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#murderous daniel just hits different
spicysourchimken · 3 days
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Murder! Murder! Murder!
TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of death, murder, descriptions of corpses, gore and corpse desecration
(This Idea is loosely inspired by @/the-witchhunter's 'Ghost in the Morgue', please go check it out if you like this concept and have not yet read it)
[Other stuff in this AU: World Building]
Corpses au Danny, not just Corpse but Corpses. Every time Danny transforms he drops a new body, Danny honestly has lived with it long enough that it's funny at this point (and also. maybe made him a little weird about his own death and or deaths). This is not the same for Tim, who now has to deal with a potential serial killer.
Tim is looking into a string of strange and suspicious deaths that might point to the appearance of a new rogue, this results in him taking a visit to the morgue as Red Robin, only to meet a potential victim, Daniel Fenton the latest medical examiner for GCPD.
----
Tim was the one who had found the first body a week ago. He'd been on patrol when he'd spotted it propped up against a dumpster in an alley. It couldn't have been there longer than an hour, the blood was far too fresh.
Tim had planned to just check out the scene and call it in, but then he actually saw the body. It'd been eviscerated, torso ripped open organs spilling out and its hands had been frozen to the ground- hell the entire body seemed to be coated in a layer of frost.
Tim kept tabs on the investigation, if anything for simple curiosity. Then they'd found the second body. Body frozen to the ground, same victim profile- but the death had been completely different. Slashed throat, face mutilated.
Then there was another, and this time Tim wanted to see it in person. This was either a serial killer or the start of a new rogue, and for Tim to be able to tell he needed to see. He sent word to Gordon, if anything more of a warning. He was greeted by the medical examiner.
Greeted was a strong word.
The medical examiner was... strange. Tim had heard news of him starting work and as far as Tim was aware of he was clean, and an almost boring person. The medical examiner that Tim met was unnerving. Pale, staring almost through him and carried blase attitude to his work.
What was worse is that he reminded so much of a corpse, not just a corpse but the corpse.
Then it struck him.
Fenton could be a target. Fenton could be the focus of the killer's obsession.
He'd have to keep tabs on Fenton, too bad he might be the most reckless Gotham citizen in existence.
----
Gotham, admittedly hadn't been Danny's first pick after he finished medical school. Danny had always intended to become a medical examiner, dealing with your own corpses for years would do that do you. 'Finished' was the real problem, Danny had been doing well, great even but then he'd died. Twice. Real unfortunate really, hit and run and then poison, left him with a dry throat for weeks.
His own classmate apparently tried to kill him, which means it would be more than hard to actually finish medical school. That's fine, he had access to Tucker, an actual godsend who was able to make it look like he had all the proper qualifications... as long as you didn't look too hard.
Gotham was apparently pressed for a good medical examiner. All he needed to be was experienced.
Thankfully he had that in spades.
Things frankly only started going down hill last week. He'd made a habit of taking on requests between work, occultist avoided Gotham like the plague leaving him the only voice for the dead. Usually it was pretty easy gig, collect some momentos, help a few ghosts recognize they're dead. Until he'd had to deal with a Wraith.
It didn't go well. Danny was dead set on handling it as a human, appearing as Phantom could cause all matter of chaos. Danny had also not been informed that the claws of a wraith could pierce through human flesh so there's that. Danny was once again evicted from the mortal coil, dropping his own corpse and having to finish the fight off
Danny had planned to deal with his body after gaining his human form back and making sure that the thing could no longer return to the earthly plane. Turns out a bat got there first, turned the place into a crime scene. Just his luck he was beaten bloody enough to be unrecognizable.
His luck continued to go down hill when he was killed, not once, not twice but three times (this of course, wasn't accounting for the times he'd needed to go ghost). He'd gotten good at taking care of his bodies in Gotham at that point, or so he thought, until he was told he had not only a new body on his table and Red Robin waiting to be escorted to his morgue.
Now Danny has to juggle the growing chaos that it they spirits of Gotham while trying to make sure none of his bodies are identified, even if that means making a mess of Red Robin's investigations.
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phantom-0-writer · 8 months
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original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program
scene 1
table of contents
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scene 2: tim’s arch nemesis 
“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Alfred wished, as they all got out of the car. 
“Later, Alfred.” Duke waved as the car left the drop off zone.
The three of them walked together until Tim remembered the conversation from Bruce’s study. He peered over his shoulder at Damian who was trying to act nonchalant as he ditched the principal's office. Tim turned and stopped right in front of Damian ``Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” Sneaky little plans for a sneaky little kid, huh.
“Tsk.” He rolled his eyes at being caught 
Tim smirked at him, the words hillbilly civilians echoing in his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” 
“I was just on my way.” Damian said, trying to seem unbothered as he walked away. 
“Y’know one of these days he’s gonna snap and finally murder you.” Duke mused next to him, before they split into their separate hallways. 
“Better people than him have tried.” They shared a small laugh. Finding his usual seat in homeroom, Tim scrolled through his phone until class started. 
At the bell Ms. Kross stepped to the teacher’s podium to start the daily announcements. “Hello class, happy Wednesday.” She smiled at them, “You’re all chipper as usual,” she commented humorously to herself at the silent audience. “Well today is the day I’m sure all of you have been waiting anxiously for. Before I announce everyone’s placements after the midterms, I just want to remind you all that grades only matter so much in the grand scheme of things, and if you did not score as well as you would’ve liked, there's still time to do better.” Ms. Kross gave them the yearly pep talk, as the system booted. 
Tim had been attending Gotham Academy since the first grade, and he was familiar with the ins and outs of the system now, as opposed to the many students that often filtered in and out of the Academy. Gotham Academy is one of the best schools on this side of the coast and many affluent families would send their kids here. So naturally the Academy was incredibly competitive and so much as one point could move you from 5th place to 50th. 
The competitive atmosphere of Gotham Academy had never been too hard of a burden on Tim’s shoulder. Since grade 3 Tim has easily been placed first in his grade without so much as a sweat, no matter the amount of Robin, or Red Robin responsibilities on his shoulders. Knowing this year would be no different, Tim let his chair lean back leisurely as his other classmates sat forward in anticipation. 
“With no further ado, this year’s first place as for now is Daniel Fenton.” Yup, just like every other- Wait. 
“What?” Tim asked, the front two legs of his chair hitting the floor hard. Tim looked at the screen in disbelief, only to have his suspicions confirmed. 
“Mr. Drake, is there a problem?” Mr. Kross asked, surprised. 
“Are you sure this is right?” Tim asked incredulously pointing an accusing finger at the screen, there's no way that he- Timothy Drake - placed second?
“Yes, Mr. Drake, I assure you this sheet has been double, triple, even quadruple checked. There are no errors.” Ms. Kross smiled exasperatedly. 
Ms. Kross continued down the list of names in the class, announcing their places but Tim wasn’t paying attention. Tim glared at the spreadsheet at the front of the class, waiting for it to correct itself. But no changes were made. The name placed at the top of the list had been burned into Tim’s skull. 
Who the fuck is Daniel James Fenton? 
----
Bonus:
Bruce waited his turn in the pick up line, ready to see his kids' surprise when they found out that he came to pick them up instead of Alfred. When it was finally his turn to pull up to the curb he smiled happily as Tim, Damian and Duke entered the car. 
“Surprise.” Bruce smiled at them.
“Oh, Bruce. Alfred didn’t come today?” Duke asked with a smile. 
“Nope!” He said driving into the street. “Since it’s just us today, how about we go grab ice cream?” Bruce offered, looking at his passengers in the rearview mirror. 
“Ooh ice cream after school!” Duke cheered. 
“I could appreciate some ice cream.” Damian nodded from his seat. 
“Oh how did meeting Daniel go today, Damian?” Bruce remembered. 
“It was fine. Daniel is not entirely despicable.” Bruce blinked in surprise, Damian seemed to have taken a great liking to the kid if he was already calling him by his first name, especially on day one. “Not entirely despicable” and “it was fine” in Damian-speak usually meant that he had had a phenomenal time. 
“That’s great, buddy.” Bruce turned to tell him when he stopped at a red light. “Duke, how was your Chemistry Test?” 
“It went okay, I think. We’ll just have to wait till the results come out, I guess.” Duke shrugged. 
Bruce nodded at the information. He was doing a good job. Engage, Assess, Appreciate. That’s what Dick had said. 
Tim. There was something today, he had mentioned it offhandedly. What was it? Right! The placement release. 
“Tim, how did your-”
“Shut up.” Tim seethed from the back seat. Bruce saw the irritation radiating off of him and decided that today, nor any day, would he be ready to deal with that.
“Ok.”
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A DC X DP IDEA #3 Oh Brother,
Imagine dis…
 We all read and heard about the lost son of Bruce Wayne and also the Lost twin of Damian Al Ghul Wayne. 
 But what about the lost brother of Bruce Wayne?
 On the night of the 26th of June, The young Bruce Wayne didn’t just lose his parents but also his brother. After murdering both of their parents the gunman, Joe Chill turned his attention to the boys, one young teen who could not be older than 16 keeping his young 8-year-old from seeing the corpse of their parents. Thinking that it is better to leave the scene with no witness fired two more rounds in the direction of the children and quickly turned tail.
 Daniel Wayne covered his little brother’s body from the bullets catching the two rounds with his own body. Catching the horrified look of his younger brother, feeling the blood in his mouth as well the fact that his own body is shaking from what had just happened in a matter of minutes. Grabbed his brother’s shoulders, smiled, and hugged him so tight as he knows that his brother is not allowed to follow him or his parents to the afterlife for a long time.
 As his consciousness fades he catches the teary-eyed brother of his, trying to catch him before he hits the pavement.
 …
 Clockwork frowns at the timelines between the two realms, one who is not supposed to exist, exists while the other who is supposed to be born is not to be born thus collapsing the timeline of both realms but with the recent development to the other realm made him have a difficult choice. Guiding the young Daniel’s soul to the other realm to replace what was lost.
 …
 Danny grew up feeling missing something, with absentee parents and a parent sibling it's no wonder what he would have missed. 
 Maybe he missed the times when his parents were actual parents to them instead of focusing their attention on their machines.
 Maybe it is the life he had before the tragic accident that changed him.
 Maybe it is the normality between him being a ghost hero and being a normal teen.
 But…
 Every time he saw two brothers playing near Casper High, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing.
 His ghostly core and human heartache for the familiar setting to the point he kept seeing a younger “double” of himself.
 Don’t get him wrong he can create clones of himself to help him during fights but this “double” is different from him he looked like someone he missed so dearly while he looked like someone who has the same delicate face as him.
 Which would be impossible if it was always been him and Jazz alone in the house full of things that could potentially end his existence.
 The phantom pain he would feel from bullets on a specific month, day, and time, instead of electricity made him quickly go to Frostbite and Clockwork.
 Frostbite explained that it is quite normal for a newly formed ghost to feel the phantom pains of its reason for death.
 But he died from electrocution, not from bullets.
He went to Clockwork but the moment he saw the figure of his grandfather mentor he couldn’t help but sense a feeling of dread.
 …
 Clockwork knew that in each timeline there would be a day and time for his grandson apprentice to ask about such ire that had been bothering him ever since he became a halfa. Each time he tried to prolong the inevitable but it seems that he was caught off guard for today. 
 …
 Clockwork explained to Danny his crimes to him and his soul. How the Master of time itself forced him to live a life just after he had ended his first one.
 Danny’s mind may have had a million thoughts at the time but at that moment he only cared about two things.
 Who has he been before and what happened to his brother?
 Clockwork explained He was Daniel Thomas Wayne the firstborn son in the union of Martha and Thomas Wayne. He used to live in a manor with his family grandfather/butler, he gained a little brother that was named Bruce Wayne. On the day of his former death day, his brother kept pestering their parents to go to the movies as they have been busy and Bruce felt that he was alone, being loving parents they indulged Bruce in his pestering as they too noticed them being too busy. On the night they went to Crime Alley for a shortcut to Wayne manor, they were ambushed and killed, and his parents were.
 Shakingly, Danny begged to see Bruce, his core ached for his missing family, his brother. Bruce his little brother, hoped that he didn’t follow, he hoped that he is doing fine.
 Clockwork didn’t respond but showed him a one-way mirror-view of his former dimension. There the mirror shows a familiar dining room, with a grown man who has black hair and striking blue eyes talking to a younger boy named Jason as Alfred serves Bruce’s morning coffee.
 Danny could not help but smile, his little brother is all grown-up. Starting a little family of his own, Danny’s only request is to be able to visit Clockwork’s haunt to observe his little brother.
 Each visit made him learn more about the man his little brother turned into.
 He turned into a vigilante protecting the people in Gotham, his favorite soup stayed the same despite the fact he used to eat that soup with someone else, he has an adoption issue (He could not blame him though, not when he adopted both Dan and Dani), then his little brother went and adopted a sentiment starfish from outer space, that he owes his nephews and nieces a ton of gifts from missing their milestones, and many more…
 But he wished that he was there as well…
 When Jason died at the hands of Joker, when he was lost in the time stream, when he learned that he missed a decade's worth of his “blood” son’s life, the death of Damian, not protecting Barbara from being shot by the Joker, letting his demons run his life…
 He just wished he was there to hold his little brother in his arms as he protect him from the dangers of the world just like he had done when he was Daniel protecting Bruce from his nightmares as well the monsters under his bed.
 After a reveal went wrong he gathered up his human friends and flee toward the zone after destroying everything related to ghosts and the realms.
 Taking up the mantle of Ghost king he made sure that he still have time to observe his family on the other dimension.
 …
 Meanwhile, in the DC universe, Ra Al Ghul and Lex Luther had created a bioweapon that turns ordinary people into some sort of zombie slaves of the Lazarus pit minus the death part of being a zombie. Things got out of hand both villains and heroes are scrambling to contain the bioweapon virus as well as looking for a cure as it has spread from Gotham, Metropolis, Star City, and more big-name cities. They could not merely kill the infected just like in a movie from a zombie apocalypse as they are still alive.
 Symptoms include glowing green veins that are seen as well pupil-less eyes in addition to an extra boost in strength, as the infected multiply by having an open wound be infected by the green veins that produce some sort of green murky blood aka the Lazarus pits.
 Danny saw the predicament of his home dimension and decided to intervene, with the approval of his court. He entered the dimension, and as he turned into his human half he noticed that his age was regressed to the time he was murdered.
 The infected ignored and followed his commands as per his position, avoiding any confrontation with his brother or any supers that might demand him why the infected are ignoring him, he pretended to be infected that can think and speak as well that was raised from the dead.
 It was quite easy for him to pretend on the glowing veins as pure ectoplasm flowed through his veins. He just made sure that he is always a glowing green glowstick.
 Walking around in a zombie apocalypse is less fun than he thought it would be, grabbing a backpack that was discarded he filled it up with weapons and started his journey at the foot to look for the cure.
 (Thoughts of seeing his brother made him fill his head full of possibilities)
 On his way to Gotham, he saw his nephew (Tim) surrounded by infected and about to wound him when he immediately snatched him to safety. Seeing the deep eye bags of his nephew he let him rest at his makeshift safe house as he guarded Tim he can't help but wonder why on earth he was out in the open.
 …
 Tim groaned awake as he remembered what had just happened in a few months. Ra’s and Lex made a bio-hazard weapon that was made from the Lazarus pits (Which made him wonder which of the two thought that was a good idea as the Lazarus pits are still a mystery to the Batclan as well to the world) and went out of hand thus ended up having the Justice League cleaning up their mess.
 He remembered being surrounded by the infected after his usual recon, he was pretty sure he broke a rib and his arm as running away from the horde or getting them with tranquilizer darts were the only options, he was sure that it was his end.
 When he woke up he didn’t expect to be still infected free nor the infected teen, who is a blue-eyed black-haired teen, definitely a Wayne bait, in front of him trying to bandage him.
 After the initial confusion and panic and the conversation, he concluded that the bio weapon had evolved to the point of reviving dead teens.
 (Seeing what the Lazarus pit had done to Jason and Ra was not far fetch)
 The teen who introduced himself as Danny woke up somewhere which was near Metropolis and stated that he was nowhere near his hometown nor where he was buried initially and was walking around to find more humans as he was pretty sure when he died zombie apocalypse are nothing more than fantasy as well the supers are but fictions as he kept reading the latest yet tossed out newspapers, which explains the newspapers in the corner and had concluded that it has been more than 2 decades since he died.
 He made an offer to Tim that he couldn’t possibly refuse, he could help him return where he was as the infected tend to ignore him thus having a guide and bodyguard in his injured state as well a specimen that can talk and walk around cities without having the risk of being infected, in return he just needs help in finding his brother.
 After a long tenacious walk to Gotham, both bond over small talks, jokes, and camping as well as filling up Danny with what he had missed in the decade while he was 6 feet under.
 Tim learned that Danny adored his little brother and wished to see him one last time before going back to the dead.
 …
 Bruce was worried, Tim was supposed to time in a few hours back. He along with the rest of the bats and the Justice League members were lucky enough to escape and regroup at a later date. Sitting in one of the fortified safe houses with a few infected being wandered.
 When he was about to check the communication for the umpteenth time the cameras caught something. Immediately all went to the monitor to have a better look at what had just tripped their alarm. There is Tim wounded and bandaged but still infected free, which gave relief to the Batclan behind him on the other hand caused worries.
 An Infected teen behind Tim follows him while looking around him, upon closer inspection they can see the boy’s eyes despite being infected. Some of the Justice League thought that Tim may have found someone who has at least some sort of immunity to the Infected.
 The Batclan on the other hand caught sight of Bruce stiffening along with Alfred. Both seemed to look at the infected teen with familiarity. Luckily that the cameras had audio and played the live feed.
 Tim was talking to the mystery teen about meta-human rights while the mystery teen kept nodding along. Tim asked about the mystery teen’s little brother which the teen brighten up and talked about his little brother’s pranks towards their father every time he left them on their own devices like melting crayons on top of his shoes to adding color according to his little brother. As well as the fact he made a special lullaby just for him.
 The mystery teen began to hum an unfamiliar tune to those who are watching except Alfred and Bruce, Alfred was ready to cry while Bruce made a face that both his co-workers and children never saw him make.
 Bruce’s mind immediately supplied the missing lyrics while the mystery teen kept humming along.
 If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea
I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
I've got you brother-er-er-er
I've got you brother-er-er-er
I've got you brother-er-er-er
I've got you brother-er-er-er
 As they were nearing the armed gate of the safe house, Tim asked what is his little brother’s name was as once this was over he was willing to pass the message. 
 The mystery teen smiled sadly and said fondly… oh brother,
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Danny thought the guy Tucker had dragged over to talk tech with was cute but there was something...off about him. He seemed nervous but not in a "a ghost is about to attack way" but in the subtle ways he checked the exits every so often or the way he made his body language purposely relaxed.
Sam would say he's just being paranoid since Tim Drake was the adopted son of a billionaire (and independently wealthy too) and Danny did not trust billionaires or wealthy people in general. Danny still felt something was off.
Seeing as Tucker and Tim were hitting it off he decided to leave them to it and continued to manage his own stall at the glorified science fair Bruce Wayne was sponsoring. Billionaire or not he really wanted that scholarship to Gotham University. He had pulled out the best designs he could make such as a fully functional portal gun, some variation of wrist rays that did different things and were disguised as normal watches, force field shield generators designed into bracelets, and even a modified version of of the fenton thermos that instead of working on ghosts it worked on physical matter such as chairs and other items...and it wasn't disguised as a soup container!
He preemptively put a note on it that it wasn't safe or designed for the containment or travel of organic beings.
He had some other things too, but these seemed to be the ones Tim were the most fascinated with. He asked a lot of questions to Tucker who happily chatted with him about the tech up until he asked a question Tucker didn't know the answer to and he turned to ask Danny.
Danny answered without looking up from the metal boots he was working on. They were going to allow the user to jump to great heights and deliver electrified high powered kicks. Tim then asked if Tucker wasn't the one who made these.
Tucker laughed and told him it was all Danny and jokingly mentioned that Dannys parents were evil mad scientists, hence his move to Gotham. Tim looked...alarmed. Danny pointed his screw driver at Tucker in warning, "What Tuck means is that I wanted to get away from the stigma of my parents being criminals, which is why telling everybody is counterproductive."
Tucker sheepishly apologized and admitted he had gotten carried away. Danny didn't think Bruce Wayne would disqualify him for having crappy parents but hes been treated pretty badly for less. Tim made an excuse to leave which Danny took as a bad sign. Crap. But he still had some confidence seeing as his inventions had caught the attention of Tim and kept it for so long. That had to mean something right?
---
Phantom knew that Gotham was "Batmans" territory and he didn't like others interfering on his turf but there was something so unnerving about Tim. He needed to find out more. He may have only been in this dimension for a few months but something smelling fishy had the same meaning in all the dimensions he's come across before.
So when he phased into Tim Drakes apartment under the cover of invisibility and found the cold case files of several murdered individuals going back the last two years alarm bells started to ring in his head. Last he checked Tim was in no way affiliated with the GPD and shouldn't have access to these. Then he noticed he had jewelry matching what one of the victims was wearing in thier photo. The same antique necklace that was noted to be missing from the victims body in the report. Upon further investigation Tim also seemed to have the murder weapons for a few of the crimes as well.
Wtf.
Tim Drake was a serial killer.
---
Tim stared at the batcomputer. He now had no doubt that "Daniel Nightengale" was some form of alias. It was a well crafted one he could give him that but after days of meticulous digging he found an inconsistency. Following that led to another and another until he finally had enough to unravel the lie.
Unfortunately it didn't give him a single clue towards the truth, at least not that he could see.
Yet.
All the same, Tucker didn't seem to realize the situation he was in. It was clear Daniel was dangerous if the gear he had at the presentation was anything to go by. Some of that stuff could give Bruce a run for his money.
Tim was sure Danny was up to something and would strike soon. Mad scientists usually have some sort of goal in mind after all.
---
This kicks off a period were Danny and Tim keep trying to stalk one another both in and out of costume. Both of them making flimsy excuses to escape one another- Tim because he's needed as Robin/Red Robin and Danny because he doesn't want to be murdered or outed as a "meta"
Jason finds out about both of thier suspensions by stalking them both as civilians and laughs until he cries. He then throws fuel on the fire by planting "evidence" that would point to Danny being evil/a serial killer such as hacking into dannys laptop while Tim is "visiting" Dannys apartment while he's away and making the screen show partial blueprints labeled "Death Ray Plans" only for the computer to crash when Tim tries to click on it, thus erasing everything.
He messes with Danny in a similar way, planting fake bloodsplatter in Tim's kitchen around the sink and watching the metas horrified face via Tims security cameras that he hacked into before later breaking in to clean it back up before his little brother got home.
Jason doesn't think he's ever had this much fun.
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mikavlcs · 1 year
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Purity Weeps
Pairing: Ghostface!Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: You don’t talk about home very often and Tara finds out why.
Warnings: violence, gore, murder, domestic abuse, manipulation, tara is a terrible person, bad parents, repeated words and phrases
Word count: 7.7k (god...)
Notes: this is a request, i changed it up a bit so it could fit with the first part but the general gist is there. i also wrote like half of this with food poisoning so sorry in advance...
Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3 
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One thing Tara noticed about you was that you never talked about home.
You had no problem talking about yourself—your various likes and dislikes were something Tara had memorized within weeks of your arrival to Woodsboro—but you never talked about your family.
She only knew the most basic details. You lived with your parents. You had no siblings despite your longing for one. Your house was exactly six and a half blocks away from hers. And recently, you told her that your parents were getting divorced, something you seemed almost relieved about.
That was it. Even her knowledge about your parents was equivocal.
Your mother she’d met a handful of times when she picked you up from school before Tara designated herself your personal chauffeur. A polite woman, if a bit aloof. Never quite meeting Tara’s eyes when she talked, but she liked her well enough.
Your father, on the other hand, remained an enigma to her.
The only time she’d ever seen him was on your first day off school when he dropped you off. In the time since, he hadn’t been present for any school events with you and your mother. Not even a picture. He remained but a silhouette in her memory, and that made the situation all the eerier to her.
And you barely spoke a word about him either, only bringing him up when it was getting late, and you wanted Tara to take you home.
“My dad wants me home by eight,” you’d say and when Tara hesitated, wanting more time alone with you, you would follow it up with a quiet, “Please, Tara, I can’t be late.”
No matter how Tara felt about you having to leave, the tremble in your voice would have her grabbing her keys within seconds.
She always saw the way you shuffled in your seat when you were cutting it just a bit too close, sending anxious glances toward the clock.
There were even times, back when Tara wasn’t taking the situation quite as seriously as she should have been, when you would get out of the car without a goodbye, practically running into your house.
It angered Tara initially, that you had such strict rules being placed on you that were visibly afraid to break them, but with time that anger gave way to concern.
Your overly timid mannerisms when she brought up your family, the tight leash your father had on you, the anxiousness on display when you tugged a little too hard on that leash—it all painted a rather grim picture.
Her concern hit its peak when, after being together for a few months and friends for even longer, Tara realized that she had never been inside your house. She had seen the outside of it countless times when she picked you up and dropped you off throughout the week, but she had never seen the interior.
Why that specific revelation unsettled her so much, she wasn’t sure but it stuck with her.
 Tara was used to being able to see her enemies. Amber, Daniel, Rowan, and Jason were all people she knew, people she saw eyeing you in a way they shouldn’t have been, touching you when you weren’t theirs.
Your father was something different. A man she had never once met or seen. Someone she was almost sure was hurting you in some way but without proof, she wasn’t able to confidently act.
This wasn’t a problem she could just stab to death. At least, not without having potentially catastrophic effects on you and your mental health.
So she was going to try something different. She began making plans but every idea she came up with ended up being scrapped. Nothing she came up with felt right.
Tara did not at all care for rules and boundaries. Made up guidelines that served no purpose other than to irritate her. Imaginary lines in the sand that were made to be crossed. She permanently left those behind the moment she donned the Ghostface mase. But when it came to you, she took them very seriously.
The thought of breaking your heart and trust is what made her once again adhere to the made-up rules, what kept her feet firmly planted on the right side of the line in the sand.
It’s what kept her from breaking into your house and surveilling you and your family. What held her back from slitting the elusive man’s throat with no remorse. She couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you or driving you away from her.
But the idea of doing nothing didn’t sit well with her either.
Other, non-violent plans took form. She tried to be more direct, asking you about your father, what he was like, how close the two of you were.
You didn’t shy away from her questions but the answers you gave were always vague. Just enough to qualify as an answer, but not enough to give Tara any real information to work with.
When she realized she wasn’t getting results, she pivoted and decided to put more emphasis on being supportive. Reiterating how she would always be there for you and that if needed, you could tell her anything.
But no matter what she did, the curfew never budged and your avoidant attitude about your home life never changed. It was starting to get to Tara.
She wanted to believe that you trusted her enough to tell her if something was going on at home. But at the same time, if her suspicions were correct, there was much more to it than simply trust.
Sam would likely tell her to call the police, and that might be an option Tara considered if she had a modicum of trust in the Woodsboro police force to handle the situation correctly. But she didn’t. Law enforcement in Woodsboro had become a joke ever since Dewey stepped down as sheriff.
And she knew that if this situation didn’t get handled correctly, then whatever possible abuse you were enduring would get worse in the aftermath.
For the first time in her life, Tara was stuck. She had no idea what to do.
She was frozen in place, stuck in an endless loop of watching and waiting. Watching and waiting. Watching and waiting.
It was maddening.
Part of her, Ghostface she supposed, wanted to just gut him and get it over with. Like she’d done to everyone else that had been in this position. But if she was wrong,
So she was stuck. Suspended in time and space, unable to do anything but her set routine.
Watch and wait.
Watch and wait.
Watch and wait.
Until something, or someone, broke the cycle.
-
Today wasn’t a great day for Tara.
It started it off well enough. You stayed glued to her side all day, your attention completely on her just as she liked it. She didn’t catch anyone staring at you or trying to talk to you.
Hell, not even Wes tried to bug you throughout the day like he usually did.
It really was going so well.
But then at the last second, you canceled your usual Friday movie date with Tara, citing an urgent family issue. She had driven you home after school without complaint because she knew it wasn’t your fault, and you looked just as upset about it as she did, but she was still bitter.
She needed her time alone with you. You were an addiction that she could hardly keep at bay. Withdrawal symptoms began to set in before you were even gone.
Those symptoms were raging within her now, hours later. It was somewhere around midnight. Sam left only a few hours prior because she liked working night shifts for some reason, so Tara took the opportunity to have another Stab marathon.
She was about halfway through Stab 2 and debating whether or not to just call it a night. It wasn’t like she wasn’t enjoying it—Stab movies never got old to Tara, but the fact that you were supposed to be there with her taunted her, sucking the excitement out of her.
At some point near the third act, she allowed her thoughts to stay on you, disregarding the film entirely.
Lately, she hadn’t been able to spend too much time alone with you after school. The newly finalized divorce was your ongoing reasoning. Your father was moving out and you were helping him pack his things.
You seemed both relieved and conflicted but Tara, of course, was overjoyed about this development. The cycle she was in was being broken without her needing to intervene. Soon, both you and her would be free of this.
And once he was gone, you could spend as much time with Tara as you wanted. That was something she needed to constantly remind herself of when you canceled plans because she missed you.
Hopefully whatever issues you were dealing with (having something to do with your father, no doubt) didn’t take all weekend.
If it did, this would be one of the first weekends you spent without her since Amber’s untimely death. And if she missed you now, she couldn’t imagine how much worse it would get over the coming days.
Her rambling thoughts were interrupted by your familiar ringtone.
She hurried to pick up her phone. Maybe she had caught a break. Maybe your family issue wasn’t urgent after all.
She brought the phone up to her ear and answered with her usual, “Hey, baby.”
But instead of being greeted by your sweet “hellos” or melodic laughter, she was met with what sounded like frantic sobbing.
Immediately, Tara was on her feet, searching for her keys while she tried to figure out what was happening.
“What’s going on? Are you hurt?!”
You tried to blubber out an answer, but it wasn’t anything she could remotely begin to decipher. Snatching her keys off the kitchen counter, she tried to ask again. “Take a deep breath. Can you repeat that for me?”
She heard you take in and release a shaky breath. “T-Tara, I…i-it’s my dad, he’s…” More cries echoed from the phone speakers, urging Tara to move faster. “Please, I don’t-I didn’t mean to.”
That set off alarm bells in Tara’s head. What did you mean?
“Just stay on the phone with me, ok? Don’t hang up. I’m on my way,” she hurried out as she stepped into her shoes, not even bothering to tie the laces. She was out the door and in the car in seconds, her raw panic nearly driving her to hysteria.
The call dropped as she backed out of her driveway, cutting you off mid-sentence. Tara’s heart stopped and only restarted when she noticed that her phone was dead. She took her own advice and took a deep breath.
She needed to get to you. Now.
Tara made it to your house in record time. She left her keys in the ignition, barely remembering to close the car door before she was running up to the door, grabbing the spare key she knew your mother kept under the potted plant by the doormat, and unlocking it.
The moment she stepped inside she froze.
Whatever she was expecting paled in the face of what she was met with on the other side of your door.
A man, presumably your father, lay limp on the floor. The back of his skull was caved in against the edge of the glass coffee table in front of the couch, staining the table and the carpet beneath it an achingly familiar shade of crimson.
After getting over the shock, Tara’s eyes were drawn to you standing a few feet away, looking unsteady on your feet.
Shamefully, her first thought was how amazing you looked with someone else’s blood on you. A depraved part of her was excited by the sight.
But that excitement was quickly drowned out by her concern at your state. To put it simply, you looked forlorn. Tears cascaded down your face in seemingly endless waves. Your eyes were flitting between your father’s body and your blood-stained hands, breaths coming in short, panicked bursts. You were shaking so vigorously that Tara was afraid your legs would give out, finally prompting her to move.
Slowly, Tara stepped inside and softly closed the door behind her. The sound of it, though quiet, still made you flinch. Your head turned, and once your eyes met hers, she saw some awareness creep back in.
“T-Tara,” you sputtered. She smiled sweetly and cautiously approached you, putting her body between you and your father’s corpse.
From this close, she could see the beginnings of large bruises blooming across your neck and upon closer inspection, she saw how heavily the outlines of the darkening marks resembled fingers.
Red clouded Tara’s vision. The familiar burn of her rage rose within her, but she forced her voice to be soft and soothing. The last thing you needed right now was her anger.
“Hi, sweetheart. Can you tell me what happened?”
“He-he tried to…” Your words broke off into choked sobs. But you didn’t need to finish. The bruises on your neck told her everything she needed to know.
“He-I wanted him off. So I pushed him and h-he…He tripped and…” You trailed off, eyes refocusing on the body over her shoulder. She saw the anguish rising and put a stop to it.
“Hey, no. Don’t look at that.” She brought you into her arms, guiding your face to her neck. You nestled into her instantly, clutching onto her like a lifeline as you wept once more. The blood on your hands was staining her shirt, something she took note of while she wrapped her arms around you.
Tara held you close, softly running one hand up and down your back while the other held your head. On the outside, she made sure she appeared calm and comforting, but on the inside, she was anything but.
Pure, unadulterated fury surged through her. Usually, Tara loved being proven right, loved the satisfaction and vindication that came with it. But this time she could feel nothing but malignancy because he tried to strangle you.
And the fact that you had to be the one to kill him deeply infuriated her.
A death at the hands of an angel was far, far better than he ever deserved.
She wished his heart would somehow restart, just so she could have the pleasure of making his last breath as painful as it should have been.
Better yet, she wished she could have gotten to him before he laid his hands on you.
Tara allowed herself, briefly, to daydream about what she would’ve done. A man like that didn’t even deserve the time it took to plan an intricate murder, so she would have kept it simple. Slow, excruciating exsanguination. Death by a thousand torturously shallow cuts as she forced him to keep his eyes open, so the tears could flow unimpeded. So she could watch the life slowly drain from his eyes.
So she could see the terror on his face when, instead of an angel, he spent his last fleeting moments staring into the eyes of the devil.
Your voice broke her out of her fantasies.
“What am I gonna do, Tara?” you sobbed into her neck. “I-I…he’s dead. And I did that.”
Tara hugged you closer and let you cry for a few minutes. It was painful to listen to, but she needed to put her focus on formulating a plan. Plus, it was probably good for you to let it out anyways.
While you wept, Tara took stock of the situation.
There was one body. Cause of death was a fatal head wound which meant there was lots of blood to clean. Luckily, you had a carpet to soak it up. A quick glance told her that nothing else appeared to have any blood splatter, significantly lessening the amount of cleaning she would need to do.
But even with all that in mind, she still had to find a way to get rid of the body. And that would be a tall task to undertake on her own.
There was also the matter of your mother’s whereabouts. Her car was in the driveway. Tara’s car was parked right beside it, so she had to be around here somewhere.
She decided to concentrate on locating her first. Both to make sure she wasn’t informing anyone else about the situation and because, as much as Tara hated to admit it, she would need help with disposing of the body in a timely manner.
Your father could wait a bit. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere anytime soon anyways.
With her mind made up, Tara gently pulled you back and cradled your face between your hands. “Do you know where your mother is, sweetheart?”
You blinked then looked away, biting your lip in concentration as you thought about the question. A smile pulled at Tara’s lips at the sight. Even now, you managed to be cute. You looked back a moment later, shaking your head shamefully. Tara just gave you an encouraging smile.
“That’s ok. I’ll find her,” she assured, wiping your tears with her thumbs.
You sniffed. “You will?”
“Yeah.” She looked around, eyes landing on the couch. Gently, she brought you to the back of it, guiding you to sit with your back against it. “Wait here for me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
A nod, and you were burying your face in your knees, your shoulders starting to shake again. Tara wanted to comfort you but there was work that needed to be done, so she set her mind to the task at hand and began her search.
It didn’t take very long.
She found your mother in the kitchen, only a room over from where you were. The woman was curled into a ball by the stove, blank eyes staring out into space.
Tara’s brows shot up. Had she been there the entire time?
“Hey,” she called out, staying a healthy distance away.
No reaction. Tara sighed, looked at the clock on the stove.
12:17 a.m.
There was no time for this. Tara knelt down before the woman, getting directly in her line of sight. That worked and her gaze slowly drifted to Tara’s.
“Are you hearing me?” she asked.
Her inquiry was met with a languid nod. Good, Tara thought. She decided to ask her most pressing question next.
“Did you call anyone?”
Sluggishly, the woman shook her head. Tara let out a silent sigh of relief. Not having to worry about police made this a bit easier, but getting rid of a body on such short notice was still going to be a challenge.
“You were in here the entire time?” She couldn’t resist asking, needing to know if your own mother just sat by and listened while you were being attacked.
She averted her eyes away from Tara’s, choosing not to respond. But the silence itself was an answer, and not one that Tara liked. Her muscles tensed instinctively, fingers curling into fists, but she forced herself to relax.
After a breath, she asked, “Are you hurt?”
Another silent shake of her head and Tara had enough of this conversation.
“Then you are going to get up and help me help your daughter. Do you understand?” she gritted out, colder than she probably should have been.
For a long moment, your mother said nothing. The silence made Tara’s jaw clench painfully. Eventually, she gave another painstakingly slow nod, but the tension within Tara still remained.
Realistically, she knew your mother wasn’t entirely to blame for this situation, likely being a victim herself, but she had knowingly allowed you to get hurt. And there was no forgiveness for that. Not for Tara.
Still, she needed the woman’s help right now if she wanted everything taken care of in a timely manner, so she relaxed her jaw and scrubbed away the impatience in her tone.
“Good. Stay here, I need to take care of something real quick.”
Tara was striding out of the room before she had the chance to respond. Rounding the couch, she found you again. You had your knees pressed to your chest, mirroring your mother’s position.
With a sweet smile, she crouched down in front of you.
“Hey, I found your mom.”
Your eyes widened. “Is she ok?”
“Yeah, she’s fine,” she affirmed, bringing a hand up to your shoulder. “I need you to listen to me carefully, ok?”
“Ok,” you mumbled.
“Go upstairs and take a shower. Put these clothes in a plastic bag and leave the bag in the bathroom. Then you can go lay down in your bed and rest. I’ll come up when I’m finished.”
“What are you gonna do?” You sounded scared, she wanted to alleviate that fear.
“Your mom and I are going to take care of your dad.”
You still looked hesitant. Tara brought her hand up to trace your jaw, stared deep into your eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” you answered immediately, making Tara smile.
“Then I need you to do as I say right now. Everything is going to be ok.”
“Promise?” you whispered. Your red eyes and quivering form made for a truly heartbreaking sight. One that Tara hoped she would never have to see again.
With a tender smile, she said, “Yeah, baby, I promise.”
She planted a kiss on your forehead then pulled you to your feet. You lingered for a fleeting moment before following Tara’s orders and heading up to the bathroom. Once Tara heard your footsteps upstairs, she went back to the kitchen.
Your mother was exactly where Tara left her. The smaller girl barely spared her a glance as she spoke.
“Alright, I’m going to need you to gather some things for me.”
Finally, she spoke up for the first time, feeble and low. “You have a…plan?”
At the question, the younger girl paused. She definitely didn’t, but she needed to come up with something, and quickly. She began brainstorming.
She had neither the time nor the tools to try the more elaborate methods of disposal that she’d seen in movies over the years. Things like cutting the body up and hiding the pieces, or melting the body with chemicals were off the table.
So she went with the easiest, least time-consuming plan that came to mind.
Turning, she said, “I need the largest bag you have, a shovel, a sheet, a hat, a bandana, a shirt, a pair of gloves, and your car keys.”
Your mother’s brows raised in disbelief. “My car keys?”
“Yes,” Tara answered, an equal amount of disbelief in her tone. There was no way she was going to potentially get your father’s DNA in her car. She wasn’t stupid. “Do you need me to write all of that down for you?”
She stared at Tara with that disconcerting look again before shaking her head and leaving to gather the items Tara asked for. While she was gone, Tara ventured to the kitchen, searching all of the cabinets until she found plastic wrap.
Returning to the body, Tara lifted your dad’s head off the carpet, careful to get as little blood on her as possible, and began wrapping the plastic around it. Layer after layer of plastic wrap was wound around his head as tightly as Tara could make it, using the entire roll to be safe.
She was just finishing up when your mother returned, the various things Tara requested in her arms. All but the shovel, Tara noticed. A large duffel bag was set down beside her, and Tara glanced up just in time to see her still.
“What are you doing?” she asked, eyeing Tara with a queasy look. Tara’s fist clenched. She hated being interrupted while working.
“I’m wrapping his head so his brains don’t leak out inside of your car,” she explained flatly, shifting briefly to give the woman an annoyed look. “Unless you want that in your trunk?”
She paled, shaking her head vigorously. Her complexion was looking a bit green by the time she regained her train of thought. “The uh, t-the shovel is in the basement.”
Tara blinked. “Then go get it.”
A hurried nod and your mother was practically running to the basement. Tara rolled her eyes.
She took a long look at the bag beside her. It was a bit smaller than she would’ve liked, but it could work with the right positioning.
Taking advantage of your mother’s absence, Tara stripped her bloodied shirt off and shrugged the new one on. It was a simple t-shirt, solid black thankfully with no designs. Perfect for what she was going to be doing.
She dropped the bloodied shirt onto the carpet so it could be disposed of along with it and began unfolding the sheet on the floor next to your father. Very carefully, she rolled him over onto the sheet then did it again and again until he was completely wrapped inside of it like a burrito.
Once he was fully wrapped, she slid the hat over her head, tucking her hair up into it, and tied the bandana over the bottom half of her face.
Just as she was slipping the gloves on, footsteps sounded from the basement stairs and her accomplice appeared at the top of the steps, shovel in hand.
“Put that by the door, I need your help with this,” Tara gestured to the wrapped corpse.
Her eyes widened, noticeably avoiding looking at the body Tara was referring to.
“Y-you want me to help with…that?”
Tara bit back the scathing retort on her tongue and took on a pleading tone instead.
“Yes. Please,” she tried, “I can’t lift him into the bag by myself.”
Conflict flashed in her eyes. She swallowed roughly, still unmoving. Tara was about to give up and try putting him in by herself when she finally moved to where the smaller girl was.
Tara opened the duffel bag, and with some initial struggle, they maneuvered him onto his side, pushing his knees to his chest so he could just fit inside. It was a tighter fit than anticipated but they made it work.
Together, they lifted the bag and walked it to the car, placing it in the trunk alongside the shovel. Tara grabbed your mother’s arm before she could go back inside.
“Listen,” she spoke lowly, “while I’m gone, you’re gonna roll up the carpet and burn it in the firepit out back. Get the clothes from the bathroom and burn them as well. If there’s anything else that got blood or DNA on it, then throw that in too. Understand?”
A timid nod was the only response she got from the woman before she walked back toward the house.
“Oh, and clean the table too,” Tara called out as she reached for her own keys in her pocket and popped the trunk.
She was suddenly very thankful that she kept her platforms in her trunk for… spontaneous occasions.
With a practiced ease, she tied the shoes on and unlocked your mother’s car, quietly slipping into the driver’s seat. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel and she found that her body was more tense than usual.
The next part of the plan relied entirely on luck, something Tara didn’t particularly like. But she had no choice.
Turning the key in the ignition, Tara pulled out of your driveway and began the drive across town.
Woodsboro was a sleepy little town. Very few were out and about after 10 p.m. and even less were out now, well after midnight. But still, she needed to be as careful as possible.
She drove slow, headlights off, taking as many backroads as possible to avoid any cameras and the sightlines of any major streets or apartment buildings in case anyone was awake and watching.
After about twenty minutes of driving, Tara pulled into one of the two cemeteries in Woodsboro. A slow ten-minute circuit around the place told her that there was nothing of use there. It disheartened her a bit, but she couldn’t give up, so she set off to her next destination.
Thankfully, luck seemed to be on her side because a few minutes into her drive around the second cemetery, she found exactly what she was looking for.
A freshly dug grave.
It had been a real gamble. But considering most funerals were held on Saturday’s and it was a Friday night (or early Saturday morning, now), there was a chance she would find one.
Tara quickly got out and opened the trunk. She grabbed the shovel with one hand and the bag with the other, almost falling over as she tried to lift it out of the car.
Very quickly, she gave up trying to carry the duffel bag and settled for pulling it along by the bag strap with both hands.
“Heavy sack of shit,” she mumbled as she dragged the bag across the grass.
She lugged him over, grumbling, and set him down by the hole. Tara noted the dirt piled around the dug out grave. At least she wouldn’t need to worry about making a mess.
When she checked the time before getting out of the car it was already 12:47.
She had to get this done so she could get back to your house. Back to you.
With a sigh, Tara grabbed the shovel, jumped into the grave, and got to work.
Digging was an arduous process. Aside from how taxing it was on the arms, Tara had no real way of knowing how far down she was digging, so she had to just trust her instincts. She only stopped when she confidently estimated she had dug around two feet down.
Getting back out was a challenge even with platforms on to accentuate her height. Being short was a curse, Tara was convinced. But after a few attempts (and a lot of embarrassment) she managed to haul herself out with the shovel in tow.
Once back on her feet, Tara roughly kicked the duffel bag into the hole and started covering it with dirt.
Trying to gauge how much dirt she was putting in while also attempting to make it perfectly even to not arouse suspicion was difficult with the limited moonlight. She could have used her phone flashlight, but she wasn’t trying to draw any unnecessary attention to herself, so she made it work.
By the time she stumbled back to the car, threw the shovel back in the trunk, and collapsed into the driver’s seat, Tara was exhausted.
Her arms ached with a fierceness and she didn’t even want to think about how they would feel when she woke up in the morning. She sighed.
Why did breaking the law have to be so much goddamn work?
A glance at the clock told her it was 1:56 A.M.
You had probably long since finished your shower by now. She pushed her fatigue aside and got back on the road.
The knowledge that you were waiting for her made her want to slam her foot down on the pedal, but she held back. This was the home stretch, getting caught now would potentially ruin everything.
Tara let out a sigh of relief when she pulled into your driveway. She turned the car off and took the shovel out the trunk, the thought of every step bringing her closer to you driving her forward.
As she stepped inside, she set the shovel by the door and instantly spotted your mother, cleaning the blood off the glass table just as Tara asked. She was also pleasantly surprised to see that the carpet that formerly resided under the table was missing.
It seemed that the feeble woman actually was good for something.
“How is she?” Tara asked while taking the hat and bandana off. Silence followed. Tara threw the garments onto the couch and looked to your mother, who had stopped scrubbing to stare at the floor.
Tara blinked. Hard. Her eyebrows shot up.
“Have you not gone to check on her?” She couldn’t bother to keep her incredulousness in check.
Again, the room lapsed into silence as the older woman kept her head down. Tara couldn’t believe what she was hearing—or rather what she was not hearing.
After sitting by while your own father—her ex-husband was trying to kill you, she couldn’t even be bothered to check in on you. “Angry” didn’t even begin to cover how Tara felt at the flagrant display of cowardice.
She couldn’t help but wonder, was this even the first time something like this happened while your mother hid instead of intervening? Was this the first time she refused to look at you because of her own shame or selfishness or both?
Enough was enough, she decided.
“She’s staying with me.”
That got your mother’s attention. She shot to her feet; eyes trained directly on Tara’s for the first time since she stepped back into the house.
“She absolutely isn’t. Why would you think that?”
“I think it’d be better if she’s away from this house for a while,” Tara gritted out, patience running thin.
“There is still a killer on the loose in this town. I won’t let you take my daughter somewhere where I won’t know if she’s safe or not.”
Indignation burned bright and hot in Tara’s veins. Her lips curled into a distorted smile.
“And you think she’ll be safer here? With you?” she spat, enjoying the way your mother’s eyes widened. “You couldn’t even protect her from your own husband, do you really think you could protect her from a vicious murderer?”
The woman blanched and inched back, but Tara didn’t stop, taking a step into her space as she continued.
“Even tonight, as your husband tried to kill her, what did you do? Did you try to stop him? Or did you cower in the kitchen like you were when I came?”
Tara waited for an answer. None came. She persisted.
“That’s right, you did nothing. You didn’t try to stop him; you didn’t try to save your own child. Hell, you didn’t even try to call the police. Your daughter had to call me for help after he died because you were being too useless to even stand up.”
Your mother had gone completely still, a slight tremble setting in. She was close to crumbling, Tara knew. One more solid push should do it. So Tara leaned in real close, eyes dark, voice but a whisper.
“You couldn’t protect her all these years. What makes you think you can now?”
As predicted, that did it. Tara watched her shatter in one swift motion.
Tears pooled and spilled over as all of the blood drained from her face. The tremble in her limbs became a violent shake, sending her to her knees with a gargled whimper.
Tara just stood, watching the display with distaste. Languidly, she knelt down before your mother and caught her teary gaze.
“If anyone asks where your ex-husband is, you tell them that he moved out west and cut contact with you. Use the divorce as an excuse,” she instructed slowly. Eyes darkening further, Tara leaned forward, dropping her voice. “You will not speak a word about what happened here tonight to anyone. Your daughter will be staying with me until she’s able to feel safe in her own home again. Do you understand?”
It was a statement more than it was a question, the finality in her tone leaving no room for argument. There was only one acceptable answer for Tara. And it seemed that she understood that. Lips trembling, she gave Tara a shaky nod, making the smaller girl smile.
Satisfied, Tara stood, intending on collecting you and leaving, but your mother apparently wasn’t finished annoying her.
“P-please, please tell her that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” she gasped out between miserable sobs, weakly grabbing Tara’s hand.
Tara’s lips curled with disgust. Even now, after everything that had happened, your own mother couldn’t give you the apology you deserved to your face.
How pathetic.
Snatching her hand from the woman’s frail grasp, she began making her way upstairs, letting the pitiful cries fade with distance.
Tara entered the upstairs hallway, scanning it quickly. There were four doors that branched from the hall. The one all the way at the end was partially open. She made her way to it, taking a peek inside the bathroom along the way, pleased to see that the bag you presumably left on the floor was indeed gone.
At least your mother was good at following orders.
Pushing the door open wider, she was greeted by the unfamiliar sight of your room. It was a surprisingly sparse room for someone with so much personality. If Tara didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t have even guessed it was yours.
The walls were bare, lacking all the decoration that Tara’s had, and the furniture was more of the same. Plain, brown, and devoid of all the emotion and spirit that she envisioned it having. The only sign of life in the room was on your bed, where you laid unnaturally still.
You rested atop your comforter, your damp hair fanned out on the pillow beneath you, gradually soaking it. But you either didn’t notice or didn’t care, staring resolutely out your window. The bruising on your neck was already darker, a nauseating shade of purple that made Tara’s stomach stir.
She approached quietly, not wanting to startle you in your seemingly fragile state, and sat down on the edge of the bed. You didn’t register the shifting of your bed, so Tara tentatively slipped her hand into yours.
Finally, Tara saw you inhale, and your attention shifted from the outside world to her.
“Tara,” you whispered, voice gravelly, “my dad, w-wha-“
“Don’t worry about him, baby. I took care of everything,” she cooed, stroking her thumb over your cheek.
“Did…you call the police?” you asked. The soft furrow of your brows would be adorable if it weren’t for the worry in your eyes that accompanied it.
Tara shook her head. “No. No police.”
“Wh-“ A harsh cough forced its way from your throat, making Tara wince in sympathy. “What’s gonna happen now?”
The fear in your eyes made her chest ache. To combat it, she put a small, comforting smile on her face. “Actually, that’s what I was coming to tell you. I talked it over with your mom we came to an agreement. You’ll be staying with me for the time being.”
She half expected you to say no, to refuse being uprooted from your home so suddenly. Instead, you asked, “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude on you or Sam.”
Tara almost sighed. You had a way of constantly making yourself out to be a burden when you were anything but.
“You could never intrude on us. Sam loves you and so do I. More than you could ever know. If you want to stay, you would be more than welcome,” she paused then posed the question. “Do you want to stay with me?”
She tried to brace herself for whatever you would say but your answer, only one small syllable, was said so fast that she didn’t even have time.
“Please.”
The rush of relief she felt was so powerful it almost knocked the air from her lungs.
Tara went over to your closet and started putting clothes into the overnight bag you used when you stayed with her for the weekend, grabbing your favorites first. The bag wasn’t big enough to fit everything, but it didn’t really matter, she could always come back and pick up more if need be.
Or you could wear her clothes. Tara liked that idea much better.
Once it was as full as she could get it, she turned to you and froze. You were sitting up now, brows drawn together as you stared at nothing.
Concerned, Tara dropped the bag and knelt down in front of you, reaching to cradle one of your hands between hers.
“Hey,” she prompted, voice soft, “what’s going through that head of yours?”
Pursing your lips, you tried to look away, but Tara wasn’t letting you get away that easily. She leaned forward, following your eyes. A sigh was expelled through your nose, voice dropping to a grave whisper.
“Do you think I’m a monster, Tara?”
Tara swore she could feel her heart fracture.
“No,” she asserted, shaking her head. “No, look at me.”
You did. She chose her next words very carefully, trying very hard to steer clear of anything resembling “he deserved it” (even if it was true).
“What you did was an accident,” she started, speaking slowly and clearly. “You didn’t want to hurt him, but he was hurting you and you reacted. You couldn’t have known that he would trip. And if you did know, you probably wouldn’t have done it. Why? Because you’re not a monster. You could never be one, not to me anyways.”
There was a brief silence after her small monologue. You took in her words while she watched you, admired you.
“Thank you,” you whispered. She just smiled, placing a feather-light kiss on your lips.
Tara tried not to dwell on how you would view her if you ever found out about the sins she’s committed without remorse.
She stood on unsteady legs. “Are you ready to leave?”
Thankfully you nodded, seeming just as eager as she was to get the hell out of this house.
She grabbed your bag and escorted you out of the house. Tara didn’t miss the way you barely glanced in your mother’s direction as you passed her.
The ride to her house was silent, as expected. You looked on the verge of either falling asleep or breaking down and nothing Tara could say would change that. Still, she reached over to intertwine your fingers with hers at the first red light.
Sam’s car was in the driveway when Tara pulled in, which made her groan. She was hoping she could at least wait until morning to explain the situation to her sister, that would have given her time to come up with a suitably vague excuse for your indefinite stay.
But her sister surprised her.
She stood from the couch as you both entered and took your shoes off, that irritating look on her face that indicated to Tara that an interrogation was imminent, but the minute she saw you, her mouth clamped shut.
The way her wide eyes trailed over the bruises on your neck didn’t escape Tara’s notice, and she was just about to step up and get defensive when Sam wrapped you in a delicate hug and told you that you could stay as long as you needed to.
Tara was shocked. She didn’t think it would be so easy, but she supposed this fell in line with Sam’s newer personality quirks.
Sam had a recent habit of being… protective of the people she cared for. It annoyed the hell out of Tara but, if it could help her get what she wanted, as it did just now, then she would learn to tolerate it.
So she sent her sister a large, grateful smile and pulled you upstairs, making a mental note to find other ways to take advantage of Sam’s overprotective streak in the future.
Tara debated bringing your things into her room, but she figured you deserved a space of your own that could truly feel like it was yours. She led you to the guest room, conveniently right across the hall from her room, and placed your bag on the edge of the bed.
She paused then, finding herself entirely unsure of what to do next. Part of her wanted to invite you to her room like usual, while the other argued that you may want some space to process what happened earlier.
Discordant words interrupted the beginnings of her internal debate.
“Can I sleep with you?” you rasped, sounding shy despite the fact that you’d shared a bed with her dozens of times before. Tara smiled.
“Of course.” She took your hand in hers again and took you across the hall, gesturing for you to lay down while she changed and put her dirty clothes away. She made another mental note to wash those clothes tomorrow. Just in case.
In the few minutes that took, you were already on the verge of falling asleep when she turned back around.
With a small grin, she laid beside you and opened her arms. The tiny smile you gave her in return was blinding. You burrowed into her and buried your face into Tara’s neck like you always did when you slept together. Tara started carding her hand through your hair, knowing it would lull you off faster.
You were asleep within minutes. She couldn’t blame you, it had been an eventful night, and Tara herself should have been passed out instantly with the amount of physical labor she had done not even a few hours prior, but she just couldn’t shut her eyes.
How could she peacefully sleep knowing what she did to you?
This entire situation was her fault. Her inaction led to this moment, her hesitance to possibly hurt you nearly got you killed.
Her hesitance made you kill. That was devastating.
Tara wasn’t oblivious. She wasn’t so naïve as to think that her ultraviolent impulses were normal. No, there was a reason why she hid her true nature.
Whereas she found killing to be exhilarating—as utterly satisfying as scratching an itch you hadn’t been able to reach—you found it to be tormenting. She saw how stricken you were earlier, heard how terribly you thought of yourself for your actions just earlier in your room.
This would torture you. Would be a burden you carried for a long time. Because of her.
Just the thought was agonizing. The knowledge that she had hurt you, intentionally or not, made her want to drive a knife through her own flesh.
It would never happen, that she would make sure of.
With reinvigorated purpose, Tara pulled a blanket over the both of you and pressed a long, firm kiss to the top of your head. A silent promise to do better. A vow that for as long as she had you, she would never let another soul do you harm.
And the next time she even suspected anyone of laying their hands on you, there would no hesitation and absolutely no mercy.
943 notes · View notes
anythingforjtk · 7 months
Text
Scream for Me
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader
Word count: ~2,500
Warnings: alcohol, cursing, unprotected sex (p in v) (wrap it up!), light choking, fingering, mentions of murder (not seriously), minors DNI!!!
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a/n: I wanted to pick a halloween fic topic based off of the list @hearts-hunger created! I picked topic 17 (halloween party) It’s different from the other fic I recently wrote but it was fun to make! enjoy the halloween jake smut 👻
“y/n would you hurry up! The uber will be here in two minutes!” Shouts your best friend Cam from the bottom of the staircase.
The two of you are about to leave for a Halloween party. You decided to go with a classic yet sexy costume, a pirate. You’re wearing an off the shoulder long white dress with a corset around your waist. You are covered in silver jewelry: necklaces, bracelets and earrings. You opted for a dark smokey eye and eyeliner in your waterline. Your finishing touches include fishnet stockings, black boots and a red bandanna over your hair.
“I’m coming Cam!” You reply before throwing your phone and keys into your purse and running down the stairs to meet her at the front door.
“You may have taken forever but I can see it was worth the wait, you look sexy girl. Now let’s go!” Cam pulls your arm and drags you through the front door, guiding you towards to uber.
Once you get inside of the car you finally have time to take in and appreciate her costume.
Not only is she dressed as Pennywise from the movie IT, but she is the sexy version. She’s wearing a white corset top, embellished with red pom-poms, small white shorts, clown makeup and a pretty orange wig.
“I admire your ability to be scary, funny and sexy all at once. You truly have a talent,” you giggle to her.
“Oh what can I say my dear? I’m multifaceted,” Cam says as she jokingly flicks her orange wig behind her shoulder.
The ride to the party is fast, only lasting about fifteen minutes. You both hop out of the car when you arrive and hook arms, walking to the front door together.
The party is hosted by Cams new boyfriend Daniel. You have only met him two times but he seems like a sweet guy.
Cam opens the front door without knocking and you’re immediately transported into a Halloween wonderland. You didn’t expect so many decorations.
The lighting in the house is dim. There are string lights and cob webs hanging from every inch of the ceiling. You see black and red streamers hanging from the walls and candles lit on every table. The kitchen island was filled with spooky treats and alcoholic punch. It is very impressive for a twenty-something year old guy.
“Wow Cam,” you shout over the loud and eerie music. “Daniel really goes all out. This is amazing.” You try to keep your jaw from hitting the floor.
“Isn’t it?!” She doesn’t seem shocked by his effort, only proud.
There are a good amount of people in the house. Not too many but not too little. Just enough for a comfortable party.
“Im going to search for Danny,” Cam shouts over the music into your ear. “Go get some punch and i’ll meet up with you when I find him.”
She runs off and you’re now left to fend for yourself.
You take her suggestion and walk over to the kitchen island to get a drink. You are completely sober currently and in need of something to lighten your anxiety.
Your pour yourself a class of the punch and it’s delicious. It’s strong, but really good. It is the perfect drink to get you drunk fast without feeling the burn of consuming alcohol.
You lean against the counter while sipping your drink and begin to people watch. You love taking in everyone’s costume choices. Some people are opting for a scary approach, some look beautiful and some look funny. It is interesting to see what people choose. As you’re looking at the crowd, you feel a presence beside you.
You look over to see a man wearing black from head to toe. He’s wearing black skinny jeans, black chelsea boots and a black shirt that is holding on by one button.
You think the outfit is rather sexy but you can’t see his face. That is because he’s wearing a Ghostface mask.
He speaks, breaking you from your thoughts. “Hey I haven’t seen you at one of Danny’s parties before. What are you doing standing over here alone?”
His voice is kind and boyish but raspy. It’s very attractive.
“Oh my friend just recently started dating him so this is my first time here. I don’t really know anyone but her and she’s looking for Daniel,” you reply.
He extends his hand out to you, “Well my name is Jake. Now you know someone else.” You can’t see his face but you can almost hear it in his voice that he’s smiling.
You reach out in return, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you Jake. I’m y/n.”
“Well y/n, I must tell you that I was intrigued to come over here and talk to you because you’re dressed as a pirate and if there’s one thing about me, I find pirates to be very intriguing.”
A blush comes across your face. You hope he can’t really see it through the mask he’s wearing.
“I hate to disappoint you Jacob but,” you lean in closer and whisper towards his ear, “I’m not a real pirate. Don’t tell anyone tho.” You shush him by putting your finger over your lips.
He giggles genuinely at your attempt at a lame joke.
Jake speaks up from behind the mask, “Well then you should know that i’m not a real cereal killer.”
“Oh damnit. I was kind of hoping you were,” you reply. Although you weren’t actually hoping that, the idea of a sexy and dangerous man in a mask turned you on.
“I mean, I can be anything you want me to be tonight darling,” Jake says with sex dripping in his voice.
You didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the halloween party or the masked man in front of you but you wanted Jake to take you away from this party immediately.
“If you take me somewhere quiet i’ll show you exactly what I want from you mr. Ghostface. Just as long as you don’t kill me of course.”
Jake grips your wrist firmly and guides you up the stairs and away from the party noise at a fairly quickly pace.
He throws your body into what looks like a guest room, slams the door shut, locks it and pushes your body against the wall.
The room is dark, only lit by the moon in the night sky.
Jake begins to grab the bottom of his mask, getting ready to reveal his face to you but you quickly grab his hands to stop him.
“Keep it on.”
His strong hand then snaps around your neck. You can’t quit see his eyes but you know he’s staring at you like you’re his next meal. He slowly moves his head so his mouth is hovering over your ear.
“I like you sweetheart.”
You slowly begin to smirk, knowing he’s willing to keep it on.
His hand leaves your neck and slowly travels down your body. He lifts your skirt up, revealing your black thong covered in your fishnet tights.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
You nod your head quickly in reply.
His hand shoots back around your neck. “Words baby.”
“Y- yes. Yes it’s okay.” You struggle to say through your heavy breathing.
“Good girl,” he says while lowering his hand beneath the band of your thong. His fingers reached your heat and he begins swirling his middle and ring finger in your wetness.
Without much warning he shoves both of his fingers inside of you. You gasp at the sudden contact and grab at his strong forearm to ground yourself.
“How fast do you want it baby?” He questions, wanting to know the proper way to please you.
“Fast and hard,” you moan out to him while leaning your head back against the wall behind you to prepare yourself.
His fingers start plunging in and out of you at a painfully delicious speed. He curls his fingers at just the right angel to hit a spot that makes you nearly scream.
You feel sweat beading on your forehead as he drives his fingers into you. You squeeze around him as you feel yourself starting to unwind.
“Come on pretty girl. You’re about to cum, I can feel it. Be so good for me and cum on my fingers.” he demands.
Hearing his silky voice speak those words to you were enough to have you unraveling on his hand.
“fuuuckkkkkk,” you scream out at a volume too loud considering there are other people in the house.
When you come down from your orgasm he gently pulls his hand away from your core.
“Open up,” he requests.
You follow his order. He places his two fingers onto your tongue. With his other hand he guides your chin to close around his fingers and he slowly pulls them from your mouth as you suck them clean.
You look down at his pants and see how painfully hard he is. You softly trace your fingers over his bulge and he sucks in his breath sharply as if you were hurting him.
“I want all of you. I want to feel you,” you say to him.
He picks you up from under your ass, carries you over to the bed, and slams you down.
While hovering over you with his hands on both sides of your head Jake says, “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
He removes his jeans and boxers while you remove your corset and dress.
He’s left in nothing but his low buttoned shirt and his mask, while you’re in just your tights and a thong.
You make eye contact with his dick and notice how thick it is. It excites you so much that you notice your wetness pooling beneath you.
“You don’t have to stare honey, it’s all yours tonight,” Jake giggles to you, noticing where your eyes have been lingering.
“Then what are you waiting for Jacob? Give it to me,” you demand from him as if you’ve grown impatient.
He wastes no time and crawls on top on you on the bed and you both move up until you hit the headboard.
He reaches down to your core with one hand and rips your fishnet tights to create a hole.
You feely annoyed that he ripped your clothing for one minute until you realize you were never going to wear them again anyway.
His hands begin to explore your body. He grabs at your breasts, massaging them firmly. He rolls your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as you let out a heavy breath of ecstasy.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he compliments you.
“I’d say the same for you mystery man but I haven’t seen your face yet,” you wink back at him.
He chuckles in response to you and continues working his hands over your body.
“Please Jake I need you now,” you practically beg him.
“You need me to what darling?” He mockingly asks you, wanting to hear you plead for it.
“I need you to fuck me.”
“You want me to fuck you baby? Is that what you need?”
“Yes. Yes. Please,” you almost sound like you’re crying.
“Oh baby… I’ll fuck you so hard someone will think you are getting murdered in here.”
He pushes your thong to the side and lines himself up with your core. He snaps his hips against yours in one quick motion, causing you to shriek. He begins rapidly pounding into you.
He quickly grabs and pillow and puts it under your hips, making the pleasure triple. You grab at his back and dig your nails into him, slowly running them down his back, hoping to leave him with a memory of tonight.
“Fuck- you feel so fucking good around my cock,” he says through his staggered breathing. “Does that feel good baby?”
“Yes Jake you feel so good inside of me I never want you to fucking leave,” you shout back to him.
Your response to him causes him to moan deeply in chest, so much so that it sounds like a growl.
He grabs one of your legs and wrap it around his waist so he can reach a new angel. Between the pillow placement, your position, and his rapid thrusts, your body is experiencing a feeling it never has before.
You can feel his dick brushing past your g-spot causing you to yell out his name and a string of curses.
You start to squeeze around his cock, getting close to your release. You can tell he’s almost there too as you feel him twitch inside of you.
“Cum with me y/n. I want you to soak my dick as I finish inside of you. Come on baby you’re almost there. Be good for me.”
His final praises bring you to the finish line as your body shakes through a mind bending orgasm. You let out a chorus of yeses and grab at his arms with all of your might. As you’re finishing you feel him twitch inside of you.
You both come down and catch your breath before he pulls out of you and falls onto his back on the bed beside you.
You turn your head to look over at him, still wearing the Ghostface mask, “That was fucking amazing.”
“Holy shit, yea it was,” he responds. “Can I take this fucking thing off now,” he laughs referring to the mask on his face.
“Oh please do,” you reply.
You feel nervous watching him begging to situate the mask to lift over his head. You have no idea what he looks like yet but you had been extremely attracted to everything he’s offered so far and there was no denying he is the best sex you’ve ever had.
The mask gets fully yanked off of him to reveal one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.
You gasp out loud.
His hair is shoulder legnth and chestnut brown. His eyes are dark and filled with honey. His thick eyebrows and long eyelashes compliment his deep eyes so well. He has a strong and sharp nose and plump pink lips. He smirks slightly at you, revealing his perfectly straight teeth.
“What? Did my face scare you sweetheart?” He asks as a joke.
You press your body into his and brush the sweaty hair sticking to his face behind his ears.
“The only thing that scares me is how attracted I am to you,” you say in full seriousness.
“You’re in luck because I feel the same way about you.” He gives a quick peck to your nose. “Give me your phone. Let me put my number in it.”
You reach down to the floor where your purse was thrown and grab your phone from it.
You hand it over to him and let him type in his contact himself.
When he hands the phone back you look down to see the information he filled out and giggle at the screen.
His number was put in its rightful place and his contact name was labeled as “Ghostface🔪”
155 notes · View notes
sunshinevanfleet · 1 year
Text
brat - d. wagner
pairing: danny x reader
a/n: hey y'all!!! i'm back again with another fic. i'm trying to keep up with the writing and avoid some writers' block, so here's another fic. i am hardcore in danny's lane rn, and planned to write some fluff and then ended up with the exact opposite lol. so here's some enemies to lovers, hate-fuck smut with our lovely danny. he's kind of an asshole in this one and it's very sexy so pls enjoy. let me know what u think!! luv you all. (p.s. this is unedited and not proofread so excuse me for any mistakes thx ok bye)
genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), enemies to lovers
word count: 4k
warnings: alcohol consumption, explicit sex scenes, unprotected sex, car sex, danny being an asshole, some light degradation, etc.
“You have got to be fucking with me.” 
You barely noticed the words leaving your lips as you stood by the bar, the plastic cup in your hand crunching as you gripped it. You glanced over your shoulder at your friend; she was still distracted by the hot bartender flirting with her. Nudging her with your shoulder, she finally glanced over.
“No way, is that–”
“It is,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I’m going to fucking murder Josh Kiszka.”
Kara laughed at your words, just as shocked as you were. The bartender was forgotten, still chatting away distractedly as you two stared at the man in the doorway of the bar. The low light obscured him slightly, not to mention the blurriness of your eyes from the couple of drinks you had. But it was him, silhouetted there, all broad-shoulders and dark curly hair framing his face. 
“Daniel Wagner…” Kara shook her head, taking a long swig of her drink in front of her. “Josh totally did that on purpose.”
“You think?”
“I mean, I dunno.” She shrugged. “He knows you hate each other, obviously.”
You sighed heavily. You should’ve called anyone but Josh. You should’ve spent your last ten dollars getting an uber home. It would be worth sacrificing your pretentious cold brew from the coffee shop down the street in the morning in order to avoid riding home with Danny Wagner. 
“This is so fucked.” You turned around to face Kara. Danny was canvassing the crowded bar, obviously searching for you since he had been called to be your savior tonight. “I’m never calling Josh to pick me up again.”
“You should’ve expected this, Y/N,” said Kara. “Josh is always sending someone else to get you. Remember last time? He was taking fireball shots at home with Sam, so he sent Jake…”
“That’s the difference!” you hissed at her, trying not to call attention to yourself. You were beginning to panic. How were you going to survive a twenty minute drive in the car with a man you hated? “It was Jake! He’s not my–my arch nemesis!”
Kara snorted, covering her mouth as she began to laugh. “Your arch nemesis… I can’t with you. Sound like a supervillain,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I’m being serious.”
“You’ll be fine, Y/N,” she waved her hand halfheartedly. “At least he’s hot.”
Your features screwed up into a scowl. It felt like all of your friends were setting you up for this. The two of you never got along; he always had some snarky comment any time you said anything, and the sound of his voice hit the wrong nerve with you. Something about him was just infuriating. But he was a staple in the Kiszkas’ lives, and so were you, so you tolerated each other. Josh, however, was always trying to get you to get along. This was another one of his plots, and you knew it. You were going to strangle him. 
“Oh, shit, I think he’s spotted us,” Kara said, eyes widening. She forced herself to look back towards the bartender, and sipped her drink aggressively. 
You took a deep breath and smoothed your hands over your face. This would definitely be interesting. It took everything in you not to turn around and watch him saunter over, that stupid cocky look playing on his features as he realized the rest of your night was in his hands. There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to make every second a living hell. 
“There you are, sweetheart,” came his voice from behind you. You resisted the urge to scream at the pretentious nickname.
You turned to face him, your face curled into the nastiest smile you could muster. “Daniel,” you said, feigning politeness. “Look who the cat dragged in.”
“Kicking and screaming,” he agreed, nodding his head. You eyed him for a second. His hair was pulled back messily, stray curls fanning his forehead and cheeks. He wore a black muscle tee and a pair of gray sweatpants that were hanging dangerously low on his hips. He must’ve been in bed when Josh called him. 
“Where’s Josh?” you asked bluntly. Your two-second show of getting along was over. He was the last person you wanted to be face-to-face with right now. 
“Incapacitated,” said Danny. “You know how he loves a good Friday night drinking game.”
“And you weren’t playing?”
“Nope,” he continued, “I was all cozy in my bed, going to sleep early. Then Josh calls me to come rescue the princess, so here I am.” 
You rolled your eyes. With a huff, you decided not to push the subject any further. If you ignored him, maybe the next half hour would go by in a flash. Next time, you’d be calling your Mom before you called Josh to come pick you up. Unreliable little shit.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” you said under your breath.
Standing from the bar, you grabbed your purse and slung it over your shoulder. You shoved your phone inside, and said a quick goodbye to Kara. She smiled sweetly at the both of you as you left. Danny led you out into the warm night air, where his car was waiting. 
“Don’t look so miserable, sweetheart,” he said, a twinge of amusement in his voice.
“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, tone laced with venom. You had never met anyone with such a smackable demeanor, someone so hell-bent on pestering you until you broke. 
“What? Not happy to see me?”
You wrinkled your nose. Ducking into his car, you dropped your bag on the floor and kicked off your heels. In the back of your mind, you wished you drank a little more before you left. Danny’s presence was a wonderfully effective buzzkill. 
“Well, don’t get your panties in a twist. You don’t have to see me for too long,” he said, grinning.
“My panties are perfectly untwisted,” you said haughtily. “Can you just shut up for the next twenty minutes? It’d make my life a lot easier.”
He laughed. “I’m not here to make your life easier.”
“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
You could feel the smugness radiating off of him as he pulled away from the bar. You wished you could hitch a ride with Kara, but you knew her boyfriend was picking her up and they would be nearly as insufferable as this car ride with Danny. It was quiet for a moment, but you knew he would be back to bugging you any minute now. You merely hoped you didn’t explode once it started. 
He reached between you, flicking the radio on to kill the silence between you. The station was set to something hard-rock. The drums and guitar blaring through the speakers were really starting to worsen the headache threatening to come on.
“Can you turn that off, please?” you asked, glaring at him.
“No, I like this song,” Danny said, reaching over to increase the volume.
Your face flushed with anger. 
“I have a headache, Daniel,” you said bitterly. “At least turn it down.”
But he was steadily cranking the volume up, up, up. The grin on his face was only widening. Your head pounded, both from the drinks and the immeasurable rage coursing through you. 
“What?” he shouted. “I can’t hear you!”
You half-groaned, half-screamed, and reached over to pull his hand away from the volume. You knew you looked like a crazy person, and you didn’t care. He laughed as you pushed his hand away from the radio. You muted it without a second thought. 
“My head is fucking pounding,” you hissed at him. “Asshole.”
“Oh I’m an asshole,” he added, chuckling. “That’s rich, coming from such a brat.”
You glanced over, and met his gaze briefly before he looked away. His eyes were dark, and slightly hooded with sleep. He really must’ve been sleeping.  Your heart thundered in your chest. If you weren’t so pissed off, you might have noticed the butterflies blooming in your stomach and spreading down between your legs. There was no way that Danny Wagner insulting you was turning you on. You ignored the feeling, twisting one leg over the other and flopping back against the seat. 
“You are an asshole,” you said.
“I am a perfectly nice guy.”
You snorted. “You’re fucking delusional.”
“You know it. You just don’t want to admit that you’re the instigator in this relationship,” Danny said.
“Instigator? Which one of us is constantly, intentionally, pissing the other one off?” You raised your eyebrows expectantly at him.
He grinned at you, shrugging. “Which one of us is constantly getting so worked up over absolutely nothing?”
“I’m going to ignore you, now,” you stated. You turned away from him, staring off into the distance as he drove you home. You couldn’t stand looking into those intense eyes any longer. Your thighs were clenched together so hard that they were beginning to shake. It was about time you got the hell out of this car, before shit got out of hand.
“Looks like I’m right,” he continued. “Poor little brat knows I’m right, huh?”
Brat… The word made you squirm in your seat, the brief throbbing in your core making you swallow hard. He was going to be the death of you, the gorgeous shithead sitting in the seat beside you. God, you hated how easily he could push your buttons in all the right ways. You hated to admit it, but underneath all of the outward animosity, there had always been some serious sexual tension. 
“I must be really getting under your skin, huh sweetheart?” 
There it was again, another one of his condescending nicknames. It felt wrong to say you were almost enjoying this. You squirmed slightly again, trying to avoid his attention. The sound of your pulse thundered in your ears. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he could tell. 
“I hate you,” you muttered. Your voice was hoarse, and so quiet it was barely audible between you. You were afraid if you spoke any louder that the shake in your voice would give it all away. 
“Doesn’t seem that way,” said Danny smugly. His car came to a stop at a redlight, and you turned to glance at him. He was looking at you, almost hungrily. He looked you up and down, shaking his head as the light finally turned green and he pulled off. “Can’t sit still over there, can you?”
“What are you talking about?” 
“Don’t act all clueless,” he chuckled. “I see you over there, squirming and writhing…” His eyes flicked down to your legs twisted together. Your skirt had ridden dangerously high up your thighs, almost enough so that your panties would be exposed shortly. 
“I am not,” you hissed, uncrossing your legs and pulling your skirt down. Your face flushed red, and you prayed he couldn’t see it in the dim light. 
“Are too,” his voice was tinged with amusement. “Bet that little pussy’s just throbbing when I call you brat.” 
His words sent a jolt up your spine, and you knew he could see your red face now. Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He laughed darkly at this.
“You know I’m right.”
You swallowed the planet-sized lump in your throat, trying to figure out how to breathe again. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? 
“I– Danny, what–” You were lost for words. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as you rode the last two minutes to your house. He seemed to be completely focused on the road, not paying you any mind as you sat there in complete shock. What the fuck was going on?
The car came to a stop in your driveway with a jolt. There was a short pause, where the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. Then, without a word, Danny leaned his seat back, and you caught the hint.
You climbed across the center console and straddled him with all the ease of a professional. He leaned up and caught your lips in a heated kiss. It was hot, and messy– all lips and teeth gnashing and saliva everywhere. His hands had fallen to your ass, bunching your skirt up around your hips and kneading the fleshy skin. Your own were tangled in his curls, pulling more hair loose from his bun as you pushed him down against the seat.
“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he groaned against your mouth. One of his fingers teased along your panties as he squeezed your ass. There was barely any friction, but still you sighed heavily. 
“Fuck,” you hissed as he dragged the finger up and down the fabric again, teasing you through your underwear. You ground your hips down against him, trying to get some kind of relief. 
“What got you this wet for me, sweetheart? Hmm?” His lips traveled down your neck, sucking the skin hard as he left bruises behind. You rutted your hips against him again, desperately as he continued teasing you. “This sweet little pussy loves it when I call you my brat, huh?”
His deep, silky voice sent a jolt through your body. You needed him so bad. To touch you, to taste you, to fuck you. Anything at this point. You couldn’t take the sound of him teasing you anymore. You needed him to destroy you.
“Fuck, Danny, stop teasing me, please,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Two of his long fingers swept past your panties and swirled against your soaking wet core. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head at the feeling of it. 
“Teasing you is the best part,” he said breathily. His lips skirted across your collarbones, nipping harshly at the skin. You were going to be fifty shades of purple come the morning, but you didn’t care. You wanted his mouth–his teeth– on you, everywhere. 
You grunted, swirling your clothed center against his bulge and fingers again. It was almost pure bliss, having two of his fingers prodding your entrance and his clothed bulge dragging against your clit. You knew you could cum like this, but you wanted him, all of him desperately. 
His fingers finally pushed into your soaked cunt, and you moaned loudly. Your face flushed with embarrassment; it had been so long since you’d been fucked properly. The desperation in your movements made you feel something like a virgin again. You didn’t have time to worry about what Danny would think– his free hand had snaked up your body to wrap around your throat.
You gasped, throwing your head back as his fingers sank into you to the base. 
“You like that? You like my fingers stretching that little cunt open?”
You nodded, clenching around him as he slowly began to thrust them in and out of you. He curled them slightly, the pads of his fingers grazing your sweet spot deliciously.
“Use your words, brat.”
“Y–yes, Danny, I–” a moan broke through as he curled his fingers more harshly, driving them into your g-spot. “Fuck, I love it.”
“Oh, you love it?” he asked, his voice amused. “C’mon, ride my fingers, then.”
You obeyed instantly, lifting yourself up and rolling your hips against his fingers. Your entire body seized as his fingers hit that spot over and over again. Your eyes were screwed shut, bottom lip tugged between your teeth as he held you up by the throat and let you fuck yourself on his fingers. Pleasure coursed through your veins; you were sure he was the best lay of your life, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Stars bloomed in your vision, and your legs began to tremble.
He breathed sharply as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers. “Feels so good, doesn’t it sweetheart? You’re so close to cumming all over my hand, aren’t you? Yeah, that tight little pussy’s gonna cream all over my fingers, isn’t it?”
You whimpered at his words. You forced your eyes open and glanced down at him, and you nearly came at the sight. His lips were raw and swollen from his assault on your neck; sweat glistened on his forehead and cheeks, his curls plastered to the skin as he watched you with black eyes. His expression dripped with pure filth– no one had ever looked at you this way. You leaned down into him, pressing your open mouth against his. You breathed his air, tasting his breath and sucking it into your lungs as if it were your own lifeforce. Your tongue darted into his mouth; you throbbed at the wet, lewd sounds emerging from the two of your mouths together. It was disgusting, and you were loving every second of it. 
Chest heaving, you began to grind yourself down onto his digits, hard. You vision began to go black.
“Danny, oh my god, Danny,” you breathed, rocking against him. “I’m gonna cum, fuck me, I can’t hold on…” You were practically screaming, hoping that his car was muffling the sound of your shrill moans from the outside world.
“No, no, not yet, sweetheart…”
Your heart dropped as he dropped his hand from your throat, and grabbed you around the waist. You gasped as he pulled his soaked fingers out of you, your cunt clenching around nothing as he laughed darkly. 
“Danny, what the fuck–”
He grinned. “Relax, Y/N,” he said, amused. 
“But I was so fucking close,” you groaned, squirming above him as he watched you. Without saying anything, he brought his slick fingers up to your mouth and held them in front of you. You stared at him for a second, before he reached his other hand up and tapped you on the chin with his thumb. Opening your mouth, you allowed him to insert his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight; you felt his cock twitch underneath you, straining against his sweatpants. You rolled your hips against him, and he bit down on his lip with a grunt.
“You’re gonna cum all over my cock, okay? Gonna be my good girl and ride me,” he said, watching as you nodded, bobbing your lips over his fingers. You swirled your tongue around his digits hungrily, your eyes widening as you watched him pull down the waistband of his pants. His cock slapped against his abdomen. You knew from feeling it that it was bigger than average, but you never would have expected this from Danny Wagner.
“Fuck, where have you been hiding that thing?” you muttered, incredulous. 
Danny laughed, taking his saliva soaked hand and wrapping it around his shaft. The tip was slightly purple, leaking shining clear precum. He spread your spit and juices over himself, groaning thickly. 
“Let me,” you replaced his hand with your own, swiping your thumb over the tip. He grunted, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. You leaned forward, letting a string of saliva drip from your mouth down to his cock. You bobbed your fist up and down over him, feeling his thighs twitch as you teased him.
“Enough,” he groaned thickly, his voice deep with arousal as he reached forward to grab your wrist. “Sit on it. Now.” He commanded.
“Yes, sir,” you said snarkily, lifting yourself up and positioning your hole over the tip. You dragged the tip through your folds for a moment, soaking it in your arousal. The two of you moaned in unison, and a deep breathy groan spilled from his lips as you finally sank down onto him.
You squeezed your eyes shut at the stretch of his cock; it felt as if you were being split in half in the best way possible. 
“Holy fuck,” you panted, rolling your hips slowly against him. You didn’t know how you were going to take him for very long. Your legs trembled on either side of his, and you could barely lift yourself above him.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Danny grasped your chin as you stared down at him. “Need some help, baby? Need help riding my big cock?”
You nodded, “Yes, please. I can take it, please.” One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, and the other grasped his shoulder. Your nails dug into his skin as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you off of him a bit, and began to drill into you from beneath you.
You pressed your forehead against his, your mouth open in a silent scream. You couldn’t think as he set a relentless pace, barrelling into your swollen hole without abandon. Your thighs quivered and began to shake; if it weren’t for him holding you up, you would have collapsed on top of him. He was so deep, abusing your pussy as tears of sheer pleasure clouded your vision. 
You felt his hips stutter beneath you, and you moved your hand from his shoulder, to his throat. “Don’t fucking stop,” you moaned, your voice cracking. “If you stop, I’ll kill you.”
He laughed throatily, his breath fanning over your face. “Oh, if I had the willpower to torture you with my cock right now, I promise you I would, sweetheart. But I’ve gotta cum in this pussy, now.”
Tears swept down your cheeks as he maintained his rhythm. Sweat poured down your face, and mingled with the dampness of your tears. You squeezed your eyes closed, your entire body shaking as you approached your release. 
"Poor little pitiful thing..." he muttered. "I love seeing you cry over my cock. Feels good, huh baby? Splitting you open like that..."
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, I’m cumming, Danny– Oh, motherfuck–” Your voice was cut off by the heaving breaths breaking from your throat. Your cunt tightened around Danny’s thick length, squeezing deliciously as he fucked you straight through your orgasm. Your entire mind was blank, your vision cloudy as you slumped against him. But he wasn’t done with you; his pace was more relentless than ever as he chased his own high. You used the last of your energy to meet his thrusting, pushing him closer to the edge.
“Almost there,” he whispered, his features twisted in focus as you fucked down onto him. You rocked your hips, swirling around on his cock. His mouth fell open, and his features screwed up in pleasure. A strangled moan fell from his lips, and you felt his hot cum shooting inside of you, staining your walls. He came with a deep groan of your name, and you throbbed around him. 
You whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out of you, his strong arms still holding you above him. Gently, he released your waist, and you slumped down onto his chest. The two of you were covered in sweat, sticky and smelling distinctly of arousal. Around you, the windows of his car had fogged up enough that you could barely see out of them.
“You okay?” Danny asked quietly as you rolled back into your own seat, pressing your back against the door. You were still panting, your skirt hitched up around your hips. Your panties had been ripped to shreds in the process, threads dangling from your thighs. Absent-mindedly, you struggled to remove them.
“I’m good,” you nodded, taking a deep breath as you tried your best to fix your appearance. 
“Didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, sounding almost sorry.
“It was a good cry.” A laugh fell from your lips, and you were glad to see him smile. A real smile this time. Not the shit-eating grin you were used to. 
“Want me to walk you up?” He nodded towards the door to your house, slowly becoming visible through the fogged up windows. 
You nodded. “Sure,” you said. “Think I might need you to carry me after that.”
“I can manage that. If you can do me one favor in the morning…”
“And what would that be?”
“Tell Josh I said thanks for calling me,” he said cheekily.
“Oh, shut up,” you reached over and smacked him on the chest, then shook your head as he ducked out of the car. What were you going to do with him?
495 notes · View notes
britcision · 1 year
Text
Alright I’m on a Dead On Main kick but I’m also permanently in house “Danny Should Adopt Connor For Proper Clone Parenting”
So let’s combine those for crack purposes!
Timelines are fake and so are trees
Jason and Danny are both technically younger than Connor’s supposed to be, and both actually older than Connor is
There’s some fight in Gotham big enough to justify both Superman and Superboy showing up, Red Hood’s willingly working with the bats, mass hysteria
Jason Todd knows more than enough about forcing a working relationship with shitty parents enough to have Suspicions about how Man and Boy are interacting
He knew them before he died and knew it was a bad relationship then, it’s clearly no better
But it’s shooty shooty guns time so we’ll get to that later
Eventually he has to call in the bf because the JL are getting their asses kicked and Danny shows up and joins the fight
Even he can spot the tension and he and Jason exchange Big Gay Looks
But as the fight goes on, Connor’s pinned
In Big Danger, going down, Superman’s closest and doesn’t even glance twice
Just turns away
In comes Danny with the steel chair and if some flying fragments of goon nearly hit Supes, well, pure coincidence
Danny helps Connor to his feet and they get back into it, Connor gets to be in on the big plan which is Get Danny To The Middle
One ghostly wail later, that’s it that’s the fight
Everyone’s wondering what happened, how all the baddies disappeared, Danny gives Connor a pat on the shoulder
“I’m retired kid, and couldn’t have done it without you, so do me a favour and you take this win”
Danny’s gone, Connor’s confused, Jason INSTANTLY backs him up
If Bats is wondering who the unknown fighting alongside them was, well, Superman’s making his biggest constipated faces about congratulating his clone
Jason promises to explain everything if Connor comes by for coffee, Connor has no social life so post debrief they go and pick up enough for 3
Connor’s a little surprised cuz yeah, Jason’s different from when he was Robin, but way less angry and violent than Dick’s led him to believe
Jason explains it’s because of his new bf Danny, the explainer in this case
They get back to Danny in his human form, he’s all gushy and happy to meet Connor cuz whether he went to space or not Connor is technically an alien
Connor gets very quiet about his dna donors
Danny gets Instantly Suspicious and remembers that moment in the fight
Jason rats out the incidents he knows about where Superman’s been a shit
Connor insists we are Not Talking About This It’s Fine
Danny stares him in the face
“Hey wanna meet my clone? Her name’s Danielle, her creator made her try to murder me to replace me. She’s my sister and best friend and I love her dearly and You’re My Clone Now Too.”
Connor, befuddled, is instantly adopted by Dani as well because Clone Sibling, who cares about genetics
Jason tells Connor they’re always like this, but yeah, if he doesn’t wanna put up with Supes’ shit he can go his own way
He doesn’t even have to go full Red Hood style, but they’ll take care of him if he wants to break off on his own
Connor doesn’t believe Supes would ever allow this and would kill Connor the second he showed any hesitance
Danny goes Full Eldritch Horror
Jason:
“Oh hey I don’t think I formally introduced you, Connor this is my boyfriend Danny, the King of the Infinite Realms, you just watched him melt a guy who was kicking Clark’s ass. What were your concerns again?”
And that’s how Connor ends up adopted by his friend’s baby brother and his eldritch boyfriend, complete with happy family jokes
Jason and Danny both call him their baby incessantly and Connor will never admit he kinda loves it, not least for the faces Dick makes
Superman does predictably kick up a stink about Connor not living on base, Batman can’t control Jason but Jason isn’t a world ending threat
Jason smiles extremely sweetly and demonstrates exactly what a world ending threat looks like by texting Danny, who shows up again in full Eldritch Horror
And then Danny texts JAZZ and the Justice League learn the true meaning of fear from a 6’9 redhead therapist who went to the Harley Quinn school of “Sit Down And Shut Up While I Read You For Filth”
Danny pinky swears not to end the world if the JL leave Jason and Connor alone, they can even still be on call for the league and MAYBE so will Danny
If they’re extremely lucky
Constantine assures them this is The Only Way Fucking Hell Superman What Did You Do
The only hiccup in the happily ever after is Dick deciding this makes him Connor’s uncle and being insufferable about it
Danny agrees and it only makes it worse
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crazykuroneko · 2 months
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Joining the Rewind the Tape event
This will be my first time rewatching IWTV S1 since it's first broadcast (excluding the indirect watch I get from watching YouTube reactions). I'm bad at creating content, but I have been meaning to rewatch it the same way I watch movies; with my note app ready for me to write down things I notice. And like when watching movies, I don't really care about source material nor the existing theories; I just try to deduce from what I see. So, I feel this is a good way to refresh my mind before going into S2 after all the fanons and theories going around. I use my note to decide how I score a film, so I write down technical stuff as well.
If anyone wants to discuss, feel free to reply ✌️
Here is my note for S01E1:
• What a witty opening. Tricking audience that it's something it's not (an ad, which is closer to our reality). Setting the tone of what's to come.
• "Your sources are your Sherpas (a guide?). Your editor is your priest. Honesty is not a tactic."
• "Can he make his fantasy a reality?" Touche!
• 9/4/73. 4 September 1973
• Daniel looks so pissed listening to the old tape lol.
• That transition of Louis' face over the city. That's so Great Gatsby of him. And the long close shot makes Louis so still and inhuman, what a contrast with the ones from the church scene.
• "Have I hit the nerve?" Drink every time the script being so funny!
• Louis: "Yet you come anyway". Daniel: "That's my voice but I don't remember it" 
• "Truth and reconciliation" Reconciliation: the process of making two opposite beliefs, ideas, or situations agree.
• June 14, 2022.
• "The favored son. And capital to oversee as consequence"
• "You're a pimp". "The product is desire" The difference in their language in this dialogue is so interesting.
• Bricks hitting Fenwick after he tried to rape her. That's our girl 😌✊
• The score came up on the right time.
• Lestat witnessing and hearing the contradiction in Louis over loving his brother versus going hard on him in order to survive and falling in love immediately 😌✊✊✊✊
• "Let's not fuss on the particulars" Particulars in question are women being exploited and sometimes raped, but okay. 
• Florence and Grace don't like to hear the hard facts, I see. 
• "A lie I told myself about myself"
• No that white man Louis staring at is so ugly. Louis, please!
• Oh, Les definitely hears Tom inviting Louis for a game on Friday.
• "And there's a food" *gestures to Lily*. God, i love this script.
• Oh, Lestat did "mezmerized" Louis here (either accidentally or not idk), like he did with Paul later at the dinner. Hence, Louis says "not with my family".
• "Emasculation AND admiration in equal measure. I wanted to murder the man, and I wanted TO BE the man." Basically a summary of what attracts Louis to Lestat. 
• Lestat killing the white man with lamp scene is interesting if you consider what we watch as Louis' POV because logically Louis didn't see it as it happened in 1910. But the existence of this scene signals that 2022 Louis (or Louis after the fact) now knows that Lestat did prowling the city during the night killing people. Iirc there will be more scenes like this.
• Help Sam and Jacob's chemistry right when their eyes meet each other 😭😭😭😭♥️
• Not @ Lestat dumbing himself down in front of the white men and Louis smiled adorably over it even though he probably knew that's just an act. We lost him so fast
• The practical effects are so cool.
• Lestat was like don't you know your value etc etc, yet he still did not back up Louis to Fenwick. The red flag is red flagging.
• "He's not revealed his vampire nature yet." But Louis definitely knows something is up with him (see: two instances of "mezmerize" and the time stop)
• That shot of Leslou in the mirror at the tailor is so cute 🥺
• "Mother loves European" Louis is so her son 😂
• "He ain't takin' it you getting married" Paul was indeed getting worse 😭
• Lestat being so taken aback with how blunt Paul is then taken aback over Louis' lying to his family he's not enjoying opera is so funny. 
• Sam's eyebrows definitely have a life of their own lol
• Louis gives Lestat's "violent and weird peculiarity" a pass unless it's toward his loved ones. Reminds me of that Jacob's interview on the domestic abuse in the show.
• The talk Leslou have while walking back to Lestat's house is really the summary of Louis' different "hats". "They sit in judgement. Paul is the only one to say it to my face"
• Louis' action vs words when Lestat asked him for a "nightcap" is 🤌
• I thought Lestat's hand is in Lily's skirt when she seemingly orgasm, but it isn't. His hand also doesn't explore too much on her at Fairplay Saloon either compared to what Louis' narration implies. Is it the show being careful how they touch women or is it some kind of "censor"? I need to pay attention to it later.
• The choreo between Leslou to make it look like they're fighting for control/dominance. This is A grade yaoi 🤌🤌🤌🤌
• Louis checking on Daniel whether he has ~ embraced his sexuality~ then describing his homosexual intimate moment with drugs to a former addict is a very deliberate choice. Daniel isn't the only one digging in this interview.
• Drinking blood from another in an intimate setting feels extremely intimate
• Gosh Paul doesn't even want Levi to touch him
• The tap dance scene 😭 Paul 😭
• Paul spiralling down pre-wedding, seemingly angry during the wedding, eating a lot, remembering their best time, checking on Louis and Grace, saying I love you. Yeah, he definitely did it himself 🥲
• I know the night sky is a green screen, but the lights hit Louis' face so beautifully. I don't know how they did it 
• Florence 😡😡😡😡
• "Miss Lily proved herself a poor subtitute" Lestat 😡😡😡😡😡
• Lestat is completely out of touch with humanity, he only cares about himself.
• Finnick must think it's very weird that he has to keep Lestat away from Louis that he gets his arm broken but the next time they meet, Leslou are close again 😅
• Daniel Hart slaying with the score 🤌🤌🤌🤌
• Louis connects the dots when he hears Lily got the "fever" 😞
• Jacob's acting at the confession. The score filling the space over his voice. The mixing tuned up perfectly when Lestat snatching the priest. 🤌
• Lestat knocked down two lamps, one is so far away from the confession, to give proper lighting is so funny lol. (I know it's shooting necessity but still 😂)
• Sam definitely has a subwoofer in his throat wtf (I'm listening with earphones)
• You can see Sam hasn't used to talk with his fangs on here.
• The camera trick after Lestat punched the priest is so clever.
• I wonder what Lestat is hearing during his proposal scene, because he definitely gets Louis the moment he says he loves him. The change in Louis' face 🥲
• Sam's eye acting during the part laid over with Louis' narration. That part will always be my Roman Empire 
• "For the first time in my life, I was seen". Not "felt seen". He's still sure that that's a fact. 
• Louis already gives little nods the moment Lestat finished "for eternity" 🥲🥲🥲🥲
• Jacob's whole monologue during the turn 🤌🤌🤌
• "He sat there, radiant" *while Lestat's is laying down, catching his breath* Louis' narration is more "flowery" than the recollection?
Summary: I'm extremely impressed with how much we know about Louis' personality (especially the contradiction in himsef) just from the script of this episode. Alan Taylor trusts Jacob and Sam's ability a lot to do a lot of close-ups and just let their faces tell the story. Louis' costumes, scores, and audio mixing are perfection.
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magical-awesome-kid · 2 years
Text
DP x DC AU.
Danny Phantom has been the King of the Infinite Realms, a halfa, and hero for thousands of years now. He, by all accounts, is considered a god or Eldrich abomination (or both), which means his power levels are par to few/none. Under his reign, his planet Earth found massive peace (religious wars were stopped simply by asking people there, pre-meditated murder went out the window when the risk of them coming back as a ghost was very real, and Fenton Technologies compounded with Ghost Zone technologies had completely changed the course of human evolution).
Danny learned how to rule and does so well. He does it so well that the afterlife basically runs itself now. Sure, disputes still happen, fights still break out, but they're small affairs compared to how things used to be. As the King of the Zone, his mere presence has healed much of the cracks and fissures that had occurred under Pariah, and, even in a place where death and life mix as well as his own DNA mixes with Ectoplasm, where one minute there's a sudden influx of the dead just as a new species is born from the mythos of old, it's quite a content place to be. With the dimension's growth, so, too, has Danny, now looking like a man in his thirties, lean and strong but comforting all the same (he can never quite die due to his halfa status, but he stopped aging normally around the time he turned thirty-three - he now can appear however old or young he feels, and, after his family passed, he reverted back to his younger man days, which he felt was when things seemed to settle around him).
But, well... Danny is bored as hell.
Now, he's been looking to stretch his legs in the land of the living again. He's been a Zone Body for nearly 2500 years now, only making trips to his own dimension when called upon for input and to sit in on galactic meetings, but, even then, he's got tons of people who can stand in for him. Danielle, appearing as a late-twenties, early-thirties woman usually going by Ellie or El these days, is considered the Princess of the Realms and leads up exploration teams on different dimensions that have either pinched off from the realms, forming fully-living or fully-dead places, and better charting the healing process and anything they need to step in personally (while considered the 'land of the dead,' the Infinite Realms is more akin to a purgatory, connecting, well, infinite dimensions where life and death exist more exclusively, acting as a bridge, a binding agent, between time and space).
Danny decides to appoint his top advisors (largely still Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, who have become ghosts and, as royal appointees, have access to all afterlifes and free pass to go and come as they please, as well as some trusted long-time allies like Clockwork and Pandora) to keep eyes on everything for him while he takes a 'short scouting mission' with Danielle (i.e. maybe take a break).
Ellie and Danny head off to the next dimension on the list, and, as soon as they hit the ground running, it's immediately clear that this one is filled with issues.
While the general rule is that they don't meddle in dimensional affairs, this dimension, right off the bat, REEKS of stale Ectoplasm. Like it's been broken off and re-attached incorrectly to the Infinite Realms, and thus the normal flow of ectoplasm has stalled. This can cause a lot of complications, especially for people who come into contact with said ectoplasm. It's also a dimension of heroes and villains, which immediately kicks Danny's protective instincts into high gear.
Ellie manages to keep them on track... until they find out about a clone who's been treated horribly by both of his 'parents' even though he's done nothing wrong.
Then... yeah. She doesn't mind staying a little longer.
So yeah, they may be meddling, but this dimension needs help! They swear!
(The Justice League doesn't know what's about to hit them when two new, absolute power houses come on scene, one instantly going out of their way to adopt Young Justice, but mostly Superboy, while the other starts spearheading global unification in the most convoluted of ways. Well, except Constantine, who takes one look at the two heroes, INSTANTLY recognizes them, and nopes the fuck out. He's heard stories of the Ghost King and Ghost Princess, and, while pillars of goodness and justice, they are also known to be absolute hellions, and he's dealt with actual hell creatures).
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randynova · 2 years
Note
Lookism DG? Imagine a badass unconscious Y/n who’s like a fem Daniel? What will DG do? ❤️ Thanks, I appreciate you!
𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒜𝓉 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉
ᴅɢ/ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ʟᴇᴇ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ? : ʏᴇs
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐃𝐆 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 — 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 — 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭.
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A.N.: Sksksjk, thank youuu! And I hope you enjoy this one! 
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Running paths with DG in his youth led both of your lives down a different path, more than surprised when you both met your match. At the time of your meeting, when he still possessed his identity as James Lee, he ran into you while in the midst of a fight with a gang of the First Generation. It’s as if you were a deadly white shadow.
Meeting someone who fought brutally while unconscious is a feat he never expected — shattering his wrist and ribs all whilst never breaking a sweat, it truly humbled him. Yet, the same could be said for you when he dislocated your shoulders and crushed your patella.  Truly you were a force to be reckoned with and he had a difficult time keeping up with every punch and kick you threw at him, distracted by the black empty hues staring back at him.
One would say, it was love at first fight for you two. James grew a sort of infatuation with the woman, charmed by your insatiable need to beat him to a pulp. God, just something about a woman that could kill him had his heart pounding wildly and face flushing. He just had to meet you again.
Your second meeting did come sooner than anticipated but it came to be a surprise when he realized you were dueling with Gun, later he found out per Charles request —
Find the Phantom of Gangbuk and recruit them, perhaps then we would rid the trouble they cause for us.
Yet  James couldn’t help but watch in amusement when the gangster struggled to lay a hit on you, yet his eyes stayed glued to you, mesmerized by your dance of destruction as you laid blow after blow upon bruised inked skin, the same void gaze as Gun’s staring down at him as the man wilted. A semblance of a smile set itself on Jame’s features, resting his chin on his palm as he witnessed the fight unfold. To say the end was unsatisfying — Goo jumping in and knocking you fully unconscious with a jab to the back of your head with the handle of his sword — James knew how and where to find you.
And you hated it — at first.
Though you both started off as rivals, avoiding him as even being in the same room as the man led to both of you down each other's throats,  — James taunting you and you insulting him — it soon melted into one of mutual respect and care for one another. In your own special, aggressive way.
Though the title of couple became official a year afterwards, the two of you sometimes had your differences in term of social events. As so, he wishes he knew how to convince you to join him at his club, not avoid it like the plague.
Now as DG, he became a bit more open with you yet, could not help the disappointment of your dwindling quality time with him discourage the man and he indulged in Gun, who gladly accepted the invitation in exchange for a chat.
"Why would you date someone so….that? So unpredictable?" Gun grunts, lighting a cigar, taking a long deep drag before puffing out a cloud of smoke. The gangster slouched against the pink leather cushions, ignoring the calls from Goo as he danced in the pool with the girls. Hearing DG’s confession of dating you made Gun flinch, finally making understanding, as to why you turned down his advances before — nearly murdering him. Not that he minded. "A monster in the shape of a woman, huh….? She could destroy you one day while she's unconscious…."
Nothing I haven’t heard before, the man thought. DG stayed silent, playing with his drink and stirring the golden liquid around with his straw. The point of injury had already been made a couple years prior, yet it did not deter him from sticking around. In short, it only made DG all the more interested in you, charmed by your quick wit when he confronted you. He could still recall the chills he got when he finally saw the bright [E/C] eyes staring back at him. Smiling softly, he replied to Gun, his mind wandering to you. "She already did… Is that important?"
Gun scoffed, placing the cigar in between his lips and letting it trickle from the corners of his mouth. "No, I don't think so — seems like my kind of woman, really." Upon finishing his sentence, the popstar looks up at the man upon hearing the comment, narrowing his eyes as annoyance etched into his features. Though, Gun paid no mind and let his head lull back.  "But you shouldn't be so careless around her when she's in that state. Mm, she could really kill you…."
"I'm not careless. [Name] is my shadow and with her, I'm stronger…." The memory of every fight since meeting you had DG feeling nostalgic, the ends of his mouth twitching. The memory of you fluidly maneuvering through the crowd like a serpent in sea, disappearing out of sight with such speed, you practically flew as you kept his opponents at bay from attacking. The man sighed deeply, almost in a trance, " Afterall, 'To larger sight, the rim of the shadow is the line of light'. We complete each other but….” DG trailed off, sighing in a sort of defeat.
Gun sits up slowly, arching a brow at the man across from him, waiting for him to continue. It seemed odd. All of a sudden, the man spoke highly of you yet the hesitation that followed served to intrigue the gangster.
DG breathes out, clicking his tongue,“To me, she's… scary." He takes a sip of his drink, letting the alcohol run down his throat, leaving a bittersweet taste in its wake. God, if you were here to hear him say that, he would be met with the melody of your honeydew laughter, teasing him for admitting it so openly. Oh, now he’s starting to miss you again. The ache in his chest grew, wondering what you were doing tonight at your job.
The statement was true to an extent. You’re scary when you’re mad but your anger is usually directed to the girls trying to get into your boyfriend’s pants or the men making advances towards you. His fear was just as common as every man had to their girl and justifiable. But his fear extended to your unconscious state as well.
A grin stretches across Gun's face and he lets out a laugh, not quite expecting the man who helped create the four crews to fear you of all people. "Scary? Why?" he asks, amused.
DG thought about Gun's words, letting the simple question sink in. 
As the [Name] [Last Name] – a powerful woman with a right hook that leaves anyone buckling – were famed for being the Hidden Genius raised by Charles Choi, and the Shadow of James Lee. With a target on your back, you were a walking time bomb for many.
The particular reason you were considered one,  since you were considered the Hidden Genius and Shadow of James Lee, was due to your ability to fight without being conscious — with the intent to kill. Once you enter this state, you leave a trail of blood in your wake. With a blazing fire burning throughout your body, muscles screaming for mercy as your mind transitioned to mental plane boarding hysteria, you entered the state of ultra-instinct.
DG has seen it with Gun and seeing it with you had been almost as if he were in the presence of an archangel. And everytime he saw you in that state, he felt himself falling in love all over again.
Just recently, he came to know you were in charge of keeping the newly formed gangs in Gangbuk from rising to power like Ansan. According to Charles, your mission is to keep them at bay until the group itself dissolves on its own. DG just wished he didn’t leave you alone with such a task. With your charming smile and sweet voice, many of the crooked men trusted you and as much as he disliked the thought of another man touching you, you took advantage of that vulnerability — crushing them. You exploited your enemy’s weakness and defeated them without a second thought.
And DG loved that about you.
DG spoke up, staring up at Gun with a glazed look, surprising the man across from him. "When [Name] fights, she fights to kill and survive. But she won't stop unless she wakes up or falls asleep….”
Gun hums, glancing at Goo for a moment to make sure the blonde bastard didn’t cause any trouble. "Well, what do you do then?"
DG’s mind trailed once more, gaze falling to the floor. The resolve both of you found to work had been one based on pure luck, one he tried out of instinct as he had no other clue on how to deal with your behavior at the time without hurting you. The moment seemed to play like a record in his head, closing his eyes as he recalled the night so clearly.
Diego gripped the back of your neck with a rigid hold, palm against your nape, pressing the pads of his fingers to the sides of your throat firmly. You couldn't move your head, writhing against him as you attempted to swing your legs to kick him, elbows digging into his torso, trying to get free. 
Small grunts left him, gritting his teeth at the hard edge of your arm rammed into his ribs and the soles of your boots dug into his feet, his limbs throbbing at every blow you landed. Truly, he was at his wits end and desperate for a way to stop before he snapped himself.
He only had a window of three seconds to hold you in a different position that the one he currently had you in. And if his years of fighting taught him anything, it took less than a second for an opponent to land a blow, but at least five to regain composure. Considering his position, he was more inclined to take the chance of experimenting than having both of you coming out with stitches.
For a moment, Diego let go of you, counting in his head as he took hold of your bicep and spun you around on your heels, pressing you flush against his chest. If anything, he knew this was a chance worth taking to avoid injuring you.
Pressing his lips against your own, holding your wrists in his hands tightly, DG closed his eyes and stayed still. Seconds passed and slowly, he felt you stop squirming. As your bloodlust began to dissolve, your body began to regain its senses, mind now processing all the sensations wracking your form —- from new to familiar. Almost instantly did you go numb, twisting violently in his grasp and nipping at the man before you. 
But DG refused and deepened the kiss.
Diego’s lips were soft and warm, a contrast to the busted and cold ones of your own, and despite his firm grip, his touch remained gentle. The way his heart painted a tattoo to your sternum from how loud it pounded grounded you, the memories of the nights in your bed flooding your mind. The phantom touch of his arms around you made you shudder, back arching and pressing yourself closer into him.
The smoldering flame within your body began to flicker, welcoming the man as the fog began to clear up. Your arms shook in his grasp, slowly relaxing against him as your eyes fluttered shut, melting against him. The bliss he exerted, the adoration he poured into the kiss, it just felt right — so inviting and mellow, why wouldn’t you turn away from ultra-instinct?
It didn’t take long for you to fall limp, leaning into him as your knees began to buckle. At last, did you leave your unconscious fighting state and slip into a peaceful slumber. Poor thing, your energy must have been drained and you were perhaps already handing on a thin thread as it was!
Carefully, he let your body collapse and fall to the floor slowly, hands guiding you, and settling you down. As much as he wanted to admire your tranquil state, it’d be best to take you back to your shared apartment before any gangsters came across him.
Slithering a hand under you, Diego hooked an arm under your legs and wrapped his other hand firmly to your shoulder.  He hoisted you into the air, your head lulling and resting in his chest, snoring softly. He scoffed.
Who knew you were a sucker for his kisses unconscious as much as you were awake?
“It’s a private matter as to what method we use to help her…,” DG mutters, paying no mind to the flush of his ears and looking at his phone as a way to ignore Gun’s further inquiries. The bright display of the notification made his eyes light up, your text making his chest flutter. With the times you two avoided each other due to work, receiving a heartfelt message from you during those times made waiting for you worthwhile and even more eager to see you again.
Even if the whole world questioned his decision to be with such a strong woman, DG wouldn’t regret his decision — because it was you. He would never regret you. He was yours and yours alone, and vice versa. Besides, what other woman was willing to dominate him in both the streets and the sheets?
You were of course.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
©ʀᴀɴᴅʏɴᴏᴠᴀ || ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ || ɴᴏ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴇᴅɪᴛs, ᴄᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ, ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ, ᴇᴛᴄ. ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs.
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
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nextstopwonderland · 11 months
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Masterlist of BCC related (mostly) audiovisual content I’ve posted*
*bc we archive shit up in this joint
(Newly pinned post. If you came looking for my ofmd Taika/Rhys masterlist, it’s here)
Here be general BCC & BryanMox content.
Broken out additional individual pages (because I keep hitting the links limit) are here:
Bryan & Wheeler content
Bryan & Nigel content
Bryan and Claudio content
Just Bryan
Bryan/ZSJ timeline/primer
Fannish content (fic/mixes/graphics)
Masterlist of fanvids/fancams
Please do not repost any of my video or photo edits anywhere else.
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Blackpool combat club - general
Graphics
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(Alt version)
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(Original post)
Video clips
Mox discusses Wheeler doing the Super Juniors
In which I discover the bcc full house vid
Wheeler discusses Mox & Bryan helping him with promos
Wheeler discusses texts with Mox & Bryan
Claudio discusses the bcc
Mox puts over the BCC
Wheeler discusses being good enough for the BCC with Renee
“The BCC is so close”
the BCC is all about escalation!
“Nigel’s awesome” - Yuta talks Nigel McGuinnesss + the BCC
Claudio swings Nana & Yuta dances
Claudio swings Nana again & this time he dances
“They beat me into the ground.” - Yuta’s promo ahead of facing Shibata
Wheeler’s second Shibata promo
There isn’t just a group chat, there’s a BOOK CLUB
“Blackpool combat club has plans in Japan.” - Mox talks Bryan & BCC
"Guess what? BCC? We don't take that shit." Bryan announces BCC is coming to Arena Mexico (and calls out Blue Panther)
Claudio & Yuta being protective after Bryan’s match
The differences in the Mexico City arrivals
Behind the scenes in Arena Mexico
“Im still breathing you’re still breathing” - Arena Mexico post match
Audio clips
Wheeler Yuta podcast compilation
Pre-BCC Yuta on wrestlesplainia
“He’s the oldest young person I know” - the coffee saga continues
Fanvids
Bryan in Charge: a sitcom fanvid set to Charles in Charles
You’re the Final Girl: a babyMox fanvid (includes graphic)
Text
Bryan really loves the BCC (includes photos and lots of Wheeler focus)
Trevor sums up the BCC
Claudio on the BCC (photo/quotes compilation)
Claudio + Coffee (photo/quotes compilation)
Claudio + BCC merch
They did the merch thing!
Claudio envisions Tswift + BCC
“One day he will look and me and Bryan won’t be there.” (Includes photos)
They leveled up on the merch thing
“The BCC book club helps us stay connected” (photo/quotes compilation)
Mox likes Bryan’s book club choice (photo/quotes compilation)
Photos
After the parking lot match
After All Out
Bcc + Edge
Claudio: whatta man
Behind the scenes BCC pics
BCC collision pics
BCC after dynamite
Some 2009 roh photos (includes Bryan, Claudio and Nigel)
BCC pose in Arena Mexico
Them tho
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Bryanmox
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Video Clips (includes DeanDaniel era)
Daniel and The Mountie
Daniel “Yes’s”, Dean giggles
Dean learns the Yes Kick from guest referee Daniel. (better version)
Daniel down with the unscripted violence even back then
Dorky murder club husbands look at toys together
Bryan discusses the thrill of bleeding, which he and Mox share
Bryan discusses BCC birth
Mox praises Bryan
Mox searches for words, uses Bryan’s
Mox discusses being happy with Bryan/BCC after rehab
Daniel Bryan picks Dean Ambrose; Dean reacts
Peace love & pro wrestling
Daniel & Dean tell you how to watch YouTube vids
Post-Grand Slam hugs and belt wrapping
Daniel all about referee Dean
Mox + Bryan + tag team in Seattle? Mox wants it
Bryan Danielson pisses baby Mox off
“I came here to do a favor for my friend Bryan Danielson” - Arena Mexico post match
“One of the best things about Jon is he’s really good at getting behind his opponents”
Video Compilations / Fanvids/Fancams
Daniel-n-Dean: the wwe friends to lovers buddy comedy years
Doin’ it Their Way - the Laverne & Shirley sitcom fanvid
You’re my best friend - Mox making Bryan laugh fancam (screencap inspiration)
Give him a great big kiss - bryanmox famcam
You and Me Song: fanvid
BCC Origins series:
“It’s a real thing/can’t think of a reason to say no” - Bryan and Mox discuss origins of Blackpool Combat club as a shoot (YouTube)
“Sometimes I have to pinch myself” - Bryan and Mox praise each other/discuss similarities (YouTube)
“It very naturally happened” - Bryan and Mox discuss Wheeler joining the BCC
“I’m convinced he’s an alien” - Bryan and Mox discuss Claudio joining the BCC
When Bryan met Jon:
“It just made me want it more” - a meet ugly for the ages (YouTube)
Bryan discusses their first meeting (text quote + video)
Bryan discussing their instant chemistry
Love (Story) at First Fight (fanvid)
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Part 2 of the Bryan & Mox masterlist
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superliz6 · 2 months
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Consider this a PSA or a word of caution or whatever, but I’ve been seeing some mutuals/people i follow unwittingly reblog Zionist talking points in a well-intentioned effort to show solidarity with Jewish people.
I’m assuming like a lot of western people you probably have been discouraged from looking into the politics of what is happening between “Israel” and Palestine and have started seeing blogs raise red flags about the rise in antisemitism as of late- that’s all well and good but a lot of these posts are actually finessing the Zionist narrative by lumping things like the BDS Movement in with swastikas and the like.
BDS is a tool of liberation for Palestinians who are currently occupied and undergoing genocide at the hands of the Zionist entity or Israel. Israel has poured a lot of money into propaganda conflating the religion of Judaism and the State of Israel. Zionist cynically wield Judaism as a shield against criticism of their colonial brutality and state-sponsored slaughter.
Holding Israel accountable for genocide is not antisemitism.
Please just read these posts carefully. If someone’s blog tells you they are a Zionist, take them at their word and hit that block button.
Zionists are the same as Nazis, they just have different uniforms.
Edit:
I'm actually going to add the tags here: anyway look up the Nakba look into BDS look into Israel’s shoot to kill policy for children Google their shoot to maim policy #Google sterilized streets #Google Ahmad Mansra #look into Palestinian land seizure #look up the story of the Hadid family in 1948 #look up Rachel Corrie #israel has been getting away with Nazi shit for almost a century by saying it’s antisemitic to criticize their govt #don’t fall for that shit
And if you want recommendations for works by Anti-Zionist Jews I would recommend Norman Finklestein whose parents were holocaust survivors or Gabor Mate who is a holocaust survivor himself or his son, Daniel Mate. Or you can follow the actvist work of Jews like Madea Benjamin or holocaust survivor Marione Ingram.
And if you want first hand information from Israeli soldiers on the ground in Gaza you can download telegram and follow their channel "dead terrorists" where they upload videos of themselves humiliating, torturing and murdering men, women, and CHILDREN. Like by running zip tied children over with a tank. And don't forget to note all the laughing emojis under each video.
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hi!!! I absolutely adore your writing,female characters are so underappreciated! :< could I request the huntress, the spirit, the pig, and maybe danielle dimitrescu (if that's not too many characters) with a gn!reader who's very flirtatious when they should be intimidated? tysm in advance, have a nice day ^^!!
Aww, thank you so much hun! <3 <3 I'm glad you like it!! Sorry this took so long :') Here you go, giving the girls the rizz.
Huntress, Pig, Spirit & Daniela Dimitrescu x gn! Flirtatious reader
The Huntress
Anna could confidently say everyone she had met up to this point in her life was intimidated by her. She was a hunter, and even if they hadn't realized it yet, they would be the prey. You, of course, were different. She had reflexively lifted her hatchet at the sight of someone, keeping it raised as you made your flirty advancement. That took her aback. To be unswayed by her and try to gain her affections?
Lowering the hatchet, she stared down at you with her shiny black eyes behind her mask. When you do not falter, she bends down to make eye contact. Placing the blunt top of her hatchet against your chest, she gently rests it against your breastbone.
"You are silly prey" her voice was gruff from disuse and a thick accent, "Walking to a hunter." Pulling her hatchet back to her side, she stepped forwards to be looming over you, maintaining eye contact. She was clearly waiting to see what your plan was now, but now she had the slightest smile on her face.
The Spirit
Rin had no idea how long she had been dead, exacting her rage into helpless survivors. In her time, however, she had learned that survivors typically backed away from her as she manifested herself next to them. It was anticlimactic for you to turn at her and hit her with a smile even as her katana had already been drawn from her own arm.
She couldn't help but pause, tilting her head and her joints crackling as she shifted around. When you flirted with her immediately, she just sat there staring at you with a slightly gaping mouth. The rage that encompassed her softened for a moment as she was hit with a rare memory from her past of such softness, before her murder.
It didn't feel real to hear and left her reeling. In a way that was almost shy, she phased away, deciding to just avoid you for as long as she could. When she was able to be alone again, she couldn't get the interaction out of her head. If anything could warm her frozen heart it was that smile you had given her, and she wasn't going to avoid you for long once she figured herself out.
The Pig
With a roar, she tackled you to the ground, her hidden blade digging into the flesh over your ribs as she wrestled you underneath her. She sat up, ramming her knee into your chest to keep you down on your back as she reached to grab a bear trap from her belt.
Amanda's pig head mask damn near flew off her body as she snapped her head back to stare at you when she heard you purr out a compliment. She couldn't have possibly heard you right. But you continued to flirt, not wiggling a bit under her weight, not fighting even as Amanda unhooked a trap. Amanda's thin hands were clutching the piece of metal as if she was frozen staring down at you.
She tilted her head, reaching a hand under your head to lift you up towards her, never breaking direct eye contact through the masks beady emotionless eyes. She let herself twist her fingers into your hair before bringing the trap around to snap it onto your head.
"Very cute." She leaned forwards as she cranked the trap into place, breath fanning over you face. "If you get out of this, we'll have to have a date or something." With that, she shoved herself off of you and continued her hunt like nothing had happened.
Daniela Dimitrescu
Oh, she liked you. She loved you matching her energy even as she had you at her mercy. Her venomous yellow eyes were glittering as she held you tightly in front of her.
"Look at you! You're really not scared at all?" Her face was close to yours, and as you continued to give her honeyed words her grin stretched wider, the blood at the edges of her mouth cracking a bit.
Pulling you closer to her, she entertained no idea of you pulling away and it was entirely your doing. Dragging her face along your neck, smelling your blood in a deep breath. Your pulse wasn't racing yet, and she did find that a little annoying. Weren't you excited?
"I didn't even have to try to make you fall for me... and you smell so good." She purred with her chest pressed against yours, her wild strands of hair brushing against your face. "You're a treat I'll have to savor... I hope I can convince mother to let me keep you."
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stardustbarbarians · 1 month
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To the Hunter From the Prey
A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic
Summary: Sam takes Danny under his wing.
Tags: serial killer au, addiction (but not to drugs), smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), unprotected sex, degradation, oral, bondage
Trigger Warnings: blood, death, murder (graphically described), mentioned racism {if I miss any please tell me}
Words: 8.4 k
A/N: Yeah I just wanted them to fuck nasty. I'm not apologizing. Also, yes, I already published this, but idc I changed the ending. Part two to Everything Leaves You Hungry. Title taken from Call Me Little Sunshine by Ghost. Enjoy!! <3
+++
“Have Sam and Daniel gotten closer? Or is it just me?” Josh asked his twin while they sat alone in the living room. It seemed to have come out of nowhere, the question. The two of them were in their own worlds, the joint they were smoking aiding in that feeling. 
It took a moment for Jake to understand what Josh had said to him, his brain moving sluggishly. “They’re usually always joined at the hip as is. I don’t know how you can get any closer than that. Having to kill someone in order to save your best friend will do that to people.” 
Josh exhaled his hit, coughing as he passed it over to his brother. Jake took the blunt, unphased by his twin’s hacking. Cough to get off and all that. It was a few seconds later that Josh finally composed himself and spoke again. 
“It just seems like they’ve got a secret that we don’t know about…” Josh continued, recalling all the whispered conversations they’ve shared over the past few months. While it was something they had done from time to time, it hadn’t happened this frequently before. There also seemed to be a shift in dynamic between them. 
“My money’s on they’re fucking,” Jake answered in a very blasé way. He’d had his suspicions about how Sam looked at his best friend. 
“Dude, ew! That’s our brothers you’re talking about!” Josh exclaimed in disgust. He did not need to think about Sam or Danny in that context under any circumstances. 
“Oh, please. Like you wouldn’t climb Daniel like a fucking tree given the chance,” Jake argued, passing the blunt back over to his twin, “that man is a god if I’ve ever seen one.” 
Josh silently took the rello from his brother, ruminating over what Jake had said to him. The more he thought about it, the more his cheeks flushed. “Ok, but that’s different,” he muttered under his breath. 
Just after Josh finished speaking, a clamor of two different voices and giggles stumbled into the living room. The twins looked up from their spots on the floor to find Danny and Sam staring back at them. The smiles they wore quickly faded, surprise taking its place on the rhythm section’s faces. They clearly weren’t expecting anyone to be around. 
“Hey guys,” Jake greeted after a particularly awkward pause. 
“Hi,” Daniel responded, nervously tucking his hair behind his ear. Josh noted that it looked a lot more disheveled than usual. Actually, they both looked a lot more unkempt than they normally were. 
“What were you two up to?” Josh questioned, ashing the blunt in his hand before passing it over to Jake. The tension in the air was so thick you could suffocate on it. The silence was so goddamn loud, it was like a fifth unwanted guest that refused to be ignored or to leave. 
At the question, Daniel looked to Sam for an answer. If he didn’t know any better, Josh would say that Danny was nervous. But why? It was just a question. 
“Daniel and I went for a walk,” Samuel simply answered. The twins recognized that subtle but razor sharp edge in their brother’s voice that meant they should drop the subject. It meant they would catch hell if they tried to press for more information. 
Knowing when to back off, Jake just nodded. “Hope it was a good one.” He didn’t fail to notice the way Daniel grabbed onto Sam’s hand for support. 
Not wasting the opportunity to slip away, Sam used the hold Danny had on his hand and escorted him up the stairs and away from the critical and watchful eyes of the twins. After they reached the top of the steps, the twins heard them burst into a bout of giggles that was only silenced by the slamming of a door. 
Once that door closed, Jake and Josh shared a look. Jake’s eyebrows were raised as if he was waiting for Josh to speak, like he was urging him. 
With a sigh, Josh relented. “Fine. You’re right. They’re probably sleeping together.” 
While the twins analyzed rhythm section’s body language and interaction, there was a crucial detail they failed to notice in that dim room. The hand that Daniel had grabbed onto Sam with was coated in red, flaking, dried blood. 
+++
Daniel was on victim number number two. Well, he was about to be, anyway. He was thankful that Sam was with him as this wasn’t something he was particularly ready to do by himself yet. He knew Sam was nearly perfect at murder (nine victims and only a slight brush with the law) so he knew it would be idiotic not to enlist his help. In fact, it was Samuel himself who urged Daniel to essentially shadow him. 
“You will never walk alone in this if you don’t want to,” Sam offered to his best friend, a warm hand on his shoulder as he made sincere eye contact. Daniel put his hand on top of Sammy’s in a gesture of thanks. 
Ever since that night in Ohio, it seemed that Sam was always at Daniel’s side. Everywhere he looked, Sam would be within an arm’s length away; even if he was out of sight, Sam would often tell Daniel to call him at any time. “You can always reach me,” he declared. 
He was oddly defensive of him, too. Well, more than usual. Sam was always protective of those he loved, but it seemed like he had become somewhat of Danny’s personal protector. If he had his way, nothing bad would ever happen to Daniel ever again. 
There was a point during the trial where it really looked like the two of them were going to be convicted for murder. Daniel, understandably, was freaking out over the possibility of being in jail for potentially the rest of his life. The two of them were in a room with their lawyers, Danny pacing back and forth as his mind ran itself in circles. Nothing their legal team was saying to him was helping; it was in through one ear and out the other. 
Nothing was able to quell his anxiety, save for Sam. 
“Daniel, you are not going to prison. I won’t let you,” he vowed, holding Danny’s face in his hands as he spoke to make sure he was paying attention. As the words his best friend spoke truly sank in, he was finally able to relax. For whatever reason, Danny knew that Sam was telling the truth. He would do everything in his power to make sure that Daniel would be safe and free. He let himself be pulled into Sammy’s embrace, basking in the safety that was his presence. 
Sam would later reveal that his plan was to take the fall for the whole thing and confess to being the sole killer. Danny didn’t know how to handle that. Would he have let Sam do that? Could he have stopped him? Thank god he didn’t have to find out. 
Even though he tried his best to not show it, that trial took its toll on Sam as well. He managed to stay composed most of the time, but Daniel knew Sam too well to be fooled. However, that cool, collected facade broke right before the end of the trial. 
Unfortunately, it had garnered the attention of the world. Two rock musicians whose band’s entire message was to spread peace on trial for murder? It was every news outlet’s dream. They were used to attention like that, but not to the extent that they saw during the trial. 
For the most part, they handled it well. They kept their heads down and ignored all the questions they were asked. That is, until one reporter cut deep under their skin with a particularly invasive one. 
“Danny! Does this murder tie into your alleged racist past?” she asked, her voice managing to raise above all the other clamor of questions. 
Danny hadn’t even heard her at first. It wasn’t until Sam froze dead in his tracks that her words fully sank in. The drummer watched as his best friend slowly turned to look at the reporter. There was a barely contained fiery rage burning unadulterated in his eyes, but somehow there was also something so frigid about his anger. Daniel knew that look. It was the gaze of a man who was capable of committing the worst atrocity known to humanity; murder. 
As he locked his gaze onto the reporter, everyone seemed to stop. Everyone was watching with bated breath; they knew she had achieved her goal of garnering a response out of them. 
But at what cost?
When Sam flashed a dazzling smile, that’s when everyone relaxed. Except Daniel. He became more on edge. Sammy was beyond furious and he knew that. He was trying to come up with plans on how to carry Sam out of there before things resorted to bloodshed when Sam spoke. 
“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked in a sweet tone, too sweet. At that point, every other journalist had parted in order to give Sam some face-to-face interaction with her. 
“Sam-” Daniel had tried to intervene, stepping up to be between the two of them. Without even so much as taking his eyes off the reporter, Sam grabbed Daniel’s arm and gently guided him so that Danny was standing behind him; almost as if he was acting as a human shield for Danny. 
“I asked if this murder has any correlation to Danny’s alleged racist past,” she repeated. She had no idea that she just sealed her fate. 
“Ah. Well, you see - what is your name?” 
“Jess Martin from the National Enquirer,” she informed, half paying attention as she tried to look over Sam’s shoulder to see Danny. “While we’re talking, there’s rumors that the two of you are perhaps more than just ‘friends’. Care to comment on that?” 
She’s a tabloid reporter
Sam chuckled charmingly, flashing his dazzling white smile to win over the crowd. “One question at a time, Jess. You see, this trial has nothing to do with Daniel’s ‘past’. Anyone who does their research on us would know this. As such, this is a case of self-defense. Now, tell me, does saving your best friend from being threatened with a knife have anything to do with whether or not someone made a mistake as a young teenager?” 
He looked out at the crowd for an answer to his question. There were murmurs of doubt that rippled through the air; they sided with Sam. When he figured that out, a satisfied smile crept its way onto his lips. Daniel watched on in wonderment as he was able to not only verbally decimate someone carefully as to make it seem as if he wasn’t, but also have an entire group of people that were previously against him take his side. Daniel had never been afraid of his best friend before. It seemed there was a first for everything. 
“Exactly. Now, do you have any questions of actual substance? Or shall we find a better use of our time that doesn’t involve speaking to low-rate, bottom feed-” 
“Alright, that’s enough,” Daniel quickly interrupted, placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders and turning him away from the reporter. 
“What are you doing?” Sam hissed. 
“Saving our public image.” And with that, Danny dragged the bassist away from the crowd and towards the car that was waiting for them in front of the courthouse. 
As he was walking Sam towards that car, however, Daniel knew it wouldn’t be the last he’d see of Jess Martin. 
And he was right. 
Seven months after their verdict of not guilty, they had become old news. The only publications that were talking about Greta Van Fleet were music journals and the occasional tabloid that was still trying to cash in on their murder scandal. Because they were under the omnipresent and all-seeing eye of the media, they hadn’t been able to satiate their cravings. Normally, seven months was nothing for Samuel. But knowing that he just couldn’t made everything a thousand times worse. Daniel saw how that took its toll on Sam. 
All that pent up frustration manifested itself in Sam constantly plotting the perfect murder. For months, the two of them discussed the details of their next kill behind closed doors and in the comfort of only their shared company. It was their way of unwinding with all the stress of potential jail time hanging over their heads like a hangman’s noose. It was in those darkened rooms that Sam had imparted all of his knowledge on the perfect kill unto Daniel. 
However, it wasn’t until much later that Daniel was able to put that technique into practice. This murder was going to be much different from all the others Sam had committed. Not only because of the fact that Danny would be with him, but also due to them having a victim already picked out. 
Jess Martin - conveniently - lived just a few hours outside of Nashville. There was nothing spectacular about her residence; a modest ranch style home of which she was the sole resident. Jess Martin was unmarried, the only companion she had being her horse that she kept on her five acres. She had no neighbors for miles. It was almost too perfect. 
As per usual, the plan was to make it seem like a robbery gone wrong. Dressed head-to-toe in black, the two of them parked out of view of the house and crept up around the back. Luckily, it seemed Jess didn’t live in fear of robbers as the door was unlocked. Daniel followed Sam’s lead as he snuck into the house, his eyes scanning for security of any kind. Danny kept his eyes out for Jess, peering into room after room. 
Finally, they found her asleep on her couch. There was an old western playing on the tv, a bag of doritos sitting in her lap. Rhythm Section looked at one another, silently communicating their next course of action. Doing as Sam commanded, Daniel covered her mouth with one hand and the other pressed a knife to her throat: one that he took from her kitchen. 
At the sensation of cold metal and leather pressed against her skin, Jess startled awake. She attempted to either talk or scream, but her voice was muffled by Daniel’s hand. He could see the terror befall her face out of the corner of his eye as her sleep-muddled brain pieced together the situation she woke up in. 
“Hello, Jess Martin. Remember us?” Sam questioned in a very supercilious tone. He towered above her, the backlighting from the tv casting all kinds of shadows over his face. He looked imposing, terrifying. But not to Daniel. To him, Sam looked stunning in that low light. 
She didn’t respond at first. It seemed that she was desperately trying to recall anyone that would put her in that situation which, if his own personal experience with her was any indication, was probably more than a laundry list of souls. She struggled against Danny’s hold, trying to work away from the knife pressed to her throat. In reaction, he just held the blade a little closer to her throat; a warning. 
When she didn’t piece it together, that’s when Danny leaned in close to her ear. “Maybe if you look deep into your past, you’ll find who you’re looking for.” 
That seemed to strike a chord with her. Danny saw the recognition ignite within her eyes. 
“Yeah, she’s got it now. Thought we’d forgotten about you, huh, doll?” Samuel asked, crouching down to get on her level. Daniel heard the condescension in his tone, it was hard to miss. 
“How could we forget? She made herself so memorable,” Daniel added on, locking eyes with Sam and feeling a smile spread across his lips. Sam returned it, taking off a bit of the sharpness his features had taken on. 
“In fact, we never forgot you. For seven months, you’ve been on our minds.” Sam had tilted his head to the side, his hair spilling off his shoulders. 
At this point, he got up from the floor and clamped his hands down onto Jess’s wrists so that she was completely defenseless. Sam loomed over her, bent at the waist as to pin her hands onto the armrests of the chair she was in. He was close to her face, close to Daniel’s face. He could see all the emotions swimming inside Sam’s eyes, mesmerized by each little nuisance that separated each emotion from the last just by little changes in his facial expression. 
“We did our research on you. Does the FBI know you were at the capitol on January 6th?” Daniel questioned, gently moving the knife back and forth along the length of her throat. He reveled in the way her eyes split wide open in terror. 
In consequence of her reaction, Sam laughed, deep and twisted. “I’d venture to guess that they don’t.” 
“And you thought I was the one with a shady past,” Danny added, unable to help himself, “My mistake was almost a decade ago, can you say that?” 
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s not like she’ll be able to fundamentally change her belief system in the fleeting seconds she has left in her life,” Sam reasoned in an exasperated tone, shaking his head in disapproval. 
With that, Jess started to panic again, attempting to thrash out against her attackers. It was no use. Sam’s hold on her wrists was too strong and Daniel only pressed the knife harder into her throat. The pressure was enough to break skin, a small bead of bright red ichor sluggishly slipping down her neck. Daniel watched as Sam’s eyes lit up, transfixing on that single drop as if it were the most important and precious thing in the entire universe. 
“What do you say, buddy? You up to committing an act of god?” Samuel asked Danny, his eyes refusing to break away from the blood already spilled. 
Without another word, Daniel filled the role of a deity and slashed open Jess Martin’s throat. In one fluid motion, he managed to sever both her jugular veins and carotid arteries. 
Blood. 
It was flowing so freely from her neck, staining her clothes and skin. It managed to stream onto Daniel’s hand that was holding the knife, the warmth of it nothing but inviting and captivating. But nothing beat the purely blissed out look on Samuel’s face. Danny had never seen him so wholly satiated in his life. 
+++
Behind that closed door away from the twins, the two were able to finally chat about what they had just done that night. They were giggly, like they were both on an amazing high; and in a way, they were. There just wouldn’t be anything in a toxicology report that would attribute to their behavior. 
While Daniel was giddy about the whole experience, Sam was ecstatic and overly thrilled. Danny had seen Sam after his kills before and he was never this overjoyed. 
“You seem very thrilled about all this,” Danny observed, tracing the lines of Sam’s face that were illuminated by the soft and sallow glow of the single lamp in the room. Sam was sitting on the floor while Daniel was perched on the bed. 
Sam’s manic smile didn’t dim in the slightest, but he shook his head. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” 
It went silent after that, an unspoken something hanging in the air over both of them. Danny got the feeling that Sam knew exactly what it was that was looming over them. In fact, he was the cause of it and Danny knew it. But instead of trying to pry it out of his best friend, he just waited Sam out. 
So there they sat in that silent room. Staring at one another. But it was staring with a purpose; observing. They both studied the fine details of the other, categorizing them within their minds and ranking each nuance. 
It wasn’t until the air of the atmosphere took on a much softer edge that Sam broke that silence. 
“You know…” he started, seeming incredibly hesitant to finish his sentence. 
Again, Daniel just waited him out. 
“...I had always planned on making you one of my victims.” 
At first, Danny wasn’t sure he heard his best friend correctly. But then he turned it over in his mind again and again. He wasn’t mistaken. So many questions formulated in his mind and formed a confusing maelstrom of half baked sentences. To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. 
Finally, one was able to form completely and take precedence over all the others. 
“What stopped you?” 
That seemed to both surprise and amuse Sam, a bewildered chuckle escaping his lips. Sam couldn’t look Daniel in the eye, his gaze focused on his twiddling fingers. 
“I thought that seeing you covered in blood once would be enough…” 
Sam finally looked Daniel in the eyes. Danny felt the intensity of his gaze, his heart beginning to speed up inside of his chest. 
“I was wrong. Infinity will never be enough.” 
The smile that spread across his face was completely involuntary. He knew it was twisted and fucked up, but he couldn’t help it. There was something so brilliant about that statement, something so devoted. 
Daniel wasn’t aware of his actions. In fact, he wasn’t entirely certain he was fully in control of himself. There was just something so enticing and bewitching about Sam’s eyes… At least, that’s what he told himself as he lunged forward and smashed his lips into Samuel’s. 
Danny wouldn’t notice it until later after he had gone back and analyzed the interaction, but Sam didn’t seem even the slightest bit surprised that Danny had kissed him. No, he seemed fully prepared and immediately began reciprocating. The kiss got heated fast, Sam pushing Daniel onto his back and deepening the kiss. Danny felt his head spin, caught up in the whirlwind of their lightning fast, ever-changing relationship; he had just learned to roll with the punches. 
Hands roamed everywhere, Daniel’s managing to intertwine with the silk-like strands of Sam’s hair. One of them dislodged from Sammy’s locks and slid along the length of his back, sliding into the back pocket of Sam’s jeans, squeezing his ass. In retaliation to Danny’s act, Sam bit down onto the drummer’s bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. 
At the sweet metallic tang, the both of them moaned out. Sam began to suck on the split in Danny’s lip, needy whines slipping out at the increased taste of blood. Realizing what the effect his blood had on Sammy, Daniel detached from his lips and began using his bleeding wound to draw lines into Sam’s neck. He also employed his teeth to gouge marks into Sam’s beautiful throat, sucking and leaving marks that claimed Sam as Daniel’s. 
“Fuck, Daniel,” Sammy whined as Daniel bit down particularly hard. It was music to the drummer’s ears. Running his tongue over the path that his teeth had taken, Danny could feel the overly warm raised lines on Sammy’s skin.
When Sam let out another moan at the sensation of Danny’s tongue, arousal shot right down his veins. And alongside this spike in lust came a swell of strength. Wrapping his arms around Sam’s torso, Daniel adjusted their angle before throwing the bassist off of him and into the pillows. There was no hiding the surprise in Sam’s wide eyes nor how turned on he was. It was evident in the flush of his face and the way his breathing became heavy; not unlike the face he made while on stage. 
“Alright, way to show off, Hercules,” Sam snarked, his lips curled up in a venomous sneer that Danny had only exclusively seen aimed at those who annoyed Sam until this point. Yet no matter how hard he tried to mask it, Danny could hear how impressed he was at Danny’s strength in his tone. 
At the snide comment, Daniel chuckled darkly. The way Sam’s expression fell only made the drummer’s smirk grow, satisfaction flooding his veins. He began prowling over to Sam, caging him in slowly with each movement. It wasn’t until Daniel was perfectly on top of Sam that he spoke again. “Shut up, princess. I know you loved it.” 
Sam involuntarily shivered at the guttural tone Daniel employed. It was like a switch had flipped and all of the sudden his best friend was wafting off power and confidence. If Sam wasn’t turned on before, he certainly was now. It took everything he had in him not to just surrender to Danny and let him use Samuel however he damn well pleased; he wasn’t about to roll over and submit just yet - his pride wouldn’t let him. 
“Oh, yeah, you wanna be all tough and in charge, huh?” Sam had snaked his hand up into Danny’s curls, wrapping his hand around the base of his skull. 
Daniel was immediately suspicious. That question felt like a trap, like Sam was trying to play a specific angle. 
When the drummer didn’t respond, Sam brought up his other hand to the back of Danny’s head and yanked him down to be a few inches away from each other’s lips. “Then earn it.” 
Not needing to be told twice, Daniel slid his hands underneath his best friend’s thighs and hoisted him up. It was as if he blinked and then Sam had his back flush against the wall, his grip around Daniel tightening. He slammed Sam into that pale blue paint so hard that it caused the bassist to gasp from both surprise and the force shoving the air out of his lungs. 
Once pinned to the wall, Daniel shoved his lips onto Sam’s. It was at that moment that Daniel understood why Eve ate the apple. The temptation of indulging in something forbidden, of violating warnings and breaking rules, was a thrill second to none. To be enthralled in the velvety lips of his best friend was treacherously coaxing; he was the original sin.
Granulating lunges of hips produced filthy lamentation on the part of the bassist, repressed by the disinclination to sever the contact at their mouths. Teeth and nails mercilessly punished the skin of both individuals, scratching red threads in their wake and ceding mulberry depressions on flush sinews.
The distinct piercing metallic pungency was once again gracing Daniel’s tongue, luring the perverted exaltation correlated to that taste out to the forefront. This newfound morbid gluttony for blood should’ve indicated the wicked nature of this encounter, but abiding to morality wasn’t even close to being as important as the aphrodisiac harmony experienced. And that scared him.
Sam cried out again at the crimson ichor flowing into his mouth from the reopening of Daniel’s wounded lip. While it wasn’t surprising that Samuel had a penchant for blood that extended into his sexual desires, it nevertheless surprised the drummer enough to make him forget about his anxieties regarding his moral compass. 
Fed up with only minimal friction impeded by their clothing, Daniel unceremoniously dropped Sam onto his feet. As he went to petulantly protest, Danny silenced him by taking the collar of Sam’s shirt and tearing it apart. The noise the cotton made as it was shredded was loud, not allowing itself to go unnoticed. Underneath that tearing, Daniel could hear the pathetic whine of his best friend, his face screwed up in a mask of arousal. 
“That the best you got, big boy? Ruining a perfectly good shirt just to be all alpha?” Sam taunted, his tone nothing but scathing. 
Daniel knew Sam was just attempting to get under his skin. He knew that from the way his tone indicated a challenge and the glint in his amber eyes meant nothing but mischief. Sam was always one to push someone’s limits, to poke and prod them until they exploded; Danny was absolutely no exception. The only difference from all those other times Sam teased him was that he was going in for the kill. Sam knew all about what got Danny’s blood boiling and tonight, he was pulling out all the stops. 
Daniel at this point had ripped his own shirt to pieces and tossed it aside. The growl that involuntarily slipped past Danny’s gritted teeth should’ve been warning enough. “You’re such a spoiled fucking brat.” 
“Are you just gonna stand there and take my attitude, Danny boy? Guess that proves what kind of leader you are.” Sam’s grip on the drummer’s curls tightened. He wasn’t even trying to conceal that cocky look on his face and it was driving Daniel insane. This wasn’t just Icarus flying too close to the sun; this was Icarus turning ninety degrees towards the sun and playing chicken with it. 
Either way, his wings were still made of wax. 
No longer conscientious to his own actions, Daniel found himself pinning Samuel to the wall by his neck. It wasn’t a tight grip by any sense of the means. Truly, if Sam wanted to leave he would easily be able to slip out of his grasp. Regardless, the message was clear: Sam had pushed too far. 
Danny placed his right forearm right next to the bassist’s head, effectively caging him in. Even though he was only mere inches taller than Sam, Daniel was looming over Sam in a way that made it seem like those extra inches were feet. His entire presence was imposing, even down to the way he breathed. Sam had never been more turned on in his entire life. 
“Where did all that attitude go, pretty boy?” Daniel’s tone was purely condescending. Even the way he smirked down at Sam made him feel small and foolish. 
Chuckling darkly at the way the bassist’s entire demeanor changed on a dime, he moved his hand from Sam’s blemished throat to holding his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. Those amber eyes were pleading, Sammy’s brow knit. 
“You’re all bark and no bite, princess.” 
Seeing that defiance spark back up in Samuel’s eye caused a dark satisfaction to swell deep in his chest, Daniel feeling a smirk grow on his lips and his cockiness spike. It was the only warning he got before Sam nipped at Danny’s thumb in an effort to display how he wasn’t so pleased with the drummer’s comment. 
Ripping out his thumb with a growl, Daniel used that hand to grip the bassist’s hair in his hand.Taking advantage of the ability to manipulate his best friend’s head, he tugged on Sam’s hair and exposed his neck. Without hesitating, Daniel sunk his teeth into that irresistible flesh that beckoned his teeth indentations in order to mark Samuel as his property. At the feeling of the drummer’s teeth once again scoring his throat with his autograph, Sam let out a moan that seemed to originate from within the deep trenches of his consciousness. 
As if on their own volition, Sam’s hips thrusted directly into Daniel. It was a vital mistake and they both knew it; Danny knew just how desperate Samuel now was. A low chuckle slithered past Danny’s lips as his eyes darkened, a shiver traveling along Sam’s vertebrae. 
“Oh, a needy little thing, aren’t we, kitten?” Daniel purred into Sam’s ear. He couldn’t see it, but Daniel caused Sam’s eyes to roll back into his head. Once more, Sam’s hips lurched forward involuntarily. His hands balled into fists against Daniel’s torso, leaving red lines in the wake of his nails. 
The moan Sam released was dirty, wrong, and downright pathetic; three of Daniel’s favorite things from Samuel. It seemed all that arrogance and pride ebbed from his bloodstream. He was willing to beg for anything from Danny, as desperate as a bitch in heat. He was right where Daniel wanted him. 
Taking his best friend’s lamentation of lust as a yes, Daniel chuckled darkly once more. Daniel took his thumb and toyed with Sam’s plump lower lip, locking eyes with the bassist as he did so. There was a deep and strong flowing need roaring in the amber eyes of the younger man, Daniel drinking it up like he was a man dying of thirst. 
Danny didn’t miss the fact that this power he possessed over Sam made him feel the same as when he slaughtered his victims. That feeling of knowing it’s wrong, that doing it would alter the course of his life, the risk of being caught, but knowing that the payoff would be nothing but pure and unadulterated bliss; he couldn’t tell the difference between Samuel and his vice of choice. 
Perhaps he’s becoming my preferred sin
Filing away that thought for later, Danny decided that he was doing too much thinking. 
“Princess, when I’m done with you, you’ll have a new god to worship.” 
Without so much as any warning at all, Daniel was ripping Sam’s pants off of his legs. With a surprised yet petulant noise, Sammy got the hint and helped step out of his jeans. With them kicked out of the way, the only thing Sam was wearing was his necklace and a blush. 
That blush of his deepened as he watched the drummer get down onto his knees, their eye contact never waning. Before Sam even had the slightest chance of processing anything that had just happened, Daniel once again clutched the back of Sammy’s thighs hard enough to bruise and hoisted the man onto his shoulders. With a gasp, the bassist’s hands flew to those raven coils for security, his back once again flush against the wall. 
“Stay with me here, pretty boy,” Danny mused, a patronizing tone dripping from his words. 
In this new position, Daniel’s lips were at the perfect level with Sam’s cock. With that revelation, it finally clicked for the bassist. Involuntarily, his dick twitched in anticipation. Danny, being inches away, noticed. 
“Hang on tight, kitten,” was the only thing Daniel said before taking Sam’s tip into his mouth. 
With a deep and sharp gasp, Sam’s grip in the older man’s hair tightened. He was so desperate for anything that the very sensation of touch was enough to nearly send him over. Thankfully, he was able to pull himself away from the edge and save himself a lot of embarrassment. However, what he wasn’t able to get a handle on were the hopeless groans being ripped out of his throat. 
“There’s that vocal slut I know and love,” Danny said before diving right back in. It was driving Sam insane how Daniel would give him only enough to feel something but not enough for it to be euphoric. He kept at this for minutes, lapping lightly at Sam’s dick but never going all the way. From the look in his eye, the drummer knew exactly what he was doing as well. 
“Sadistic bastard,” Samuel managed to rasp out, his chest heaving as he panted like an overworked dog. Sweat was gleaming off his chest, marred throat bared as he rested his head against the wall. His knuckles were drained of all their color as he gripped Daniel’s hair like a vice, his thighs clenching tightly against Danny’s shoulders. 
Thrilled at what Sam had just called him, Daniel chuckled deeply with his lips still locked around his best friend’s tip. Pulling off with a pop, he smirked up at Sam as he admired the state he was able to reduce him to. 
“You love it, doll,” the drummer claimed. With one final smirk up at Sam, Daniel finally plunged down all the way down and took all of Sam. 
Sam didn’t make a noise. Instead, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his hips lurched forward on their own volition. His back arched as he began grabbing more of Daniel’s hair in his grip. Danny, to his credit, was able to take everything Sam threw at him with ease. In fact, he began working as if Sam wasn’t even there. A thought sprung up in the back of his mind that Daniel was treating Sam like his personal sex toy and it nearly sent him into a spiral. 
To say Sam was unprepared for what Danny would do next was a complete understatement. In no way, shape, or form was Samuel expecting Daniel to begin prodding at his entrance with his finger. The shock was so much that he once again thrusted deep into Daniel’s throat and caused tears to form in his eyes and stream down his face. Never before had Sam thought tears were hot, but here he was toeing the edge of release from simply gazing at the wet streaks that stained Danny’s face. 
“Danny, I-I think-” 
“Don’t even think about it, kitten. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,” he ordered with a growl. The way he gazed at Sam… There was nothing but authority in those dark eyes of his. So Sam had no other option but to close his eyes and focus all of his energy on simply holding back. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue - Sam liked to think that he had pretty good stamina - but considering Daniel was cockwarming Sam with his goddamn throat and massaging his prostate with his beautifully calloused fingers, it was a miracle he was coherent enough to understand English. 
All of his senses were becoming overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pleasure overloading his nerves. He was writhing underneath Daniel’s hold on him like a mouse entrapped in the constriction of a Boa snake. Despite his eyes being closed, Samuel’s vision whited out. He wasn’t aware that he was shrieking out Daniel’s name like it was a prayer. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Every inch of him felt like he was on fire from the sheer amount of ecstasy streaming through his system. At that point, Samuel decided that his relief was more important than obeying Daniel. 
Looking him dead in the eyes, Sam came down Daniel’s throat. There was a fierce defiance burning in his eyes as his cum shot into Danny’s esophagus, challenging the drummer’s authority and pushing his limits even more. He knew from the second that Daniel groaned darkly that he had hell to pay for defying Danny, but deep down Sam knew that he wanted it that way. 
Dutifully swallowing, Daniel slowly pulled off of Sam while maintaining eye contact. The look in his eye was a dangerous one, one that promised revenge and retaliation. A shiver went down the bassist’s spine as Daniel fully removed his mouth from Sam; his fingers slowly and agonizingly followed, Sam being overly sensitive after cumming and feeling every inch Danny’s fingers sliding out of him. 
“You’re gonna regret that, sunshine.” 
Within the blink of an eye, Sam was being hauled over to the bed under Danny’s arm. Before he knew it, Sam was being thrown down onto the mattress with the wind being knocked out of him. There was only a brief moment before Danny was pinning Samuel to the mattress. Sam’s head was spinning, working itself into a tizzy as it tried to comprehend the past few seconds. 
As Sam was preoccupied with trying to get his bearings after Daniel treated him like a ragdoll, the drummer used his confusion to his advantage and yanked his belt out from his pant loops. 
Manhandling the bassist, he used leather to bind Sam’s wrists hard enough to leave bruises and tied him to the bed frame. 
“Comfortable?” Daniel smugly questioned as he watched the younger man tug against his restaurants in a futile effort. 
With an angered look in his eyes, Sam huffed out in annoyance. “No!” 
Chuckling, Danny unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper. The sly smirk spreading across his lips did much to get Sam’s dick back to half mast. He wasn’t aware his refractory period had that short of a window until now, but to be fair, he had never slept with Daniel before. 
“Good,” he darkly rumbled before removing both his pants and boxers together. Sam swallowed thickly as he took in Daniel in all his glory. He was proportional to the rest of his body: large, thick, and all long lines. To put it simply, Daniel would have no trouble splitting Sam open. There was a small part of him that worried about how Danny would fully fit inside of him, but he also knew Danny would take care of him. As much as he was acting all large and in charge Big Daddy Dom, the two of them had a bond sealed in the blood they spilled from their victims. 
Climbing up the bed, Daniel positioned his knees to be resting next to the bassist’s ribcage. Danny watched as Sam’s eyes nearly crossed as he gazed at his dick - eye level to one another. It was quite cute to see such an expression on his face. It gave the youngest Kiszka a sense of näivety Daniel had rarely seen from him in their decades of knowing one another. 
“You want to cum that bad, baby boy? I’ll make sure you cum so hard that you forget everything except me,” the older man darkly promised. And Sam believed it. 
Sammy’s breath hitched in his throat as Danny reached down with the hand that wasn’t propping him up against the wall behind his head and gripped his jaw. Using the fingers of his left hand, he was able to manipulate Sam’s mouth open. It was all he needed to shove himself between Sam’s plump lips. 
Daniel let out a sigh at the feeling of finally getting some friction, his head throwing back and exposing his throat. His right hand was still pressed against the wall, the paint a cool sensation against his otherwise searing skin. 
It was only a few seconds before Sam began using his tongue to lap at the tip of the drummer’s cock, his eyes big as they flicked up to look at Daniel. Danny couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting into Sammy’s throat. The sudden action made him gag, tears welling in his eyes. However, there was nothing in his face that suggested he wasn’t ok with what had happened. In fact, Daniel got the impression that if his mouth wasn’t full, Sam would be egging him on. 
Proving his theory, Sam began bobbing up and down along the length of Danny’s cock. 
Taking the hint, the drummer tangled his fist into those silky chestnut locks in order to keep Sam’s head in place. Then he began rocking his hips. Danny felt how Sam loosened his jaw to accommodate for the change of pace, those perfectly full and petal pink lips wrapped tightly around his shaft. Buckling under the pleasure, Daniel threw his head back once more as a growl left his throat. He was acutely aware that the bed was squeaking and groaning in warning of collapse, but he didn’t care. What he did care about was the tears streaming down those beautifully sculpted cheekbones and the thick saliva dripping down Sammy’s chin. 
Knowing he had to stop then - or else he wouldn’t - Daniel ripped his dick from Sam’s velvety mouth with a string of saliva connecting the two as an act of rebellion against the severance. The bassist petulantly whined at the loss of contact, looking absolutely used and enjoying every second of it. Once again taking his left hand, Danny placed his index and middle finger on Samuel’s tongue, the bassist immediately and enthusiastically coating them in saliva. 
Taking his fingers away, Daniel used Sam’s spit as makeshift lube as he lathered it onto the younger one’s entrance. It was only a moment before he slipped his fingers back in. Sam howled at the feeling, his back arching in a mirror image of Daniel’s fingers curling inside of him. He kept moaning out as Danny kept stretching him, Sam’s cock now fully hard. 
Deeming him to be sufficiently stretched, Daniel removed his fingers once more before aligning himself with Sam’s hole. He quickly checked with Sam to make sure he was still on board; they both knew that there was no way Daniel was holding back. Sam gave him a small smile before nodding, reassuring his best friend that this was something he wanted. It was all he needed. 
Daniel plunged himself as deep as he could go. Samuel - hands gripping the leather restraints, knuckles turning white, eyes rolling into the back of his head, jaw hanging slack - let out a soul deep cry of ecstasy that seemed to rattle the foundation. He was the perfect image of sin; the sweat on his skin caused loose strands of his hair to stick to his face, a dusting of pink resting high on Sam’s cheeks, bruises on his neck mixed with burning red teeth marks marring his neck. 
The drummer set a bruising pace, removing all semblance of restraint from himself. The headboard thunderously collided into the wall, the sturdy wood leaving dents in the soft plaster. The mattress’s scream of distress seemed to harmonize with the bed frame’s cry for help, agonizingly straining against Daniel’s brutal thrusting. But it was all hardly heard under the screams of pleasure from Samuel. His best friend was abusing his prostate, each violent thrust sending blinding waves of unadulterated bliss through his body. 
“That’s it, pretty boy. Sing for me,” Daniel growled as he lowered his mouth next to Samuel’s ear. There was sweat dripping down his back, his loose curls also taking residence on his face. 
It got to a point where Sam was mumbling out an incoherent slur of words that could have maybe been Daniel’s name. It was a constant stream of a bastardization of the older man’s name; music to his ears. It meant he was getting close again. 
“You look so pathetic, babbling my name like a fucking preverted prayer. You’re nothing but a slut.” 
Daniel wasn’t far from the edge himself. He could feel the ever-tightening coil in his stomach indicating that he was close. Really, the endless chanting of his name along with the added visual of the embodiment of sin writhing underneath him was pushing him closer and closer. But, what finally did him in was the spontaneous burst of cum spurting vigorously from Samuel, the majority of it painting the drummer’s chest. It was a matter of seconds before Daniel himself was filling the bassist up with his cum. 
Both of them spent, all the tension leaked out of their bodies as the exhaustion of that fierce fucking took its toll on them. The pair of them stayed in their places, using the reprieve to catch their breath. They gazed into one another’s eyes, the question of did we really just do that running through their heads. 
Their silence only lasted momentarily before there was a pounding on the door. The murderers - now once again fully cognizant of their transgressions against the law - feared it was the authorities as they whipped their heads towards the door. 
“What??” Sam shouted, his voice sounding nothing but used and abused. If Daniel hadn’t just finished, he knew that hearing his partner in such a state would’ve sent blood south. 
“Get down here, there’s something you’ve gotta see on the tv,” Jake shouted through the door, unphased by the attitude his little brother gave him. With one last pound on the wood, the guitarist’s footsteps faded as he descended the stairs. 
Huffing out, Sam threw his head into the pillows in a manner that reminded Daniel of a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Fucker has impeccable timing.” 
“At least he had the sense to wait until we were done.” Daniel, always the voice of reason. 
Sam, nothing but attitude, rolled his eyes. “Just untie me so we can deal with whatever the fuck they want.” 
Danny did as he was told, marveling at the perfect indentations on Sammy’s wrists. He pulled out of Sam after that, the two of them wincing at the feeling. 
They managed to make themselves look barely presentable before making the trip downstairs. That meant cleaning all the cum, saliva, and tears off of themselves before throwing on elements of the other’s wardrobe that had been tossed onto the floor while in the thralls of heat. The marks Daniel left on Samuel’s throat were perfectly visible as Daniel had torn both of their shirts to shreds and had to go without them. Sam even had the gall to put his hair up in a haphazard bun to showcase Danny’s handiwork. It's not like it really mattered, anyway. There was absolutely no fucking way the twins hadn’t heard them. Danny wouldn’t be surprised if the whole block had heard them. 
“What the hell do you want,” Sam snapped at the twins in a venomous tone, his arms crossed as he leaned against the far wall of the living room. The older man shot him a look that told Sammy to chill out. Sam was known to be catty on occasion, but this was just an unprecedented level. 
Josh, wisely, said nothing and instead used his head to motion their attention to the tv in front of him. It was turned to the local news station, a reporter standing on their block as blue and red sirens flashed harshly in the background with crime scene tape strung up behind her. The headline scrolling across the screen told of a murder that appeared to be a robbery gone wrong. The reporter rambled about the victim, how the body was reported, and other facts of the case before the shot cut to an officer. The officer stated how there - strangely - was a drumstick that was left at the scene. 
Nervously - and frankly a little bitterly - Sam shot a look at Daniel. The drummer shook his head. But Sam didn’t believe him. That was their thing and now Danny was going to go off on his own?? What the fuck was he thinking?! Resentment was beginning to curl darkly inside the bassist. After all that, his little sunshine was nothing but a-
“There’s an ‘S’ carved into the wood of the drumstick,” the officer added, cutting into Sam’s venomous train of thought. 
Once more, rhythm section shared a look. It only took a second for them to realize they came to the same conclusion. 
“Isn’t that insane?? It happened a few houses down from us,” Jake commented, oblivious to what the younger two were silently discussing. 
“To have a murderer that close to us…” Josh added, a shiver wracking his body at the mere thought. Under different circumstances, Sam might’ve laughed. If only Josh knew…
But they weren’t different. And this was no laughing matter. 
Someone out there knew what they were doing. And they were copying them. 
+++
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mizziix · 5 months
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I said I was gonna talk more about my Awakening OC's so here we go. @blood-bound
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Meet Arret a bon Temps! Aka Arret, aka Daniel Price. Obrimos of the Adamantine Arrow. Also known as the Arret emoji.
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Now, the game that Arret started in has been going on close to two years now, so there's A Lot of things that I could cover, especially since my ST is quite frankly amazing. To save my exhausted brain and my hands from carpal tunnel, I'll give the highlights.
Arret's Awakening was him being bound by chains of lies, limitations, and things holding him back. In order to Awaken he had to not only break out of the chains but rip the chains bound in his body out of his skin. It was very painful, and left him with a side effect.
Arret for most of his life, including before Awakening, couldn't form strong Sympathetic bonds. He and those around him didn't realize this, they just thought he was an apathetic bastard who never dedicated himself to anything (tbf, he was). However, due to actions in game it was figured out and he got a temporary fix for it, allowing him to form strong opinions about things for the first time in his life.
Arret is a fragment of another mage! The mage known as Hieronymus for Reasons™ attempted to spread his soul out into other bodies. This failed. Badly. One Promethean, one Banisher, and one Dude with albinism were the resulting fragments, and they all dealt with this in their own different ways (poorly). Only the Banisher, Stop Hit, recalled memories of being Hieronymus, and they disgusted him so much he now murders anyone he discovers doing experiments with soul magic. Hence the Banisher title.
Arret's party averages out to one guy per guy. This is due to statistical bullshit. Arret is only .5 of a guy (the guy being Hieronymus), his best friend Auri Calderon shadow name The Court of @lucislibari is 4 guys per guy due to timeline bullshit and the intervention of a Supernal Entity, and his other best friend Decha shadow name Romulus is somewhere between .5 and 1.5 guys at any given time due to complicated feelings about their twin contrasting against their Supernaturally Enhanced Self Confidence™.
There's other stuff like his career as a bodyguard, the places he's worked including a garden outside of known time and space (it's somewhere near France?), the Scelesti he's fought against and distantly connected to, his rivalry turned friendship with another Arrow mage named Argos (they have punched eachother unconscious multiple times), Hieronymus's rivalry with a seer spilling over into his responsibility, and much much much more but that's a lot to type out without explaining all of the past context of two years. I have like 30 pages of notes for this game.
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