#and if anyone deserves to do the torturing it's danny

[hailsatanacab]

Ao3

The man’s grin fades as he takes in the scene, slumping out of his triumphant stance with a disgruntled moan. “You’re not the birdie I’m looking for.”

“I’m sorry, Duke, I’m gonna have to call you back. A clown just kicked my door down. For some reason.” Danny says into his phone, before hanging up and dropping it onto the counter next to him, despite Duke’s protests. He’s starting to get the impression that this isn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was. He turns his attention towards the clown. “And you’re not the pizza delivery boy. Or, at least, I hope you’re not. Won’t be ordering from them again if you are.”

“Oh, a comedian? You best stop it, because that’s my job, and you don’t want to get on my bad side more than you already are.”

“Uh-huh, right. You’re J, then?” Danny holds up the card and gives it a little wave. Birds, Bats, and a guy wearing a really terrible halloween costume. Yeah, he’s starting to put a few things together. 

A spark of anger catches in his belly and he takes a sip of his water to quench it. Best get the full story before he does something he might regret. He’s only just gotten to this city, he really doesn’t want to bring down the ire of its protectors already. Fairly sure he's heard something about "No killing" and "No metas" and "overprotective vigilantes, so don't draw attention to yourself, I mean it, Danny" and shit.

The guy doesn’t answer him, but that’s alright, Danny’s pretty sure this whole box was his doing. He’s never going to let Sam know, but he kinda wishes he’d listened more to her 135 slide PowerPoint presentation—“Staying Safe in Gotham: It’s a Good Job You’re Already Dead, Ya Dingbat”—rather than playing Smash or Pass with Tucker whenever a person came up. Honestly, Danny couldn’t really concentrate on anything after Tucker enthusiastically smashed on Man-Bat. 

Come to think of it, that’s probably why Man-Bat is the only one Danny vividly remembers. Why couldn’t Man-Bat be the one to break into his apartment instead, at least he knows his name! Actually, wait, scratch that—it would be so horrifically awkward if they were to ever meet. Danny’s not one to judge, but there’s no way he’d be able to think about anything else.

“Speaking of being on my bad side,” J mumbles, clearly dismissing him and turning to face the door. He scratches at the back of his head with a crowbar that had been tucked away in his trousers. Gross.

A couple of men burst into the room, both armed with automatic rifles and clad in sinister looking clown-masks. Danny has to assume they’re with J even if they haven’t fully committed to the makeup. 

As soon as they cross the threshold, J swings the crowbar down and knocks the first one on the ground. He writhes, clutching at his head, whimpering as his blood splatters all over Danny’s nice new floor. There goes his security deposit.

“Boss?” The other one asks, not doing the sensible thing and running, which is what Danny would have done. Well, maybe not, Danny's never been particularly sensible.

“I thought you said this is where he lived?”

“He does, boss, I swear it! Duke Marlon Thomas is the name on the lease, it must be him!”

“Really?” J laughs, high and loud and very insane. It sets Danny’s teeth on edge. “Because unless he dresses up as a hate crime every day, this isn’t him!”

Well, sure, Danny’s existence is a crime, but it isn’t a hate crime. He’s back to not being entirely sure what’s happening here, but if he were to guess, this Duke Marlon Thomas is a new bird in the Bat’s vigilante nest and J is here to… Danny turns to take in the bird with the broken wings, hanging limply away from the body, feathers all crushed and bent. Well, J certainly isn’t here to make friends, is he?

“I’m sorry, boss, I—”

“I moved in yesterday, your guys are a little behind with their info. What did you want with Duke? I have his number, I could send him a message to say his mail order clown broke his birthday present. I assume that’s what’s happening here, right?” He shrugs and lifts up his phone, fishing for whatever information he can get. “You do balloon animals?”

“Mail order clown? Balloon animals?”J’s red lips stretch into a macabre grin and Danny is, once again, reminded how much he hates clowns. “Yeah, I’d love to use you as a message. At least someone here knows how to be helpful.”

J punctuates his words with several kicks to the downed man. Danny grimaces at the violence, stomach turning. If this is what the guy does to his lackeys, just what did he have in store for Duke?

“So, what’s your name?" Danny interrupts. "Bobo? Wait, no, it begins with a J… Jingles? That’s more Christmas elf, really. Jolly? Jello, you look like a Jello.”

“Jello?” J stops kicking the poor guy and looks up, confused.

“It’s Jello? Jello the Clown! Good name, really matches your hair. Not gonna lie, hate the aesthetic but kudos to you for sticking to it, I guess.” Danny shrugs again, a congenial smile on his face.

J barks out a laugh, his voice cruel and twisted. “You’re playing a dangerous game, boy, you best remember my name quick.”

“Wait, it’s not Jello?” Danny can’t help but laugh at the affronted look on J’s face. He was right, earlier, Danny really is a comedian. Winding J up is definitely funny. “J… Jester? Jujube? I’m running out of J words. Is it just Jake, is your name Jake? John. Jeffrey! Jeffrey the Clown!”

There’s a brief pause, the only noise J’s panting as he straightens up from beating the poor guy. He slicks his lank, green hair back out of his face and fixes Danny with a grin. Some of his lipstick is smeared over his teeth. Looking at the streaks of blood now decorating his apartment, Danny sure hopes it’s lipstick. Otherwise it’s just nasty. 

“How about this?” J says, all casual and smiles. 

Danny cocks his head to the side and smiles back, humming at him to continue.

J gestures to the goon still standing with his bloody crowbar. Good for him for not running yet, really. That’s professionalism. Idly, Danny wonders just how much money he gets for a gig like this. Whatever the amount, it’s not enough. Gotham really is a different city, huh?

“I’ll have this idiot here tie you up on that chair. I’ll do to you what I was going to do to Gotham’s newest do-gooder, Signal, and when I’m finished…” J wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing sweat and blood across his face. He spits on the floor, keeping eye contact with Danny the whole time. “When I’m finished, I’ll place that little broken bird on your lap and I’ll carve my name into your chest. How about that? Think he’ll get the message then?”

“So what I’m hearing is that it is Jeffrey?” Danny asks, fighting down his own grin.

“Why don’t you just wait and see?”

“Sure! Hey, out of curiosity, what were you planning on doing to Duke?” He keeps his voice light, controlled, but even that is starting to get to the man judging by the flash of anger across his face. Must be used to being feared, he guesses. Sorry, J, but Danny’s seen children scarier than you.

“Show him what it means to join our game, just what exactly he’s getting into. Fight him, beat him, kill him. Take this here crowbar and show his brains to the world.” He taps the crowbar to his chin in mock thought, leaving a thick dab of blood  “Teach him to understand what the Bat’s signal really means, you know?”

“I don’t, sorry.”

“That help always arrives too late. That the good ol’ Bat only ever shows up after I’ve done my business. That you can only count on him to clean up my mess. That I’m going to kill him—you, now, I suppose—and there’s nothing no one can do about it. What do you think, clear enough for our friend Duke now?”

The man laughs again, high and nasally, and Danny turns to put his glass of water on the counter behind him. There’s no amount of water that can quell the raging fire in his belly now. Frost begins to creep around the glass and Jeffrey is really starting to piss him off.

“Do you know how old he is?”

“What does that matter?”

“Humour me. You seem good at that.”

J’s face closes and he leans down to pick up the assault rifle his goon dropped. Poor guy’s not moving, now. He’s just unconscious, Danny can tell, but still. It’s not going to be a pretty recovery.

“Or I could just shoot you now.”

“Or you could just shoot me now.”

J points the gun at the guy on the floor and pulls the trigger.

As the echoes of the shots fade, J cracks into a full-body laugh, clutching onto his stomach and doubling over. 

Danny’s lips curl into a snarl and he has to take a deep breath to calm down. Not yet.

“Children! Teenagers! He thinks he can send kids after me and I won’t fight them? I won’t hurt them? I won’t kill them?”

Danny locks eyes with the other masked goon, trying to motion with them to run away because there’s no way this isn’t going to end in a fight.

"Do you want me to tell you a secret?" His eyes take on a dangerous glint and he waves the gun over to the guy. "It's better when I do.”

But, the guy just stands there, waiting, looking very much like he’s used to his shit. He only moves when his next orders come and the muzzle of the gun knocks against the plastic of the mask. “Tie him up, good and proper.”

Danny doesn’t resist. What’s the point in resisting when he can escape as easily as breathing? Wait, no, as easily as blinking. Sometimes he forgets to breathe.

The man has him sitting in the chair with a rope coiling around his hands when J continues, “I thought I had made my point very clear the first time, and normally, I’m not one to repeat a joke, but I guess he’s too stubborn to learn the lesson. You know what they say: spare the rod, spoil the child. Not that I spared it back then, but still….”

Danny freezes. The goon struggles, straining against the rope to try to bring his hands together again, with no success before Danny remembers that he’s playing compliant right now and lets himself be manhandled again.

“You’ve done this before?”

“You really are new here, aren’t you, kid?”

“You’ve killed one of the vigilantes before?”

J swings the crowbar like a golf club and peers off into the distance as if he’s watching the ball soar through the air, shielding his eyes from an imaginary sun. Then he springs up in mock celebration, fist pumping in the air before bowing at them as if they were giving him a rapturous applause. “Hole! In! One!”

“You killed a child hero.”

“You should have seen his face, calling for his daddy the whole time. It was so sweet,” his voice breaks, he chokes up, and wipes a tear from his eye, “so sad, so emotional. So funny.”

Danny doesn’t say anything.

“Are you going to call for your daddy? I was hoping to make Signal call for his—actually be his namesake and call for big, bad, daddy Bats to come and help him. Really wanted them all to hear it. They couldn’t hear the first one I killed, I think that’s where I went wrong.”

Once the goon is done, he steps back from Danny and moves around the room to stand behind J again. At least he has enough sense to keep himself out of the line of fire. Danny wonders if he’ll run when shit breaks loose. When he breaks loose.

“This was going to really drive it home for all of them, not just the Bats. And then you came in here and ruined it!” J takes the crowbar and pokes at Danny’s chest with it, prodding him hard enough to rock him back on the chair. “So I’m going to ruin you.”

“I mean,” Danny says, pointedly looking at the mess of his front door, “you’re the one that came in here and ruined my perfectly good evening. I was gonna have pizza. Not even gonna get a balloon sword, now.”

Lightning fast, Danny phases through his ropes and snatches at the crowbar when J goes to poke him again. He heaves with just enough strength to knock J off balance while pulling himself to his feet, and dusts off his jeans.

“You’re a meta?” J’s face morphs from surprised to gleeful, another laugh crackling through the air. “Perhaps I was too hasty in—”

“Nope.” Danny rolls his eyes, not seeing the funny side. “Not a meta. I just really hate clowns.”

He pulls on the crowbar again, but J still doesn’t let go, so instead he swings his arm round and forces him on a jaunty little spin if he wants to keep on holding it. They switch places, Danny now near the door and J collapsing into the chair, laughing all the while.

“For the record, I didn’t call for my dad when I died. All I could do was scream.” 

Danny trembles in rage now, holding the crowbar tight against J’s chest, his hand slippery with blood. He doesn’t even think J can hear him, not over the sound of his laughter. 

His death was bad. Painful. Long and unending.

He can’t even imagine what it must have felt like to be lucid enough to call for help.

“You killed a child hero. You came here today to kill a child hero. I can’t let that stand.”

There’s a hitch of a breath behind him, the rattling metal of a gun, and honestly Danny’s a little surprised the guy hasn’t run yet. He turns to face him, keeping the crowbar pressed firmly against J’s chest. He won’t be getting up any time soon.

“Leave. Get out now and you’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” J gasps through his laughter, “get out! He’s mine!”

The man doesn’t need to be told twice. He drops his gun and legs it, so that’s one less thing Danny has to worry about.

Now. What to do with J…

It’s not even a question. He wanted to introduce someone’s brains to the world, didn’t he? Danny kinda doubts he has much of them, but he doesn’t mind obliging. This is one of those favours that he’s happy to help out with.

He takes the crowbar, flips it around in his hand so he’s holding the less bloody side, and starts swinging.

It’s gory. Gruesome. Worst of all, it’s over in a disappointingly short amount of time.

Actually, scratch that, worst of all is that J never stops laughing. It’s weird and more than a little unnerving.

When Danny’s finished, the crowbar clatters to the floor and Danny lets out a long, slow breath. It’s not an elegant solution, not really. Not even fun and from the looks of it, it’s not even going to be a deterrent.

Danny crouches down in front of him, watching as he blows bloody bubbles on the floor with his sputtering breath, giggling as they pop and shower him with spittle. This won’t keep him down for long, of that Danny’s certain.

“You know,” Danny muses, “I don’t agree with child heroes.”

With a snort, he stands, prodding J in the shoulder enough so that he flips over onto his back. “Bit hypocritical of me, right? I mean, I get it. Sometimes you just don’t have a choice. Sometimes you’re the only one that can do something, as fucked as that is.”

The only response he gets is a weak, nasally chuckle. Danny should break his nose, he’s really starting to hate that sound.

Instead, he turns and makes his way over to the box and looks at the bird inside. Danny can’t even imagine what Duke must have been feeling when he put it together. The panic in his voice… 

No matter how much of a beating he’s just given him, J still knows Duke’s name. Knows his family, his friends, his whole life. Sure, Danny was here to spoil his plan this time, but that was pure luck. He won’t be around for the next.

So he’s not really sure what to do now. What’s the protocol for something like this? What’s he meant to do? You can’t put someone like this in a normal jail—even if he managed to stay put, Danny’s sure this won’t be a secret he’ll keep—soon enough, it’ll be open season on Duke Marlon Thomas.

“But it only takes one person, one messed-up, maniacal fruit loop, for it all to come crumbling down. Adults can understand that, they can prepare for that. They know the weight of their actions, they can fully comprehend what they’re getting into. Children…”

Gently, he picks up the bird. The odd angles of the broken wings make the feathers crunch under his fingers and Danny smooths them out as best he can. It fits neatly into his hand, the yellow underbelly still soft and downy. Honestly, Danny’s kind of surprised that there’s not a bomb in it or something equally ridiculous.

“Children shouldn’t need to.”

“You were…” J wheezes from behind him and he can hear the blood catch in his throat. “A child hero?”

“All grown up now.”

J laughs, a wet, bubbling, heaving sound. “Batty doesn’t like to share.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. With this welcome,” Danny snorts, “Gotham already feels like home. I won’t be giving it up. Besides, I’m retired! He’s got nothing to worry about.”

“Retired?”

“I’m not a hero. I was just someone that didn’t have a choice.” He snaps the beak off the bird with a grimace. “Then my own maniacal fruit loop came in and ruined it.”

That sends J into another fit of laughter, the sound so shrill it sets Danny’s teeth on edge. Clowns. Fucking clowns.

Setting the bird down back in the box, he makes his way back over to J and hooks his foot under his shoulder with enough strength to flip him over. Somehow, his laughter is louder like this. What a dick.

“So I ruined him.”

“You… you think you can ru-ruin me?”

“I know I can ruin you. But…” Danny sighs, crouching down beside him again. “It’s probably a bad idea. As you said, the Bat doesn’t like to share and seeing as he’ll probably be here soon, I’d like to make as much of a good first impression as I can.”

The anger is still raging in his gut, the icy tendrils coiling around his core as he looks down at J. The fear in Duke’s voice rings in his ears. How young he sounded.

“No, I won’t ruin you. But I’m going to make sure you can’t ruin Duke.”

“You can try, you—” he cuts himself off with a crazed laugh.

“You know, I failed English in high school pretty hard. My teacher said I wouldn’t know poetry even if Edgar Allan Poe came back to life and smacked me in the face. I said he already did, but he didn’t get the joke and I got detention for talking back. Still… I’d like to think this is going to be poetic. You see this?” He holds up the beak to him. It starts to glow as he imbues it with a little of his ectoplasm and then encases it in a thin layer of ice for good measure. “This is going to stop you singing like a canary. You won’t be the little bird telling anyone any secrets, because this little bird is going to stop you. That’s poetry, right?”

It’s almost comical, really, watching J trying to push himself away from the beak as Danny brings it closer to him. Danny allows himself a little chuckle, but it’s drowned out by J’s barking laugh, short and sharp, as his fingers slip on the blood and he lands flat on his back. Whatever. Danny grabs at his leg and jerks him back before kneeling on his chest—probably a little harder than he needs to, but that’s okay, he can live with that.

Once J is secure—despite his weak scrabbling against Danny’s knee—Danny leans forward and, thumb resting just under his chin, pushes his head up to bare his throat. J keeps trying to gnash his teeth, bite him, wriggle free, but Danny holds him steady. It’s not like he can go intangible or anything. Really, fighting humans is so boring.

Carefully, gently, Danny brings the beak closer to his throat even as J bucks wildly in response.  His wheezing laughter vibrates against Danny’s hand, spittle flying everywhere. Gross.

It takes a precise hand to phase the beak into J’s voicebox, but Danny’s good at stuff like this. It’s just like working on one of his fiddly inventions, really.

As soon as he lets go of the beak, releasing its intangibility, the cold from his ice bleeds into J’s tissue and he stills. The hands that were beating against Danny’s leg go up to his throat.

“Wh—” he starts, but stops immediately, his Adam’s apple quivering as he wordlessly mouths his question. At least he’s not laughing. 

It takes him a minute of working his throat before he can whisper, hoarse and stuttering, “What did you do?”

Danny’s grin is wolfish, stretching far too wide and showing too many teeth, as he sits back on his heels and admires his handiwork.

“Now, listen up, Jeffrey, you’re going to want to know this. Here’s how it works: that beak will be with you for the rest of your soul’s existence. Believe me when I tell you that there’s no one strong enough that can remove it, in magic or might. So you best watch what you say from now on, because if you don’t…”

He conjures up a splinter of ice between his thumb and pointer finger, and turns it around to catch the light, rainbow fractals bouncing off J on the floor. It would make for a pretty picture, without the clown.

When he’s sure J is watching, he carries on, “If you say anything with the intention to compromise or fatally wound a bat or bird—any vigilante, not just Signal—then that little beak inside your throat will grow.”

The ice shivers longer in his pinched grip as demonstration.

“Now, because I’m a nice person, I’ll give you three chances. Within reason, of course, you can’t just order their deaths and only suffer for it once, I’m not stupid. Don’t bother trying to speak around it, either, it’ll sense your intentions and once your three chances are up…”

It explodes in his hands, growing from the size of a needle to the size of a pickaxe, and falling to the floor with a hefty thunk. J watches it all with wide eyes, a whimpering giggle lodged in the back of his throat.

“You’ll end up like the Titanic. Bye, bye, Bobo.” Danny laughs, standing up. “You know, my mom always said if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Words to live by now, I guess.”

There, that’s a pretty good job, right? That should keep him from spreading Duke’s identity around, shouldn’t it? Like, yeah, sure, Danny’s shaking up the Bat’s turf in a big way by interfering, but surely he can’t be mad at him now, right? He’s fixed the situation! 

“So, Jeffrey, what do you think? Still planning on leaving messages for the birds and the bats?”

“J-Joker…” he gasps, the word sticking in his throat. Heaving in a wet, ragged breath, he tries again, “My name… is Joker.”

“I don’t care.”

Return to sender (dc x dp)

There was a box set right in front of his door. That was already pretty unusual, since Danny had just moved in, and and gotten done with boxes and he knew he hadn't had anything delivered here.

"Let's get you inside," Danny muttered as he got his key out of his pocket.

Unlocking the door, he picked it up and made his way in. He set the box down on the small kitchen table before grabbing a knife from the cabinet. He sat down and set to cutting the tape along the opening.

Peeling back the flaps, he took a peak at the contents only to be faced with a mound of yellow and black sparkly tissue paper, with a letter on top.

"What do we have here?" he muttered to himself, as he took the envelope out of the box.

Ripping it open, he got a small greeting card out. It had a yellow smiley face on it with the word "Smile!" printed above it. He flipped it open, and his eyes fixed on the printed text that said "Because today is your day!" Underneath it, written in chicken-scratch was written the following: "Looks like the bat has a new signal. At least mommy and daddy won't know how fast you replaced them!" it was signed with a simple J and yet another smiley face.

Danny frowned. "Weird."

Then, he peeled back the paper to find a taxidermied yellow-and-black bird Danny couldn't recognize, with its wings broken.

"This is definitely not mine," Danny said as he looked at the bird. Hopefully the real owner of this wasn't going to be too disappointed it had been this damaged in transit.

Danny took up the box to look at the delivery address, only to find that while this was for his apartment, the name of the receiver was marked as "Duke Marlon Thomas". It took one quick google search to find a phone number. Danny thanked whoever the sender was for including a middle name as it narrowed the search greatly. Dialling the number, Danny got up to get himself a glass of water. As he got the glass out, the line connected.

"Hello?" he heard a surprisingly young voice say. Well, assuming apparently made an ass of Danny. Maybe taxidermy really did appeal to all ages.

"Hi, my name's Danny. I think I got your package by accident."

"My package?" The guy on the other side asked, perplexdely.

"Yeah, a big box with a bird in it?" Danny answered. "Listen, man I'm sorry, I think the wings broke during transit, I swear it was already like that when I opened it-"

"What bird?" Now the guy sounded even more confused.

Well now, Danny was starting to get confused. "A taxidermied black-and-yellow bird?" Danny sounded out, then he grabbed the note and let his eyes go over it again. "There was a note too, I opened it, sorry about that." Danny winced, before trying for a joke to hopefully get the guy to soften up on him. "Whoever that J- friend is, he's got a weird sense of humour."

"J- friend?" the voice on the other side of the phone said. Guess, the joke hadn't gone over well, because his voice had gone tense.

"Yeah," Danny answered withholding a sigh, damn his curiosity. Opening other people' letters was not only a gross invasion of privacy but also a federal crime. Hopefully the guy wouldn't stay mad too long. "It was signed with the letter J and a smiley face."

"Whoever you are," said the guy, and the urgency in his voice had Danny straightening up. "You need to get out of here right now."

"What-?"

Just then, the door to Danny's apartment was blown open.

"I hope you're ready, birdie," a voice outside sounded, before a spindly man in a purple suit, green hair and sickly-looking skin walked in.

"Because you and me are going to have so much fun."

[spacerockfloater]

hi! i noticed you learnt about what ryan condal said regarding blood and cheese. it was…something. i would like to know your thoughts on the matter. though it would be completely understandable if you need sometime to gather them together or if you would rather not at all! thank you and bye!

Hello beloved, thank you so much for asking me! I’d love to share my opinion!

If anyone’s wondering, @rhaenelle is referring to this interview where Ryan Condal essentially says he believes that Blood & Cheese’s brutality and heinousness was exaggerated by the Greens in a propagandistic attempt to convince their subjects that Rhaenyra and Daemon are the worst villains ever born, hence why he toned the event down; to show us what he thinks is the accurate version of Jaehaerys’ murder.

Now, I am aware that Condal had already warned us that HOTD was going to be a feminist retelling of the events of F&B, which practically means that his plan has always been to whitewash the everlasting fuck out of Rhaenyra. So what do I think about this?

Well, for starters, I think that Ryan Condal is an excellent businessman. He knows what kind of tropes are going to make the audience engage with his show. He understands that people need a hero to cheer for and a villain to hate, therefore he removed the moral ambiguity from all of the characters and divided them into two categories: the Blacks, enlightened revolutionaries full of passion, deserving of admiration and correct in everything they do, and the Greens, pious fools with a moral superiority complex who are stack in the ways of the past and commit despicable crimes. The average viewer does not possess the intelligence to comprehend that both parties have their good and bad moments, and that they’re both correct in fighting for what each believes is rightfully theirs. Simultaneously, he benefits from the modern trends that want women in media to take revenge when they are wronged and emerge as triumphant girlbosses, because of course a white upper class woman’s suffering in a western world (or Westeros) society has everything to do with her gender and nothing to do with her personality or decisions (even if this works solely for Rhaenyra, because Alicent seems to be held accountable for every single one of her actions). Finally, it is obvious that Condal is trying to appease disgruntled Daenerys fans, so he has rebuilt Rhaenyra into this tortured martyr that wishes to change the world for the better in an attempt to make her resemble her great granddaughter six times removed.

For all of these reasons, I find it very logical that he is going out of his way to minimise the tragedy the Greens experience. It just doesn’t make Rhaenyra look good and honestly, who wants that? The producers saw how unhappy Danny’s stans were when they made her lose her shit; they’re not going to make the same mistake twice. They don’t want their show to tank like the last season of GOT did, so they’ll do everything in their power to keep the audience happy. And it’s working! What’s the last thing Condal says in this clip? “You kinda start rooting for [Blood and Cheese]!” and boy oh boy, the TB stans sure do! Literally hundreds of memes that rejoiced at Jaehaerys’ death were posted on X this week, with tens of thousands of likes. But when Lucerys died, it was presented as the most foul thing to ever happen in the ASOIAF universe. It is the TB supporters that dictate which child murder is good and which is bad, and that decision usually depends on which child came out Rhaenyra’s womb, not let’s say, the fact that one kid was a toddler that could barely walk, while the other was a teenager that laughed at the disabled person he mutilated himself.

It’s all just marketing

That being said, I want to clarify that I understand why Condal and the HOTD producers do what they do, but being a good entrepreneur does not necessarily make you a literary genius. Now, I’m not gonna explain why stripping Rhaenyra off of every character trait that made her interesting is a bad decision and that in their attempt to remove the blame from her so that they can elevate her as this righteous patron of feminism, they’re accidentally removing all of her agency and turning her simply into a victim, because I have a whole blog dedicated to that. But let’s just say that presenting Rhaenyra as this sexually liberated idol that’s incapable of evil, when in fact she’s an entitled aristocrat who’s completely at the mercy of men around her, from her father to her husbuncle, is the most performative activism move ever pulled in recent TV history, as well as pushing the narrative that Alicent suffers from internalised misogyny because duh, a woman can only be good and a feminist if she supports Rhaenyra, not when she pursues her own interests.

Ultimately, I think we just have to accept that this show is not meant for TG fans. We are not going to find any satisfaction in it. Everything that was unique and admirable about the Greens in the book has vanished. Their family dynamic is fucked up, Alicent’s children hate her, Aegon and Halaena cannot stand one another, Alicent is constantly a victim and never someone that chases her own ambitions, Halaena is very vague, Aemond appears to be more angsty than angry, Aegon is a stupid rapist, Jaehaerys’ death was turned into a mockery, Alicole was weaponised in order to make us shit on Alicent and Criston even more and so on. This show barely caters to us because we’re not making them any money.

The reason that there are more TB than TG stans is because (I’m gonna get so much fucking hate for this) most people who watch TV are fucking morons. I swear, when F&B came out 6 years ago, no one gave a flying fuck about Rhaenyra, because we all understood that everyone involved in the Dance of the Dragons was fucked up in their own way and that the message of this story, just like the general message of ASOIAF, is that nobody deserves to sit on that fucking throne. We were all in agreement about that. But then this fucking show came along and all the oblivious simpletons that swallowed whatever the producers shoved down their throats, grabbed the book and decided that “Woah, this book is obviously a critique on patriarchy and Rhaenyra is obviously the victim of the story”! As if GRRM, the man who said that he doesn’t sit down and think “Oh, I’m going to write a woman now” but instead he believes women to be people just like men, with complex personalities, would ever do that. And they just can’t believe that it is possible for book!Rhaenyra to be an evil racist classist full of entitlement! Surely it must be because the Greens are rewriting history! There’s no way GRRM, the man that created Cersei fucking Lannister, would ever make a female character that’s vicious and crazy just because she feels like it! Y’all need to sit down for a moment. I say this as a radical feminist that supports the 4B movement: you’re projecting your own ideas onto George’s work. Not all the media we consume has to reflect our ideologies, but if you think that it has to, then this book isn’t the anti misogynistic masterpiece you wish it was.

Like, when it comes to F&B, I am firmly anti Targaryen and did not wish for any side to win. I wanted them all wiped out to be honest. But when it comes to HOTD, I’m TG basically out of spite at this point.

All in all, I just think that things are going to go downhill for us from this point on. They’ll just keep glorifying the Blacks until the very end.

[deadbydangit]

Hello!! Just asking if you got an ask with Ghostface and Michael Myers with an altruistic reader who is incredibly self-sacrificial for the other survivors; apologies if this comes off as rushing. I just worry that Tumblr ate the ask and I don't exactly remember when or even if I sent it (my memory is nonexistent)

I believe I can do that. Please enjoy.

With an altruistic Reader

Ghostface, Shape

Ghostface

Weirdo.

Why are you so nice?

Like, is there something you're trying to gain?

"Because that is literally the only reason to help people."

He doesn't really understand people doing things for the goodness of it.

"So you helped Dwight find his glasses?"

"What did he do for you after?"

"Nothing?"

"Well did he give you something?"

"Then what was the point of helping the little dweeb?"

Danny doesn't like most people.

Actually, he thinks he's above most people.

Except for you.

Because he thinks he's far better, he expects that they would gladly help him with anything.

But they wouldn't dare ask for anything in return.

He's a grade A narcissist.

In a way, he's worried about you.

"Nice guys finish last, you know."

He may sound harsh, but he's trying to protect you.

He doesn't want someone abusing that kindness.

If anyone deserves that kindness, it's him.

Sometimes he'll even get super jealous of the person you're helping.

Danny doesn't really get the whole being nice to others for no reason.

But he wouldn't change a single thing about you.

Shape

Eww, being nice to people?

To him that like, the ultimate torture.

Killing people, now that's where the fun is at.

He'd rather gouge his eyes out with a rusty spoon than be nice to someone.

Micheal is that against being nice.

He's never really been nice to others.

But he has no problem with you being nice.

You can be as nice to others as you wish.

Provided they don't try any funny stuff.

Like flirting or taking advantage of your kindness.

If they do that?

Well, he'll deal with them.

The Micheal way.

He even tried being nice once.

All for you.

And to see what it felt like.

Laurie stabbed him.

And with that, he decided being nice wasn't for him.

But, again, you're more than welcome to be all kind and fuzzy.

It's really cute to him.

Not that he'd ever say that.

Even if others don't reward your good deeds, he makes sure to.

Little head pats, long hugs, and other things that Micheal would normally detest.

For you. And only you.

[rabvan]

spymaster, becoming the doctor, and gardening – a little character study

anyone else obsessed with the master and margarita short story?? no?? just me?? oh well you’re getting a character analysis anyway, long rant about spymasters obsession with the doctor via mushrooms under the cut :3

tw for dissociation and substance induced hallucinations (weird ahh mushrooms as torture)

for those of you who haven’t read the master and margarita (i def recommend its super fun) it’s about what dhawan!master was doing during his 77 years on earth in that time skip during spyfall 2. he’s a mushroom farmer in russia, crazy hijinks and thoschei references ensue. maybe i’m going too deep into it but i really love the idea of him as a gardener and what that implies for everything we see in ttc/potd

i’d like to start with the fact that out of all the masters, dhawans is the one least confident in his identity. classic who masters and saxon held their title with pride with their “he’s the master and you will obey him” shtick. missy, even when she was debating her morality, never saw herself as anything other than missy. her title wasn’t being questioned, it was what she chose to do with it. meanwhile, spymaster just... loses himself after looking into the panopticon. he’s faced with the reality that the doctor is more important than he could ever be, and given that he sees his worth as interwoven with hers (the history between us, constantly refers back to their past/when they were equal), this makes him lose all sense of self. it used to be theta and koschei. the doctor and the master. now it’s just the timeless child and….. that’s it. there’s no significant place for him in her life. what’s he supposed to do now, when he’s based his whole history around her?

easy! fracture himself into different personalities, hide behind disguises (i mean, THREE disguises in one episode? calm down dude) in an attempt to hide his unimportance. while the timeless child is the story of child abuse and colonialism, a hurt the doctor will have to live with even if she can’t remember it, the master sees it as a triumph. he is lesser. she is the timeless child and she has existed forever and he is some dumb timelord who fell in love and meant nothing to her in the long-run. he feels like he’s not deserving of being in his own skin anymore so he hides behind whatever name and personality he can find.

but the thing about all his disguises is that they are so human. agent o, a shy little analyst at MI6 with the wide eyed stare and wits to be the doctor’s companion. rasputin, famous bachelor and a piece of history the doctor would notice. he says he despises humans but he dresses up as them because well, do you know who does love them? the doctor :(

which is why his name and intentions in the master and margarita are soooo so interesting to me. first off, his human alias is mikhail (“son of god”, writer of the og master and margarita) afanasyevich (“immortal”, also the og writer of master and margarita) gospodinov (roughly translated to “lord” and “master”). he steals a name, just like rasputin in potd, with a lot of weight on who he is right now. an emphasis on “immortal” “time lord” when hes dealing with the pressure of ttc. hes basically copying the doctor and making a title for himself like the ‘timeless child’ to feel equal again. it’s not the only time he copies the doctor either, hes basically working for “evil russian unit” in this short story. 

(remind you of anything?? yes im talking about the doctor-master. super cool foreshadowing on how hes been trying to become/be one with the doctor before potd)

and it’s literally in the text. the whole reason he spends months cultivating mushrooms for russia is to change history a bit so that jo grant’s marriage will be ruined. such a Doctor thing to do, kind of parallels clara and danny. to love a human is to be overly dramatic over them. the master, again, uses humans for his own benefit but has never been overly fond of them, with the exception of the doctors little companions. hes copying her again.

but the thing is, he keeps cultivating them. he gains a love for caring for them. mushrooms are just mushrooms until they arent. in a time where he thinks he’s the doctors opposite, he begins farming mushrooms bc of jo grant, a detail the doctor would remember just bc he misses her. he couldve spent his time escaping and getting back to his regular timeline to defeat the doctor, but he stayed. because of a human attachment. very doctor-y.

and if that bit of nostalgia wasn’t enough, he even hallucinates the third doctor in this. Which. okay. give me a non-thoschei explanation for this.

i just really like what that short story has to offer as far as the masters obsession with other people and his disguises go. and what it means for him to spend months of his live caring for something, like the doctor would, when all hes done before is kill. what does it mean for the champion of death to cultivate life :(

nyways, if you made it this far, i really hope you enjoyed !! i just love talking about spymaster can you tell lmfaooo and if you liked any of this id recommend reading the gardener by ritheh on ao3 which expands on his whole “killer heals for once” thing its soooo good <33 ok bye see u guys next time

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC Prompt: He’s Gone, I’m Next

The post had an image that was blurred for gore. Upon clicking on it to reveal it, however, the viewer would see a child, mutilated, vivisected, and left in a field to rot when there were no more organs to take.

The caption was as follows:

“As unbelievable as it sounds, this was legal. They could’ve done even worse, though I don’t know how much worse you can get, and it still would be legal. He was alive and awake for all of this. They only discarded him when they finally removed his heart and he died.

Why, you ask? Well, his parents were scientists studying a compound. Nothing illegal, and only dangerous when handled improperly. But they studied it his whole life. With such prolonged exposure to it from a young age, he eventually had enough of it in his system that he pinged on the sensors of the organization that did this to him. Once they realized the source of the contamination was his parents, they scanned them and took them too. I haven’t seen their bodies yet, but I can only imagine that they’re already in the same state. And again, it’s perfectly legal. Because anyone who’s been exposed to this substance for a long time can be experimented on and destroyed and is legally non-sentient and non-sapient. This obviously wasn’t true. Just ask anyone who knew him. He was a normal kid with a normal life. He didn’t deserve this.

I’m his older sister. The only surviving member of my family. And they’re coming for me next.”

Below the caption was a link to the anti-ecto acts so that people could read the law for themself to see that it was legal.

The account was registered to Jazz Fenton. Some quick googling found Jazz Fenton of Amity park and her brother and parents. Danny Fenton’s death report, as well as Jack and Maddie Fenton’s, who had been found dead in the exact same way an hour after the post had gone out, were front page news in Amity Park. The other big news was that their local town hero had gone missing.

The information immediately went to the Justice League the second Oracle read the post and dug up the intel. They raced to do something about it. Some people began tackling the anti-ecto acts, trying to get them destroyed. There was plenty of public outrage to support their demise, since the post had gone viral. The rest of the heroes split up to find and protect Jazz.

They found her eventually, on the run. There was a ghost protecting her, so luckily she was safer than they’d feared. But why is this ghost only shooting at some JL members and not others when they converged on Superman’s position to try to talk to her? Why does this ghost only let some of them approach the girl?

Superman and Green Arrow, of all people, can get close to her. So they’re about to find out.

Or, Danny gets killed in human form, his parents sharing his fate moments later. They hadn’t done anything other than be ecto contaminated. Jazz, who’d been out with friends, had thankfully saw the vans around her house and gotten away safely with the help of Sam and Tucker, both of whom wanted to stay behind to save Danny instead of escaping with her, since they were in much less danger. Jazz wanted to too, but they told her they couldn’t protect her and save him. She agreed to let them do their thing, only for the three of them to stumble across Danny’s body on their way out of town. He’d been captured only an hour ago. Jazz took a photo and posted the post hours later, once she was safe. Sam and Tucker turned back around to go back to Amity and burn the GIW to the ground. Danny, now a full ghost, shows up as Phantom a bit later and starts protecting Jazz. But he’s not fully in his right mind - he was tortured and killed in the span of an hour - and he shoots at anyone who approaches Jazz. That is, unless he can sense that they’re ecto-contaminated, which any JL members who’ve died and resurrected are. After all, no one would sell out their own kind like that. …Right? Okay, so Phantom’s still on edge. But what part of his mind he’s currently in position of is solely focused on protecting his sister. She’ll make it out. She has to. (Jazz, meanwhile, is trying to heal Phantom’s mind as much as she can.)

[ashgunnywolf]

Being a freak of nature is hard. Being the freak of nature spawn of two other freaks of nature is harder. Being the manifestation of the trauma of the two biggest fucking idiots on the planet is downright unbearable. Being stuck in a damned thermos for fucking YEARS? Torture.

It's only natural to want to burn all of existence to the ground. To make everyone else hurt exactly as much as he does. Who cares about the universe? No one who lives there ever loved him. Not all of him. Not the ugly parts.

And there's nothing left of him but ugly parts.

Danny, fool that he is, couldn't bear the vision of what he could become, so he quite literally bottled him up and ripped him out of reality and asked the undead god of time to pretty please keep this awful thing on your shelf where I don't have to look at it.

He couldn't even sleep in the thermos. Did time even pass outside the insulated metal walls of the thermos, in the halls of Clockwork's lair? It felt like eternity. Existing without sensation, drifting in limbo, unable to even move... Surely this was hell. What he deserved.

And when confronted with that wicked thermos again, all the oceans of anger and rage and hatred parted, and everyone could see what he really was.

Lonely. And scared.

He didn't want to be alone again.

He wasn't a version of Danny that was driven to madness. He was a Vlad who refused to accept that he was all alone, and he was a Danny who couldn't bear the reality of how alone he really was.

And more than that, he was that kindred energy drawn together into one being.

How dare others have families? How could anyone even think to feel things like joy and comfort when he was so alone? Didn't anyone CARE?!

And then this reality's Vlad gave him a body. He looked like Danny again. He was human again, something that can eat and sleep and shit.

When he was pulled from the stasis tank and given a towel to wipe the slime off his skin - he had SKIN again, real human skin with blood vessels and a pleasant pinkish hue instead of undead grey - Vlad called him Daniel.

"How do you feel, Daniel?"

He winced despite himself.

"What is it?"

"I... I don't know what to call myself," he admitted. "I AM Danny, but you know as well as I that half of me is you."

Vlad furrowed his brow. "I see." He sat in silence for a moment, then asked, "Would you like to choose a name? It doesn't have to be right now."

He shrugged. "I suppose."

Vlad placed a hand on his shoulder. "I can't imagine what you feel right now. You've been through so much..."

He wrapped his arms around himself, and it struck him how natural it felt to be so small again. "You know some of it. You lived it, to a point."

"Right." Vlad slouched, looking away. "Driven by what I thought was vengeance. But all along, I was just afraid of accepting the truth. That I was alone."

He interjected, "So was Danny. He was driven to cleaving himself in two because he couldn't bear the loneliness either."

He continued, "The two of you are more alike than you realize. Not only because you're both half-ghost. You're two of a kind. Why else would the worst parts of the two of you fuse so seamlessly... into this?" He gestured at himself. "Selfish, petty, vindictive... lonely..."

Vlad took the towel and ruffled it over his soaked hair. "I wanted Daniel to be my son. Not just to punish Jack. I truly wanted him by my side."

He chuckled. "I remember." He drummed his fingers on his knee, feeling the bones vibrate under his flesh from the gentle impact.

"If it's any consolation, he wanted you in his own way." He shrugged. "I can't speak to how he feels about you now, after everything that's happened..."

"That's alright."

"...but if I were to guess, I'd say part of him is still drawn to you."

Vlad raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He was about to reply when his stomach gurgled. His eyebrows shot upward and he clutched his gut. "I'm... hungry."

A small smile crept onto Vlad's face. "So you are. What would you like to eat?"

He looked down at his feet and thought about it. "I don't know. What would you eat?"

"I was planning to have lobster with bechamel and a side of asparagus."

He nodded slowly. "That sounds good."

Vlad laughed. "Better than Daniel's usual diet of Nasty Burger, right?"

He snarled, baring his teeth - flat human teeth, not his fangs, so some of the bite was lost.

"Not a fan of Nasty Burger? Neither am I."

He glared at Vlad. "I do NOT want to talk about that."

Vlad held up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

Lunch... was nice. He hadn't realized how much he missed eating. Properly eating, not just tearing people's flesh with his teeth.

Vlad kept looking up at him from across the table and smiling. He tried hiding it from him, only doing it when he thought he wasn't looking, but it was obvious.

He didn't hold it against the man. He enjoyed the company, too. It was nice to not be alone anymore.

[darthfrodophantom]

Heeeey, Darth!! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💚

Hi Summers! What a great idea! I love this!

Here are the five favorite fics I've written, in no particular order (but maybe a bit of an order):

A Secret Uncovered Summary: When Danny's transformation is caught on tape, Danny has a whole new battle to face, including a press conference, Valerie, and, of course, school. But who is the mysterious ghost who set him up? And how much can he possibly mess up his life? Reason: This has always been my favorite of the pieces I've written. I poured so much love and work into this piece over (many) years. I'm so proud of it. I set out to tell a story of what it would be like if everyone knows (before Everybody Knows AUs became a thing and even before Reality Trip haha) and used it as a vehicle to show so many different reactions. I've had so much fun working on this. (And there may be a cross-post to AO3 very soon!)

Tortured Truth Summary: Danny's parents discover that the ghost boy is half human. Now that they've captured Danny, will he submit to torture and reveal himself, or is the revelation just the beginning of their problems? Reason: I'm starting with my old ones here! This is actually the first fic I ever shared with anyone, and it's also the first fic I've ever finished. While the torture is tame compared to today's standards, I feel like it has a great emotional payout and I enjoyed taking a micro-examination of the family unit's reactions and using Danny's illness as a way to force everyone to confront his powers.

The Red Vengeance Project Summary: With cameras strapped to their foreheads, Paulina and Star venture into the woods to bait the ghostly urban legend to appear in the hopes that Phantom will come save them. It seemed like a good plan in the light of day, but they get more than they ask for in the dark, claustrophobic, and dangerous woods. Reason: This was one of the first DP fics I'd written in a long time. It'd taken a break and just come back to the phandom to write this and another fic for Ectoberhaunt and I loved it. It brought me back to why I loved writing for this phandom in the first place. I picked this one over my actual first fic since coming back because I enjoyed writing this one more. I loved playing around with the different POV and I felt like it resulted in a really cool effect.

Micro-Unmasking Summary: Great timing prevented Danny’s secret from being revealed to Dash during their shared experience with the Fenton Crammer. But what would happen if his timing had been just a little off and Dash saw more than Danny wanted? Reason: This one's had a special place in my heart for awhile. I started it in 2009 and finally finished it in 2022! It was also just a fun topic that I enjoyed reading. I felt like I got to be a little witty in this one and I just really enjoyed writing it.

Prove That You Deserve the Answer Summary: After an argument with Jazz leaves Maddie feeling insecure about her role as a mother, she wishes she could understand her children better. She soon learns the dangers of making wishes around ghosts when she switches places with Jazz. But when this body swap allows her the opportunity to really talk with Danny, she realizes that maybe she can use this to finally see what's really going on with her son, and maybe find some way to fix their relationship in the process. Reason: I am so proud of this one. I sought out to finish a longer fic and I actually did it! I really pushed myself on this one, and I feel like it really paid off. I feel like the internal thoughts and monologues were so fun to explore and I loved writing from Maddie's POV.

And there are my five! This was a fun dive into my past works and really took some thought as to why they became some of my favorites.

Because this is a great idea, I'm gonna do some tagging! Maybe we can come up with a great list of reading recommendations from it by the end! I'm going to tag: @summerssixecho (you're not escaping your own idea lol), @underforeversgrace, @murphy-kitt, @nickelodeonstudios, and @lexosaurus

[aro-in-danyl]

Retired!Pariah Dark AU

Jazz is having the time of her life psychoanalyzing Danny’s rogues and helping them with their troubles. Eventually she even convinces Clockwork to give Dan a chance at redemption. 

Unfortunalety, Jazz doesn’t know when to quit and decides to try her hand at extending a helping hand to someone everyone else labels a lost cause. 

Pariah Dark. 

And it works! Eventually. Somewhat.

Well he won’t be killing anyone or crushing ghost cores, and that’s about all they can ask for. 

Danny is still the king. But Pariah can now give his successor advice on what not to do. Also Danny sometimes throws paperwork duty at Pariah now that Dan’s parole is over and refuses to do it.

In conclusion, Pariah Dark becomes their new grandpa (Clockwork is obviously the weird grunkle) and he has no idea what he’s done to deserve this torture. 

Inspired by @bywolfstar on Tiktok and the lovely art by @krossan

[samgirl98]

Cain and Abel Wept 18/?

Prev | Next

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE, INCLUDING DISMEMBERMENT, BURNING, AND ACID TORTURE PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Sorry for the shortness of it, I really wanted to drive the emotions, and it came out this brief.

Jason fell in and out of consciousness.

Jason heard bits and pieces from the people around him through the ringing of his ears.

“…Subject doesn’t seem to be able to regenerate organs….” What had they cut out?

“The kidney still hasn’t…ectoplasm doesn’t regenerate…ectoplasm seems to be keeping Subject alive….”

Through the haze, Jason wondered how long he had been in this hell.

Dad, where are you?

____

Three days, that’s how long it has been since Jason had gotten captured.

Danny knew what Jazz said that he shouldn’t blame himself, or he would be taking the blame away from the GIW. But he couldn’t help it.

Damian sat by Danny. They both stewed in the thick silence.

“Your friends still haven’t found the location, akhi, but they will. Anyone who you have in high regard will pull through.

“But will he pull through in time, or will we just find a corpse?”

“Don’t talk like that, Danny. Todd is tough; he’ll pull through; he has to. He’ll stay strong until we rescue him, and then Dr. Thompkins will take care of him. Father won’t spiral, and mother won’t go on a killing rage.”

Danny snorted, “Mother is going to go on a killing spree, alright, and I won’t stop her. They messed with my family; they don’t deserve mercy.”

Damian nodded in understanding. He doubted even father would stop mother.

“Dami, I know I have no right to ask this, but can I hug you?”

“Akhi, you never have to ask.”

Both brothers embraced each other, both worried about what the future would bring.

____

Burning.

They were burning him. Jason wished his tears would put out the flames licking on his hands.

“Subject is simulating crying to rose sympathy. This particular revenant can burn, which coincides with the folklore of burning a body to stop it. Ectoplasm will soon be administered to see if that will heal it.”

 Jason had long since gotten used to seeing his heart beating from his open chest cavity. He laughed hysterically. Not even the Joker had done this much damage, and he was still alive! God, why didn’t he just die? Was this punishment for all the people he had killed? For all the blood on his hands?

“Next, we will text how acid reacts to the Subject’s skin.”

God, let him die.

____

Tucker hadn’t slept for over three days trying to find Jason Todd. Danny hadn’t said it, but Tucker knew that Danny had accepted the Waynes as his fright (though Danny hadn’t noticed yet.), and he knew Danny was blaming himself.

Tucker was glad most of the Casper High students knew about Danny and had decided to help however they could. Mr. Lancer had ‘bought’ the excuse that Tucker was sick and would let him use the school computers to bring down the GIW.

The principal would turn a blind eye and let him stay until late hours and come in early. His parents didn’t know know, but they knew something big was happening, and his mom would pack him as much food as she thought her son would need. Even Ms. Tetslaff was off his back.

Tucker had pinpointed the GIW’s HQ somewhere in Wisconsin, but he couldn’t find where in Wisconsin they were.

Tucker stopped for a few moments to stretch.

He was about to sit when his secured Fenton phone rang.

“This is Tucker. What do you got for me,” he asked as he tried to hack even more of the GIW’s files. Surprisingly, it was easier to get incriminating data rather than their location.

“They made a bunker in 43°8’43” N 87°58’13” W.

Tucker heard a dial tone as Wes hung up.

“Wes, you crazy bastard, you did it.”

Wes had planned to break into the local GIW building in Amity, but Tucker didn’t think the conspiracy theorist would do it.  

Tucker called Bruce Wayne.

“I have coordinates.”

____

“While the Subject does heal from the acid burns, unlike the burns from the fire, the scars linger. We will continue feeding it ectoplasm to see if it makes them disappear.”

Dr. Harry McConnell had never experimented on a revenant before. It was almost like experimenting on a human. The sadist in him relished at the thought. If he could prove that revived people were nothing more than ectoplasmic beings, well, the government would be funding his sadistic pleasures.

“It has been 43 hours since we have had the Subject. During that time, it had no water or food, yet the ectoplasm kept it intact. I suggest the GIW look into rewriting the laws to monitor revived people as some may no longer be human.”

Yes, Dr. McConnell had found his perfect playground.

____

They had a location now, Havenwoods State Forest in Wisconsin.

Soon, Talia would have her eldest back, and the blood of the GIW would paint their white suits red.

____

Damian put on his Robin suit. The rest of his family were getting ready to get their brother/son back from the hands of evil.

Damian would be fighting side-by-side with all of his siblings, and this time, he would not let anyone of them down.

They were going to get his older brother back; blood would be shed, but it wouldn’t be from his family. Today, he wasn’t a Wayne. He was an al Ghul

Here it is! Again, sorry for it being short, but I hope that the emotions came through well. Fun fact, I got the coordinates from Wikipedia so if they aren't to Havenwoods State Forest, blame them lol

And now a poll

[murderousxcoffee]

Amoricide [Dead by Daylight Dark Soulmate AU - Trickster/Survivor!OC]

Amoricide     The act of killing your soulmate Chapter 4: Double Date Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

CW: mentioned torture, mentioned [implied] noncon, blood, Danny Ghostface

I want her.

That pissed Trickster off a little. Not as much as Cortez did, but a little. 

He sat at the table in the large, empty room, ripped straight from Earth, and stared at the old radio. Sunshine wasn't on right now. Right now, she'd put on some metal band from Sweden he probably should have heard of, the latest in a long mix of rock songs from Brazil to Japan. Later tonight she mentioned she'd play a few hours of dark electronic music, things she didn't know the genre of but felt like they should go together. She was doing her best.

He wanted her.

He didn't even know what she looked like, and he wanted her.

It was almost insulting.

Trickster propped his arm up on the table and slid his sleeve down his forearm. The mark hadn't changed, still the same twisting spiral that bloomed like flowers on either end. He placed two fingers on the mark, and cold sunk into his skin, crawling up his arm.

Cortez feared him? Good. And the bandages over her mark dripped with blood last he saw her. How stupid she must be to not understand how much he hated her, how satisfying it was to end her life like the bug she was.

No, she understood. But she didn't know why, or who he really was.

He smiled. 

A shadow passed behind him, a figure hopped up on his table. Trickster's smile dropped. Without moving his head, he looked towards the Killer who now swung his legs in the air beside him.

"Hello, Ji-Woon," The Ghostface's voice, changed by a modifier, still managed to show the smile in his voice. "Having fun all by yourself, are we? Aren't you bored?"

"Fuck off," Trickster said.

The Ghostface laughed. "Oh, don't be mean to me. Aren't we friends?"

"I'm warning you," Trickster said. "I don't have the patience for your bullshit."

"There's no bullshit here, Mr. Hak. Not tonight. Tonight's special."

Trickster leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. A special night for Ghostface meant some certain Survivor was in for it, either torture or sex, it all sounded the same when you were far enough away. 

It also meant the Killer wouldn't be in anyone's business until he got bored again.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, I'll ask. Who are you going after tonight?"

The mask tilted to the side.

"Frank."

A small chill went up Trickster's back. He looked at Ghostface.

"They'll kill you for that," he said. "They'll kill you for even thinking about that."

"I need a challenge," Ghostface said. "And my sweet Felix is being very, very bad tonight. He's not left the Campfire once. If I didn't know better, I'd think he's learned." The mask tilted the other way. "What do you think?"

"Excuse me?" 

"Would you like to help me?"

Trickster spat out several choice words in Korean without thinking. Ghostface laughed.

"You assume the worst of me, Mr Hak. I don't need participation, just a little assistance…"

He glared. What Ghostface did was none of his business, but he'd never considered the possibility the other Killer would go after one of their own. Frank Morrison was no friend of his. The Legion were pains in the ass, unfriendly to anyone but each other, and desperate to prove themselves in the eyes of the older Killers. A terrible combination. Sometimes he thought if he could break Frank's nose and get away with it, he would.

But Ghostface was a different beast than the Legion. Even on Earth he'd known that, just from the movie Hollywood made about him. Without thinking, Ji-Woon rubbed the cold, cold mark on his arm. Did Frank deserve whatever fate Ghostface planned for him?

… Wait, when did he start developing morals all of a sudden?

"If you want my help," Trickster said, "It better be worth my time."

Behind the mask, he felt Ghostface grin.

"Don't worry," he said. "This is something you've been waiting for."

---

Someone knocked on the front door. Sunshine didn't move. Her eyes locked onto the TV screen on her desk. She swallowed.

Three figures stood at her door, all of them in masks. She shuddered. The Legion? How did they find her?

Her janky security system had no sound, no movement, just one unblinking eye at each door. But she could hear them.

"Open up! We are Legion and this place is ours!"

"I don't think she'll let us in."

"She doesn't have a choice. We'll break down the door if we have to."

"Hey, bitch! Open the fucking door, or I'll rip your pretty throat open!"

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She didn't move. Her numb fingers shook.

"What the hell kind of door is this… Hey! Open the door or I'll fuck another hole in you with my knife! You want that?! You wanna die like that?!"

"What if she's not in there?"

"She's gotta be in, right?"

"She is a Survivor…"

"And we're down one member."

"That bitch doesn't go into Trials, I don't care what she says. We would've seen her by now."

"I guess."

"What are we gonna do with her if she is in there?"

A pause.

"Guess it depends if she's cute or not."

Men laughing, a woman's nervous giggle.

The sound cut short. Sunshine listened closer.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Was that Frank speaking? He'd only spoken to her a few times before. "That's from - Give me that!"

A rustling of paper, a silence again.

Frank mumbling. 

"Fuck the radio girl," the other man, Joey, said. "This is bad."

"That's really bad!"

"Fucking… fine, we'll deal with this bitch later. Let's go."

The tension left her body. Sunshine leaned in the back of her chair. She looked towards the window, the top of it cracked open. A smile spread over her face. They'd had no idea.

She looked back at the TV. The blood rushed from her face.

Trickster stood at the door.

"Finally," he said. "Annyeong nae salang. I've been waiting for this, Sunshine."

She jumped from her chair, and it rolled back, slamming against the wall.

I need to hide, she thought.

She looked around, looked back at the screen. The door was open.

"Don't be scared." His voice wasn't coming from the window anymore. "It's only me."

Her eyes looked to the floor. Did she have enough time?

She couldn't wait, couldn't waste it. With care and difficulty, she pulled up the floor beneath her desk. The harder part was getting the floorboards back on top of her. Sunshine lay face down in the dark, her hands pressed over her mouth, and waited.

Wood creaked. Footsteps so close by. She closed her eyes, tried to stop the way she shook. 

"Are you hiding from me?" He said. "That's a disappointing thing to do. I've been looking forward to seeing you."

Creaking, squeaking wood. He stood next to the desk. 

"What's this?" He said. "Some song you've been working on? I don't know this program you're using. Music isn't an easy thing to do alone, Sunshine. Wouldn't you like some help?"

Tears burned in her closed eyes. Please, please, please, she begged. Please please, go away.

He must know I'm still here, she thought, her eyes opening. He must…

Wood creaked, right next to her head.

Something like fingernails scraped against the floor.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Sunshine clenched her eyes shut and reached out for the only help she had.

When Trickster peeled open the floorboards, all that waited was a patch of deep, fresh blood.

[merv606]

Daniel in Mercy’s like “Wait a minute, why do *I* gotta be the wife?! That ain’t fair!”

“Sweetheart-“

“*I* had to do the tournament, *I* had to go through the emotional torment and physical torture—“

“Danny, we talked about that, it wasn’t—“

“I’M THE ONE THAT WENT THROUGH IT! You sat back in your bubble bath while you laughed maniacally on your cell phone gossiping to Kreese like you were a teenage Mean Girl the whole time! If anyone deserves to be the Top - IT’S ME GOD DAMN IT!!!!!!”

Terry knows he’s in trouble when, after the power point Daniel delivered, a few weeks later he marches Terry into one of the rooms reserved as an office, rolls down a white screen and wheels out an old slide projector and where the hell did he even find that thing?!!

[satans-helper]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part XXI

Read previous parts here or read on Ao3 // Playlist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~1800 (I know it's super short, I'm sorry)

Warnings: none <3

No, I'm not dead. Your girl's just been going through it for a while and is now just beginning to try and get herself out of this dreadful creative slump and series of poor decisions that are making her already tumultuous mental health and circumstances worse. No, this fic is not done! So I hope y'all are still with me and I hope you enjoy <3

---

“I seriously can’t believe you got away with it.” Josh’s face was still stuck in disbelief when he said that to Jake, but when his twin looked back at him with some disbelief and undeserved innocence of his own, Josh smirked and shook his head. “You’re such a scoundrel. Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“It’s really not funny,” Jake protested, sighing and turning away to look out into the trees. The porch around him harbored so much scandal and discourse, he thought, that it should become some kind of historical marker. “Because no, I couldn’t help myself. I put myself in the line of fire just to <i>maybe</i> get what I needed.”

“And I thought I was dramatic,” Josh said, leaning back in his chair with a matching sigh. “You should praise every god known to mankind that Sam didn’t destroy you, and that Danny still wants to be your friend.”

“Trust me, I’ve been doing that.” 

Jake caught Josh shaking his head again in his peripheral vision. “I also can’t believe I missed all of this.”

“It was probably for the better. It felt like a lot to…process,” Jake said, looking up at the gray-blue sky now. “You would have made me doubt my choice. I had to just go for it. Take the risk.” At that, Josh gave a little hum. 

It was the weekend and Sam was with Danny, of course, and Jake’s whole world still felt a little empty even though everyone was getting on good terms again. He missed Danny. He missed Sam, too. Things were going to go back to normal–he knew that–but he was eager to get to that as quickly as possible. The feelings of guilt and shame that kept following him nagged and tormented him. Ironically, it was now only when he was spending time with Sam and Danny that he felt those feelings leave him alone. It was when Jake was by himself that all the memories crashed into him like a tidal wave. 

“And how are you now?” Josh pressed gently, looking at Jake so intently that he had to look right back. “Really?”

“Better.” Better was true–saying “good” or anything beyond wouldn’t have been as accurate. “Seriously, when I saw the two of them outside–out here,” Jake went on, waving a hand over the deck. “And heard what they were saying, it just finally clicked, y’know? Danny loves the fuck out of Sam. I’m never gonna be a part of that.” He sighed again, averting eye contact for a second. “It was all just a fantasy.”

After a brief pause, Josh said, “Fantasies can still feel very real to us.” Jake let those words hang in the air–his twin wasn’t wrong. But then Josh asked, “Are you now–or I guess were you ever–in love with Danny after all this?”

Jake had to chuckle. He really could be such a romantic–so caught up in those fantasies, in those feelings, that more often than not only came from stories, not real life. His imagination frequently ran wild while his reality felt so tame. Maybe the fact that Danny and Sam <i>had</i> achieved a fairytale romance beyond anyone’s wildest dreams fueled Jake’s own fire. If fantasy could be reality for someone else, it could be for him. Just not with Danny.

“I don’t know if I ever was. I’d like to say I wasn’t to, you know, save myself being even more embarrassed,” Jake confessed. “But if I was, I’m not now. The spell’s been broken. Fucking finally.”

Josh leaned over his chair and stretched an arm out, extending his hand to pat Jake’s shoulder. “Fucking finally is right. You’d been torturing yourself for quite a while there, Jake. Your heart deserves a break.”

Jake knew it did. The past seven-ish months had felt like a lifetime–he was embarrassed he’d wasted so much time yearning, pining and lusting over Danny, but what was done was done. All he could do now was move forward with what would hopefully be a rejuvenated friendship.

Sick of talking about himself, Jake turned his attention to his twin. “So have <i>you</i> ever been curious about him?” he pressed, raising his eyebrows and grinning. “Be honest, Josh.”

“A bit, absolutely,” Josh said quickly and easily. Jake sometimes envied Josh’s utter lack of self-consciousness and shame. He smiled a bit, a secret little smirk that made Jake even more curious. “I wondered, like you, what it would feel like. What Danny would <i>be</i> like during the act.” He winked as he added, “But I never thought about anything beyond that.”

Jake scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

Josh cackled as he sprung to his feet, holding his empty can of La Croix and grabbing Jake’s. “I know better than you to never mess with our little brother,” he chirped, and Jake managed a scoff and a swift, light kick to Josh’s thigh before he could get back inside the house. 

-

On Sunday, Sam made a conscious effort to help Danny clean his apartment. In all his bliss after the storm, he hadn’t even realized what a mess it had become. He hadn’t noticed that it was also almost entirely because of him alone, not until he woke up earlier than usual, stretched like a cat beneath the covers with his eyes still shut, then opened them to see Danny quietly, discreetly picking up dirty clothes from the bedroom floor. 

So Sam helped with that first. He sprang into action, tearing his own sweaty, stale clothes out of Danny’s hands, properly dispersing them into hampers and bags. He made the bed next, something he never did at his own home, and remembered why–it wasn’t fun, nor was it even that easy. Danny’s king mattress made it a challenge to get the fitted sheet taut across, but Sam refused any help even when his doting boyfriend offered, of course. Instead, he shooed Danny away, then soon heard vacuum begin to run through the whole place. But Sam was insistent on cleaning the kitchen counters next and doing the dishes himself, which meant Danny felt obliged to tackle the bathroom once the vacuum was full of dust and crumbs. 

By sunset, the apartment was spotless–as far as Sam could see, not a single crumb or molecule of dust remained anywhere and everything was back to being organized and orderly, just like Danny liked. The benefit of not growing up with brothers, Sam thought to himself when he opened the only remaining shut window in the living room, basking in the warm breeze. 

Summer was always his favorite season. What would this new summer hold for him and his beloved? They’d had such a rocky start, caught in the gloom and fog of dreary autumn and even more muddled and misty feelings–Sam, caught in the mystic whirlwind of someone so unbelievably new. Danny, trying to pull away for no one’s sake, not even his own. 

Sam knew he was blessed as hell to have gotten him. 

“Wow,” Danny said as he sank down on the couch next to Sam, gazing around at his spotless living room. “I haven’t seen this place so clean in a while.” He pulled Sam into his side and kissed his temple. “Thanks for helping. You didn’t have to do that.”

Sam let out a haughty laugh, clearly entertained by those words. “Fuck yes, I had to! Most of the mess was mine.”

Danny laughed too, low, sweet and soft in Sam’s ear. “Messy boy,” he purred, nuzzling his nose into Sam’s hair that still had the lingering scent of weed from their afternoon break in the cleaning. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, Daniel. You just like being nice to be more than honest sometimes.” Sam giggled when Danny’s nose, then lips, touched his neck. “Right?”

“Only sometimes,” Danny agreed. Truly, he didn’t mind Sam’s messiness–not so much anymore, anyway. He’d gotten used to it. But more than that, he’d take some clutter and extra dust if it meant having Sam around, period. 

Sam was settled against Danny’s chest while he flipped through Netflix, browsing the seemingly-infinite titles. He was more entertained by the soft, rhythmic thud of Danny’s heart beating and the dirty thoughts roaming around in his mind than any of the options on the screen–the quiet was only interrupted when Jake came to mind again. Nothing bad, just Sam suddenly pondering what it would be like at home the next time Danny slept over at his house.

But really, Sam went on to think, letting out a little sigh as Danny played with his hair, what <i>would</i> it be like? Would there be tension and awkwardness? Would he feel insecure? Would Jake try to do something?

Nah, Sam concluded silently to himself. It wasn’t disparaging the idea that any of that might be possible, it was just him disregarding his concerns about it all. Right now, he was cuddling on the couch with his hot, sexy, sweet vampire boyfriend who was all his forever.

“Jeez, would you just pick something already?” Danny asked, growing dizzy with how fast Sam was breezing through the titles. 

Sam handed the remote over. “I can’t decide. There are too many options.”

Danny took charge, pausing to actually look over the artwork and pictures for each movie in the sci-fi category Sam had landed in. He kept playing with Sam’s hair with his free hand, twisting and twirling silky strands between his fingers; by the time he thought he might have found something worthwhile to watch, Sam’s body and breathing felt like he’d already fallen asleep.

Danny leaned forward just enough to take a peek. Sam’s face was still and serene, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted, with his cheek squished into Danny’s shoulder. Danny just looked at him a moment longer before he pressed himself back into the couch–Sam followed, eyes still shut, still snoozing, wrapping an arm tight around Danny’s waist as he nestled his head against his lap. Danny smiled down at him and resumed petting his hair. He traced the lines of Sam’s face with his eyes as he did so, starting with his eyebrows; then he gazed down the bridge of Sam’s nose, back up and over to his temple. From there, Danny scanned the sharp plane of his boyfriend’s cheekbone until his gaze landed on the softer, supple and pink apple of Sam’s cheek. Then he was studying Sam’s perfect, pretty lips, like two vibrant and eternally blooming rose petals. 

Sam’s sleeping face was better than anything Netflix had to offer, Danny concluded. He shut the TV off and relaxed even more into the silence of his apartment and the warmth of Sam’s body lazing atop his own, tossing the remote aside so he could gently press his fingertips to Sam’s lips. 

---

Tagging:

@mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @milojames16 @brokebellsgvf @streamsofstardust @heckingfrick

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

[deadbydangit]

Reactions of the Entity threatening their S/o's life if they don't do a better job in the trials? Maybe they've been slacking recently, even just a little. And the Entity threatens to kill to torture poor S/o if they don't do better :(

S/o still all over them they don't give af lmao

This with Ghostface, Frank, Trickster, and Knight please? Thank you <3

Oh, I like this one. Might use it for the future. Actually, I might do a whole story based on the last one. Please, enjoy.

Entity threatening killer to do better or Reader S/O gets tortured.

Ghostface, Legion (Frank), Trickster, Knight

Ghostface

First, he's going to be offended.

Him? Slacking?

No he hasn't!

Okay, maybe he's been a bit lazy.

Fix his camera and he'd do better!

It isn't his fault that it got broken!

Okay, it is.

But... Still fix it!

But when the damned sky octopus starts threatening you?

Oh boy!

He'll threaten the Entity back.

"Well fuck you, you piece of **** **** ****"

Very colorful words.

But when he realizes that's not doing anything, he's going to follow through.

Survivors have realized he's been a lot more brutal.

Many of the killers have too.

He won't tell them the reason.

Danny won't even tell you the reason.

He's seemed more distant lately, like he's afraid to touch you.

You're worried, but he'll assure you that everything is fine.

If anyone gets wind you're his weak spot, then who knows what kind of danger you'd be in.

He won't let anything stand in his way.

If it means stepping up his game, then so be it.

He won't let that fucker touch you.

He would never let anyone hurt you.

Legion (Frank)

The Entity gave him booze as a reward.

Lots of booze.

Lots and lots of booze.

And Frank has next to no self control.

So much that he's been going into trials with pretty nasty hangovers.

And he's getting sloppy.

Yeah yeah, he knows.

Just give him five more minutes of sleep.

But once the fucking Entity threatens you?

He's going to challenge the Entity to a fist fight.

That won't do anything, but it makes him feel like he got his message through.

He's right off the bottle.

You weren't sure what got into him, but you were pretty proud he wasn't drinking nearly as much.

But you were worried about how hard he was pushing himself in trials.

He's hurting himself.

He can only frenzy so often before it starts to take a toll on his health.

He's exhausted.

Confront him, and he'll tell you the truth.

He really doesn't want to though.

The rest of the Legion are all worried and have made a promise to start working harder.

Make sure to give him all your attention and love for a while.

Hearing what he's doing, all for you?

He deserves it.

Trickster

Yeah he's doing worse.

Entity dear you've cut off his moisturizer, foundation, eyeliner, eye shadow and everything else he uses to keep himself looking like the God he is.

Can't let the survivors look at him like he's one of the other heathens.

So yeah, he's doing worse.

Now he's being threatened? With you being hurt?

Ji-Woon doesn't take to threats kindly.

He's used to getting everything he wants with the snap of his fingers.

He isn't used to working for things.

But, for you, he will.

If that means you stay safe, then he'll suck up his pride and get more serious about his job.

No, he will not tell you or anyone else for his increased brutality.

He won't tell you why he keeps appearing with more and more bruises after trials.

He's a very stubborn man and will admittedly refuse to tell you anything about the deal he and the Entity made.

He's just been extra touchy with you lately.

It's easier to give into his demands for attention than fight it.

If only you knew the lengths he was going through.

But, in his eyes, he deserves that.

Knight

Accusing him of slacking?

Slander!

How dare the sky God dishonor him and his men!

They've been doing very well.

Unfortunately, the Entity's supply of food is for one person, and there are four of them.

Naturally, they have to share.

And, naturally, they're weaker.

You've offered to share, but they won't take food from you.

It's a whole chivalry thing.

But the idea of you getting hurt for his failures?

The Entity was dealing a dirty blow.

Tarhos, Alejandro, Durkos, and Sander will gather up all their remaining strength to protect you.

To serve Tarhos, their captain.

And, they have grown rather fond of you.

And it's obvious that, despite their weakened state, they are more malicious in trials.

They will not share why they're doing this with anyone.

But they're growing weaker by the day.

Tarhos can hardly stand anymore, let alone lift his sword.

And the truth will come out.

The Entity will have to cave eventually and provide them more food and supplies in order to keep them alive.

Make sure to give all of them the extra love they deserve.

They did all that because they truly care about you.

[mark-of-chrysus]

#18

He had been stupid and careless. Again. Only this time it had been someone else who had paid the price.

Hubris.

Danny thought he was untouchable. It's easy to understand why. He was a man who couldn't die, or more accurately, couldn't stay dead. There was nothing anyone could do to him to make him break, not anymore, not after he had repeated his life so many times he could tell you what would come to be in 30 years spot on.

He acted on impulse, and did things without thinking them through because what's the worse that could happen? Excessive pride had let him to provoking Eugene, using his deepest darkest secrets to threaten him, and for what? Fun?

Daniel tempted fate, forgetting that although he was not bound by it others were. His friends were. His mother was. Jay was. And although he knew that, come the next loop, they would not even recall the horrors they had suffered and their broken bodies would mend themselves as if it had all been a mere dream born of a sickened mind, it didn't mean anything to him in the end.

"No" Had been the first word that slipped past his lips when he lay eyes on the mangled corpse of his beloved.

Daniel swallowed the bile, unconsciously cataloging each injury and automatically knowing how it had been done. He knew how those injuries were done because he himself had both experienced and inflicted them on others. He stumbled, suddenly dizzy and vaguely nauseated.

Burn marks covered his darling's once fair skin, almost entirely covering the other wounds present on his torso. There were bruises. Cuts. Punctures. His face was a pale shade of gray and his lips were swollen. His love's last moments had been spent gasping for air, the torturous end deliberately prolonged for the attacker's sick entertainment. The bastards had FUCKING STRANGLED him, slowly...painfully... (cut off their hands~)

Gently, he caressed Jay's cheek and for a moment wished he could pretend that the blonde was just asleep, waiting for Danny to wake him up by peppering him with kisses. Then he took the body in his arms, carefully holding it as if it were made of glass. He took it-HIM! home and laid him on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest like ancient kings.

The funeral was a messy affair filled with sobbing and streaming and blaming. It wasn't how Jay would've wanted. It was horrible and the boy returned home quietly with a gaping hole in his heart.

It didn't take long for the numbness to fade, washed away by the raging storm of anger.

How dare those filthy maggots lay their disgusting hands on his beloved?!

Red...(More~)

Did they think they would get away with their odious actions?!

Blood...(Yes~)

He would make them pay!

Whose blood...?(More~ More~)

They deserved to suffer for their sins!

There were too many of them to count...(MORE!)

He would not forgive them for this!

It didn't matter anymore...(It didnt~)

THEY WOULD PAY!

...the blood...it didn't matter whose it was...(It didn't matter! Just bring us more!)

...

...

...

The loop reset again...It didn't matter...He would continue his mission regardless...they would pay...in blood...with their lives...again...and again...until he would be satisfied...until they learned...until-

The loop tugged at his soul in warning, coiling its dark tentacles around his neck threateningly. No more! it seemed to hiss in his ear. Enough!

Reluctantly, he obeyed.

Pity! I only got to torture them for a measly 20 loops. Well, it just means I have to get more creative! If physical torture was banned it just meant he had to mess with them in other ways. He already had plenty of ideas. After all, the mind was fun to toy with as well! (yes~)

[aviculariaz]

Could we get more degradation from Danny? 👉👈

Everything, Danny Johnson/Reader

Degradation, Spanking, Choking, Knife Play

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43168704

“Dumb fucking worm.”

His hand stung like hot water on your ass, urging out a shriek that echoed across the woods. Nothing called back to you. All alone with him, you were helpless to every lash he delivered to your bare bottom.

It was everything you wanted. All those nights you snuck away from the fire, hidden deep enough in the woods that your orgasm could shutter out freely without concern…it all led up to this. Another night, creeping away from the others as they argued over their place in this world. The difference was, this time, you finally got caught.

It happened so quickly, just another session, when he snuck up behind you. You didn’t run, you didn’t stutter, the adrenaline rushing through you was unlike that in a trial. When he made his presence known with a sly, “Hi there,” you immediately sunk back into his arms. Once his patient hands gripped your hips, all it took were a few desperate please, yes please-’s before he helped you get your pants off.

Now, his leather glove smacked your ass with little concern for your pain tolerance. You wiggled around, but his firm fingers had your head in a steel grip. Facedown in the grass, barely able to breathe, you whimpered. His fingers scrunched up and down, rubbing in your scalp. He huffed “You think I haven’t heard you?”

You squirmed some more, speech muffled in the grass, “Heard what?”

But you know exactly what he meant. He called your bluff with another cruel spank to your bruising ass.

“You wanna play stupid, huh? I’ll let you down easy, you are stupid.”

He grunted when he hit your ass again, and again, mercilessly targeting your sensitive flesh under his harsh gloves. It hurt so bad, and it felt so good. You couldn’t stop yelping every time he did it.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re whimpering like a little bitch. It’s pathetic.”

You were flipped around, the wetness from the grass still damp on your cheeks and lips as he shoved his hand on your genitals. He stroked you, slowly drawing out a moan from your lips. Behind that still, wide-eyed mask, there was a starving sadism. You didn’t need to see his face; you could feel the hunger in his hands as he slapped you across the cheek.

“You’re so fucking turned on. It’s disgusting. You feel that? How you’re squirming and moaning all because a few of my fingers are stroking you down there? All because I’m giving you exactly what you wanted–exactly what I’ve heard?”

He slapped your genitals. It burned so deliciously hot. You screamed, and he quickly shut your mouth while stroking you off.

“I do love that sound, that scream, but no…I hear you sneak away over here. Hear you pull your pants down, start getting off. And you know what I hear? I hear you whisper to yourself.”

You were swollen with arousal at the very notion of him describing your private affair. You never once thought anyone was watching, perhaps the Entity, but a killer? They weren’t supposed to be there, not at the fire, not even in the depths of the woods. And yet…

“You say, ‘Oh God, please, please…hit me again, hit me…’ in that dumb, little whiny voice you do when you’re horny. So eager, so willing to be fucking used. You know how pitiful you sound doing that?”

No more slaps, but your ass and genitals were still throbbing from the lashes. Instead, he kept rubbing you away, squeezing and poking and slipping his fingers all around your warmth.

“It’s embarrassing. All that weird shit you say to yourself. Begging me to slap you, spank you, tie you up, torture you, ha…I’ve even heard you beg me to stab you.”

That brought out a well-deserved moan of desperation, and it only made him work at you harder. He stroked your cheek with his other hand before sinking his fingers around your throat and squeezing. The pressure hugged your throat tight.

“But it’s not really me, is it? It’s empty air all around you…you’re just pretending I’m there. You’re masturbating all by yourself, wishing I was there to do that to you. And God-damn…it’s adorable how pathetic you look doing it.”

Thrusting up into his touch, his fingers sunk down like nails all around your throat. He kept you in place as your hips aimlessly tried to grind upon him. He shut that down quickly by taking a seat on you. His knife slid out and pricked one of your thighs.

“So tell me. Now that there’s no pressure, no game, no emptiness…now that I’m finally here, just you and me…tell me what you want.”

Hot fire rushed through your flesh as he cut through it. You whispered with confidence, “Do everything you’ve heard me say.”

His knife twisted, its flat side icy and wide on your thigh as he wriggled his groin down on yours. His concealed erection was warm, full and thick as he repeated with lecherous satisfaction, “Everything?”

Tilting your thigh, you maneuvered his hand even closer to your exposed genitals. The knife in his grip was dangerously close, and though it didn’t graze you, the shutter of his breath let you know that he loved your ambition. Rising to his mask, your cheeks met with hard plastic as you confirmed with delight, “Everything.”

A sharp inhale, followed by a ravenously slow exhale. A hot, huffing breath hugged your lips, then your chest, then your belly, and finally your genitals before he sheathed his knife. The pressure on your thigh was gone.

He was shuffling with something beneath his robe. From its darkness, a bundle of rope appeared, unwinding in his leather fingers. Once it stretched a good foot, he yanked on either end, “Everything it is, then, little worm.”

[mara-xx217]

Reader asks their killer BF to not cum inside them; which killers would listen and only do so if caught up in the moment and which ones would go out of their way to cum inside their partner to “show them who’s boss”?

Mmmm spicy...

Who would listen/Only do so in the heat of the moment:

Max Thompson Jr./ the Hillbilly- An actual accident. He gets so wrapped up in the moment he gets carried away! That's why he like you to be on top and control the situation...

Bubba Sawyer/ Leatherface- How can he help himself?! You're so pretty and perfect... of course he gets lost in the moment! Also likes for you to take control of sex...

Who would do it on purpose/ To put you in your place:

Pretty much everyone else...

Evan Macmillan/ the Trapper- He's the man, you're the woman. You don't get to tell him what to do when possible heirs are concerned.

Michael Myers/ the Shape- Uh... Michael doesn't care about what you want. He's the only one that really matters in his eyes, and if your still alive after encountering him, then you shouldn't have a audacity to ask anything of him. Ever.

Herman Carter/ the Doctor- It's cute you think you have a say. Really, it is! There's nothing more satisfying than saying he won't... only to do it anyways.

Danny Johnson/ Ghostface- He thrives on torturing others. You tell him not to do "X", then he's gonna do "X". And he's gonna film your reaction. Every. Single. Time.

Kazan Yamaoka/ the Oni- Another hellbent on siring another heir. He's somehow more methodical than Evan is, and if you aren't pregnant after the first time, it's going to be some miracle...

Who's on both sides of the spectrum:

Frank Morrison/ the Legion- Yeah, he doesn't want to be a father, but also: sex feel good. And he's a jealous prick. So expect some ""accidents"" to occur at some point...

Philip Ojomo/ the Wraith- Kinda of similar to Frank. A part of him does want to respect those boundaries, then another wants to dominate you and show you who you belong too. Don't talk to anyone else, or an "accident" is going to happen...

Pyramid Head/ the Executioner- Well…. He's male oppression actualized. If he's decided that you don't deserve punishment, then that does mean something. ...but yeah, he's gonna do what he does, so, uh... yeah...

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