do not read if you don't wish to experience this. Self-beta'd.


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